Dark Faith: Invocations edited by Maurice Broaddus and Jerry Gordon

book

Dark Faith: Invocations edited by Maurice Broaddus and Jerry Gordon (Apex Publications, 2012) is a themed anthology looking at the phenomenon we call faith. As a word, it’s actually rather interesting. In its more literal sense, it refers to the constancy of a belief. The trust is so complete, the belief is held even though there’s no empirical evidence to verify it. So what gives rise to such confidence? The answer comes in the more connotational levels of meaning. Something must happen to create the trust. It starts as an intellectual process as the person learns about what others believe. This knowledge on its own is not enough. When the knowledge is absorbed, the person must decide to join the others in believing the knowledge to be true. The question, of course, is what persuades each person to become dogmatic in the belief? It’s a transformation of great significance, moving from intellectual understanding to a creed upon which to base future identity and behaviour. The point of this anthology, therefore, is for each author to offer a different view of this process for creating faith and understanding the limits of the faith, if any.

 

“Subletting God’s Head” by Tom Piccirilli has a nice sense of humour about what it would be like if you could move into God’s head as a tenant with Jesus just down the hall and the Garden of Eden on the third floor. In a relatively short piece, it challenges us to consider what our relationship would be with a deity as a landlord who knows our sins and has a track record of throwing tenants out of third-floor Gardens if they break the house rules. “The Cancer Catechism” by Jay Lake is a moving autobiographical piece translating his continuing experience as a cancer patient into an exploration of how it feels when the reality of death has to be confronted. “The Blue Peacock” by Nick Mamatas introduces us to the Yezidim. This is a Kurdish religion. It’s considered by some to be a heretical branch of Islam that worships the Devil. Alternatively, they believe that God placed the world under the care of seven angels led by Tawsi Melek, the Peacock Angel. As a distant relationship, this works well but there might be unfortunate side effects if Tawsi Melek actually arrives to administer human affairs, i.e. it might lead to lots of shitting unless you can be born again.

 

“Kill the Buddha by Elizabeth Twist is a wonderful variation on “alien invaders from another dimension”. This time, it’s the Buddhas and they’re back to make us feel good about ending it all. Thank God (that’s the Christian one, of course) for warriors like Gretchen and Scott. With them fighting on our side, humanity stands a chance to avoid transcendence — assuming that’s a bad thing, of course. Pursuing the idea of a fighter, “Robotnik” by Lavie Tidhar asks how a soldier gets through each day knowing the next combat situation could be his last. This will be all the more challenging for the advancing generations of cyborg troops. What will they believe in when their bodies can be repaired, their minds reborn? The answer is elegantly tragic. “Prometheus Possessed” by Matt Cardin switches to a different battlefield where a society comes under attack from a contagious psychic sickness. Only those Curers working in Psychic Sanitation on the frontline of diagnosis and treatment can keep safe the society resulting from Global Reformation. Unless, of course, the Sickness itself cannot be detained and treated in physical terms. Or perhaps ironically the Sickness will be a cure for society’s ills.

 

“Night Train” by Alma Alexander is about a woman who finally sees an end to the personification of her hopes and dreams as emotional winter comes. And yet. . . the Spring follows. She learns that, to persist through the dark night, all it takes is a little faith or faith from a little one. “The Sandfather” by Richard Wright deals with the tragic reality of bullying and shows one boy’s attempt to find happiness. “Sacrifice” by Jennifer Pelland asks the question we’d all rather not consider. Suppose God is real and He makes us a “one-time, life-or-death, take-it-or-leave it” offer, would we accept it? This is a delightfully cruel answer. “Thou Art God” by Tim Waggoner is elegantly cynical on the downside of godhood and the whole omniscience/ omnipotence thing. I mean who’d want that! In the same breath, “Wishflowers” by Tim Pratt tantalises with the magic of the old childhood game played with the seedheads of dandelions. He offers the idea we all need someone to show us the way but how far should sharing go? “Coin Drop” by Richard Dansky offers us a slightly different version of the apple-in-the-Garden trope. Free will is a tricky thing. To take the apple or not? To be or not to be. Now that would really be a good question. Similarly, if we think in Big Bang terms, the beings you would get with your “Starter Kit” by R J Sullivan would only be tiny specks of life. Even with a distorted time sense, they couldn’t possible be real in our sense of the word, could they?

 

“A Little Faith” by Max Allan Collins & Matthew Clemens shows that, when you’re praying for rescue, you need to know God works in mysterious ways (if you’re lucky, that is). “The Revealed Truth” by Mike Resnick gives us the background on the Miracle at Miller’s Landing and explains why the resurrection was only transitory. “God’s Dig” by Kelly Eiro sends our hero digging for the truth in his own backyard. “Divinity Boutique” by Brian J Hatcher sells the God you need for the truth buried in your heart. “The Birth of Pegasus” by K Tempest Bradford recasts the moment Perseus killed the Gorgon as a kind of mirror Oedipus complex by surrogate that allows a daughter to kill her mother to better understand her. “All This Pure Light Leaking In” by LaShawn M Wanak suggests it might be dangerous to hold a séance and try calling an angel. “Fin de Siècle” by Gemma Files takes us back to the idea of the Peacock Angel and shows us a different way in which art and religion may intertwine and devolve into decadence, addiction and death.

 

“The Angel Seems” by Jeffrey Ford demonstrates the extent of the problem that can arise when a newly created angel turns on God. It undermines the people’s faith in Him and may lead to a more general rejection of the deity. “Magdala Amygdala” by Lucy A Snyder suggests angels might remember it for us wholesale — so long as they survive the transformation, of course. And talking about transformations, “A Strange Form of Life” by Laird Barron suggests a new variety of cordyceps — those parasitic fungi — might be able to infiltrate humans in a warm underground environment. Now that might really produce flowers of a different hue. “In Blood and Song” by Nisi Shawl & Michael Ehart magic flowing from African gods helps fighters survive when a riot breaks out. It’s also possible this may signal the start of a new cult. The thing about cults is they usually start small but can grow dominant. “Little Lies, Dear Leader” by Kyle S Johnson tells of the dangers faced by missionaries in countries under the leadership of someone strong. When the evangelisers go, they leave behind those who have heard the call but now need to survive. Finally, “I Inhale the City, The City Exhales Me” by Douglas F Warrick sees a confusion at multiple levels between male and female, Japanese and American, manga and reality. If no-one’s entirely sure who they are, how can they relate to each other when their belief systems are so far apart?

 

Taken overall, Dark Faith: Invocations is a highly successful anthology, ranging in tone and content across religions like Christianity, Islam and Buddhism, while flirting with magic and other belief systems. We run the gamut of sincerity, honesty, irony, cynicism and humour, something to be treasured when so many editors and publishing houses choose not to explore the darker corners of faith. There are some outstanding stories here and, no matter what you believe, this is a book worth reading.

 

Dramatically effective jacket art by Anderzak.

 

A copy of this book was sent to me for review.

 

The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois

book

The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois (Macmillan, 2012) is another wonderful anthology. There’s genuinely something for everyone here.

“The Choice” by Paul McCauley is not just an excellent story about how alien technology comes to be swimming about in our oceans, it’s a masterclass in how to construct a story so that all the background is delivered without intrusive infodumps and the ending comes with a beautiful surprise. “A Soldier of the City” by David Moles asks the age-old question of why people fight. It may be out of a sense of patriotism or a generalised love for the leader. Whatever the reason, should the country or leader suffer a serious injury, the desire for revenge will dominate, soldiers will set off in anger. After the fighting has died away, what then remains for the surviving soldier, cut off from his people? “Dolly” by Elizabeth Bear converts the rather dry Asimov approach to the Three Laws of Robotics and finds an essentially human way of looking at an android that appears to have been used as a murder weapon. Assuming, of course, that a hacker could reprogram a machine. The result is a pleasingly provocative way of assessing what might constitute a just outcome once all the options are laid out on the table. “Martian Heart” by John Barnes is another very human story about the transformation people can achieve in themselves when they’re in love. Even the most unpromising of men can come good to fulfill a promise made to a woman left behind.

