(3.5) Favourite stories: ‘TRUTH SERUM’ by Jacob Steven Mohr, a cursed-TV-show story (so, automatic fave) spanning many different mediums; ‘The Troubli(3.5) Favourite stories: ‘TRUTH SERUM’ by Jacob Steven Mohr, a cursed-TV-show story (so, automatic fave) spanning many different mediums; ‘The Troubling History of Boddington’s Inlet’ by Rajiv Moté, a weird travelogue that riffs on Lovecraft; ‘~if the sky can crack~’ by Meep Matushima, in which we read backwards through LiveJournal entries from a troubled girl who’s begun to believe she can travel to an alternate world. Cool formats: a document that includes tracked changes (‘Heritage Assessment Daemonium’ by Chris Moss); an illustrated cheese journal (‘A Partial Record of Enchanted Cheeses I’ve Fed My Wife’ by Devin Miller); a series of increasingly odd product reviews (‘KentGent’ by Ren Wednesday). Once again, lots of great ideas and a really enjoyable anthology. See also issue 2 and issue 1!...more
(See also my review of Issue #2.) Again, some great ideas in here, with my personal standout being Daniel Simonson’s ‘The House of Fitted Stones’, in (See also my review of Issue #2.) Again, some great ideas in here, with my personal standout being Daniel Simonson’s ‘The House of Fitted Stones’, in which ex-residents of a mysterious house reunite on an online messageboard, discussing their strange yet unforgettable experiences. With research as the theme, several contributions run along the same lines: they gradually reveal a portrait of a dystopian near-future society through the author’s chosen format. This could describe a few of the best stories – ‘The Securities & Exchange Commission v. The Undying Sea’ by Simo Srinivas (found documents), ‘The Comments Section’ by Andy Tytler (which plays out in the comments on an online advice column), and ‘Welcome’ by Alexis Ames and Kat Veldt (chats and emails within a marketing company, with a similar vibe to Several People Are Typing). I also liked the increasingly creepy letters in Barrie Darke’s ‘Goblin Universe’. A few other stories have good concepts but are lacking in execution. I assume things had been refined a bit by #2 because I found that to be a stronger, tighter collection, but this was still extremely fun....more
I picked this up a) on the strength of a glowing review at Strange Horizons and b) because I thought it was mixed media. Strictly speaking, it’s mostlI picked this up a) on the strength of a glowing review at Strange Horizons and b) because I thought it was mixed media. Strictly speaking, it’s mostly epistolary, switching between diary entries and emails as it tracks a father’s determined search for his 12-year-old daughter. The missing girl, Liza, was obsessed with ‘the Hidden World’, the setting of her favourite fantasy series, and it’s these books (and their enigmatic author) that prove key to untangling what happened to her. I can never resist something that has plot points like ‘person follows clue to to place and ends up in a weird museum’, and Dreambound combines that with whimsical fantasy – something I wouldn’t usually enjoy, but here it gives the narrative an edge, makes the book feel like something fresh. Pure fun with a big heart....more
The premise of The Other Valley is high-concept, yet so simple it seems amazing no-one’s written this book before now. There’s a community in a valleyThe premise of The Other Valley is high-concept, yet so simple it seems amazing no-one’s written this book before now. There’s a community in a valley. Some distance either side lie duplicate valleys – exactly the same, except one is twenty years in the past, the other twenty years into the future. Movement between valleys is both physically taxing and strictly controlled: requests must be approved or denied by a special council, the Conseil (and they are almost always denied).
Our protagonist and narrator, Odile Ozanne, is a 16-year-old schoolgirl who hopes to join the Conseil. At the same time as she enters the competitive ‘vetting’ process to win an apprenticeship, she accidentally witnesses a visit from residents of the future valley. She recognises them as the parents of her classmate Edme, and realises what this must mean: in the near future, Edme will die. Odile is drawn to him; they become friends; she begins to fall in love. In the second half of the story, we meet Odile as an adult and see how the events of her youth have affected her life.
