REVIEW: “Drop” by D. A. D’Amico

Review of D. A. D’Amico, “Drop”, in Starward Tales II, edited by CB Droege (Manawaker Studio, 2017): 7-38 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The reason I read short stories is to read stories like this one. From start to finish, I was enthralled. D’Amico’s tale of Fex, a man exiled from his desert city after an altercation with an elder leads to the destruction of precious water-providing plants, takes a completely unexpected turn when an earthquake hits and Fex slips through the cracks and falls down into a world utterly unlike any he has ever known. It is a classic quest tale, with a charge being laid upon Fex to repair the broken shard that has resulted in the atmospheric imbalance that has dried up his city and made them so dependent on their iviia plants for water. In the course of discharging this obligation, Fex learns that the scope of his world is far greater than he could ever have imagined.

From the start, D’Amico’s carefully chosen words drive home the desperation of life in a desert, and how precarious any desert civilization is. But when Fex visits a far away land that is drowning in damp and threatened by tsunami, D’Amico is able to make that land, too, dangerous and desperate. Reading the story, I was reminded of one of my favorite Genesis lines — “Within the valley of shadowless death, they pray for thunderclouds and rain. But to the multitudes who stand in the rain, heaven is where the sun shines” (“Mad Man Moon”, Trick of the Tale).

This story is one of the longer ones in the anthology, and worth every word of it. One of my beefs with short stories is that they often feel like they could have been much longer, and the ones I really enjoy I often wish were much longer, because they are read all too quickly. This story felt entirely complete in itself, leaving the reader satisfied and delighted when they finish it.

REVIEW: “Hills Like Teeth” by Michael Harris Cohen

Review of Michael Harris Cohen, “Hills Like Teeth”, in Starward Tales II, edited by CB Droege (Manawaker Studio, 2017): 77-80 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The pin for this was set in Appalachia, or thereabouts, indicating to me it’s likely to be based on yet another story that I am not going to be familiar with (if nothing else, this anthology is encouraging me to widen my reading in classical folktales and mythologies outside of Greece and ancient Mesopotamia!). The story itself is quite short, and gives away very few clues. It was tightly constructed, with precise and concise scenes, but I did come away from it wondering, a bit, what the point of it was. Part of my frustration came from its length, but part of it came from the almost complete lack of agency of the female main character, who appears to be forced to choose between allowing her womb to be used at the whims of others and suicide. There is something about such stories that I simply find so depressing. So, verdict: Not the story for me.

REVIEW: “Elemental Love” by Rachel Swirsky

Review of Rachel Swirsky’s, “Elemental Love”, Uncanny Magazine Volume, 19 (2017): Read Online. Reviewed by Jodie Baker.

“Elemental Love” is a story about the poetry, and romance, of science. If you feel a sense of wonder when you hear that ‘we are all made of stars,‘ this is the story for you.

An unnamed narrator details the remarkable nature of the elements contained inside their lover’s body. Under their watch, each component is revealed as a marvel with links to the wider world, remarkable properties, and a deep soulful poetry at the heart of their function:

One percent: Phosphorus.

Named the light-bearer for the morning star, for Venus glowing on its nightly rounds. It dwells in the membranes of your cells; it nurtures them; it mends them. Love’s namesake keeps you whole.

It is an unbearably romantic declaration. What a shame biology lessons were never like this in my day.

The narrator unfurls this list of elements in response to their lover’s query: ‘You asked: Why I would love you.’ And this is where the more traditional science fiction element of the story kicks in. It is revealed that the narrator is something other than human, and considers their own body less full of wonder. ‘There are no miracles in me,’ they announce towards the end of the story.

However, it is clear from the reported speech of their lover that not everyone agrees. The narrator’s miracles are the kind of engineered marvel that many a sci-fi fan can appreciate. The story ties up with a little bitter-sweetness, as the narrator casts doubt on the value of their own astonishing nature. Yet the reader is able to see that this romance is more equal than the narrator perceives, and leaves this story with the satisfying image of two beings tangled together in awe. Biology meets engineering, and both prove as fascinating as the other.

As in her Hugo nominated story of love and loss, “If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love“, Swirsky shows a deft touch for rhythm and feeling in “Elemental Love”. The flow of this story, the placement of line breaks, and the restraint of what Swirsky chooses to include about each element, all build to help this story move at a perfect pace; slow, rippling, and subtle. Let yourself be seduced by Swirsky’s way with words – you’ll never look at your own body the same way again.