“Earth Hour” by Ken Macleod is a really nice story showing how the fact of an assassination, successful or not, can be a most promising move in a deep game where millions may be won or lost in stock trading and preparations for war may be advanced. It’s a most elegant blend of politics and future history. Continuing into the near future, “Laika’s Ghost” by Karl Schroeder shows us a different way of getting to other planets using profoundly dangerous technology for peaceful ends. Except once the peaceful have shown the potential, what will the militarists do? “The Dala Horse” by Michael Swanwick goes into a post-apocalyptic future where a death necessary for survival may trigger a second death out of compassion. Because of its uncertain context, the focus on the emotional essentials makes this rather poignant as the survival of the species may just have taken a step backwards.

“The Way It Works Out and All” by Peter S Beagle invites to consider the possibility that Avram Davidson might just have discovered a series of different dimensional doors through which one might pop from here to there and back again. Except could it also apply to those who have died? Our author is waiting for word on whether Avram can make it back. “The Ice Owl” by Carolyn Ives Gilman is a particularly elegantly constructed story parallelling examples of racial genocide on Earth with a story set on a world with three primary races. It considers the question of responsibility both for those who were naive collaborators and for those who now hunt government and military officers, ostensibly for trial but often for revenge killing. In the contemporary context, all it takes to produce the death of the owl is for a young woman to fail to check the freezer on a regular basis, reinforcing the message you should never trust others to do what you should do yourself. Indeed, even if it was the last of its kind, what value does one bird have? How can it compare to the sweep of human history or the love between a daughter and her mother? “The Copenhagen Interpretation” by Paul Cornell is rather in the spirit of the Prisoner of Zenda transposed into a rather different format. It’s fun but I confess to being a little baffled by what’s going on. I’ll have to track down more of these stories. “The Invasion of Venus” by Stephen Baxter is one of these quiet and unassuming stories that sets off quietly and, before you realise it’s in the air, it’s hitting the bullseye. I mean just how Earthcentric do we have to be! If I was an alien, I would ignore us too. “Digging” by Ian McDonald offers us the answer to the age-old question, “What do you do if you find yourself in a hole?” This is a nicely elegant terraforming story set on Mars where the people are trying a different version of the wartime Dig for Victory campaign.

“Ascension Day” by Alastair Reynolds is a short but highly effective story about a trading venture that must, in relative terms, span thousands of years between star systems and hundreds of years on individual planets. How then must the crew divide itself between the various duties to be performed? “Silently and Very Fast” by Catherynne M Valente is a richly poetic exploration of what might come after humanity. This, of course, assumes that humanity births something new or something evolves from us. However it comes into being, would it be human? Perhaps it might contain multiple versions of itself as it iterates towards consciousness or nests versions of its identity like a Russian doll. Whatever it is, it probably could not stay on Earth. It would have to move away from danger or because it was a danger to humanity. “A Long Way Home” by Jay Lake is a delight, showing us an indomitable quality in the human survivor — a man who can endure and then face the future with equanimity (so long as it’s not boring, of course). “The Incredible Exploding Man” by Dave Hutchison has all the attributes of a great story. It has a simple premise which is worked through to a logical conclusion. It has a good sense of humour and is a great advertisement for sandwiches as a reward. “What We Found” by Geoff Ryman is an idea story in extended form showing a similar paradox to Schrödinger’s cat in which observing an event causes it to change. That would leave us with a very uncertain future unless observational scientific findings will always find stability just as, hopefully, parents will by creating loving environments in which their children can grow up. “A Response From EST 17” by Tom Purdom (good to see him still writing) is a nice first contact story in which the aliens have to decide which of two competing Earth probes to respond to and what to say (if anything because saying something can be very unsettling). “The Cold Step Beyond” by Ian R Macleod is a beautifully wrought version of an old idea: that before you can conquer another warrior, you must first conquer yourself.

“Militant Peace” by David Klecha and Tobias S Buckell is another of these nice idea stories and, although wildly improbable, it does ask some nice questions about the morality of not fighting a defensive war. “The Ants of Flanders” by Robert Reed is another alien invasion story but our hero is incapable of fear and so comes through the experience emotionally the same although his body does go through a minor modification. “The Smell of Orange Groves” by Lavie Tidhar is an interestingly reflective piece about the persistence of memory and the extent to which a shared memory may bring people together. “The Iron Shirts” by Michael F Flynn is actually a very good story but I’m not convinced it’s SF. It seems to be lurking in a hinterland of alternative history based on who got to America first. “Cody” by Pat Cadigan is a delightful story of a courier’s ordeal. Not that it’s a delight to him that he has an ordeal, you understand. But his defences are better than the ordinary criminal might expect. “For I have Lain Me Down in the Stone of Loneliness and I’ll Not Be Back Again” by Michael Swanick is story worth longer discussion but all I can say here is that it demonstrates the tendency of history to cast people as victims but there can be a break with the past when people emigrate. It’s a very effective mirror to moderately recent events. “Ghostweight” by Yoon Ha Lee is a pleasing story about the change in role achieved by demonstrating competence. “Digital Rites” by Jim Hawkins struck me as outstanding both in concept and execution. While not original, it has a lightness of touch and a particularly elegant metafictional ending as the credits roll on this film-industry epic. “The Bonless One” by Alec Nevala-Lee is one of these pleasing stories in which an encounter with a new phenomenon triggers a potentially destructive effect. The important thing to remember in such situations is that the duty to the living outweighs all other considerations. “Canterbury Hollow” by Chris Lawson is a melancholic tale celebrating the futility of survival and the magnificence anyone with courage can engineer for the ending. “The Vorkuta Event” by Ken Macleod is one of these vaguely Lovecraftian SF stories in which one small step for man may be one step too far (depending on your worldview and general allegiances, of course). The final story, “The Man Who Bridged the Mist” by Kij Johnson is a delightful exploration of how one should approach the unknown. Here’s a world faced by a genuinely strange natural phenomenon. It does not have the technology to explore it but a few brave souls believe they may have the ability to build bridges over it whenever the gap is narrow enough. Except just what are the limits when people may have such big dreams and, in an ironic commentary on the engineering, is it not equally important to build social bridges between individuals?

For brief comments on the remaining stories, “The Beancounter’s Cat” by Damien Broderick, “The Vicar of Mars” by Gwneth Jones, and “Dying Young” by Peter M Ball first appeared in Eclipse Four. See also “After the Apocalypse” in the collection of the same name by Maureen F McHugh.

For other anthologies edited by Gardner Dozois, see:
The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Seventh Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection

Dozois, Gardner & Martin, George R. R.
Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance
Songs of Love and Death
Warriors

This anthology has been shortlisted for the 2013 Locus Award.

 

Black Wings II: New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror edited by S T Joshi

book

Black Wings II: New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror edited by S T Joshi (PS Pubishing, 2012) sees the second anthology offering stories inspired by H. P. Lovecraft. I’m not convinced this is as good as the first but there are some outstanding stories to be found here (more towards the end than at the beginning).

“When Death Wakes Me To Myself’ by John Shirley is a Charles Dexter Ward type of story in which a mind from the past assumes control of a modern body, the main differences lying in the identity of the mind and the association with cats. It’s nicely done although, to my mind, it’s a little prosaic, lacking a truly cosmic feel. “View” by Tom Fletcher has a delightful sense of humour in describing an estate agent’s tour of a house for sale. With a little effort required of those viewing, they are rewarded by an exploration of a rather unusual extension. “Houndwife” by Caitlin R Kiernan is a richly evocative prose piece of temporal discontinuities as a woman iterates towards a destiny mapped out for her. She may have hints of the future courtesy of a tarot reading, or she may be the one who, in a thousand year cycle, finds a rather different role for herself as a human woman. Is this reincarnation and memories of previous lives, or are these discontinuities in memory from a single life moving inexorably to a climax? “King of Cat Swamp” by Jonathan Thomas gives a perfect demonstration of how the inexorability of the conclusion fires the tension. This is a beautifully judged piece of writing, not overstaying its welcome as the King returns to reclaim his home. “Dead Media” by Nick Mamatas is slightly flat being one of these trail-of-breadcrumbs type stories in which the curious end up in the wrong place. “The Abject” by Richard Gavin picks up the pace as human and alien tragedy overlap during an eclipse so that both get what they need to make their existences endurable. The atmosphere of this particular location is wonderfully described. If it exists, I would like to visit before I die or, perhaps that should be, so I can die happy.

