THE MASTER OF DREAMS

A mad jaunt through
unwaveringly whimsical worlds: first of a new fantasy trilogy from multiple
award winner Resnick (The Castle in Cassiopeia,
2017, etc.).

Much beloved for his short stories, Resnick may be the natural
heir to pulp favorite Eric Frank Russell. Here, we know nothing about Eddie
Raven and his girlfriend, Lisa, except that they enter a fortuneteller’s shop
in Manhattan. A gunman bursts in, shoots the owner, shoots Lisa—but then a
mysterious character named Rofocale takes the bullet meant for Eddie. When more
assassins arrive, Eddie escapes by occult means. He has no idea how. He opens
his eyes, discovering that though he’s still Eddie, he’s essentially become Rick of a certain eponymous bar in
Casablanca! Eddie’s is not quite Rick’s, though. Sam the piano player
hates Martian music. Bogarti, a character with three arms
and three eyes, hisses something about letters of transit just before Ilsa
(Lisa’s double) and Paul Brff show up. Eddie’s policeman friend is named Peugeot,
not Renault (“I have class, and I run on more than four cylinders”).
What’s going on? Well, Eddie can communicate telepathically with Rofocale, who
seems to know but is preoccupied with trying not to be dead. What with Oz and
Camelot still on the itinerary, Casablanca’s just a temporary gig, so hold on
to your hat; things will get more peculiar yet. With an analogue of Lisa in
each world—oh, and somebody who wants to kill him—Eddie must make friends fast
and co-opt others as allies. This promising opener keeps afloat, just about,
with only a fragile dream-logic as narrative caulking. Whether it will stay on
that level or evolve into something of real weight and substance remains to be
seen.

Brisk, toothsome, diverting, sometimes laugh-out-loud funny: a
yarn that eventually dispels some of the enveloping weirdness while leaving
more questions than answers.