Review of Terra! Tara! Terror! edited by Juliana Rew

Leave a comment

This is Third Flatiron Anthology #24, released 30 September 2018 in both e-book and paperback formats. This anthology falls into the underserved class identified by Natalie Luhrs, that is, anthologies edited by women. Rew is an accomplished editor, but independent.

This is an excellent collection of stories, as usual without being cluttered up by way of political statements one way or the other. This release definitely leans to the literary and to fantasy rather than SF. The description says the anthology is about mystery and shadows and the content of the stories varies, as you would expect given such a general theme. The authors are notably international, and the stories are better than the average creative.

“Learning to Fly” by Marie Vibbet is about a little girl who makes her school poster into a magic carpet with the help of a high wind. “If a Tree Falls” by Dan Micklethwaite is about a Dryad that grows old and eventually loses her footing in a storm. “Memory and Muchness” by Rhonda Eikamp details the life of a child surrounded by Alice in Wonderland characters and how she finds her way to the real world. In “War Dog” Wulf Moon presents a story about the Conquistadors that’s is okay on the surface, but alludes to an ugly past. “The Lady of the Park” by Blake Jessop is about a London lamplighter who falls and is caught by a Spriggan. Other authors include Salinda Tyson, Jen Downes, Evelyn Deshane, John Paul Davies, Steven Mathes, Diane Morrison, E.M. Sheehan, Michele Baron, Liam Hogan, Stefon Mears, K. G. Anderson, Kelly A. Harmon, Matthew Reardon, Samuel Chapman, Emmett Schlenz, Gustavo Bondoni, Melanie Rees, Kiki Gonglewski, Caroline Sciriha, Wulf Moon, Elizabeth Twist, and Josh Taylor. In addition, there’s a special reprint from Robert Silverberg and a bit of humorous flash fiction at the end of the book.

Recommended. Four stars.

Advertisements

Review of Venom (2018 movie)

7 Comments

This movie is from the Sony Marvel universe. (If you’re wondering what that is, Sony owns the rights to about 900 Marvel characters.) It was written by Jeff Pinkner and Scott Rosenberg, directed by Ruben Fleischer and stars Tom Hardy, Michelle Williams and Riz Ahmed. It was released by Columbia Pictures on 5 October 2018. (Yeah, I know. I’m running really behind again.) This review contains spoilers.

Eddie Brock is a reporter who has a show with a major network. He gets an interview with the head of Life Foundation Carlton Drake. Brock’s fiancé Ann Weyling is an attorney working to defend the Life Foundation against charges of improper human trials. Told to conduct a low key interview, Brock asks about the trials case instead. He loses his job, and worse, Ann loses hers. She is furious, gives him his ring back and starts dating a surgeon. Meanwhile, Drake is conducting space flights where he has collected aliens who need a symbiote in order to survive on Earth. Drake is signing homeless people up for trials where he infects them with the symbiote, but they just die because of immune rejection. Dr. Dora Skirth, one of Drake’s employees, calls Brock and brings him to the facility to show him what’s going on. Brock becomes infected with an alien that calls itself Venom. Venom confides that it is part of an invasion force, but it likes Earth the way it is, so will oppose the planned invasion. Drake also becomes successfully infected and readies a spacecraft to bring the rest of the invasion force to Earth, but Brock/Venom destroys the rocket with Drake aboard. Is Ann infected, too? Will she star in a sequel?

This is a watchable movie, but not highly engaging or exciting. Everybody does their part, the screenwriters, the stars, the CGI techs, etc. There are great themes, alien invasion, evil scientists experimenting on the homeless, a moral opposition—but it just didn’t quite get there. I think the problem is that nobody in the movie is more than ordinarily attractive, and the alien Venom is downright ugly. Plus the film is too short to include much of a struggle between Brock and the powerful Venom for control of their relationship. This should have been the central issue. Venom just seems to decide out of the blue that it likes it here and doesn’t want any more of his race trashing up the environment. In the comic, Venom is historically cast as a bad guy, and this screenplay just didn’t make up for its unlovable qualities.

Stan Lee did put in an appearance. Don’t leave before the credits. There’s a post-credits scene where Brock goes to a maximum security prison to interview serial killer Cletus Kasady (Woody Harrelson), who may be Carnage in a planned sequel. There’s also a post-credit scene from the upcoming Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.

Three stars.

Where did fantasy lit come from?

4 Comments

Fantasy has deep roots and seems to be a standard in human culture. Very old fantasy tales have come down to us, including works like the Epic of Gilgamesh, Beowulf, The Book of One Thousand and One Nights and the Norse Edda. Then the printing press was invented in the 1500s and people started getting the idea of publishing their stories.

