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The Recollection by Gareth Powell
Throughout Chinese and Asian culture, you repeatedly encounter the idea of the need for balance. In Taoism, for example, the duality we term yin and yang envisages the world built on a series of complementary opposites. Within each system, a balance is achieved because the weight or power of each opposite is equal, i.e. it will never be possible for one to overcome the other. To that extent, they are simultaneously in binary opposition but also mutually dependent and, through that positive relationship, new generations are born. So, the metacycle might be life and death, with the subcycle of children being born from men and women. Within the group we think of as humanity, there’s a series of subsets representing good and evil, war and peace, love and hate, memory and forgetfulness, and so on. There are as many binaries as your imagination can create. Indeed, there comes a point when you have to admit the futility of cataloguing them since, as pairs, they are necessarily eradicable and ineradicable, and likely to remain so until Eschaton when everything ends and there’s a new beginning.
The Recollection by Gareth Powell (Solaris, 2011) plays with the idea of circularity and balance. Think of the universe as the view from your window. If a force inimical to life emerges, there will be a counterbalancing defensive force to preserve life. So, as a dispassionate observer, you could study the way in which the two forces ebb and flow. Some species may be lost, but others will be saved. To some extent, this will be random for who can predict where the rolling battle will next be played out across the immensity of space. But, as in everything else across the galaxies, there will always be new life emerging as old life passes away.
The subgenre we call space opera is acted out against a vast canvas, but these landscapes must always be peopled. The Recollection starts off on contemporary Earth with two brothers and a “guilty” wife in transition between them. In a different time and a superior technological society, we have another relationship in trouble. A woman is alone. Perhaps she betrayed her man or may be it was just a misunderstanding. The initial catalyst for the main action to start is the sudden appearance of gateways on Earth. The gulled brother is the first to fall through. Rather in the same way that Philip José Farmer played with gates in the World of Tiers, so these new devices are fixed-point teleportation devices between different planets. Some months later, the guilty brother and abandoned wife set off through another gate in search of the lost brother. In this narrative thread, it plays out a little like Sliders as our couple find themselves in different hostile environments. It’s a little routine and not very original. The motivation of the people they meet is also difficult to understand. It is, however, more scientifically credible than the television series because the reason why they never go back is an application of temporal relativity. If you violate the speed of light in moving from one planet to another, several hundred years may pass on the planet of departure even if you were to turn back through the gate immediately. They can never go back to the time they came from. They can only go forward, as if towards the centre of a maze.
In the other narrative thread, the destructive force (if such it really be given that it thinks of itself as The Recollection) heads towards that part of space now occupied by the humans. As always in these situations, the problem is how humanity should respond. The answer is all rather elegant with all the necessary components on display from the outset. It’s simply a case of the reader appreciating the significance of events.
Taken overall, The Recollection is a rather pleasing book striking a nice balance between the lives of individuals and the necessary mechanics of a space opera staging, i.e. you have to be prepared to accept some degree of coincidence and absurdity as the action unwinds. Although I think some of the flashback episodes are slightly too long in explaining exactly what went wrong in the relationships, Gareth Powell does succeed in making us care about these people. They feel real despite the enormity of the roles they are destined to play. The only slight fudge is as to how much of a villain Victor is but I was prepared to look the other way so that he can be redeemed and balance restored. This is worth reading if you enjoy space opera with a slightly gritty and occasionally noirish tone. There’s just enough on the plus side to make me interested to see what Gareth Powell comes up with next.
The Fugitive: Plan B or Domangja Plan B — the last act
Well, now things have taken a more interesting turn as we head into what I pray will be the finishing straight. Detective Do Soo (Jeong-jin Lee) ends up with the gold. Don’t you just love it when the honest cop gets the chance to go wrong. Well, he exports himself and the gold to the Philippines. In close pursuit go girlfriend Detective Yoon So-ran (Yun Jin-seo), Ji Woo (Rain) and Jin Yi (Na-yeong Lee), with Nakamura (Sung Dong Il) linking up with the idiot local PI called James Bong (Jo Hee Bong). Everything then grinds to a halt as Do Soo gets bored, but is rescued from that boredom by the arrival of his girlfriend. He sleeps with the girl which is the first intelligent thing he has done so far in this show. Needless to say, Ji Woo doesn’t get to have sex with Jin Yi because she falls asleep. Thank God everyone will be awake in the morning when a devious plot from Nakamura is supposed to steal all the gold from Do Soo’s safe.