S T Joshi — the ultimate Lovecraft expert

“Dahlias” by Melanie Tem is one of these unexpected stories which capture the imagination in a few words as different generations briefly share a moment and consider their own mortality. “Bloom” by John Langan is simply marvellous. The couple find a cooler sitting openly on the road and, thinking it might contain an organ needed for an urgent transplant operation, take it home and begin telephoning around the local hospitals. Only when all their avenues of inquiry come to naught does the notion take root that they have found something rather different. And, of course, after the rooting, comes growth and the blooms. As slow-burners go, this is one of the best. “And the Sea Gave Up the Dead” by Jason C Eckhardt is a not very original retelling of the usual island emerging from the sea. “Casting Call” by Don Webb shows the mark of a true professional is to stay calm no matter what’s going on around you. In this case, an actor who takes the Stanislavski method to its logical conclusion just fails to make the cut when Rod Serling holds a casting session for an adaptation of Pickman’s Model. It’s a pleasing riff on an old theme.

“The Clockwork King, the Queen of Glass, and the Man With the Hundred Knives” by Darrell Schweitzer is a remarkably good story — the best in the book by my standards — but I’m not convinced it’s even vaguely Lovecraftian. It’s clearly about access to different dimensions where battles for supremacy are fought, but anything else is all lies and speculation. Similarly, “The Other Man” by Nicholas Royle is fascinatingly spooky take on surrogacy, but the links to Lovecraft are tenuous at best. “Waiting at the Crossroads Motel” by Steve Rasnic Tem has the same problem if we’re going to be strict about looking for cosmic weirdness. It’s another engrossing story about the blending of humans and otherness with possible connections to themes raised in “The Mound”. Had I read it anywhere else, I would have been overjoyed. In this context, I’m not so sure. “The Wilcox Remainder” by Brian Evenson is thematically back on track with a very haunting story of an amulet that not only brings dreams but also judges the current person in possession. “Sorrelated Discontents” by Rick Dakan has that remarkable quality of a mistake in the typesetting of the title. It should, of course, be “Correlated Discontents” (as an aside, I noticed two or three other errors that escaped the proofreading stage but this is the first time I can ever remember seeing an error on the title of a short story). The story itself is metafictional in the recreation of Lovecraft, the man, through an AI project, capturing his personality and opinions through an analysis of the extensive collection of correspondence. The inclusion of the story bravely breaks with tradition and is a success. “The Skinless Face” by Donald Tyson wins the prize for the best final sentence. There’s a tradition in writing these stories that there should be something dramatic imparted by the end words. It does not need to be a “twist” but it should shed a different light on what has gone before. This archaeological dig gone spectacularly wrong is outstanding. “The History of a Letter” by Jason V Brock is a metafictional and intertextual contribution in which the author addresses us directly, explaining why he’s been distracted from writing the commissioned short story. The letter he has found is indeed intriguing and the consequences of his investigation seem to be advancing rapidly. Finally, “Appointed” by Chet Williamson is merely intertextual, finding parallels between a previous film and a con where fans can come and hobnob with the stars.

For a review of the first anthology, see Black Wings: Tales of Lovecraftian Horror.

The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four edited by Ellen Datlow

book

The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2012) demonstrates the art of the editor in balancing the simple against the complicated, the visceral against the thoughtful. As anthologies go, this is completely eclectic. There’s no detectable common denominator except for the tried and trusted “good writing” and “sheer inventiveness”.

“The Little Green God of Agony” by Stephen King is the work of a consummate professional. It’s obvious from the outset what will happen but, when it does, it brings a round of applause. How can you not admire the technique as the storm rages outside, the generator flickers and the man with a dickey heart does his thing? It’s magnificent melodramatic hokum and all the better for it. Indeed, it’s the inevitability of the ending that spices the horror and makes it so deliciously cruel. “Stay” by Leah Bobet is a particularly pleasing Wendigo story set out in one of these desolate towns where winter snow and ice forces a strong sense of community where everyone looks out for everyone else. To take advantage of this protectiveness, all you have to do is stay. “The Moraine” by Simon Bestwick is a tensely exciting humans hunted story. From my school days, I recall reading about terminal moraines and this certainly meets the definitional requirements as a predatory burrowing creature threatens a couple trying to decide whether their marriage is worth saving. “Blackwood’s Baby” by Laird Barron is a rather beautiful story on several levels. It works well as a piece of period writing, recreating the times when men would disappear into trackless forests to hunt, telling each other stories of their exploits around campfires. It also nicely captures class and national prejudices as this disparate band move further from the beaten track. It has the tense excitement of the hunt itself and, of course, there’s the central mystery of exactly what they are tracking. “Looker” by David Nickle is a very well executed variation on an old idea, nicely carrying through the suspense until the literal catches up with the metaphorical. In Parliamentary terms, when all lean forward to hear the result, the Speaker announces, “The ayes have it!”

Ellen Datlow continues to dominate the editorial world

“The Show” by Priya Sharma plays nicely with the current vogue for reality television shows exploring paranormal phenomena. With actual injuries sustained and the police involved, this episode would become one of those all-time classics with fascinating consequences for all involved. “Mullberry Boys” by Margo Lanagan first appeared in Blood and Other Cravings and is a very elegant rerunning of stories like the Punktown series by Jeffrey Thomas, describing the commercial exploitation of aliens as food or the source of drugs. This time, the trope is played as an exploitation of an indigenous people with a delightfully casual piece of surgery performed on a live source for our edification. “Roots and All” by Brian Hodge is a wonderfully evocative piece of writing. Although it contains a supernatural creature and a murder, it’s really a story about love and sacrifice, about the need for balance in all things as we fight for what we believe in and take responsibility for our own actions.

“Final Girl Theory” by A C Wise is pleasingly inferential, playing a metafictional game as our obsessive movie buff catches sight of the leading lady from a cult horror film and follows her home. The questions, of course, are whether anything shown in the original film was real and, if so, whether that means there’s any kind of threat to him now. “Omphalos” by Livia Llewellyn demonstrates that, sometimes, relying on a map is not enough. Sometimes you have to throw the map away and just rely on your instincts to get where you really want to go, right into the heart of everything. “Dermot” by Simon Bestwick shows that we’re in the modern age. In earlier times, Faust made a pact with the Devil. Today’s police force manages an exchange of value with Dermot even though people lose their souls in the process. “Black Feathers” by Alison Littlewood is a story that plays with the idea of transformation. This time it should have been of a child into a man but, on the way, something got left out. It’s always strange to see not only how protective older children can be, but also how often the younger ones decline to grow up as their elders intend. “The Final Verse” by Chet Williamson is a marvellous piece of country lore coming to us through the agency of bluegrass music — just another form of oral history, passed down through the generations and speaking truth to us if only we have the wit to understand the lyrics. This time, a folk music historian finds the holy grail, the last verse of an all-time classic. Except it means what it says and that’s a little unfortunate for him.

“In the Absence of Murdoch” by Terry Lamsley (first published in House of Fear). When I read this back in January, I said, “This should be a contender for an award for best short story of the year.” My opinion has not changed. “You Become the Neighborhood” by Glen Hirshberg is a genuinely strange recounting of events as a mother tells her now grown-up daughter what it was that made her just a little less than sane. Were it not the for confirmation of a neighbour, the daughter might dismiss this account as the ravings of a distressed mind. “In Paris, In the Mouth of Kronus” by John Langan (first published in Supernatural Noir) works rather better in this context, i.e. as a pure supernatural tale rather than as a supposed to fit into a “noir” themed anthology. “Little Pig” by Anna Taborska makes you wonder just what you might give up if your life was on the line. Finally, “The Ballad of Ballard and Sandrine” by Peter Straub takes us on a meditative voyage where everything is pared back to its essentials, until there’s nothing left except for the possibility of love and the final desire to experience a swim in the river of life.