This is a beautifully written book. One of the most impressive things about it is the clear distinction between its two parts. In the first half of the book, the valley is wistful, nostalgic and magical. The elegant prose, the evocative settings, the sense of potential surrounding both Odile’s future career and her putative relationship with Edme – all combine to create an impression of a place that feels at once familiar and entirely otherworldly. In the second half, however, that pretty facade is ripped away. We’re clearly in the same place, just seeing behind the curtain, being shown the details of the dirty work that makes this idyll possible for the lucky few. It’s such an effective way to illustrate different facets of a fictional world.
I was worried, early on, that this would be one of those books in which the course of someone’s entire life is dominated by a brief, youthful infatuation – a common plot point and one I dislike. But Howard is clearly aware this is a cliche. There’s a good balance between the obvious fact that the story’s world is unlike ours (time travel is possible here; regrets can be fixed, at a cost) and Odile’s own acknowledgement that she barely knew Edme. It’s a refreshingly unsentimental take on the trope, one that still allows for pathos and emotional heft.
The Other Valley is my favourite kind of speculative fiction, mastering the formula of compelling genre hook + stunning writing. So interesting, accomplished and such a smart idea, it’s not the type of book that immediately strikes you as a debut. I’d go out and get all the author’s other books if I could.
I received an advance review copy of The Other Valley from the publisher through Edelweiss....more
Aliya Whiteley’s latest novel is unique, a ‘hero’s journey’ more colourful than life, a sense that there is a lacquer over the top of what we read aboAliya Whiteley’s latest novel is unique, a ‘hero’s journey’ more colourful than life, a sense that there is a lacquer over the top of what we read about Fairly – a young ‘quester’ setting off from her home village to explore a strange land. A feeling that we’re reading a description of a videogame rather than seeing the coding underneath, or the inspiration for the story. Which makes it perfect that there is in fact an additional layer of interpretation: hundreds of years later, an archivist living in a very different world (where the individual no longer truly exists, as human consciousness is shared) finds Fairly’s story and annotates it, trying to decode its meaning.
Fairly’s story, titled The Dance of the Horned Road, is weird and sometimes inscrutable, with repeating motifs such as mysterious creatures called cha, a ‘chain device’ Fairly must press at pivotal points in her journey (and which always causes the narrative perspective to shift), and the sinister ‘breathing man’ who stalks her all the way. It can feel useless to try and impose a moral on any of it. My take is that it’s best understood by way of the tension between Fairly’s solitary quest and the archivist’s existence as a person in whom ‘all the information ever amassed’ is contained. It reminded me of books like Confessions of the Fox, The Book of Luce and The Unauthorised Biography of Ezra Maas – none of which are SFF, but all centre on a similar idea about a narrator trying to excavate the truth from a document/cache of evidence, layers of reading on top of reading.
I received an advance review copy of Three Eight One from the publisher through NetGalley....more
The Arrival of Missives is set in a rural village in the early 20th century, but it feels like it could be much earlier than that; this is a traditionThe Arrival of Missives is set in a rural village in the early 20th century, but it feels like it could be much earlier than that; this is a traditional place, where old customs not only persist but define the community (the celebration of May Day, and the crowning of a new ‘May Queen’, form the story’s climax). Shirley Fearn, a naive 16-year-old, is infatuated with her young teacher, Mr Tiller. But she gets more than she bargained for when she spies on him and discovers something inexplicable. This leads Tiller to confide his secret: he believes he is receiving ‘missives’ from the future, and wants Shirley’s help to ensure a terrifying threat is neutralised. Is he telling the truth, or a fantasist? Shirley herself is delusional and not entirely reliable – but is Tiller dangerous?
