Short Reviews of Short SFF
Review of Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, “Reincarnation”, in David G. Clark, Callum Colback, Joe Butler, and Alex Hareland, eds., Beneath Strange Stars, (TL;DR Press, 2020): 377 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)
This spare, evocative poem makes for a wonderful closing piece to the volume, playing on the idea that we are all stardust, and stardust we will all become.
Review of JBMulligan, “Les Korrigan”, in David G. Clark, Callum Colback, Joe Butler, and Alex Hareland, eds., Beneath Strange Stars, (TL;DR Press, 2020): 365-376 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)
Good stories play with stereotypes and turn them on their head. Think of a fairy: What do you imagine? Small, fluttery wings, probably female…this is about as far from Les Korrigan as you can get! Les is a tough old manual laborer, powered by alcohol and full of “groaner” jokes, filing reports on the so-called “self-contemplative beings” to headquarters three times a day.
But being a fairy didn’t always use to be like this. In the story we learn about the Old Way and the New Way, and that Les’s father was caught in the transition from one to the next. Beyond that, though, I felt like I didn’t get much context for the story, nor very much character development or action. It was a strange little piece.
Review of Brian A. Salmons, “Legato”, in David G. Clark, Callum Colback, Joe Butler, and Alex Hareland, eds., Beneath Strange Stars, (TL;DR Press, 2020): 363-364 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)
This poem, described as “a pantoum after a line from Ursula K. LeGuin’s Planet of Exile“, is a beautiful one full of sweet longing. I wasn’t familiar with pantoums before reading this poem, but I have decided I love the style — full of ripples and repeats like the tide ebbing in and out.
Review of Jin Li and Dai Congrong, ed., The Book of Shanghai, (Comma Press, 2020) — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
The Book of Shanghai is part of a series of books which pick a city and then collect stories from/of that city. In the introduction to this volume, Jin Li provides a nine page overview of the history of literature and authors from Shanghai, from the late 19th century to the early 21st century, charting the evolution of the modern period of Shanghainese literature and the influence of western culture upon its development. It was fascinating and accessible and I learned a lot about a topic I had previously known very little. Thumbs up for that alone.
This isn’t the sort of collection that we normally review here, as most of the stories in it are of a more straight-up literary flavor, with little to no speculative elements in them; only a few stories fall under the spec-fic umbrella, to a greater or lesser degree, despite the blurb on the back making the stories sound much more fantastical than some of them are. Nevertheless, when I was offered a review copy, I jumped at the opportunity, having previously read and deeply appreciated two of Comma Press’s spec fic/SFF anthologies. This volume also didn’t disappoint. As usual, we’ll review each story separately and link to the reviews below as they are published. As is not usual, however, we’ve put an asterisk (*) next to the stories that do fall in the SFF/spec fic remit of this blog, so that if for whatever reason you wish to avoid the non-speculative stories, you can (though we don’t recommend that — they’re all good).
Review of Wendy Nikel, “Lonely Children Lost at Sea”, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue 302 (April 23, 2020). Read online. Reviewed by Richard Lohmeyer.
“The sea giveth and the sea taketh away” could well be the theme of this excellent story. It takes place on an island where a small number of children—only children—have been periodically stranded. Over time, the original children have grown up and a rough but functional society has evolved. More recently stranded children are cared for in a communal fashion, since “the miracle of conception, which reads like fairy tale magic in our books” is impossible on the island. Nevertheless, some of the original children, such as Theodore and Gina, have paired off, while at least one other, Loraine, finds herself in an unrequited love triangle. She yearns for something more with Theodore—one of her closest friends in childhood, as was Gina—while Gina yearns for a child of her own. She gets her wish when a new child, given the name Maris (or “of the sea”) is rescued. However, “be careful what you wish for” could be another theme of this story, and Loraine’s sense of foreboding, brought on by the adoption, is borne out.
Review of Eleanna Castroianni, “Who Goes Against a Waste of Waters”, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue 302 (April 23, 2020): Listen online. Reviewed by Richard Lohmeyer.