The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four is a sensationally good anthology yet I have two entirely redundant thoughts. At the beginning, Ellen Datlow says, “The writers live in the United States, Australia, England, The Netherlands, and Canada.” The eiusdem generis rule of interpretation says you should always list things of the same status. All but England are sovereign nation states. England is a “province” of Great Britain, i.e. not even a unified law area which, technically speaking, would make it a “state” — for domicile purposes the “state” is now formally “England and Wales”. Secondly, the copyright acknowledgements are out of sequence suggesting that, at some point, “Dermot” was intended as the penultimate story.

 

For reviews of other anthologies edited by Ellen Datlow, see:
Alien Sex
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume One
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Two
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Three
Blood and other cravings
Lovecraft Unbound
Supernatural Noir

Alien Sex edited by Ellen Datlow

book

Alien Sex edited by Ellen Datlow has been republished by Open Road Media and marginally updated with an additional paragraph for the introduction and a little more contemporary information fleshing out the authors’ bios. It’s a bit of an old warhorse, an anthology of ten original and nine reprinted stories that first appeared in 1990. Such a gap in years makes me wonder whether it’s actually worth rescuing from the relative obscurity into which it had fallen. The title is self-explanatory. Whether directly or indirectly, it’s all about sex. But not, you understand, in a pornographic or, even, erotic sense. There’s no gratuitous titillation. What we actually get is rather more functional or allusive. This is not to deny different forms of activity are described. But this is not a “dangerous visions” type of book. Although one or two stories are reasonably strong meat, the intention is to deal with reactions to, or the context for, the activity which is often all too human.

“Her Furry Face” by Leigh Kennedy is a genuinely tragic story about a man who loses his way. You might always expect a student to be obsessed with work and not good with people but, when the studying is over and paid work begins, you hope for a transition into adulthood. Except this man has learned nothing useful about how to build and maintain relationships. In particular, he forgets the need for boundaries. More generally, the inevitable and callous racism is mentioned but, unfortunately, it fails to match Manrissa Man by Peter Van Greenaway which is the definitive approach to this trope, albeit without the sex. “War Bride” by Rick Wilber reminds me in spirit of William Tenn’s “The Liberation of Earth” but with a different slant, focussing rather on the desire of the alien Pashi to save just one or two of the Earthling “collaborators” — for entirely laudable reasons, of course. “How’s the Night Life On Cissalda?” by Harlan Ellison is slightly too long but nevertheless hilariously inventive. It should be required reading for everyone who wants to see how the world will end in a flood of joy and an excess of starvation. “The Jamesburg Incubus” by Scott Baker is also vastly amusing as our hero recovers from ingesting the radiation-soaked grain used to make the bread which then developed mould when lying uneaten in his refrigerator. Newly invigorated, he finds a remarkable new way in which he can spread himself around without appearing to stray (if you catch my meaning). It’s a very pleasing story of transition from a selfish man lost in his own fantasies to a well-balanced man with a strong marriage and exactly 2.4 offspring.

Ellen Datlow wondering how a couple can produce exactly 2.4 cildren

“Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex” by Larry Niven is a classic reprint, again dealing the physical problems should Superman and Lois Lane ever “get it on”. “The First Time” by K W Jeter is something extraordinary conjured out of the entirely ordinary desire of a father to introduce his son to the facts of life. That means a trip into town, a few beers to get up Dutch courage, then primal instinct takes over and the son ain’t no virgin no more. “The Jungle Rot Kid on the Nod” by Philip Jose Farmer shows the rawness of the 1960s, reinventing Tarzan in something approximating the style of William Burroughs as the Kid hangs loose, strung out on the best rot the jungle can provide. I’m not sure modern readers will understand where it’s coming from, but an oldie like me remembers reading it when it first came out. “Husbands” by Lisa Tuttle elegantly plays with the notion that biological sex may be binary, but gender is for each generation to define as it wishes. Who’s to say how a world might function if there was only one gender, or if we were to make the effort and define a third gender that everyone could accept. “When the Fathers Go” by Bruce McAllister is the fictional version of what it means to be married and have children. Of course, everyone lies about who they are. Sometimes, the lies are seductive and they lull us into love because we want to hear the truth in the words. Sometimes the lies are particularly convincing because they come from a telemanifestor and so everything we dream can seem real to us. Either way, we can tell ourselves we’re happy.

“Dancing Chickens” by Edward Bryant is a variation on the theme perhaps best captured in The Productions of Time by John Brunner and “Passengers” by Robert Silverberg where aliens jerk us around like puppets on a string. This story is slightly different from its forebears in its gay context and the more obvious physical cruelty in the sexual activity. “Roadside Rescue” by Pat Cadigan also parallels John Brunner’s novel with an alien working through an agent provocateur to get the sexual gratification it wants. The sting in the tail is, of course, the nonconsensual nature of this exchange. We humans lay down rules for those who engage in S&M. The submissiveness or domination is by agreement. This scenario is more spontaneous and, in its own way, a kind of rape. “Omnisexual” by Geoff Ryman is a fascinating story of how a man populates the world of his own imagination or, perhaps, it’s not his imagination. “All My Darling Daughters” by Connie Willis shows the possibility that abused daughters may escape the abuse if suitable surrogates can be found but, as between normally consenting teens, the arrival of surrogates might be a bit frustrating. “Arousal” by Richard Christian Matheson is a slightly weird story about an act of adultery, consensual in every way, but somehow unforgettable. “Scales” by Lewis Shiner takes us into the world of mythology and the possibility where, as Keats puts it,

“Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love’s sake”

“Saving the World at the New Moon Motel” by Roberta Lannes shows us you just can’t assume everything will be the same between different species but, if both parties are willing, it can be a wild ride. “And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill’s Side” by James Tiptree Jr. is one of these terrible warning stories in which Earthlings are cast as the primitives to be bought off by the aliens with trinkets and cheap geegaws. It shows us our ignorance condemns us to be screwed both metaphorically and physically if only we can get close enough to them. “Picture Planes” by Michaela Roessner demonstrates the universal desire of the battered spouse to escape the abusive partner. Finally, “Love and Sex Among the Invertebrates” by Pat Murphy leaves us with decisions made as to what should be the dominant species after we humans have bombed each other into oblivion. It’s an interestingly mechanical story.

Putting all this together, Alien Sex has some truly excellent stories, most of which have stood the test of time. The anthology shows that, when it comes to sex, the functional drive to procreate never goes out of fashion. Only our attitudes change and then only slowly. As a final thought, the fact I can recommend this anthology to contemporary readers is actually an accolade for Ellen Datlow. As an editor, she selected stories that avoided the obvious pitfalls inherent in the theme and still seem fresh today. She has impeccable taste!

For reviews of other books edited by Ellen Datlow, see:
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume One
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Two
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Three
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four
Blood and other cravings
Lovecraft Unbound
Supernatural Noir

A copy of this ebook was sent to me for review.

Gateways edited by Elizabeth Anne Hull

book

Gateways edited by Elizabeth Anne Hull (Tor, 2010) was intended as a celebration of Frederik Pohl’s ninetieth birthday by his wife. By coincidence, it would also have recorded some seventy years of Pohl as a writer, editor and teacher of science fiction. Except, such are the ways of modern publishing that the period of gestation between idea and the birth of this anthology saw the book appear somewhat later than intended. Nevertheless, it celebrates the life and career of a remarkable man. He, more than any other author still working, represents the transition from the Golden Age to more modern sensibilities. His first story “Elegy to a Dead Planet: Luna” appeared in 1937 and his most recent novel, All the Lives He Led, was released in 2011. Needless to say, this anthology remembers Gateway, the winner of multiple awards when it first appeared in 1977. If you have not already done so, you should read this novel (the subsequent Heechee books in the series increasingly fail to recreate the same level of interest).