Well, thanks to Nakamura having recruited Ji Woo’s assistant, Ji Woo knows all about the plan to steal the gold at the party. Kai (Daniel Henney) is there and gets the cold shoulder from Jin Yi. Sophie (Kim Soo Hyun) watches him mooning after her and is disgusted. She therefore helps Ji Woo steal the gold when Nakamura isn’t looking. So now Ji Woo and Jin Yi momentarily have the gold in their joint care but, after an argument about what should happen to it, Jin Yi takes off with it on her own. Meanwhile, Kai is pressuring the son of General Wei (Ti Lung), who is running for President. If the son does not warn his father away from Jin Yi, there will be a lot of whistleblowing. When Kai returns to the hotel where he lives while in Seoul, Sophie walks out on him. As she stalks through the lobby, she sees the professional hitman getting into the lift. Improbably, she runs up twenty-three stories and intercepts the hitman as he is about to enter Kai’s room. Not too out of breath, she tries to reason with the assassin and then vaguely attacks him. For her trouble, he stabs her but the arrival of hotel security drives him away. Now Kai leaves his room, picks her up and runs from the hotel with Sophie in his arms. Later he’s standing on guard over her in hospital. There’s affection but still nothing that’s going to divert him from his path which is to confront the General to save Jin Yi. In due course, he’s on his way to a meeting. He’s fairly confident it’s a trap but if this is one of the ways in which he can frustrate the General and keep Jin Yi alive, that’s what he’s going to do. This is Daniel Henney looking all serious, dark and handsome.
Meanwhile Nakamura takes Ji Woo captive in his own office. When Ji Woo wakes from the gas used to overcome him, they discuss where Jin Yi might have taken the gold. Nakamura does all the work of tracking her down and then, with the help of a paperclip, Ji Woo is free from the handcuffs, turns the tables and rushes off to save Jin Yi. As we know, the hitman has a sniper rifle and is lining up the shot to take down anyone coming into his sites. He’s expecting three victims.
Do Soo has returned from the Philippines and gives himself up to the police. After he finishes blackmailing the Chief into withdrawing the arrest warrant, he’s teaming himself up with ex-Detective Yoon So-ran to crack the case and so win their jobs back.
Ji Woo intercepts the hitman before he can shoot the two ex-love birds and they hand him over to Do Soo who, somewhat improbably, transports him around the city in a filing cabinet. Moving along, we have two developments. Nakamura offers his services to the General who is perfectly honest that he want Ji Woo dead. At the Ji Woo’s office, James Bong appears supported by heavies, except they prove no match for Ji Woo who escapes them and lures them to a nearby mall where they appear just in time to rescue him when the meeting between Jin Yi and the General goes pear-shaped. The General, you see, tells the angry daughter that her grandfather was a criminal, stealing the gold and then trying to blackmail the General. So every cent she has had in her life has come from the stolen gold — a bit demoralising. In all the excitement, Ji Woo is shot and bleeds convincingly — about the only piece of his acting so far with any credibility.
We now start to come towards the end — a merciful release as I think this serial may have done serious damage to my brain. Sophia goes to kill the General but fails (no surprise — she’s been incompetent from the start). Kai goes to reason and then threaten the General’s son and is then taken off by “prosecutors” (yeah, right). Do Soo and partner are still on the case and have recovered a recording of the General’s confession (if only they can get it to play). Ji Woo and Jin Yi visit with the General’s son and may be convinced he’s going to do the right think and tell everyone the truth. Naturally, when they go to his office, they get set upon by a gang of men with big sticks. This is not fatal and, in due course, they leave the hospital quietly. And finally, Nakamura and James Bong continue bumbling along in pursuit of the gold. This is just so bad, it’s unbelievable, particularly now the director has begun to play completely inappropriate, vaguely operatic music in the background. Honestly, it defies belief that anyone who made this or agreed to participate in it could possible think it any good.
