October's recommendation: The Fox Woman, by Kij Johnson.
The story of Yoshifuji comes, if I'm remembering correctly, from the Konjaku monogatari-shuu, an ancient collection of Japanese tales. It's fairly short, as such tales usually are, but Kij Johnson has done a remarkable job of fleshing it out into a full novel. She does it mostly by giving us several sides to the story; we see not only Yoshifuji's perspective on the matter, but also that of his wife Shikujo, as well as the kitsune or fox-woman herself. More than just this, though, Johnson also goes deep into the psychology of each character, fully exploring why each of the three acts the way they do.
And their reasons for acting this way are interesting in their own right. The tale is set in Heian Japan, among people of noble rank (although they are not at court for most of the story), and the ways and aesthetics of that time are fascinating. The amount of wordage devoted to telling us what kind of paper various poems are written on, and how they are delivered, is astounding, and may (in all fairness) put some readers off. But the best part, in my opinion at least, is that Johnson doesn't fall into the Japanese equivalent of soft-core European medieval fantasy, all tapestries and jousts and chivalry (as Alex Irvine derided it at World Fantasy); she turns, every so often, and reminds us that these were real people, and the vision we get of Heian Japan through works like The Tale of Genji leaves a lot of stuff out. Like the dirt. Everybody pretends it isn't there, but it is. People have stains on their clothing, and they don't wash their hair often enough. But they cover it all up with a veneer of poetry, and thus create an entire world in their own minds.
That creation of worlds, and the role poetry plays, and how people may dream of one thing while being another -- these are the themes that run through the book. Johnson's style flags occasionally, and her habit of jumping tenses annoyed me from time to time, but there's still some very good stuff in here, period detail used to comment on dreams and magic. And in the end, you feel sorry for all three of the characters in their different ways. The Fox Woman is not precisely tragic, but neither does it go for a facile, happy ending. Johnson knows better than that.
Many thanks to Reyna Tod, for loaning me this book. Even if it was for a paper. <g>