Whiteley weaves together a coming-of-age story with science fiction, an examination of rural British life in the age of encroaching modernity, and even a bit of romance, and it’s all balanced very well. Shirley’s voice is believable as that of a pretentious yet ultimately likeable teenager. There’s a richness to the portrait of the unnamed village that adds depth to an offbeat plot and helps smooth the edges off its more outlandish aspects. My favourite of the author’s since Greensmith, and another win from the now sadly defunct Unsung Stories....more
Unpopular opinion time. I really wanted to love this, but I was often bored. As much as I appreciated the writing (lucid, precise), basically the entiUnpopular opinion time. I really wanted to love this, but I was often bored. As much as I appreciated the writing (lucid, precise), basically the entirety of Leigh’s story – more than 80% of the book – feels like exposition. We are close to her, yet she is still a blank slate. I think In Ascension would appeal to anyone who loved The Moonday Letters, and vice versa, as I came to the same conclusion about both: each book is impressive in its worldbuilding and vision as a work of speculative fiction, but frustratingly sterile and lacking in anything recognisable as real emotion....more
Australia, circa 2080: life is increasingly lived inside the virtual world Gaia, but our protagonist, Tao-Yi, is a little more reluctant than most of Australia, circa 2080: life is increasingly lived inside the virtual world Gaia, but our protagonist, Tao-Yi, is a little more reluctant than most of her peers. When the concept of ‘Uploading’ – transferring a person’s consciousness to Gaia in its entirety – is launched, things get more complicated, especially as Tao-Yi’s boyfriend Navin is immediately enchanted by the idea. Every Version of You reminded me of books like Chosen Spirits and Moxyland, which colourfully depict future worlds, but with a much more focused plot and strong emotional core. It pulls off something rare for this type of story: the tech is thoughtfully written and Tao-Yi feels like a real person whose relationships (with her friends and her mother as well as Navin) actually mean something. I loved the closing chapters’ account of the post-Gaia real world, full of desolation, glimmering with hope....more
(Review written January 2019. Nina Allan’s novelette Neptune’s Trident was previously listed on Goodreads as a separate book; looks like that listing (Review written January 2019. Nina Allan’s novelette Neptune’s Trident was previously listed on Goodreads as a separate book; looks like that listing has now been combined into the magazine issue it was published in. This is a review of Neptune’s Trident only.)
Originally published in issue 129 of Clarkesworld magazine, Neptune's Trident is a science fiction novelette. It's set in a future version of Scotland in which a series of disasters and slow changes have precipitated the breakdown of society as we know it. There's also the phenomenon of the 'flukes', people afflicted by a new sort of infection. Some believe it to be a form of alien invasion, but its exact nature is difficult to define. Caitlin compares it to cancer. At one point, a character makes it sound like one version of a file being overwritten by another: 'their template placed over ours... a kind of bleed-through'.
This story has a similar feel to 'The Common Tongue, the Present Tense, the Known', and like Noemi in that story, the protagonist Caitlin makes a living by scavenging valuable objects from the polluted coast. She also cares for her partner, Steph, who is one of the infected, and who often (increasingly often) glitches into what Caitlin calls 'not-Steph'. (The transition is described in vivid, chilling terms: 'she turned slowly away from the kitchen counter, moving in jerky increments, like a robot... [her] words slightly blurred, as if two identical recordings of her voice were being played over each other, a millisecond apart'.) One day, while selling her finds at the local market, Caitlin meets a parson – a man still wearing a dog collar despite the disintegration of old religions. At first, she takes pity on him, but it soon becomes clear he has extreme views about the flukes, and that his arrival will change the quiet community.