Now we have one of those revelations where I can honestly say, “I didn’t see that coming.” Not that I care anymore but the mad professor, Hwang Mi Jin (Yoon Son Ha) isn’t dead. She’s been wounded, now apparently confined to a wheelchair, but is still in the game. In this exciting instalment, the self-righteous son decides he can get himself voted in as the next President if only he hides his father away for the duration, can recover all the evidence including the gold, and kill anyone else who gets in his way. So when Jin Yi calls him and offers to return the gold in return for a public, he’s all to willing to co-operate. That way, he can get the gold and kill the girl. By this time, Do Soo and fiance have recovered the recording of the general confessing to the crimes and have handed it over the one of the responsible police departments in Korea. Now Ji Woo and Do Soo are lurking nearby hoping to protect Jin Yi when she meets the Presidential wannabe. He takes the sample gold bar and sends in the gang of thugs to kill everyone. Cue another of the interminable fights we’ve come to love. But, this time, we have an unexpected outcome. The fight spreads and the fiance is killed. During all the confusion, Nakamura makes off with the gold which has been in Jin Yi’s car, hidden inside the spare tyre.
Now we come into the final few minutes and all this pain will soon be over. Kai tells international journalists all about the conspiracy. Do Soo rejoins the police force and goes all righteous to catch all the high-ranking police officers and politicians who have been involved. And there’s a final press conference in which Jin Yi and Ji Woo confront the son on the eve of his election triumph and produce the final bar of gold that’s been hidden away for such a rainy day. So Jin Yo and Ji Woo drive off into the sunset. Do Soo implacably starts arresting people, and Kai walks away from Sophie. Oh, and to avoid arrest, the General shoots himself. The only person who really comes out ahead is Nakamura who’s left to spend some of the money on an expensive holiday before Ji Woo sets off to track him down.
Without fear of contradiction, this is one of the worst television dramas I can recall watching. It has every possible feature to hate. Rain’s acting as Ji Woo produced something so malevolently unpleasant, you wonder he still has any fans left. This is a creepy pervert who spies on women and tries to paw them when given half a chance. He may be clever in an odd kind of way, but this is the ultimate anti-hero. Daniel Henney did his best with his saturnine good looks to sleepwalk through, hoping no-one would notice how bad it all was. It remains a genuine curiosity to see him alternately speak English and then be dubbed for some pithy remarks before lapsing back into English again. After all this time as a star in Korea, you would think he would have learned a little of the language. Jeong-jin Lee as Detective Do Soo was ludicrously monomaniacal for most of the series but did show some sincerity when Yun Jin-seo was killed. I think I ended up quite liking Sung Dong Il as Nakamura. He did managed to send himself up as venal from the outset. This leaves us with Na-yeong Lee as Jin Yi. She’s repeatedly threatened, captured and beaten up throughout the series but manages to emerge with some dignity despite the whole thing being a rerun of The Perils of Pauline with her replacing Pearl White. No-one else matters.
For all the reviews see:
The Fugitive: Plan B or Domangja Plan B — early thoughts
The Fugitive: Plan B or Domangja Plan B — second thoughts
The Fugitive: Plan B or Domangja Plan B — the third act
A Glass of Shadow by Liz Williams
A Glass of Shadow by Liz Williams (NewCon Press, 2011) is her second collection with short stories covering the period from 1998 to date with two originals.
“Mr De Quincy and the Daughters of Madness” introduces a succubus in a cleverly selected historical context, explaining why Thomas of that ilk probably first took to the opium for which he is now notorious. It’s a gently meditative discourse on loneliness and guilt for those left behind. We then come to two Singapore 3 stories (see the Inspector Chen novels) which demonstrate you don’t have to be entirely serious when writing a horror story. In “Mr Animation and the Wu Zhiang Zombies” the thin barrier between Earth and Hell gives a vocalist in death metal style group the chance to see life on the other side, while “Necrochip” reruns the succubus theme in a world now dominated by capitalism. Matching, if not beating it, for wit is “Indicating the Awakening of Persons Buried Alive”. If they were still around, both Edgar Alan Poe and Keats might, for rather different reasons, benefit from reading this delightful story.