“Shoresteaders” by David Brin is a rather curious beast, rather because it’s a novella-length excerpt from the new novel called Existence. It begins as a rather engaging story of survival. Global warming has melted the icecaps and left much of the world underwater. Groups of more wealthy survivors live behind dykes and seawalls, while others eke out a living by salvaging anything useful from the drowned buildings along the shoreline. A chance discovery then morphs the story in a radically new direction as our humble hero suddenly finds himself literally hijacked into the role of human interface with an alien artifact. Both parts are fascinating but the failure to reach any kind of natural conclusion leaves it as somewhat frustrating.

“Von Neumann’s Bug” by Phyllis and Alex Eisenstein is an elegant short story that contrives to set off one-hundred minor resonances with other stories I remember reading over the decades. It’s wonderfully knowing as it tips its hat at the old notion of what comes down must go up (or should that be the other way round?). I’m sure one of these infallible computers charged with our defence against ICBMs would know the answer. “Sleeping Dogs” by Joe Haldeman made it into The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois and remains a nicely cynical story capturing an essential truth abut those who have power and are not afraid to use it. “Chicken Little” by Cory Doctorow was also rightly considered one of the year’s best. It wonders whether the sky would really fall if someone decided to push humans along in an evolutionary way. Suppose we had a better idea of how to assess risk for example. Or natural scepticism could be enhanced. Ah, now, such developments really would be Earth-shattering. “Gates (Variations)” by Larry Niven is really just an extended joke albeit one that I could probably appreciate better if I was already plugged in.

Fred Pohl and Elizabeth Anne Hull still making a good team after all these years

“Tales from the Spaceship Geoffrey” by James Gunn is four vignettes of life on alien planets showing how each different set of conditions has shaped a different culture. It’s completely fascinating. Although the set-up should be rather clichéd with herbivores competing with carnivores with sentient vegetables, it contrives to avoid the usual traps by making the individual aliens who describe their planetary origins likeable as “people”. It forms part of a novel in progress called Transcendental which is to be published by Tor. “Shadows of the Lost” by Gregory Benford and Elisabeth Malartre makes an interesting point about the need to preserve prejudices from one generation to the next if you’re going to maintain progress towards genocide. “A Preliminary Assessment of the Drake Equation” by Vernor Vinge offers us some maths and a story to match the Piltdown hoax that turned out to have Paradise on the menu. “Warm Sea” by Greg Bear is a melancholic tale of a life ending and another continuing. “Errand Boy” by Frank M Robinson manages to make an end-of-days story exciting as the last Prophet humanity will ever need finally decides it’s time to preach to the congregation. “King Rat” by Gene Wolfe manages to cram half-a-dozen stories into one slim package which is no mean feat as our survival expert manages to make a life for himself when the spiders aren’t looking. “The Stainless Steel Rat and the Pernicious Procuswine” by Harry Harrison sees the return of Slippery Jim, sadly, in a rather inconsequential story that is all set-up and no pay-off. “Virtually. A Cat” by Jody Lynn Nye is a wonderfully ingenious way of dealing with what’s likely to be a major problem when we do finally get into space exploration. Some people really will need some kind of additional psychological support when they have to leave loved ones behind. That this is improbable doesn’t stop it from feeling the right answer in this situation.

The First-Born” by Brian Aldiss deals with an emotionally difficult subject as pregnancy in the Mars colony does not result in viable foetus development. It’s the low gravity. Perhaps the hope for the colony lies with the children who have travelled out with their parents. Their bodies will adapt to the environment. Perhaps their semen and wombs will prove more productive than those of their parents. Or perhaps Earth should just blame the women for having weak wombs and bring everyone home. “Scheherazade and the Storytellers” by Ben Bova recreates the Arabian Nights’ experience as a rather pleasing shaggy dog story for the edification of IP lawyers everywhere. “The Flight of the Denartesestel Radichan” by Sheri S Tepper takes a slightly heavy-handed satirical hammer to crack the old chestnut of “The end of the world is nigh”. While “The [Backspace] Merchants” by Neil Gaiman comes quickly to the point and then moves forward to finish well under the four hour deadline. Completing the comedy line-up is the hilarious “On Safari” by Mike Resnick, a truly wonderful advert for expert systems as applied to the tourist trade. No holiday could be complete without such tender loving care.

Biographical appreciations come from Isaac Asimov, Gardner Dozois, Connie Willis, Robert J Sawyer, Robert Silverberg, David Marusek, Joan Slonczewski and others. So, overall, Gateways is a fine celebration of the man, and some of the stories are genuinely outstanding. Whether for the biographical insights into the multitalented author and editor, or for the science fiction, or both, this is a very good anthology.

The novella by David Brin is a narrative thread contained in his latest novel, Existence.

House of Fear edited by Jonathan Oliver

book

House of Fear edited by Jonathan Oliver is predominantly a British anthology, filled to the rafters with the best of the current crop of our writers even if one is a renegade American now living in Scotland and another is a renegade Englishman now living in Amsterdam. Only two actual Americans have made the cut. This is not to suggest the haunted house is, or should be, a British speciality and others will trespass at their peril. But rather to reflect the taste preferences of the editor. This is his second anthology for Solaris Books — for the record, Jonathan Oliver is the Editor-in-Chief for both Abaddon Books and Solaris Books.

“Objects In Dreams May Be Closer Than They Appear” by Lisa Tuttle is a beautifully told variation on a traditional scenario. The realisation of the woman is perfect in pitch as she finds herself once again in a car looking for that dream house. “Pied-à-terre” by Stephen Volk is another story where the characters of those involved are instantly recognisable. The two marriages are captured in a relatively few words. Having lived for a time in a house not unlike the one described, the type of home strikes a resonance in my memory. The only element of uncertainty is the author’s decision to make the ghost a real person. It’s not that I disapprove. Indeed, the story hangs on the issue of identity. But I’m not sure it’s entirely fair on the reader because it changes the nature of the experience from straight fiction to a kind of parable in which a message about how to find happiness (or avoid further pain) is passed from “beyond the grave”. In Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen offers us a fantasy in which a hack screenwriter is given the chance to hang out with Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, et al. This strikes me as legitimate magic realism because we’re asked to see the characters as they were in life. Stephen Volk seems to be inviting us to see this ghost as a kind of catalyst to encourage women to re-evaluate their lives. I don’t know, off-hand, whether this person was a counsellor or interested in supporting battered wives but the ghost is apparently appearing to a “type”. It’s not a notorious fact about this individual’s life. So I’m inclined to think Stephen Volk is imposing this motive on to the ghost and thereby converting a good story into something gratuitously exploitative.

“In the Absence of Murdoch” is a completely entrancing contribution from Terry Lamsley. He’s been a consistent performer for some years now (shame no-one has ever been able to persuade him to write a novel) and this displays a slightly weird sense of humour at work as birds of different types leave the nest and/or crash on landing. This should be a contender for an award for best short story of the year. “Florrie” by Adam L G Nevill takes us down the well-trodden path of possession as the new owner of a home finds himself increasingly identifying with the interests and prejudices of the older generation. This is elegantly done. “Driving the Milky Way” by Weston Ochse is another wonderful story, this time dealing with the innocence of youth. That it bends the editorial brief by selecting an RV rather than a house is neither here nor there. There’s great sadness here and, although the survivor’s response is not terribly rational, his obsession is credible. I hope he can join his friends on their journey.

“The Windmill” by Rebecca Levene nicely diverts the reader’s attention and produces a slightly vicious story of revenge. Imagine a man slowly losing the things he holds most dear, starting with this car. It might tip him over the edge. “Moretta” by Garry Kilworth is somewhat less successful in that it’s traditional with people dying in an old house. In these days of fictionalised CSI technicians to pore over all potential sources of evidence from the scene of unexplained deaths, including all the furniture in the rom and the bedding, it seems inconceivable the house could have remained in the state as described in this story. Personally, I would have cleaned and tied up the place, changing the bedding before sleeping in the bed. Perhaps I’m more fastidious than our heroes. This is not to deny the creation of good atmosphere, but to recognise a falling off from the more general high standard of stories to date.