The more explicitly science-fictional of Allan's stories are not usually my favourites, but I do appreciate their attention to detail. Allan's worldbuilding always focuses more on the things that would actually matter to real people, in their day-to-day lives, than stuff like technology and governance. It's the smallest things that make Neptune's Trident real: Caitlin's memories of watching horror films with her brother; the Johnson's shampoo she finds at the beach; the parson's resemblance to a man Caitlin's mother once had a relationship with. The ambiguous ending reflects the void at the heart of this new society, the stillness and silence of the ancient Earth in the face of human disaster....more
In Victorian London, Jane Silverlake is a young woman with a singular talent: she can discern the ‘voices’ of inanimate objects, and can also pass thiIn Victorian London, Jane Silverlake is a young woman with a singular talent: she can discern the ‘voices’ of inanimate objects, and can also pass this ability on to others by touching them. The plot revolves around the disappearance of Jane’s friend Nathan, his involvement in a cult known as the Temple of the Lamb, and Jane’s attempts to find him (with the dubious ‘help’ of their mutual frenemy Madeline). This book is the most similar thing I’ve read to The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters and its sequels; while not exactly steampunk, McOmber’s version of London, filled with obscure folk heroes and festivals, always feels vaguely skewed. I had some problems with The White Forest: the pacing is off, with the story repeatedly gaining momentum and then suddenly grinding to a halt; the plot is definitely overstuffed. Reading it feels a bit like inhaling a cloud of floral perfume. Overall, though, it’s simply so imaginative and ambitious and weird that it won me over. ‘Too much’ in a good way....more
Appliance has a killer concept: through a series of interconnected short stories, it charts the introduction and development of an invention that chanAppliance has a killer concept: through a series of interconnected short stories, it charts the introduction and development of an invention that changes society. In the first story, the ‘appliance’ is a fridge-sized unit that can move a small object a short distance; by the end of the book, it’s a widely-used teleportation system, so prevalent that humans have all but abandoned other modes of transport. I enjoyed how the stories moved through time without pinning down where or when we are, so the context is the reader’s only key to how much the invention has advanced. Yet, despite the innovative approach, it’s all a bit dry and curiously old-fashioned. I couldn’t warm to any of the characters or summon up much interest in their circumstances (and one story that graphically depicts rape is jarring among the generally sterile scenes)....more
Refreshing how little this seems to have aged compared to (some) other SF from the same era. It lost me a bit during the massive infodump sections, buRefreshing how little this seems to have aged compared to (some) other SF from the same era. It lost me a bit during the massive infodump sections, but the story proper is both original and gripping, especially the opening scenes....more
Lambda is the most beautifully crafted, interesting sci-fi I’ve read in a while – this thing is absolutely bursting with ideas. The central idea is thLambda is the most beautifully crafted, interesting sci-fi I’ve read in a while – this thing is absolutely bursting with ideas. The central idea is that ‘lambdas’, aquatic aliens who are genetically human, have become part of human society, albeit controversially. But the plot also encompasses AI assassins, sentient objects and future policing. Our (main) guide to this world is officer Cara Gray, who works first in surveillance, then – when her role is superseded by a quantum processor – as a ‘lambda liaison officer’. (And there are additional layers here too, as we’re aware her narrative has been generated by a program, leading to some very particular turns of phrase and details that reverberate throughout her story.) I could have carried on reading about all this forever: it’s so well-written and comes together so satisfyingly, and every perspective is cleverly developed. With that said, don’t read this book if you’re looking for questions to be answered and loose threads neatly tied up. There’s not much in the way of resolution: this is more a portrait of one idea of a future-world. It’s sometimes funny, sometimes chilling and always feels true.
(3.5) I read Terminal Boredom, the first translated collection of Izumi Suzuki’s work, in 2021, and it became an instant favourite – quite simply one (3.5) I read Terminal Boredom, the first translated collection of Izumi Suzuki’s work, in 2021, and it became an instant favourite – quite simply one of the best short story collections I have ever read. I was excited to read more of her fiction in Hit Parade of Tears. Unfortunately, this book doesn’t quite live up to its predecessor. While the characters have similarly distinct personalities and voices, the pieces collected here are often more successful at capturing a mood than telling a story.
There are recurring details that sometimes make Hit Parade of Tears seem like a particularly idiosyncratic novel-in-stories. The overall vibe is one of 1960s and 70s counterculture, epitomised by political statements and, particularly, music. (This also makes Hit Parade feel more obviously rooted in the time it was written, and much less prescient, than Terminal Boredom.) Another theme concerns characters who live among ordinary people, but believe themselves to be alien in some way – though it’s often unclear whether these beliefs are delusions. In this book we meet people who see visions of the dead, or other worlds; who can remember little of their recent past; who suspect they were born on another planet or have been alive for centuries.