In 1666 Margaret Cavendish wrote the satirical novel The Blazing World, now credited as an early work of speculative fiction with elements of both science fiction and fantasy, as a companion piece to her more serious work, Observations upon Experimental Philosophy. As we get closer to the modern day, Grimm’s Fairy Tales were collected in the 1700s, and in the latter 1800s, William Morris set the standard for high fantasy works with The Wood Beyond the World and The Well at World’s End. This inspired early 20th Century writers like Lord Dunsany, who wrote The King of Elfland’s Daughter, and Edgar Rice Burroughs (Tarzan of the Apes, John Carter of Mars) and Robert E. Howard (Conan the Barbarian), who pretty much established the sword and sorcery genre.

In the 1930s and 1940s, J.R.R. Tolkien continued the high fantasy tradition with his series on Middle Earth. Also writing in the 1930s, Gertrude Barrows Bennett (a.k.a. Francis Stevens) invented dark fantasy with the novels Claimed and The Citadel of Fear. Although some might think he falls into the horror genre, I’d place Lovecraft into this same dark fantasy period. I also think Michael Moorcock and Roger Zelazny deserve mention as mid-20th Century icons. Moorcock’s series of eternal champion novels and Zelazny’s Amber series published in the 1960s and 1970s established the multiverse of alternate worlds as a standard.

By the 1980s, contemporary and low fantasy were finding their footing as a serious sub-genre. Terri Windling is credited with popularizing urban fantasy with Borderlands, followed closely by Charles de Lint. C.S. Lewis is an icon of Christian fantasy, and of course I have to mention J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter.

This is just a quickie review, of course. Are there any huge icons I missed?

Is it fantasy or science fiction?

46 Comments

Interestingly, there are theorists who think there’s not that much difference between fantasy and science fiction. For example, in 1976 Todorov and Berrong classified science fiction as a subset of the fantasy genre. In 1979 Suvin argued that it had become common to call anything science fiction that included themes of “novelty, estrangement and cognitive dissonance,” and that science fiction should be the overarching term. The only real difference between the genres, according to Suvin, is that science fiction has to conform to a logical framework. So, presumably this argument was the reason for developing the term “speculative fiction” to describe a particular type of literature that can actually be hard to sort out.

Then, Menadue (2017) conducted a study that found readers actually have fairly strict definitions of fantasy and science fiction, and that the two bodies of literature are seen as contrasting instead of one being a subset of the other. Presumably this has to do with the logic requirement for science fiction, which means it has to follow more rules for causation and world building than fantasy does. In other words, we have to justify the events in science fiction according to real world physics, for example, while in fantasy we can just call it magic and go on with the story.

So, it turns out that the main way readers sort stories into one genre or the other is whether they include “magic” or “science/technology.” There are a few other differences, too. For example, science fiction is generally seen as more future oriented than fantasy, and may address social change more directly. Science fiction is about the possible futures, after all, and not especially the venue for tradition.

Comments? Does this suit your definition?

Horror infesting the awards ballots?

9 Comments

As I was doing reviews for the awards cycle this year, I got some comments about the popularity of works recently that lean to horror. I’ve just never really understood horror as a genre, though I’m better at managing to be less disturbed by it now than I used to be. Part of the problem is that I have tendencies toward depression and anxiety myself, and I really don’t like wallowing in it—there are better ways to deal. Reading about boiling babies in hot water, for example, just doesn’t help me to cope. No offense to people who like that kind of thing, of course.

Various people have made statements recently about the political content of SFF literature reflecting the interests and viewpoints of readers. So, I guess we can say the same thing about horror, right? It’s infiltrating science fiction and fantasy awards ballots because that’s what the majority of fans want to read? All right. So why?

One possible theory is that this reflects the mental health state of the readers. Supposedly the mental health status of teens and young adults in the 21st century (not to mention that of older adults) has seriously declined. About 50% of teens between the ages of 13-18 now have at least one diagnosed mental health disorder, and about 17% suffer from depression. I’m suspecting this is about average for most generations because of changing hormones and the tendency of the current mental health system to want to diagnose and medicate you if at all possible, but still that’s what the articles say. So maybe people with mental health disorders find horror strikes a resonant chord?

It turns out there is some research on the subject. A 2005 study by Hoffner and Levine found that people respond to horrific stories according to levels of three variables: empathy, sensation seeking and aggression. In other words, individuals with low levels of empathy and high levels of sensation seeking and aggression really like those stories about baby torture. There are also gender and age splits, as teens and men are more likely to enjoy horrific works than older fans and women.

Another researcher, Zillman (1980, 1996), developed a paradigm about excitation transfer. According to his theory, readers or viewers experience “fearful apprehension about deplorable events that threaten liked protagonists” and then feel relief when the threats are resolved. However, he doesn’t say what happens when everybody dies. Worse mental health?

Hm.