Jonathan Oliver: Mac owner but not yet wireless

“Hortus Conclusus” by Chaz Brenchley restores us to a more inventive approach with the sad truth that the dead may be jealous of our continued life. Why should they be the ones to die? Why couldn’t it have been us? Moving along: as an atheist, I can only say, if I was going to have a God, “The Dark Space in the House. . .” by Robert Shearman gives me the picture of the kind of guy I would want, even though He does seem somewhat hung-up on negative psychology. This is great fun. “The Muse of Copenhagen” by Nina Allan is a most pleasing story of a succubus from Scandinavia finding a home in England.

Christopher Fowler inverts expectations in “The Injustice” by speculating on what people should do with the evidence they obtain when searching for the supernatural. To whom do they owe a duty of care? Put another way, if the ghost-hunters fail to act on what they find, should they be liable for any injustice this causes? Perhaps I should not be surprised to find stories of real emotional intensity in a book blending the supernatural with horror but “The Room Upstairs” by Sarah Pinborough adds a rather unexpected dimension. Other stories in this anthology have dealt with varying shades of emotion in a fairly narrow range. This represents a provocation into more honest feelings. What we have lost can never really be recovered. All we can hope to do is replace the missing with something new that helps take away the pain. Even then there’s no guarantee of lasting happiness, only the hope of better times to come. “Villanova” by Paul Meloy plays in the same sandbox as the seminal The Stone Tape by Nigel Kneale. Sometimes places record past events and, given the right trigger, these recordings can be replayed. So it is when a family go on a holiday break to a French campsite out-of-season. They find themselves caught up in a replay of what has gone before.

“In Widow’s Weeds”, Christopher Priest has come up with an interesting way of giving tuition. Although the learning outcomes appear significant, there may be downsides to explore before marketing this method for more general use. “The Doll’s House” by Jonathan Green is a classic story as postpartum depression may have been triggered by the arrival of the titular toy and its housekeeper. “Inside/Out” by Nicholas Royle is intriguing both as a commentary on our station in life (in a more general version of the u and non-u sense) and as a story about a man who finally reconnects with a memory of a tender moment only to recognise this internalised memory may be a trap. “The House” by Eric Brown is an elegant variation on the “house” theme, nicely trapping our older hero in the clutches of his dead wife’s curse. Let’s hope the moonlight ending is real and not a “ghostly chicken coming home to roost”. “Trick of the Light” by Tim Lebbon takes us down another well-trodden path but does so with some style. Finally, “What Happened To Me?” by Joe R Lansdale produces the ultimate grandstand finish. It captures the simple trusting love a young girl may have for another girl met in the woods. She brings the girl home and they grow up together but, as is always the way with families, there comes a time when these friends must part, leaving the girl from the woods behind. She grows bitter and angry with anyone who comes to occupy the house. It’s a riveting, page-turning read leading to a genuinely satisfying note on which to end the anthology. If hauntings are evidence of bitterness and anger, let’s hope there can always be a chance for reconciliation and healing.

Without exception, these stories most powerfully create a sense of the places and the people who inhabit them. Rather than merely plot-driven, they show us the humanity of those who may find themselves exposed to the supernatural. Weak or strong, everyone does their best to move on with their lives, although not always with complete success. This is a singularly impressive anthology. The fact I have spent rather longer than usual discussing these stories should indicate how much I have been provoked into thought (in a good way, of course). House of Fear should be read by everyone with an interest in high-quality ghost and horror stories.

A copy of this book was sent to me for review.

For the record, House of Fear has been shortlisted in the Best Anthology category by the British Fantasy Society, with “Florie” by Adam Nevill shortlisted in the Short Fiction category.

Blood and other cravings edited by Ellen Datlow

book

It’s always a challenge to put together a themed anthology. Too many stories feeling the same can leave the reader with a jaded palate. In Blood and other cravings, we’re offered vampires, except Ellen Datlow challenged her authors to avoid the traditional while still providing something that would feed upon others.

 

It all begins beautifully with “All You Can Do is Breathe” by Kaaron Warren. The question, of course, is what else a predator might want to take from its victim? This is a desperately sad story of what the trauma of being trapped underground for days can do to people. When first rescued, they can seem bouncy and glad to be alive. Later, depression overwhelms them. They seem empty, as empty as if something had sucked all the life out of them. “Needles” by Elizabeth Bear is somewhat more traditional with a couple of creatures moving from town to town, each finding relief and sustenance in their own ways. The nice thing about it is the essential tedium of the lifestyle. They run from and to each satisfying release only to have to do it all over again the next day and night. “Baskerville’s Midgets” by Reggie Oliver is the first of two reprints. It’s a beautifully judged atmospheric tale of seven midgets who come back for their Snow White. Who would have thought a game of hide-and-seek could make the bond so strong. “Blood Yesterday, Blood Tomorrow” by Richard Boyd asserts there’s a cycle in fashions. Sometimes it’s in to be a vampire. The other times, you have to go cold turkey which has little blood and is unsatisfying. Once you’ve kicked the habit, the years may pass, but not the nostalgia for the excitement of it all. What would it be like if it could start all over again?

 

As an irrelevant note, it’s always fun when an author locates a story in a place you know. “X For Demetrious” by Steve Duffy picks on Penkull which really does have a vampire history. I should know. I used to drink in The Wellington just round the corner from The Villas. Based on the facts, this is a beautifully told story of a life-long obsession and torment. Sometimes people never can break out of the mould they are forced into at birth and by their upbringing. “Keeping Corky” by Melanie Tem is a fascinating and daring exercise in point of view with a mother struggling to remember her child and then finding she has lost him. This is an affecting and tragic story in which, despite the effort of those who believe they know better, the love and hope of reunion is never sucked out of her. “Shelf-life” by Lisa Tuttle is another highly inventive way of bending the vampire trope. The sense of family is particularly powerful as mothers intervene to protect their daughters. Who can say whether the potential danger can ever really be neutralised. “Cauis” by Bill Pronzini and Barry N Malzberg plays with the notion of emotional and ideological vampirism, suggesting a different form of manipulation and extraction routinely available in our everyday lives, if it’s to our taste, of course. “Sweet Sorrow” by Barbara Roden develops the theme of emotions as food in a stand-out story of loss and despair, first by parents and the neighbourhood, later by just one incautious individual who should have known better.

Ellen Datlow receives the accolade of flowers

 

“First Breath” by Nicole J LeBeouf is one of those rather pleasing stories that blends the supernatural and the physical together. It’s entirely possible there are predatory spirits waiting to take possession of our bodies. The pertinent question is where they originate. “Toujours” by Kathe Koja is another of these beautifully judged stories in which a slight variation on the role of Éminence grise brings us the inside story on the power behind the throne: first buy the throne, then find someone to sit on it, and not be afraid if someone appears to take the “king” away — repeat as necessary. “Miri” by Steve Rasnic Tem is a story of mental disintegration as an artist finds his world losing its colour and slipping into an increasingly dislocated black and white. What is it, exactly, that encourages a man to give up on himself, his job and his family? Perhaps remembering someone he once knew could be a trigger. “Mrs Jones” by Carol Emshwiller, an old but delightfully weird story from 1993, sees one sister take her chance for a little affection when something obviously male appears in their orchard, albeit the other bits might give cause for concern. In “Bread and Water”, Michael Cisco teaches us that diseases may come in many different forms. If you are unlucky and catch one, you may surrender yourself to death only to find the end does not come as easily as you were expecting. Indeed, more startlingly, what if you began to recover although not quite as you were before?

 

“Mulberry Boys” by Margo Lanagan is a powerful story about the exploitation of a people thought inferior. It’s perhaps appropriate for this to be an Australian story given that the urbanised immigrants of that distant island continue to discriminate against and abuse the aborigines. This story matches others in which “people” are treated as a natural resource and either harvested directly or farmed for what natural product they produce inside their bodies. This is particularly creepy and makes us root for the possibility of them throwing off the yoke of oppression. “The Third Always Beside You” by John Langan is almost an old-fashioned story in which the nature of the supernatural occurrence may seem rather less threatening except, of course, the actual effect on the couple is plainly horrific in psychological terms assuming, of course, they are both aware of it. Perhaps it’s our uncertainty as to whether they are wholly aware of it that’s so unsettling. Finally, in “The Siphon” by Laird Barron we get to ask whether psychopaths are merely human or have connections to creatures living in the cracks between the worlds. In this case, a man with secrets is eventually recruited by the NSA and finds himself at the centre of an operation to track a spy who might want to “come in from the cold”. Unfortunately, this spy is also of interest to other people of power which leads to some tension between the different groups and the sense our hero’s secrets may no longer be safe.

