A Condor's Fire: a novel

A Condor’s Fire is Richie F’lin’s semi-autobiographical tale of a young man, “R,” and his journey of love and discovery.

Largely due to its unorthodox use of anagram and evasion (Mr. F’lin is a self described “recluse” who jealously guards his own privacy and that of those closest to him), “A Condor’s Fire” has received a mixture of criticism and acclaim. At the time of publication, the New York Times Book Review decried the novel as a “bizarrely contrived piece of literature, whose attempt, though valiant, at channeling the epiphanic style of Joyce, and the magical-realism of Garcia Marquez, is ultimately unconvincing….” However, modern criticism is decidedly more generous, characterizing F’lin’s opus as a “brilliant masterpiece whose queer, anagrammatical character parallels the range and complexity of his source of enchantment, this ‘Cori girl’.” (1)

   The following is a brief summary of some of the more important chapters in Mr. F’lin’s novel, incorporating insights from F’lin’s biographer, Herbert Laycock.

Def, Sonic roar

   Beginning sometime in the summer of 1984, R began to experience a curious ringing in his ears.  Though nearly imperceptible at first, over the years the sensation quickly assumed a powerful character that the young man could no longer ignore.  R initially thought it a curse, as this feeling was apparently unique to him alone, and Defied explanation to his family and closest friends.  As he matured, however, the sensations became “otherworldly.”  By his early 20s, even the most forceful in his circle couldn’t dislodge his firm conviction that something special lay in his future.    

Thus ensued R’s furious exploration of the Pacific coast in search of an answer. After a few years, R began to grow disillusioned. (Full account of this period is made in the chapter, “Of rain’s decor,” and is omitted here).

Carafes Rondo Inn

   Brought by a force that can only be described as fate, R found himself, and his answer, in the unlikeliest of places—a small, Colorado mountain town.  On one glorious spring day, R walked into the Carafes Rondo Inn, and into the life of Cori, a mysterious young mountain lass.  (It is widely believed that F’lin chose the name “Cori” due it’s derivation from the Greek choris meaning “at a space; separately or apart from.”) (2)

Cori, Sea Frond

   This bar maid, Cori, had all the makings of something special.  She was beautiful, and she was feisty.  And her trickster-like quickness of mind stood in stark contrast to all that R had heard about the simple mountain folk inhabiting these strange lands.  (F’lin chronicles at length the effects of Cori’s strong ambrosia of guile and beauty, including one episode where R extinguished a fire with his mere backside, much to her apparent delight.  Such events are detailed in the chapter “Fried Racoons.”)3

Though immediately impressed by what he saw, the roaring in his head was not immediately quenched by a sudden, tidal force. Rather, her majesty overtook him “like the slow, soothing, but incessant waves of the Sirens,” bathing him in their inherent goodness, nourishing him, mind and soul.

Rise of Candor

   It was only after her departure to the West that R began to realize the true significance of this Cori.  He began to seriously court the young lady, utterly rapt by the certainty that she promised more joy and wonderment than he could ever have imagined.  Their affectionate frolics began to occur with more regularity, bringing evermore contentment into R’s humble life.  (There were, however, some hiccups.  At one point, a tongue-tied R tried to explain the significance of a “relationship.” But a misguided attempt at humor brought him dangerously close to insulting the young beauty.  Luckily, her highly cultivated understanding of human foibles enabled her to forgive her amorous suitor.  Such descriptions of her affable, fun-loving nature are presented in “Cori, Sofa Nerd.”)

A Condor’s Fire And so it was…though distance at times separated them, R’s knowledge that such a wonderful creature existed in this world was enough to finally quell the roaring in his head, and replace it with an exuberant fire which never ceased to burn in his heart. And however far she might be, the girl’s image was always in his mind and her name was forever on his lips… “Cori”…that simple and sweetest sound ever heard in any language. (The last page of the book features a picture of the author sporting a big smile).

(1) Critical Times. A Chronicle of Modern Literature and Commentary. Eds. Baliglow and Bennigan. University of California, Berkeley, 2003. (2) By the Book: A Biography of Richie F’lin. Herbert Laycock. Oxford University Press, 2009. (3) Ibid.