Wrap-up of the World Fantasy Finalists

Leave a comment

That concludes the reviews of the 2018 World Fantasy Finalists. See the full list of finalists here. The awards will be presented the first week of November at the World Fantasy Convention in Baltimore.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, there’s quite a bit of overlap between this and the Hugo and Nebula ballots, so I didn’t have to review that many works to finish up the list. There are actually two prior award winners here: “Welcome to Your Authentic Indian ExperienceTM,” by Rebecca Roanhorse (Apex 8/17) won both the Hugo and Nebula awards for Best Short Story, and “Clearly Lettered in a Mostly Steady Hand,” by Fran Wilde (Uncanny 9-10/17) won the Eugie Foster Award.

There’s pretty fair diversity in this list, not only among the authors, but also in the style and direction of the works–though not as much as in the Nebula ballot. I think. The short story category has a fairly serious diversity issue in that there were no men nominated at all. Best Novella leaned to men, and Best Novel was evenly split gender-wise. As is usual with recent SFF community awards, the nominees leaned strongly to women and Asians, with Hispanic/LatinX (typically at 0%) coming in way short of their US demographic. African Americans were maybe about right for their US demographic. Roanhorse complicates this issue, as she’s bi-racial, but I’ve included her only once in the Native American category below. The breakdown includes 43% POC and 57% white, which pretty much matches the demographics in the US. Here’s the breakdown:

Best Short Story  Best Novella

Best Novel  Overall

As usual, the ballot is completely dominated by American writers, but it does include minority, Greek and UK viewpoints. Of course, this group tends very strongly to the literary, and there’s not much of an adventure cast. There was a variety of publishers, but the big print magazines were shut out again.

Overall the subject matter looks somewhat more cheerful than my most recent reviews suggest. There is definitely a depressive and in some cases nihilist trend to the nominations, but a few works stand out with strong characters fighting for what they want and maybe, just sort of winning ground against the darkness. These brighter works include: The City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty, The Strange Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter by Theodora Goss, Spoonbenders by Daryl Gregory and In Calabria by Peter S. Beagle. Chakraborty’s novel is dead serious, but the others are characterized by mild humor and social commentary that investigates the human condition fairly entertainingly.

Nothing here really caught my imagination, but the cliffhanger at the end of The City of Brass is going to worry me some. I’ll probably pick up The Kingdom of Copper when it comes out in January.

Best of luck to all the nominees!

Review of City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty

4 Comments

This novel is a finalist for the 2018 World Fantasy Award. It’s released by Harper Voyager and billed as The Daevabad Trilogy #1. It runs 569 pages. The next novel in the series, The Kingdom of Copper, should be available 22 January 2019. This review contains spoilers.

Nahri is a con woman in 18th century Cairo who poses as a healer and palm reader to cover her real work as a thief. She sets up a zar to sooth a crazed girl, and while singing some old songs, accidently summons Dara, a magical djinn warrior. The girl turns out to be possessed by an ifrit, which attacks Nahri. Dara carries Nahri away from Cairo and takes her to Daevabad, the hidden City of Brass. He introduces her to the djinn King Ghassan as the last of the powerful Nahid family, and the court seems to welcome her. It turns out there are nasty undercurrents in the politics, simmering resentments between the six djinn tribes and the half-breed shafit. Nahri struggles to learn the healing arts they try to teach her, and Ghassan thinks she’s at most a half-breed human, but still plans a political union by marrying Nahri to his oldest son Muntadhir. He sends his youngest, the scholarly subversive Prince Ali, as a tutor to win her over to the plan. When Dara hears of it, he tries to carry Nahri away again, but Ali interferes and they are caught trying to cross the magical lake that guards Daevabad. Dara is killed, Ali possessed and banished, and Muntadhir’s companion Jamshid badly wounded. Ghassan is determined the marriage will go on as planned. Can Nahri turn any of this to her advantage?

So, counter to the depressive trend in the WFA finalists this year, this is a romance and an intrigue. All these people are lying to each other, and political groups are plotting right and left. Daevabad is exotic, the details of the city life, the temples and the palace very well assembled. I didn’t have any problems visualizing the people, the creatures or the scenery–the author has done a lot of research. She’s also done a great job in blending tradition with modern sensibilities. The characters are slightly flat, but the story is more focused on the action and intrigue than on revealing their deepest inner thoughts. The reader is left to deduce a lot of what’s going on from their actions.

In case you can’t tell from the synopsis, this is a cliffhanger, as everybody is at risk at the end, and the political tides are still rising. Nahri mostly lets people push her around in this book, but her political faction didn’t abandon her over the marriage, so she’s now well placed to be a power player in the next novel. Without Dara and Ali, she’ll have to find other protectors.

On the negative side, the magical world here was a little too complex for me to keep up with the way I read the book, which was a piece here and a piece there. Politics in the city was fairly clear by the time I was done, but a lot of other creatures seem to be circling Daevabad, just waiting for some chance to get in. I didn’t get a clear idea of the motives or alignments there. One other note: this seems to be an unfortunate choice of title, as it’s apparently shared with a successful video game. That means a search for the book turns up mostly the game info instead. However, I guess Chakraborty’s fans can tell the difference.

Four and a half stars.

Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: