You Read it Here

The Earth is Flat.

And if you read anything into that beyond today’s reading, congratulations, you are unfamiliar with a Tanith Lee series from the seventies and eighties. Today’s book is actually anthology, collecting several Tales from the Flat Earth as well as other of Lee’s short fiction. I picked this anthology up at Windy City Pulp & Paper this year because sometimes I’m just a sucker for short fiction by authors I already know. And while I’ve largely given up on Tanith Lee’s fairy tales, that doesn’t mean I’m done with her.

However, I should mention that many of these stories are told in a manner similar to fairy tales and folktales, although you won’t see variations on Snow White or Cinderella anywhere near here. There is a timeless quality to how Lee tells her stories, particularly these. So let’s go through them.

The first portion of the book is dedicated to Flat Earth stories. Tales that could only have occurred in Lee’s Flat Earth series, but aren’t related to the longer tales that make up her novels. Although Azhrarn, the Prince of Darkness, is a frequent shadow as is his wont. I think he might be Lee’s favorite character on the Flat Earth.

The book opens with “The Origin of Snow”, which is actually fascinating. Not the part where Azhrarn’s curiosity is aroused to the point that he sneaks into the gods’ territory to see what they’re up to, no. But the fact that there is a scroll, where each word is different, and the bits of it become the first snow, where every flake is individual. I love the blending of scientific fact (the uniqueness of snowflakes) and folkloric story.

Then Lee tells us about “The Man Who Stole the Moon”. Which does raise a number of interesting questions. If the Earth is flat, what does that make the Moon? And how would a thief steal a celestial body? This is one of the most folkloric tales in the book.

“The Snake” follows that. It starts innocently enough, with a man being randomly bitten by a snake and dying soon after. But what unfolds is much more. And there’s some very interesting commentaries on excess. It’s another folktale, but one that could apply to real world myths and tales.

After that is “The Pain of Glass”. First we see a Prince, whose father the King is clearly ill but still rules in name only. The Prince finds an exquisite piece of glass that he immediately covets. Then we backtrack to the origin of the glass. And, of course, the conclusion, which is melancholic and somewhat poignant.

“I Bring You Forever” is one of those admonitions to be careful what you ask for. This the main character learns at a young age, although perhaps not in the way most would expect, given her upbringing. Still, lessons can be learned if one is willing to listen.

Moving on to the “Tales from Elsewhere” section of the book, we get “Foolish, Clever, Wicked and Kind”. This story is set in the Middle East, a region that flavors many of the stories here including the Flat Earth, and shows the fates of a rich man’s three sons. It is very much a fairy tale, although a long and complex one.

Then there’s the “Blue Vase of Ghosts”. A merchant and sometimes thief brings the vase to a powerful mage who is said to have an interest only in the rarest of artifacts, preferably unique ones. We must first understand what the vase does, and then we see why the mage wants it before he acts to make use of it.

“After I Killed Her” is an excellent title. The narrator, like many of Lee’s main characters, is a nameless warrior of no small skill. He’s not some simple brute and is widely traveled and knowledgeable. But of course, what woman did he kill, that his life is split into before and after?

That is followed by “Cold Spell”, telling of a time when Winter took over the world. A witch did what she could for the people, but after years of winter, there was only so much she could do and so she had to quest. This is another good fairy tale style story.

“Beauty is the Beast” as a story questions what we know and what we believe we know. There’s a bit in Wicked (the musical) where the Wizard points out that a person can be viewed as a crusader or ruthless invader depending on a person’s point of view…and what history is written later.

Surprisingly, I’d read one of these stories before. “Into Gold” was originally published in Asimov’s, so it’s no surprise that it was included in Isaac Asimov’s Camelot. And with that being said, it’s obvious this is an Arthurian tale, although that’s a little more subtle if you didn’t know the fact going in.

“The Truce” is a surprisingly skilled story. There are some clues which, by their absence, much can be inferred. But because Lee’s prose is so elegant and focused, one almost misses the lack until it’s too late. I appreciate this surprise.

Then comes “The God Orkem”. You can call this another of Lee’s stereotypical wandering warrior protagonists. But where he goes and what happens in the end, that was satisfying, if a bit terrifying.