On the surface, this story portrays the struggle of the titular narrator and her brother to survive while living on their own in a dead giant’s skull in a graveyard located in a war zone. The kids are barely hanging on. Their parents, without explanation, have long ago departed, “headed eastward, to the Deep Night. No one fully alive knows what lies there.” It’s a brief, strange, dream-like story which, toward the end, seems to hint at delusion. Regardless, the story has an ominous, rather nightmarish quality. It’s certainly not a fun piece, but it’s worth reading.
Review of Karlo Yeager Rodriguez, “As the Shore to the Tides, So Blood Calls to Blood”, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue 301 (April 9, 2020): Read online. Reviewed by Richard Lohmeyer.
Like its companion piece in this issue of BCS, Rodriguez’s tale features two bitterly angry siblings. More than one set of them, in fact. The more interesting of these are portrayed in a genesis myth, related early in the story, of two god-like brothers who “divided the world between the bitter waters and sweet,” only to turn upon each other, like Cain and Abel. The rest of the story involves the more mundane, though still magic-infused, tale of a young boy abandoned by his older brother and forced to live under the tyranny of a cruel religious order.
I’m of two minds about this story. The opening scenes swept me away and left me eager to discover what would happen next. Unfortunately, the remainder of the story failed to live up to the promise of those early scenes. Still, Rodriguez is clearly a talented writer and I look forward to reading more of his work.
Review of Josh Rountree, “February Moon”, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue 303 (May 7, 2020): Read online. Reviewed by Richard Lohmeyer.
Things are not all they seem in the lead story of BCS’ latest issue. Someone or, as the first word of the story suggests, something is killing the animals at the small farm where the German immigrant narrator and two of her children reside. Her husband and oldest son are missing for reasons that provoke guilt in the narrator but are not initially explained. Rountree’s quietly horrifying story is a striking portrait of a solitary woman seemingly in need of a man’s protection—at least according to the men in the town near her farm—yet strong enough to resist repeated unsought advances. What help she does need comes from an unexpected source and, by story’s end, we learn the reason for her fear and guilt, as well as the source of her strength and despair. It’s an excellent story, wonderfully told. I like the title, too. It may seem understated, but it takes on added significance once you’ve finished the piece.
Review of James Sallis, “Net Loss”, Analog Science Fiction and Fact May/June (2020): 107–108 (Kindle) – Purchase Here. Reviewed by John Atom.
Contains spoilers.
The protagonist is unfairly sent to jail when a “smart” TV hears an argument between him and his girlfriend and calls the police. From then on, his life takes a serious turn for the worse. After he gets out of jail, his girlfriend leaves him, his landlord evicts him, and his name ends up on a sex offenders list. As such, he decides to give in and turn into a real criminal.
Except for the “smart” TV that calls the cops, there’s hardly any speculative elements in the story, so its place in Analog may be questionable. That aside, it was a pleasant read. The prose is written in stream-of-consciousness style, which makes the rather sardonic twist at the end (if one may call it that) work surprisingly well. It felt like navigating through an unstable mind, which I imagine is what the author intended. However, I’m not sure what the title “Net Loss” refers to in the story.
Overall, this was an enjoyable piece of flash fiction.
Review of Dominica Phetteplace, “Candida Eve”, Analog Science Fiction and Fact May/June (2020): 96–101 (Kindle) – Purchase Here. Reviewed by John Atom.
Contains spoilers.
Susana is the last surviving member of a terraforming expedition to Mars. An unexpected fungal pandemic claimed the rest of the crew while on flight, in addition to claiming millions of lives back on Earth. Despite the tragedy, Susana must find the courage and will to carry out her mission and create a new home for the future of humanity.
The story’s subject matter — i.e. a deadly pandemic — certainly makes it a relevant read at the time of publication (I’m guessing that is why it was included in this issue). There are startling similarities between the plague in Candida Eve and Covid-19. I’d be very surprised if all of it was just a coincidence.
Aside from that initial impact, however, “Candida Eve” leaves a lot to be desired. The prose is clear but relatively dry, making for a less than engaging read. Almost half the story consists of info-dumping about the details of Susana’s mission and the unexpected pandemic that devastated humanity. There’s little that actually happens in the story, and by the end, little gets resolved in a satisfying manners. There’s little sense that Susana overcame any of the challenges of her mission as she displays very little agency throughout the story.
SFF Reviews