Since I’m still listening at an accelerated rate (id est, more of my day), it can’t be too surprising that I finishd Archangel’s Legion, the sixth of Nalini Singh’s Guild Hunter novels. They’re still being read by Justine Eyre, and I think her performance ability is a huge part of what makes the series attractive to me. She’s not a full cast like GraphicAudio (these are produced by Tantor), but does a great variety of voices and only occasionally are there conversations between two who sound very alike. In the future, I might try books on the basis of Eyre’s reading.
After a couple volumes looking into the love lives of Raphael’s seven, we’re back to the archangel and Elena for leads. Because the Cascade that has seen all archangels gaining new powers (and possibly other angels as well) has been around long enough that some are ready to move. The time has come for the start of war. What else can be assumed when one attack ends up called “The Falling”, because first birds and then angels fell out of the Manhattan sky? There’s also a strange disease that affects vampires; immortal beings who are supposed to be immune to disease.
Plague hasn’t been seen as a part of Lijuan’s deadly abilities before. So the first thing to do is either confirm if she’s gained yet another ability, or if this belongs to someone working with her. Because it’s unclear if any other archangel would see Raphael as such a threat. He’s gained an ability that seems utterly antithetical to Lijuan’s, so he’s her primary target. He can block her in a way no one else can.
Oh, and everyone knows Lijuan’s been making more Reborn (zombies). So there’ll be those to worry about. It’s up to Raphael and Elena to ready their territory and people for the coming assault, and to firm up whatever alliances they can against the Chinese archangel.
Plus there’s a weird black spot on Raphael’s face that isn’t dirt. It doesn’t hurt him, but after seeing dead vampires covered in pustules, can you really blame Elena for her concern?
Archangel’s Legion feels like the series is moving into a second act. We’ve met all the major players at least briefly and now the world is changing in ways that will forever mark it. That’s not to say there won’t still be books devoted to new pairings – this is paranormal romance after all – but that will happen under more wartime conditions.
Although…that legion. I have Questions. Because the answers received about the legion somehow involve…the dawn of humanity and vampires? Let’s just say that Singh has clearly handwaved away anything prior to recorded (in legible writing) human history and added angels. I don’t doubt that this subject will be revisited again in later novels, but I’m having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around some of it. Mostly because she’s still trying to have this world based on our own and I’m not sure how well it works the more history she adds. I’m enjoying the books, but too much of our world would be different from where it stands if you diverged that much.
Whatever. I can ignore it when I’m listening and that’s the most important part.
Today’s physical book is Am I Blue? Coming Out from the Silence, an anthology edited by Marion Dane Bauer. And you can say this is a celebration of Pride month, because it’s an anthology of young adults coming to terms with queerness. Well, being gay or lesbian, or a bit bisexual. This book is thirty years old, and transgender visibility has always lagged behind the other main letters in “LGBT”.
The authors are not, to my knowledge, uniformly queer. I believe a number are present as allies and perhaps as names to add cachet to the book. It’s also noteworthy that the cover features the pink triangle that queer people were forced to wear by the Nazis, just as Jews wore yellow stars. There’s a pink triangle sculpture memorial outside of the Anne Frank house, you know. The triangle is also used on the title page for each story as a reminder.
Bruce Coville opens up with the title story, “Am I Blue?” Here, a young man has been bullied for being gay, although he’s not even certain of his own identity. Then an older man shows up claiming to be his fairy godfather. Because it’s sexist to have fairy godmothers and not allow him to be a fairy godfather. This story is well done in terms of pointing out how most people aren’t wholly gay or straight, with the largest number falling somewhere in between.
“We Might As Well All Be Strangers” comes from M.E. Kerr and I suppose an anthology about persecuted minorities is not a surprising place to find a Holocaust story. The grandmother wasn’t herself a Holocaust survivor, her family already living in America at the time, but she was in Germany in the thirties, she understood. Just as she understands her grandchild having the bravery to admit their attraction to their own gender.
Francesca Block’s story about “Winnie and Tommy” is a rambling affair that takes a while to get to its point. And the way it’s written, I was very concerned for Winnie for the first section, until it was revealed that the boy she was running off with is the same age, and not some strange older guy kidnapping her with sweet promises. I guess you could see the way the story is written as a metaphor for how someone in the closet can try and try to “be straight” until they finally have to admit the truth to themselves. For my taste, I got bored and a bit annoyed with how it meandered.
Next is “Slipping Away” by Jacqueline Woodson, about a young woman waiting for her best friend to arrive for the summer. But what she spends the story figuring out is that she and her friend might have more differences than she realized. Especially when they discuss how the protagonist’s family lives in a lesbian area, where people are nice even if they’re not the societal norm.
I think the older I get, the more Gregory Maguire annoys me. The concept of “The Honorary Shepherds” is a good one, but instead of writing the actual story of two young men learning about themselves and using that new knowledge to rewrite a myth in their image, he does something more obnoxious. He writes a pitch, a set of scenes and stage directions, with way too much commentary to the reader. There’s a good reason why I’ve only kept some of his short stories, in anthologies I want for other reasons. The only actual book of his still in my home is holding up a shelf because who would use something they actually want to read for that?
“Running” is a hobby of Ellen Howard’s protagonist. And she has more time for it ever since her best friend got a boyfriend and keeps ditching her for the boy. Then her older sister comes back from backpacking Europe with a friend…a lesbian. And the main character is disturbed enough by this, and by what it might mean for her personally, that she runs even more.
James Giblin’s story “Three Mondays in July” takes us back to 1951, where a young man has realized that he’s attracted to other men. One Monday he goes to the beach because he can…and he sees another man swimming, wearing only a very small bikini, what we’d now call a speedo.
“Parents’ Night” brings us back to school in Nancy Garden’s story. The main character is a lesbian and also in her school’s GSBA, Gay-Straight-Bisexual Alliance. (In my school they didn’t have the B, probably because were already using so many more letters that it might be easiest to keep it short and sweet.) Anyway, the story’s about the character coming to terms with being out and being out, because each club is supposed to have a booth for Parents’ Night and anyone sitting at GSBA will be assumed to be homosexual whether they are or not, whether they’re out or not. So what will she tell her parents?
C.S. Adler tells about “Michael’s Little Sister”. She’s basically the center of his life. So while he might want to go play music with the cute boy who might also be gay, he’ll stay home and babysit. He’s a better cook than their mom anyway. But you know, sometimes the love and acceptance of a sibling is all you need in life.
“Supper” by Lesléa Newman is a brief glimpse into family dynamics. And also where the main character’s mind might wander over the meal. The family loves each other, but that doesn’t mean they understand each other.
Lois Lowry is here with “Holding”. In this case, it doesn’t matter if the main character is queer or not. When his dad asks him to fly to New York just to be there, the protagonist goes. His dad’s boyfriend (please remember this is thirty years old) Chris is dying and what loving son wouldn’t want to be there for him? But only the main character and his mother, of the people they live around, know that Chris is a guy. Everyone else assumes Chris is female, and they’re allowed to keep their illusions.
“Blood Sister”, Jane Yolen reveals in her post-story biography, is a prequel to Sister Light, Sister Dark, and the rest of the Great Alta books. That much I knew right away. It had been so long that I assumed I was reading part of the opening of the first novel. I don’t think the full format of presenting the myths, songs, fragments, essays, and the actual story works as well in short fiction. Especially because there’s not as much of the modern day analysis and attempts to understand as in the novel. Also…I’m not impressed with Selna as a character.
Jonathan London’s story “Hands” is another that gave me some odd vibes. The protagonist is a young man who spends some time with an older gay man. A man who spent time in jail because he tends to be physically affectionate with people he barely knows, and parents of his students took offense. And yeah, I feel like he took some liberties with the protagonist too, ones that make me uncomfortable.
“50% Chance of Lightning” is a Christina Salat tale. The lesbian protagonist wishes she had a girlfriend, while her very on-top-of-things straight friend already has a boyfriend and knows her exact order of preferred colleges. Our main character isn’t even sure she wants to go to college. Really, she’s not sure what she wants in general. But maybe with a little push she can start to figure it out.
William Sleator’s story “In the Tunnels” is legit historical fiction, although it’s not made clear until the very end. It’s about the Vietnamese fighting against the American invaders. And about a young man who has a secret relationship with the leader of the best cell in their underground hideout.
Finally the book ends on “Dancing Backwards” by editor Marion Bauer. The narrator recounts how she once performed in a ballet class at age four…and how she ended up facing the wall the entire time, not the audience. And how that attitude turned out to be the one she needed to embrace in her life. It’s okay to be “wrong”, to do the opposite of what everyone expects and wants. It might be what’s best for you.
I’m glad this book exists. I think it’s probably helped a lot of queer people, and can continue to. But, it’s also thirty years old and there’s a few stories involving older (think thirties) gay men and those who are still boys that make me distinctly uncomfortable. These are very real world stories, most set in the modern day of 1994, and only one with any magic.
Which I did know when I picked it up. That this isn’t a fantasy or science fiction anthology. And while it went more quickly as a read than I’d feared, that doesn’t actually make me want to keep the book. Better to pass it on and hope it finds its way into the hands of another young queer.
mouse Reads Books 