REVIEW: “Cara’s Heartsong” by Dawn Bonanno

Review of Dawn Bonanno, “Cara’s Heartsong”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

Wow, this story, published four years ago, was surprisingly difficult to read in the current climes of mass protests and riots, and a lingering insidious disease. Bonanno I’m sure had no idea what 2020 would bring, but her story reads very much like a picture of our near future. Except for the bit where physiology doesn’t work the same way in Bonanno’s world as it does in ours — a very pleasant little bit of world-building that I enjoyed.

REVIEW: “The Question of the Blade” by Alex Yuschik

Review of Alex Yuschik, “The Question of the Blade”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

What a beautiful and satisfying story to read this was. It’s the story of two childhood friends, Fel and Bas, and the different ways their heritages and histories dictate their future. There was a richly built world in the background of them, and a steadfast love between them no matter what tried to keep them apart. I was only a little bit disappointed by the ending, because I would have liked space to have been left for more character development.

REVIEW: “Earth is a Crash Landing” by J. G. Formato

Review of J. G. Formato, “Earth is a Crash Landing”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

Content note: Slavery.

This story was not at all what I expected. Celester, the narrator, is a self-described “Trashcan baby”, the sort of foundling who deserves to get stuck in a dead-end job issuing permits. And least, that is the facade that she puts up, not wanting to admit that there might be something else underneath her hard exterior. There are so many ways the story could then go, and none of the ways it did go were ones I could’ve imagined. There were twists and turns and hints and clues right the way through.

REVIEW: “All the Souls Like Candle Flames” by Vanessa Fogg

Review of Vanessa Fogg, “All the Souls Like Candle Flames”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

I continue to be not a huge fan of 2nd person narration — I’ve said it before, but I had being told what I am thinking or feeling — so that it takes something quite extraordinary for me to overcome my high bar for stories that open up with an instruction to me, the reader. Unfortunately, Fogg’s story did not manage to hurdle it, despite the 2nd person narration being restricted to the opening, scene setting paragraphs. But after having been told that I know the Sea Witch’s name (I don’t) or that maybe I’m already dead (nope, definitely not), I wasn’t in the right mood to find out the story of Mikki, and why a fish has feathers. I think this story could’ve been much stronger if those initial paragraphs had been simply stripped out.

REVIEW: “A Few Minutes More” by L. M. Magalas

Review of L. M. Magalas, “A Few Minutes More”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

Content note: Suicide.

The premise of this story is simply: Susanna, by committing suicide, has forfeited her right to the remainder of her allotted days, but she is allowed to designate someone else as recipient.

I wouldn’t have ever thought a suicide story could be heartwarming, but this one was. Magalas handled the delicate subject matter with care and sensitivity, exploring the ways in which our actions affect those around us, positively and negatively, in a story full of warmth and hope.

REVIEW: “Scrap Metal” by Tara Calaby

Review of Tara Calaby, “Scrap Metal”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

Content warning:Traumatic injury, death.

It’s always risky opening a story with a character waking up — perhaps even more risky to start not only the first scene but the second scene as well that way!

Mae’s been in a bad car accident, but she is “a very lucky girl”; after all, she’s now kitted out with the best cybernetic prosthetics available. With this, Calaby takes what could’ve been a rather pedestrian premise and threads it with through with the uncomfortable side of Mae’s luck: the way in which wealth rather than need or desert determines who gets the best of care after a traumatic accident, the gaslighting of a patient by their doctor, the fact that her new limbs might not be all they seem on the surface.

Quality SF with a hint of horror towards the end. Nicely done.

REVIEW: “Man-Fruit” by Clara Kiat

Review of Clara Kiat, “Man-Fruit”, Luna Station Quarterly 28 (2016): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

Content note: Abortion, physical abuse, non-consensual sex.

The story opens on the midwife Puring visiting Sisinia, who is “six moons away from giving birth”. But with Puring’s assistance, Sisinia might never give birth at all.

No one other than the mothers-who-won’t-be suspect that Puring is the source of the local abortions; but even more so, no one at all knows the secret behind how Puring does it, or the importance of the man-fruit to her life. Puring’s secret almost turns the story from fantasy into horror, Kiat mixing and balancing equal parts in her construction of the tale.

It’s not often I get a story set in post-Conquest central (or maybe southern; it wasn’t made explicit) America, which seems to me to be a real lack, because that is a setting rife with native fantasy and mythology that I would love to see more of.

REVIEW: “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of the Imadeyunuagbon” by Ekpeki Oghenechovwe Donald

Review of Ekpeki Oghenechovwe Donald, “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of the Imadeyunuagbon”, in Zelda Knight and Ekpeki Oghenechovwe Donald, ed., Dominion: An Anthology of Speculative Fiction From Africa and the African Diaspora, (Aurelia Leo, 2020) — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology).

Content note: Nuclear warfare, possible rape, nonconsensual sex, death, suicide.

The “sacred charge of Obatala” is that all the men and women of Ife-Iyoku be useful, whether through the cultivation of special gifts as see-ers or healers or light weavers, or through the application of themselves to general tasks such as hunting and cooking and childrearing. While all the rest of Afrika has been destroyed by nuclear fall out, Ife-Iyoku stands behind a protective shield, and it is the duty of those who live there to make their community as strong as possible, that they might survive until Obatala returns to save all of Afrika.

But these roles come with definite gender restrictions, with women coming out far the worse. When Ooni Olori receives a message from beyond the shield, life in Ife-Iyoku is threatened by invasion. Those who live there must question the patriarchal structures that have bound their lives and face a future radically different from any they have ever known. I enjoyed watching Imade, one of the main characters, fight back against the gender roles that have constricted her her whole life, and by the end of the story was deeply invested in her and her outcome. A strong and powerful story.

REVIEW: “Thresher of Men” by Michael Boatman

Review of Michael Boatman, “Thresher of Men”, in Zelda Knight and Ekpeki Oghenechovwe Donald, ed., Dominion: An Anthology of Speculative Fiction From Africa and the African Diaspora, (Aurelia Leo, 2020) — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology).

Content warning: Transphobic and ableist language; death; shooting of Black people by cops; murder; structural racism; rape.

Oooh, this was one uncomfortable story to read, with plenty of places in the first few pages that had me squirming in my seat. The focus of the opening scene is Officer Greg Fitzsimmons, member of Lincolnville P.D. and white. He embodies a lot of what I dislike in contemporary American culture — the ambient level of unconcern for people who are not like him is just gross. This story illustrates the power that a story’s author has over it: If this story had been written by a white person, reading it would have been a very different experience. As it is, what would have looked like callousness and ignorance looks instead like a very incisive criticism of contemporary American society and racial structures. There’s a reason I should feel so damn uncomfortable: Boatman’s depiction of how white people view Black people is not wrong.

But it wasn’t all uncomfortable squirming: At the end of the opening, vengeance in the form of the goddess Kisazi slams into the scene and lights the story up — figuratively and literally — and all the white bastards get the comeuppance they deserve. Thoroughly satisfying.