REVIEW: “The Boy with the Golden Scales” by Ashleigh Gauch

Review of Ashleigh Gauch, “The Boy with the Golden Scales”, in Starward Tales II, edited by CB Droege (Manawaker Studio, 2017):177-187 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The pin for this story is somewhere in Alaska, which immediately caught my interest as I realised I know nothing about the legends and stories of that area. Reading such retellings in this anthology is a double-layered process, as a result, as I read the story first for the enjoyment of the story itself, and second to see if I can tease out which bits are hearkening back to the original story and which are new.

The pictures painted in this story are stark, and utterly unfamiliar. In the beginning, were it not for one brief mention of planetary travel, I would not have known that the setting was offworld, as opposed to deeply embedded in the past, or simply in a culture I did not know. It was only one small side reference, too, and it made me worried that this would be another story where the SF element was a thin veneer painted over the top, instead of being integral. To some extent, that worry was founded; there was one clearly SF subplot thread, but it was only ever that. I would love to read a version of the story that inspired this one, to compare the two.

REVIEW: “Shadow Man, Sack Man, Half Dark, Half Light” by Malon Edwards

Review of Malon Edwards, “Shadow Man, Sack Man, Half Dark, Half Light”, Podcastle: 495 — Listen Online. Reviewed by Heather Rose Jones

This story is something of a follower to the author’s previous Podcastle story “The Half Dark Promise” (episode 287), focusing on the same protagonist: a young Haitian-American girl in an alternate Chicago whose mother is a doctor specializing in steampunk medical devices and whose father is…something else. “The Half Dark Promise” was an immersive, darkly horrific tale with the sort of menace that can only be felt by a young child who knows the monsters in the dark are real. “Shadow Man, Sack Man, Half Dark, Half Light” brings in the more personal horror of family secrets and the sorts of fates that await disobedient children. The protagonist is a monster hunter–not by profession or as a hobby, but simply because monsters must be hunted to survive and protect her friends. But in the half dark as day turns to night, it can be impossible to tell who the monsters really are.

This is a story that requires you to surrender yourself to the world it’s building and wait for understanding to emerge from that half dark. I remember the first story being difficult in a good way–the way you have to work to build that picture and it’s worth it to do so. This time, having recognized the world, I was able to return easily. (And my impression is that the author is counting on return visits, so if you haven’t yet read or listened to “The Half Dark Promise”, I recommend doing so first.)

The prose is laced through with bits of Haitian Creole to good effect in the scene setting, and the cadence of the writing is yet another example of the type of story that works so well in audio. I also liked the steampunkish bits of worldbuilding: the references to the protagonist’s steam-clock heart, and how her mother came to Chicago to make clock-hearts for children stricken with polio, and how everything went so horribly wrong. Just enough bits to sketch a picture, and no more. This series of stories could be viewed either as fantasy or horror, and there are some times when I feel Podcastle is a bit too generous in embracing stories that really should be horror, but in this case I agree with the categorization because of the fiercely positive outcome.

REVIEW: “The Crane Alphabet” by L. M. Davenport

Review of L. M. Davenport, “The Crane Alphabet”, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet #36 Early Autumn pp. 7-8. Purchase here. Reviewed by Ben Serna-Grey.

This story is extremely short and sweet, reminding me a lot of Le Guin’s Earthsea, and I say that as a huge compliment.

The Crane Alphabet tells the tale of a novice in some sort of religious, possibly magical, commune, who seems to be mute. The one telling the story explains that another member of the commune, Marin, has been waiting to see if the novice will transform into a bird. The story is so short that to tell more would be giving away too much.

I will say that Davenport has woven a beautiful tale that speaks about fear of the fabled “other,” obsession, and the ways that obsession can transform a person. It’s one of the stand-out stories in this issue of the magazine and I highly, highly recommend it.

REVIEW: “An Unexpected Boon” by S.B. Divya

Review of S.B. Divya, “An Unexpected Boon”, Apex Magazine 102: Read Online. Reviewed by Joanna Z. Weston.

Wow. I loved this story. It has a wonderfully realized non-western setting (this one takes place in Vedic era India), two well-rounded main characters whose points of view complement and add to each other, and a nuanced, sympathetic take on mental illness.

The story has two point-of-view characters, First is Kalyani, a twelve year old girl who struggles with compulsions and has trouble reading people. I read her autistic, due to her frequent over-stimulation, dislike of being touched, and difficulty reading other peoples intentions and emotions, but I could be wrong. Next is her older brother, Aruni, who loves her but is also frustrated by her inability to fit in. I appreciated how warmly Kalyani was portrayed — autistic characters are often portrayed as cold or alien, but she came across as very sympathetic. She is engaged with the world, yet seems distant to others because her engagement does not quite mirror their own. Her relationship with her brother felt very real to me. He defends her against others and worries about her ability to survive in the world, but also resents her to a certain extent. By the end, they come to understand each other in a new way.

The boon referred to in the title offers Kalyani a way to engage with the world more easily, but does not change who she is, because she isn’t broken. When her brother says that he hoped the boon would make her normal, she replies “I will always be myself,” which is a touching message for all of us, but has particular resonance if we assume she is autistic.

This is a beautiful, engaging story that I highly recommend. Being neurotypical, I can not speak to the accuracy of the representation, but I thought it was deftly handled.

REVIEW: Stories from Daily Science Fiction, October 2-6, 2017

Reviews of stories published in Daily Science Fiction from October 2 through 6, 2017. Reviewed by Caitlin Levine.

I’m going to do something a little different here. I usually give short reviews of four of the week’s Daily SF stories and pick one to look at in length in a separate review. This week I had trouble limiting my wordiness to just one story, so I’m going to run a little long here…

“The Seven Deadly Genes” by Candice Lim, Oct 2, 2017: Read Online.

Lim creates a futuristic feel right off the bat with vibrant images of a world-of-tomorrow, while her characters’ actions and emotions feel just like our world today. She creates an interesting juxtaposition of the strange and the familiar, the advanced and the never-gonna-change. Our shifty narrator takes a quick turn for the honorable, leading us into an enthralling race against the clock.

For a society concerned with law and justice, we sure love the story of the honorable thief. Jean Valjean, who steals to feed his family; Robbin Hood and Zorro who steal to save their people. But Lim gives us a world where there is no justice, per say. No courts or judges to grant leniency. Laws are encoded into a person’s very body, and breaking a one of them means death. But for the honorable thief, there are worst things than falling prey to Greed.

“The Eternal Army” by M. K. Hutchins, Oct 3, 2017: Read Online.

Future meets past in a heartfelt tale of ancient roman soldiers and a future Rome. Mythology is layered with the worst of the modern world. Hutchins uses vibrant characters and clever dialogue to explore the theme of valor and the idea that “eternal” is not some characteristic of a place, but something that is created through hard work by those who refuse to let a place die.

I loved how Hutchins gave her roman character some old sensibilities but also made him completely accepting of how the world had changed.

This story makes me cry every time I read it – in a good way.

“The Interrogation” by Kelly Jennings, Oct 4, 2017: Read Online.

How would you handle it if you wanted to build a slave labor force that could never rebel? Assume that you have access to all that futuristic bio-engineering but you still have to use humans as your base. Give it a thought for a moment.

In Jennings’s story, they take the tack of keeping them cute and helpless. Jennings tells this tale as one side of a recorded interrogation, and does a fabulous job of making it understandable. The narrator manages to strike a tone that is both belligerent and helpless.

Now, the science in here actually works pretty well. Heads up for some light Spoilers: What this story is talking about is called horizontal gene transfer, and biologists think it has happened multiple times throughout the history of life on Earth. It is usually facilitated by a bacterium or a virus. Bacteria are always exchanging small gene packets with each other (it’s one of the ways that immunity to an antibiotic can spread so quickly), and viruses insert their own genes into a host’s chromosomes so that the host will replicate the virus. Because of this capability, modified viruses are often used as a tool in genetic engineering to insert the desired DNA into a new organism. Both of these mechanisms could end up inserting a piece of DNA from one host into another. It doesn’t happen often to multi-cellular organisms, but the possibility is there. Now, add to that a set of genes that are designed to mesh with the human genome, and have perhaps already been transferred by virus once? This isn’t looking improbably to me at all.

“Automaton” by Matt Handle, Oct 5, 2017: Read Online.

How do you tell a human from a robot? Or, a better question – how does a human tell whether they are a human or a robot? What, really, is the difference between the complicated programming of an advanced neural network and a human brain? Perhaps it is morality, emotion, and responsibility. And wouldn’t it be nice if you could give those up? Or maybe you just never had them in the first place.

Handle combines all of the philosophical debates surrounding otherkin with themes of personal responsibility and how we rationalize our actions.

“Glass” by Adam Dean, Oct 6, 2017: Read Online.

There area a lot of stories out there that take a look at Cinderella’s life after her marriage, but this is the first I’ve read that doesn’t deal with the short term. Instead of seeing Cinderella’s initial disappointment or delight, we jump forward years to see a Cinderella who has spent most of her life in an unhappy marriage. How could she leave, as a literal trophy wife? How bad do things have to get before she’ll try?

Dean’s story creates the same trapped feeling that comes with the fairy tale of Cinderella, told in an older and more world-weary voice.

This is Dean’s debut story, and a promising sign of work to come.

REVIEW: “The Zodiac Walks on the Moon” by Will Ludwigsen

Review of Will Ludwigsen. “The Zodiac Walks on the Moon”, Nightmare Magazine 62: Read online. Reviewed by Winnie Ramler.

The concept of the Zodiac Killer fascinates me. The use of incomprehensible symbols and clues leading the police on a chase- the mystery of it all is intriguing and spooky. A story from the perspective of this killer detailing his first kills and his desire to move from the darkness of obscurity into the light of fame allows for a lot of speculation. What drives a person to serially murder other people may not always be clear, but exploring these motivations can be and interesting foray into the human psyche.

For me, this piece turned into a meditation of sorts on our need as a society to sensationalize mass murderers. More specifically, I think about how we discuss the ever increasing number of deadly shootings and the detailed exposes on the shooters themselves. It makes me wonder how many other killers we create based on the fame they would receive alone. Although in this case it was the moon landing which drove this fictional representation of the Zodiac killer to crave the lime light, I think the core is the same.

I really enjoyed reading this piece. As much as they terrify me (which is kind of the point), I love reading serial killer stories. Monsters are one thing, but these are real people who could live right next door to you. There is a sense of safety involved in reading about terrifying creatures that you don’t find with serial killers. Anyone can make that shift. “All it takes is one small step.”

 

REVIEW: “The Discrete Charm of the Turing Machine” by Greg Egan

Review of Greg Egan, “The Discrete Charm of the Turing Machine”, Asimov’s Science Fiction November/December (2017): 14-34 — Read Excerpt Online or Purchase Here. Reviewed by Kiera Lesley.

“…surely the planet still needed more than one person with the same skills?” (p.21).

Increasing automation and issues of basic income are contemporary big ticket speculative fiction fodder. Writers are looking at what effects these changes will have and what society will look like after the changes have taken place – what comes next?

Egan takes a refreshingly close and human angle to these themes in this novelette, focusing on the time period just as the situation begins to tip away from meaningful employment for everyone, but just before good solutions have been found. It’s a transitional period and nothing is quite working right.

The novelette’s protagonist, Dan, is made redundant from his job at a debt purchasing and consolidation firm, despite being good at his work. He begins to suspect that the company has outsourced his job to a machine.

The Discrete Charm of the Turing Machine is less about Dan’s situation, though, and more a thoughtful exploration of how people would be affected by mass automation and related changes in various labour markets. How do you respond to large-scale change in a labour market when there are no viable alternatives yet and the old responses don’t work the way they used to? What happens if the services aren’t as good as they were previously, but are good enough? What employment prospects are left and how do you get them? What changes do you have to make to your lifestyle to cope with your new situation? What’s your least bad outcome? And how would corporations plan for and respond to the inevitable fallout of their ultimate end game?

Egan considers these questions through glimpses into the lives and experiences of different people in contact with Dan and going through similar employment problems. Seeing how these people respond to the circumstances – conspiracy theories, self-disillusionment, seeking frustrated justice – gives depth to the complexity of the situation at play. Policy makers often talk about a ‘primordial soup’ of solutions to a problem – this piece is all about showing that soup before the answers have been lifted out of it. The problems and solutions move around and opportunities are there to be taken, but not everything is necessarily viable and no-one knows what will work long-term.

The pacing is steady rather than quick, taking the time to consider all the elements of the premise being explored. I found the opening sequence a bit disorienting as well, but the narrative stabilised fairly quickly.

Importantly, the piece ends on a hopeful note, presenting the only sane path through uncertainty – focusing on what one person can do to help themselves.