 

Taken overall, Blood and other cravings shows Ellen Datlow at her best. Although the theme is set, the diversity of responses from the authors is remarkable. Indeed, it’s entirely possible that, if you picked up the book without the jacket (which is more slasher than vampire) and failed to read the introduction, you might not realise this was a themed anthology — which is the highest praise you can ever give the commissioning editor.

 

For reviews of other anthologies edited by Ellen Datlow, see:
Alien Sex
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume One
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Two
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Three
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four
Lovecraft Unbound
Supernatural Noir

A copy of this book was sent to me for review.

 

For the record, the Stoker Awards have been announced. The anthology was shortlisted for Superior Achievement in an Anthology, while “All You Can Do is Breathe” by Kaaron Warren was shortlisted for a Stoker for Superior Achievement in Short Fiction. Blood is also nominated as Best Edited Anthology in the 2011 Shirley Jackson Awards.

Supernatural Noir edited by Ellen Datlow

book

Supernatural Noir edited by Ellen Datlow (Dark Horse Books, 2011) is an anthology that conflates two different subgenres as its theme. We’re all familiar with the notion of the supernatural, so the more important element to understand is the reference to the word noir. For me this is indelibly associated with the pulp style which reached the maximum quality in the work of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler. I suppose the primary characteristic of classic pulp is that the PI or detective is always a tough guy but smart. That way, he can take being hit with a sap, get up, dust himself down and, in due course, nab the villain. The implicit reference to darkness (noir is French for black) comes from the works which get past melodrama into worlds without pity where we see through the eyes of the victims and the criminals. In such stories, there’s always less hope for the safety of those involved. An introduction that brings us to the first story as an example of the problem inherent in the anthology’s theme. “The Dingus” by Gregory Frost reminds us of a truth. When you torture and kill a young woman, you’d better be sure she hasn’t got a sister with the power to take revenge. As seen through the eyes of an old boxing trainer, now driving a taxi, this is a case of people being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The idea is compelling, but I think the language and tone apes the period style just a little too well. I would probably have loved this fifty years ago. Today, it feels a little tired.

“The Getaway” by Paul G. Tremblay is the story of a simple heist that goes inexplicably wrong. It should be so easy to knock over a pawnshop but, as the three robbers and their driver discover, nothing is easy. This is hardboiled with a modern voice and increasingly powerful as the driver tries to outrun their fate. “Mortal Bait” by Richard Bowes sees humans caught up in a supernatural conflict. This nicely captures the sense and feel of the immediate post-WWII America with a veteran trying to make a living as a PI. In this, he has an edge given his link with the fey except, of course, having any kind of attachment leaves you potentially vulnerable should the enemy be looking for leverage. “Little Shit” by Melanie Tem is a disturbing story about the entrapment of paedophiles. It succeeds because, when you consider the facts, it’s obvious why Lourdes would be in a relationship with the titular Little Shit, yet not so obvious why someone with mind-manipulating capacity would not realise that reason. “Ditch Witch” by Lucius Shepard is a marvelous atmosphere piece in which imagination (and a liberal quantity of street drugs) combines to convert a hitch-hiker into someone who, when provoked, might just be able to do magic. It charts the sense of menace as the driver begins to see the world in a slightly different way.

Ellen Datlow — one of the best editors working today

“The Last Triangle” by Jeffrey Ford flirts with pulpy language but has enough modern sensibilities in tone and plot to make this an outstanding effort. With a runt of a protagonist as the point of view, we see an addict more or less getting clean with the help of an old but determined lady. Unfortunately, as he gets more healthy, this pitches him into an attempt to avert a possible murder, tracking the man who might kill. What makes it so successful is the fact there’s no actual evidence of anything supernatural. It could just be a man with delusions derived from reading all the wrong history books. Jeffry Ford masterfully exploits the uncertainty to keep it a more traditionally noir story. In exactly the same vein, “The Carrion Gods in their Heaven” by Laird Barron details a battered wife on the run with the emotional support of her lover. They take up residence in a cabin in the woods. There are tales about an earlier occupant, but it’s only slowly the couple realise how believable old tales can be. Again the story is firmly rooted in reality although there are ways in which the mind can play tricks and no-one could be entirely certain where the battered wife ended up. “The Romance” by Elizabeth Bear is an elegant story about relationships: the ones you can see in the now, and those that may by some uncanny means, transcend time. I think it a very good supernatural tale but am less convinced it’s genuinely noir. “Dead Sister” by Joe R. Lansdale has the author’s trademark style which always tends to be noirish in spirit as a PI bites off more than he can chew when a vampish lady pays him to watch over her sister’s grave. This soon develops into a meeting of interested parties at an old sawmill where the rollicking adventure is terminated in an appropriate way. “Comfortable in Her Skin” by Lee Thomas changes the mood quite dramatically darker. Some people are shaped by things done to them. Other shape their own lives, while a very small percentage are able to shape others in their own image. This rare ability proves a powerful partnership is possible when interests match. “But For Scars” by Tom Piccirilli continues in darker vein as a criminal finds himself persuaded to look into a six-year-old murder case by the unexpected return of the victims’ daughter from a mental hospital. Again we have a fundamental truth about human nature. Once you get past the scars and under the skin, most young criminals are the same.

“The Blisters on My Heart” by Nate Southard asks and answers the age-old question of what a jealous man will do if his girl is humiliated in a way that challenges his prowess. “The Absent Eye” by Brian Evenson is a particularly fascinating story. I’m not sure it’s noir except that it does have a man who becomes a kind of detective, but it does offer an interestingly secular, rather than the more traditionally religious, view of the soul. “The Maltese Unicorn” by Caitlin R. Kiernan is terrific fun as our bookseller gets caught up in a con and then has to find a way out of it without dying in the process. I suppose it’s raunchy noir as our more open view of sexuality bends the pulp rules in a way that would never have been possible fifty and more years ago. “Dreamer of the Day” by Nick Mamatas is genuinely and delightfully creepy with a contract killer who can recite even the minutest details of the way in which the whole death scenario will play out. This is an outstanding effort. Finally, “In Paris, in the Mouth of Kronus” by John Langan shows us how two who made the headlines as torturers for the US Army in Iraq try to make a living in civilian life. Again, I think this works well as a supernatural story but I’m less convinced of its noir qualities. As the title suggests, we are into ancient gods and the scale of the problem confronting our duo lifts it out of the pulp subgenre for me. Somehow, I always feel true noir lies in more intimate details.

So there you have it. Ellen Datlow has put together another outstanding anthology. While I might differ slightly in my interpretation of the editorial brief requiring a noir tone, I take nothing away from the actual stories included here. They are all of a high standard with one or two outstanding. By any standards, this is an anthology to savour.

As an aside, I can’t say I like the jacket artwork by Greg Ruth very much. Although the idea of a raven is OK — it is, after all a noir bird with Poeish supernatural connotations — but the perspective has been bent to make the eyes fit vis-a-vis the bird. This leaves the head in the wrong position which just goes to show how subjective all this editing, publishing and reviewing business is.

For reviews of other books edited by Ellen Datlow, see:
Alien Sex
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume One
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Two
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Three
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four
Blood and other cravings
Lovecraft Unbound

For the record, the 2011 Stoker Awards have been announced. The anthology was shortlisted for Superior Achievement in an Anthology. It has also been nominated as Best Edited Anthology in the 2011 Shirley Jackson Awards. “Ditch Witch” by Lucius Shepard and “The Last Triangle” by Jeffrey Ford are nominated as Best Novelette in the 2011 Shirley Jackson Awards.

The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois

book

The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-eighth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois is a big anthology of thirty-three stories and novellas. With a lot to mention, I’ll forego the usual introduction.

