Review: Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus


Hot on the heels of the second series of Iris Wildthyme audio plays earlier this year, the eponymous “transtemporal adventuress” and general drunkard makes a long-overdue return to print with The Celestial Omnibus, the first Iris anthology from the newly-formed Obverse Books. Helmed by Stuart Douglas and Iris creator Paul Magrs, the book boasts eleven short stories starring Iris herself, and current companion Panda.

I’ll admit upfront that I approached this collection with some caution, as I’m not enormously familiar with the lead character. Aside from her appearances in Doctor Who novels like Verdigris and Mad Dogs – both of which I adored – I’d not been exposed to her character, so I didn’t quite know what to expect, nor did I know whether I’d have enough background knowledge. Happily, both concerns are instantly alleviated by the book’s introduction, penned by Katy Manning, who portrays the current incarnation of Ms Wildthyme on audio. Anyone expecting special insight into either the actress or character will be disappointed, but it’s a perfect starting point for newcomers, an ideal refresher for fans, and generally rather lovely. (Any piece of writing which uses the word “lugubrious” gets my vote.)

The anthology proper opens with A Gamble with Wildthyme, by Steve Lyons. Compared to some of the later stories, it feels a bit slight, but it’s the quintessential Iris adventure – lively, funny, and a little bit insane. Taking an original look at those dreadful paintings of dogs playing cards, it’s essentially one extended pun, but the one-liners keep things moving along nicely.

Second in the anthology’s running order, Sovereign by Mags L. Halliday is perfectly placed, as it’s a complete contrast to the previous story, and it deftly demonstrates that the Iris Wildthyme universe can be far more than bawdy jokes and ridiculousness. Featuring none of Panda, and not that much of Iris, Sovereign is an exquisitely-told tale revolving around a Cornish legend. Tonally, it’s a gentler piece than any of the other stories, and is told in beautiful prose. I didn’t expect The Celestial Omnibus to come up with something like this, but it’s one of the book’s best.

Mark Wright and Cavan Scott contribute The Unhappy Medium, another pun-fuelled story which is worthy of praise purely for the use of John Le Mesurier's name as a curse. The authors offer one of the strongest characterisations of Iris in the collection – her personality is more defined here than it was in the preceding entries – and neatly twist the mood at the last minute, ending the story on an emotional note.

Future Legend by Stuart Douglas breaks the format of the previous stories, as it's told in the first person. It sees Panda corresponding with ex- companion Tom, with brief extracts of an email conversation with Jenny, another former traveller in Iris’ bus. Not having heard David Benson’s performance as Panda, and knowing nothing of the character, Douglas was the first author in the book to give the character a clear and distinct voice, and it’s that skill with characterisation which makes the story so impressive.

Phillip Purser-Hallard’s Battleship Anathema follows, loosely parodying both incarnations of Battlestar Galactica (complete with made-up swear word and silly call-signs). His ideas are good, and the execution is superb, but I’m undecided about some of his prose. For example, I’m still not sure whether “mere vacuum now becomes, in human presence, an abyss, an abandonment, a loneliness” is a snippet of poetic genius, or just throcking pretentious, even if it is part of the build-up to a nice pun.

The Dreadful Flap is Paul Magrs’ contribution to the book and, predictably enough, it’s another highlight. As well as being an excellent pastiche of Torchwood, it sees the return of Barbara the vending machine from Magrs’ Doctor Who book Sick Building, another Iris appearance from Noel Coward, and the most gloriously crude scene of the entire book (yes, page 110, I’m looking at you). Brilliant ideas, lively storytelling, consistently brilliant humour and sheer unrestrained insanity combine to make this an irresistible little tale.

Steven Wickham’s And Not a Drop to Drink suffers slightly from having to follow such brilliance, and is the closest this anthology comes to a real lull. Wickham’s plot – essentially “Iris gets drunk!” – and witty writing are let down by his characterisations, which don’t always sit right. I get the feeling that he has very strong, accurate mental ideas of the two lead characters (aside from the implications that Panda’s a real panda, anyway) but the dialogue is sometimes a bit off. That could be due to Wickham’s inexperience as a writer, but as the following story shows, new writers can easily stand up to old hands...

Because, you see, Cody Schell’s Iris Wildthyme y Senor Cientocinco contra Los Monstruous del Fiesta is superb. Really, properly brilliant. The plot is fantastic, the characters are vibrant, and the jokes are sparkling, but the best moment comes in the closing pages. Schell weaves in another of those unexpected emotional beats, taking the tone of the story in a new and surprising direction without being heavy-handed or manipulative, showing another side to Iris Wildthyme, and going further than any of the other writers in the book to contextualise her usual brashness. It’s also a story which shamelessly wouldn’t work as a Doctor Who adventure, because Schell so adeptly uses the best facets of the Iris format and characters to his advantage. Terrific stuff.

Jonathan Dennis’ Why? Because We Like You takes Iris and Panda to a theme park – the sort of setting which is just crying out to be mined for an Iris adventure – and it lives up to that promise, with a giddy sort of madness and a fair share of laugh-out-loud moments. Driven by one liners, but not afraid to turn dark when necessary, it’s another solid tale.

The Scarlet Shadow by Stuart Sheargold takes the anthology to a spookier place than it’s been before, with its creepy mood and atmospheric Russian setting. Sometimes, though, it feels like those two things are all it’s got – in terms of plot and character, this story feels quite thin on the ground. That’s not to say it’s bad, because the story’s rich flavour is more than enough to make it engaging, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that not enough is happening here.

The anthology closes with Steve Cole’s Only Living Girls, which is one of those stories which shouldn’t work, but does. It features two girls – the only survivors of a global apocalypse – who are obsessed with a television show, and abuse their position in order to fuel their passion. The idea is daft, but the execution is dark, and almost unnerving at times. Tonally, you’d expect the individual elements of Only Living Girls to clash horribly, but it somehow ends up as one of the book’s best stories, and is the perfect way to round off the collection.

The book is just as impressive physically as it is in terms of content, with some great cover art from “legendary Doctor Who artist June Hudson” (no idea, but I’m sure she’s never heard of me either) and a back cover in an appropriately garish shade of pink. My only gripe is that Anthony Dry’s beautiful Iris Wildthyme logo, which made its debut on the last set of audio plays, is relegated to the back cover and title page.

Such petty niggles aside, though, Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus is a great volume, inside and out. After such an impressive debut, my hopes are high for the following books. This one’s unmissable.