The best story in the book is ‘The Covenant’, in which two misanthropic girls decide to to make a ‘sacrifice’ together; it’s alive with well-developed characters, an original plot and a vivid sense of cynicism. I really liked ‘Softly, As In a Morning Sunrise’ too: a proper sci-fi story about a crew scouring a planet for strange animals, it has the most solid plot and is also really funny. ‘Hey, It’s a Love Psychedelic!’ combines strong cultural context with an intriguing time-travel twist, although it ends abruptly (a repeating problem). I loved the atmosphere in ‘Memory of Water’ – its sense of despair, details like the 3D art experience; it felt closest to what I was expecting from the stories in this collection.
I initially thought ‘My Guy’ was an odd choice to open the book. Although it begins promisingly, and the narrator’s voice is immediately distinct, the narrative is choppy and difficult to follow. But perhaps it’s an appropriate first story after all – emblematic of the problems the weaker stories share. ‘I’ll Never Forget’, for example, is a sequel to the story ‘Forgotten’ from Terminal Boredom, but is far less successful; disjointed in a way that makes its events confusing.
A trio of stories – ‘Full of Malice’, ‘After Everything’ and ‘The Walker’ – seem to be connected, sharing a common thread about a woman searching for her younger brother. They also operate according to a kind of dream-logic where absurd incidents pass without comment, reminding me of Leonora Carrington’s surrealist fiction. ‘The Walker’ is relatively strong as a strange, brief standalone story. ‘Full of Malice’, apparently one of the author’s earliest works, is very short yet still lacks clarity, and could have been left out (if not, I suppose, for its connection to the others).
I enjoyed this new selection... but some of the stories in Hit Parade of Tears made me wonder whether those in Terminal Boredom represented the absolute apex of the author’s work, with the remainder inevitably being less impressive. There is no doubt that Terminal Boredom is the superior collection. If you haven’t read Izumi Suzuki before, start there.
I received an advance review copy of Hit Parade of Tears from the publisher through NetGalley....more
(3.5) Thoughtful sci-fi about a scientist and an android investigating octopus communities (and the legend of a sea monster) around a privatised archi(3.5) Thoughtful sci-fi about a scientist and an android investigating octopus communities (and the legend of a sea monster) around a privatised archipelago. Lots of discussion of consciousness, communication, intelligence, how they ought to be defined and what they mean. How do we decide whether a robot is conscious? How might humans communicate with an intelligent non-human race? Can technology ever solve the problem of loneliness? I have to admit that nothing here, for me, quite matched up to the thrilling opening chapter, and two subplots – one about a hacker, one about an enslaved worker on an automated fishing vessel – never quite seem to reach their full potential. Still, I really enjoyed the main story, which unfolds slowly, with plenty of room for reflection. I also loved the extracts from two pop-science books ostensibly written by characters within the book.
Thin Air meets Event Horizon is my quick pitch for Nicholas Binge’s second novel, a mind-bending, reality-splitting adventure in which a reluctant sciThin Air meets Event Horizon is my quick pitch for Nicholas Binge’s second novel, a mind-bending, reality-splitting adventure in which a reluctant scientist joins a crew climbing an impossible mountain. I was surprised by how different this is from the author’s debut, the excellent Professor Everywhere; it’s significantly more high-octane and much more ambitious in scope, with forays into horror territory that lean towards the bloody.
Physicist Harold Tunmore is missing for almost 30 years before his brother discovers him living, anonymously, in a psychiatric hospital. His story is told via a cache of letters written by Harold to his niece. These chart a mission he claims to have been a part of: in 1991, he was (so he says) one of a group put together to scale and research an immense mountain that materialised out of nowhere in the middle of the ocean. It’s a place where people are not themselves and time appears altered – and the further the team go, the weirder things get. Ascension is packed with dramatic scenes and eerie dialogue that give it a particularly cinematic feel. I especially loved how Binge developed the character of Jet (who gets all the best lines). Yet it also has room for contemplative, even philosophical moments and a solid backstory for Harold. A wonderfully wild ride that’s a cut above your average sci-fi blockbuster.
I received an advance review copy of Ascension from the publisher through NetGalley....more
(3.5) Hmm, big mixed feelings about this one. I loved the world it created, and honestly felt the vagueness (of the setting, of the nature of the ‘gra(3.5) Hmm, big mixed feelings about this one. I loved the world it created, and honestly felt the vagueness (of the setting, of the nature of the ‘grand jeu’) only added to the magic. I loved the detail: this is an evocative, nostalgic text. But I guessed the twist almost immediately – it feels like Collins wants you to, though I’m not sure why, because the narrative then carries on doing that annoying thing where we’re extremely close to a character’s thoughts yet they have to think in circles around something that’s being obscured from the reader, which takes all the tension out of the story. The ‘I hate this person! but... do I actually like them? no, it cannot be’ of both romantic threads seemed endless, and particularly unlikely for intelligent adults, no matter how guarded. I also hated the ‘rat’ chapters and would gladly have cut that whole pointless plotline out of the book. I sound negative here, but I liked the way it felt overall: cosy and so perfect for this time of year, a warm blanket of a book. A hot chocolate with brandy. A big cushion with stars embroidered on it...more
(4.5) The first thing I want to say about this is that it has a much stronger supernatural element than I expected, and if I’d known that I would, pro(4.5) The first thing I want to say about this is that it has a much stronger supernatural element than I expected, and if I’d known that I would, probably, have found and read it much earlier (I don’t feel like the blurb makes it clear at all!) The second thing is that I absolutely loved it. Build Your House Around My Body – an inappropriately twee title, if you ask me – is a wide-ranging novel of love, hate, family legacy and folklore that reminded me of Ghostwritten and The Kingdoms. It’s loosely organised around the disappearance of a young Vietnamese woman, Winnie, from Saigon in 2011, but flicks back and forth between different times and places, alighting on a group of linked characters who include Winnie’s boyfriend and his brother, but also a ghost extermination crew in the 1980s, a pair of French settlers in the 1940s, etc. Kupersmith has that gift of being able to swiftly breathe life into each and every character, and in particular I adored her empathetic portrait of lonely, displaced Winnie and her misadventures at Achievement! International Language Academy. This is a story that’s equally strong on character and plot; suggestions of magic/horror and unexpected connections make it endlessly exciting and surprising. It’s pretty long, but I would have been more than happy to keep reading about this world. One of those books I will be recommending to people in real life as well as online – Violet Kupersmith has a new fan in me.
There are some types of short horror story I could read for the rest of my life without getting bored. There are other brands of horror I’d cross the There are some types of short horror story I could read for the rest of my life without getting bored. There are other brands of horror I’d cross the metaphorical street to avoid. Horror anthologies are often a mixture of the two, and can therefore be tricky to review. Then again, if the stories in an anthology are too similar to one another, that can also be an issue; an editorial hand is important. Isolation is an extremely varied collection, expertly curated so that all flavours of horror are represented. It’s fair to say that some of them just weren’t to my taste at all (hence no rating for the book as a whole), but there are as many different interpretations of the theme of ‘isolation’ here as any reader could hope for – I was impressed by the lack of cliche.
Personal highlights for me included: • ‘Friends for Life’ by Mark Morris: lockdown folk horror with characters I truly cared about – brilliant! Of all the stories, I’ll remember the atmosphere of this one most vividly. • ‘Alone is a Long Time’ by Michael Marshall Smith: a cursed object in the collection of an elderly recluse spells disaster for a light-fingered carer. A classic creepy tale, told in effective style. • ‘Letters to a Young Psychopath’ by Nina Allan: I read this twice – once before I’d even looked at the rest of the book, and once after I had read all the other stories. It’s the tale of a serial killer who sees his job in the police force as ‘a methadone for murder’, and I’m biased because of how much I adore Allan’s writing, but it really IS great. • ‘Jaunt’ by Ken Liu: an excellent sci-fi story about what happens when ‘telepresence robots’ revolutionise the tourism industry. There’s so much potential in the premise that I feel like this could easily be expanded to novel length.
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