“A History of Terraforming” by Robert Reed is a melancholic story that reflects on the inherent intellectual and emotional weaknesses that bedevil the human race and seem, forever, to doom it to self-destructiveness. And, yet, suppose a gentle and wise man could live long enough to impose some self-discipline on us childlike humans. Would he not only transform planets, but also the people who live on them? It’s a pleasing, albeit elegiac meditation on the dangers of hubris and the value of humility. “The Spontaneous Knotting of an Agitated String” by Lavie Tidhar is also somewhat sad. Although we are the sum of our memories, there’s no guarantee that the removal of unhappy memories will make us any happier. Indeed, the irony is the very notion we might have forgotten something important could make us even more unhappy.

At last, I’m able to praise a story by Allen M. Steele. He’s so often come close with the ingenuity of his plotting, but I’ve always felt his work lacked an emotional heart. “The Emperor of Mars” proves a real delight. It’s a reassuring tale of a colony faced with a worker having a serious psychotic break. Instead of reacting with intolerance, there’s a surprisingly supportive response, allowing the man to live in the world as he chooses to believe it is. “The Things” by Peter Watts is the other side of the John W Campbell, “Who Goes There?” as told by the alien “thing”. I was interested in the idea, but thought it went on too long. “The Sultan of the Clouds” by Geoffrey A. Landis is a most ingenious story about money and power in a future version of our solar system. The physical descriptions of life on Venus are fascinating and the plot itself neatly dovetailed together. On a note of frustration, I can understand why the story ended where it did, but I remain curious as to what happened next.

Gardner Dozois looking avuncular

“The Books” by Kage Baker is a post-apocalypse story of a group of travelling entertainers who also act as a repository of some human knowledge and skills. It’s an adult story with children as the protagonists which makes it slightly unusual, avoiding the sentimentality that so often blights such stories and keeping the adults of ordinary intelligence. “Re-crossing the Styx” by Ian R. Macleod is another ingenious idea about life before and after death. It might be surprising to find out how hard people might fight to maintain their existence, particularly if the right technology was available. “And Ministers of Grace” by Tad Williams (1) poses the eternal question of what we might believe if we’re left to our own devices. For too long, we’ve been surrounded by people telling us what’s right and wrong. Perhaps, if those people went away, we might discover more natural or universal laws in operation. It would be interesting to find out. “Mammoths of the Great Plains” by Eleanor Arnason is slightly tedious, chronicling the demise and resurrection of the North American Mammoth in this alternate history. “Sleeping Dogs” by Joe Haldeman is a pleasingly hard-bitten story that ruminates on the uses and abuses of power. When a ruling group controls all aspects of life, problems can disappear or people may simply forget inconvenient truths. “Jackie’s Boy” by Steven Popkes could have been a routine post-apocalypse story, but it’s saved by the relationship between the boy and the elephant. Both have serious trust issues. Nevertheless, as is always the way in stories of this kind, they reach a mutual accommodation in the face of adversity. “Chicken Little” by Cory Doctorow is compulsively intelligent in its discussion of what makes us human and how, if at all, we could change the mix to produce a better version. In this, let’s put aside the ethics of experimenting on people without their knowledge and consent. After all, farmers have been feeding us antibiotics for years. All we need for a mass clinical trial is the right person to sell the need to take the new magic pill. Then we can all find out the hard way whether the world becomes a better place. “Flower, Mercy, Needle, Chain” by Woon Ha Lee is a particularly pleasing idea, elegant framed and shortly executed. Like any tasty morsel, it’s consumed in a moment, but lingers on the intellectual palate for a long time. “Return to Titan” by Stephen Baxter is an amusing gonzo science story of an exploration of Titan that literally pulls the plug on the characters’ life support system when they discover sentient life from a different universe. “Under the Moons of Venus” by Damien Broderick is Ballardian in spirit covering rather more contemporary conceptions of knowledge and science. It’s interesting but, for me, underwhelming. “SevenYears From Home” by Naomi Novik (1) sees the tried-and-tested approach of prodding a hornets nest come unstuck because, in this instance, the prodders mistook the nature of the nest. Hornets are dangerous enough but, when they can develop new abilities, everyone may be at risk. “The Peacock Cloak” by Chris Beckett takes an internalised debate on how to develop a world, and allows different facets of a creative personality to play out the options in a pocket universe. It’s an intriguing idea and, like all good ideas, it’s time-limited.

“Amaryllis” by Carrie Vaughn flirts with sentimentality and just about emerges unscathed in a heart-warming tale of fisherfolk, their quotas and a desire for children. “Seven Cities of Gold” by David Moles is a rather melancholic story about the intellectual and emotional journey all thinking people should take when confronted by the reality of war. When you realise the blood of the dead is on the hand of leaders on all sides of the conflict, the best you can do, assuming you survive, is to get as far away from the madness as possible. “Again and Again and Again” by Rachel Swirsky is short and hilarious. It should be required reading for all those contemplating parenthood. “Elegy for a Young Elk” by Hannu Rajaniemi is a completely entrancing fantasy masquerading as science fiction. The ideas are fascinating and thrown into the melting pot so casually, you almost miss their cleverness before they are gone. “Libertarian Russia” by Michael Swanwick asks what we really mean by freedom. Perhaps it’s an absence of rules or maybe it’s an absence of people to enforce rules, or could it be a rejection of contemporary values and systems like money? “The Night Train” by Lavie Tidhar is an OTT story about how far human evolution might go as a crime boss and bodyguard take a short trip by train from one exotic city to another. This has a willful exuberance about it, as if there are no envelopes left to be pushed.

“My Father’s Singularity” by Brenda Cooper is ostensibly science fiction but really about the gulf that separates parents and their children. Every father has dreams for his children’s future but, when they grow up and move away, reality collides with the dreams and something has to give way. “The Starship Mechanic” by Jay Lake and Ken Scholes paraphrases the Biblical suggestion, “physician heal thyself” to refer to an alien mechanic who, as a book buff, doesn’t quite polish floors with hairless cats, but comes close. “Sleepover” by Alastair Reynolds is a classic example of the “big idea” story. What if our world is nothing but a simulation requiring massive processing power to keep it working. The more complex the world and the greater the number of people, the slower the “machine” would run. In such a case, we might all have to stop thinking for a while. There’s no-one better than Reynolds at this kind of story. “The Taste of the Night” by Pat Cadigan (2) walks the think line between sanity and insanity, tumour and a new ability to see the world (or perhaps, even, a new world).

“Blind Cat Dance” by Alexander Jablokov sees the idea of editing an animal’s consciousness applied to human relationships. We don’t need to see those we dislike. Equally, in our own relationship with food, we can edit out the inconvenient animal parts and leave only the meat. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. “The Shipmaker” by Aliette de Bodard shows us how we might produce starships in a distant future even though nothing might quicken without the help of a surrogate mother. In-fall” by Ted Kosmatka shows how even the threat of not dying and so denying martyrdom may not be sufficient to prise the names of co-conspirators from a fanatic’s lips. “Chimbwi” by Jim Hawkins confirms that, culturally, there’s a border to cross when you arrive in a country as a refugee with nothing. Even so, journeys don’t always end where you expect. Finally, we come back to Robert Reed, Ouroboros style, in “Dead Man’s Run” which is a nice mystery with a clever idea, but it unnecessarily prolongs the literal chase to the whodunnit solution.

In a book of more than 700 pages, it would be a miracle in convergence of taste if a reader found every word coming through an editor to be of the highest quality. The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-eighth Annual Collection edited by Gardner Dozois is no exception. Critical sensibilities are highly personal. That said, there are only a few stories I found weaker than hoped for. In a book of this length, no-one can ask for anything more and, with some spectacular successes to find, I unhesitatingly recommend this. It has won the 2012 Locus Award for Best Anthology.

(1) First appeared in Warriors edited by George R R Martin and Gardner Dozois.

(2) First appeared in Is Anybody Out There? edited by Nick Gevers and Marty Halpern.

For other anthologies edited by Gardner Dozois, see

The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Seventh Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection
and as a tag team with George R R Martin:
Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance
Songs of Love and Death
Warriors