“The Flower of Tekheli” is a nicely atmospheric piece which says something about how to mollify a woman scorned while “On Windhover Down” a woman might find a rather different role, but only if she consents, of course. “Woewater” is one of these pleasing, “Why didn’t I think of that?” stories in which the unsuspecting reader gets to the end and discovers a neat twist. “Blackthorn and Nettles” uses fantasy to explore the burdens of jealousy, hate and guilt that can distort relationships even before they have a chance to form, while “The Water Cure” wonders whether the physics of electricity when it comes into contact with water would prejudice a relationship between spirits of water and air. “All Fish and Dracula” is a slightly unkind way of describing the small seaside town of Whitby but, in this Goth meets more than she dreamed possible scenario, it has an appropriate relevance to events.
“Tycho and the Stargazer” has us back in historical pastures with a suggestion of how Kepler found the inspiration to keep working on his calculations of Mars orbit. Maintaining a scientific theme, “Voivodoi” deals with the social difficulties families might have if one of their children displays variant genetic drift. “Ikiryoh” is a candidate for my favourite story in this collection. Once again we look at the possible uses of genetic engineering, this time using cloning for a very specific purpose. In a way, it’s an application of a rather mechanical view of psychology through which individual personality factors can be separated out from the whole, drawing inspiration from the Japanese myth of the ikiryō as a way of casting an evil eye.
“Troytown” is a pleasing meditation on the significance of death. Too often people try to go through life without ever thinking about the inevitability of dying. This elegant story suggests you can never live life to the full unless you confront the fact of your own mortality. “Who Pays” is also interested in what might happen after death. It’s a clever mixture of science fiction and fantasy as the beliefs underpinning Ancient Egypt’s civilisation are translated into a functional technology. It’s interesting to see what you can still believe when there’s no-one around to challenge those beliefs.
We then have two stories from the Winterstrike universe. “The Age of Ice” has us with an undercover operative sent into a city on a war-footing to sift through the wreckage of a library for the technology of a weapon. As with the novel so this story blends science fiction, fantasy and horror in a pleasing way as our heroine’s exploration of the library finds rather more than she expected. “La Malcontenta” has us in Winterstrike itself for the festival of Ombre. Much like the Carnevale di Venezia, the inhabitants go masked about the city, remembering the past and honouring its conventions.
“Dusking” is another very elegant fantasy story where a young girl is forced into the strict care of her aunt when her mother disappears and her father dies. She’s naturally drawn to the fey and, courtesy of an eligible young man, she plans to escape from the her confinement, perhaps even managing to catch a real fairy for all the good that will bring her.
And, finally, the titular story, “A Glass of Shadow”, is an original and my other candidate for favourite story. By coincidence, this has us in a contemporary Carnevale di Venezia with a man looking to escape the misery of losing an unfaithful wife to another. In this situation, gender is hardly relevant. Everyone loses people they love. The question, of course, is what you do about that loss. Do you, for example, seize the chance for revenge if it’s presented to you?
A Glass of Shadow is quite an elegant book. I lashed out and bought the signed limited edition. The jacket artwork by Anne Sudworth is rather fine and I would have been completely delighted were it not for some very curious lapses in the typesetting. I should have become enured to widows and orphans by now — they are reaching epidemic proportions in modern editions — but, in “Voivodoi” the line indentations intermittently disappear. I can forgive one but not both. Nevertheless, this is a fine collection and well worth reading.
The other reviews of books by Liz Williams are: The Iron Khan, Precious Dragon, Shadow Pavilion, Winterstrike and Worldsoul.
For the record, A Glass of Shadow has been shortlisted in the Best Collection category by the British Fantasy Society 2012.










