Steve Hillard

Many more people have been caught up in the drama that is Tolkien's Legendarium than have been caught up in the real drama of the works themselves. The Lord of the rings, solidly founded on Norse myths, with just a twist of English, was Tolkien's attempt at giving England it's own lore to replace that which had been lost to time. Tolkien, though borrowing heavily from the lesser known myths and legends, crafted a world who's seams are hard to discern.

However, as popularity rose, including a pirated copy of The Lord of the Rings in the states boosting Tolkien's popularity to a godlike scale, Tolkien was more and more protective of his works, including voicing an opinion that people should really ask him first before naming their children Gandalf and Arwen and the like. Tolkien's legacy was then taken over by his son and cartographer, Christopher Tolkien, who held onto the intellectual rights of these works with the iron grip only possible of somebody who has depended on licensing rights for survival much of his natural life.

The Tolkien estate is a well guarded castle keep, limiting access to biographers and literary historians who would seek to know the true Tolkien. Only sanctioned chroniclers may access the private diaries and other miscellany of Tolkien, and their evaluations of these works must align with that of the estate. Further, family drama has stemmed from disagreements over the amount of assistance to give those adapting certain works for film, resulting in at least one grandchild from being ejected from the estate.

In a sat twist of fate, the Sonny Bono Copyright Act extended the copyright on these works, preventing the American public from owning a piece of the culture they once went crazy over. Otherwise, the last of the Lord of the Rings volumes would have fallen into the public domain at the beginning of 2012. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord sends out his undead IP wraiths to quash any sort of unauthorized use of a work that has had a major part in shaping the modern culture.

Steve Hillard, in some ways, spoke to that, yet also spoke to the fact that Tolkien's works have very few female characters (Dis, the mother of Kili and Fili, and sister to Thorin, is the only Female Dwarf mentioned anywhere in his writings). He presents literary criticism in the form of fiction in this book, regarding strong female leads in both our world and Middle-earth.

In a story following in the vein of The Neverending Story, a young woman named Cadence must discover what has happened to her recently vanished grandfather. Her quest to discover his fate leads her to Mirkwood, an attraction strongly inspired by the forest in Tolkien's fiction (which was named after the forest of Norse myth: Myrkviðr) to a box of ancient documents regarding a hobbit named Ara, who, upon further investigation, is the expunged heroine of Tolkien's fiction. Cadence must then trace the disappearance of two individuals, one more recent, while the other in the annals of forgotten history, all while avoiding a disguised wraith.

While Hillard is not a writer of the same caliber as Tolkien, he handles his literary criticism in an artful form; though can be heavy-handed at times. This book is better than some I've read (looking in the direction of The Last Ringbearer), and is an important step towards retaining our natural rights in a world of artificial "intellectual property," used as often to stifle uncomfortable speech as it is to protect outdated business models.

I recommend this book, if only to encourage Steve Hillard and other bold pioneers to reclaim for the people the wasteland that is copyright.… (mere)

UN SOPLO DE AIRE FRESCO

Rara. Tal vez esa es la palabra que la definiría para mí. No os equivoquéis no es un rara en el mal sentido sino en el bueno. Es una de esas pequeñas joyas extrañas, pero preciosas, que se encuentran ocultas entre piedras. Así fue como hallé a Steve Hillard.

La desaparición del abuelo de la protagonista, Candence, y los crípticos manuscritos que este la deja son la trama principal. Unos manuscritos que parecen haber pertenecido al famoso autor de El Señor de los Anillos, J. R. R. Tolkien. Sus palabras encierran la clave para encontrar al que ha desaparecido pero su traducción entraña muchos riesgos que parecen venir de otro mundo. Te lo he dicho todo y parece que no te haya dicho nada. Ese es el juego de Hillard.

El Bosque Negro es su primera novela. Una novela en el que los personajes están perdidos y tú con ellos. La tónica general del libro es el equilibrio entre la información y la ignorancia. El autor te da los suficientes datos para entender algo e ir encajando cosas, pero te oculta lo necesario para que sientas la impotencia de saber que hay acontecimientos que se te escapan.

La mujer toma el papel protagonista y es la heroína de esta historia. Un hecho, que como bien nos recuerda Steve Hillard, no sucedía en la literatura fantástica antigua. Antigua y no tan antigua, tanto en las leyendas de antaño como los cuentos, relatos y novelas del género fantástico de hasta hace pocos años la mujer no ha tenido una gran presencia. Relegada a papeles secundarios sus actuaciones eran fugaces. Hoy en día cada vez gana más terreno, llegando a los papeles protagonistas, sobre todo en la literatura juvenil.

Si un libro tuviera una imagen la de El Bosque Negro sería un laberinto. Un laberinto cuyas paredes encierran los ecos del estilo de Tolkien, un estilo ha sabido captar y reinventar Hillard en su novela. Un laberinto cuyas estatuas son personajes inesperados y sorprendentes. Un laberinto cuyo suelo son palabras que atrapan y engullen, aunque tal vez tengan un toque demasiado recargado.

La búsqueda de una estética anticuada y medieval en sus palabras junto con el enrevesamiento a la hora de exponer algunas partes de la historia a veces obligan al lector a leer algunos párrafos más de una vez. Ambos detalles quedan empequeñecidos y olvidados por el ritmo rápido de El Bosque Negro, por su estética, por ser un soplo de aire fresco y por la incógnita que despierta en el lector, quien será incapaz de descifrar lo que sucederá a continuación.

“…ver la vida de uno mismo como una narración, tanto si se preserva como si queda totalmente olvidada con el paso del tiempo, no es la peor de las filosofías.”
(Frase del libro El Bosque Negro de Steve Hillard)… (mere)