Finally the book ends on “The Kingdoms of the Air”. This is an Arthurian style tale, about the Knight Cedrevir and his quest. It is somewhat formulaic, very heavy on Christian imagery, fairly long, and a bit dry. Not my favorite story.

Overall, The Earth is Flat was a fairly good read. I’m just not certain I want to keep it. Lee’s work is good, but it can be hit and miss and some of these stories felt a lot longer than necessary for me. I think I’ll stick this with the first Flat Earth omnibus, which I also read and was uncertain whether or not I’d keep. Given that I bought this book primarily for the Flat Earth short stories, it seems fitting that they remain a part of the series that I will keep or reject as a whole in the end. There’s another omnibus I will have to read at some point. I simply haven’t been in the mood for novels written in that older mode.

An anthology is a bit different. The shorter stories, for all some are much older, are more manageable chunks. The whole book is less than three hundred pages. I simply don’t think I’m at a point where I can judge whether or not I want to keep it. So it’ll be set aside, where I have a small pile of things I’m not sure I want, but I don’t want to get rid of until I’m completely certain. It’s tiny compared to the sell pile at this moment.

And, having done my self-imposed duty of inserting an anthology, I’m free to consider novels once again.

In Here, Out There

The last time I was assembling an order on amazon, I had realized that I was a bit behind on Rachel Neumeier’s books. The woman is amazingly productive, and there were entire novels, unrelated to series I’d already read, that I hadn’t yet touched. And even if they hadn’t grabbed my attention right off, I figured I should still read them. Indie author and all, this is how she makes her living and the least I can do is give them a try.

Which brings us to today’s book, which I might have been able to finish yesterday if I’d really tried. But honestly, I wanted to sleep. So I finished Invictus: Captive today. Unlike Neumeier’s other work that I’ve read, this one is science fiction. It takes place almost entirely on a spaceship, except for the bit at the beginning where the main character is in an escape pod, waiting to be picked up by said spaceship. And, of course, the ship is the titular Invictus.

It’s worth noting right away that the book is marked as being Part One. I believe this is intended to be a duology. Neumeier says in her endnotes that the story kept getting longer and she opted to chop it in half. Given that the book is a bit under four hundred pages, that may not seem entirely necessary, especially as Tasmakat was around eight hundred pages. However, Tasmakat really doesn’t have a good point to break it in two. Invictus clearly does. And since the second volume will be out in less than three weeks, I can’t complain too much. Aside from the fact that I’ll obviously have to assemble another order, but that’s besides the point.

The plot seems simple enough at first. Our protagonist is from a society that tweaks its genes and maintains certain genetic lines for various purposes. He’s an S line, which makes him a soldier, complete with implanted weaponry. He’s also the one in the escape pod. And he’s being picked up by his people’s main rivals and probable enemies. There’s no war at the moment, but the fact is that the Elysians are the ones who originally bred the Ubezischche to be their slaves. And he, like all Ubez, refuses to be a slave.

Still, Syova is taken as a prisoner because he cannot be disarmed and because Invictus cannot take the risk that he’s not there on a mission. He says not, there is no mission, his ship and team were in the area as civilians and engaged in humanitarian efforts. But Invictus is testing some new technology and any Ubez is going to be a risk.

And Syova knows a lot about the Invictus. Mainly because of its Captain, Nalyn Ila. I think he might even have a crush on her. And because of her own past, Ila knows a fair bit about Ubezischsche, which makes her more inclined to keep Syova alive and comfortable. She might even be able to use him to further her own nebulous goals.

You might, by this point, have noticed what really slowed me down with Captive. There’s a lot of politics, a lot of doublethink and reconsidering what we know and what we believe, and a lot of Russian-inspired words. I’m one of those people who, upon seeing a word I don’t know, generally pauses to try and pronounce it in my head. I actually gave up on that at some point because there’s a lot of them. Thankfully, there’s a glossary at the end of the book that explains the titles and how they compare to English positions as well as how they rank against each other. But it’s a lot.

I would say that Captive is good, but challenging. There’s so many layers and so much complexity that it was not the easiest read I’ve had in a while. And once I realized that there’s so much I can’t take as written, that adds more difficulty as I, as the reader, have to decide who to trust and when.

And, of course, it ends on a cliffhanger. I can’t even say much more than that, because there would be many spoilers. Suffice to say, I have no idea what will happen next.

At the moment, I’m not entirely certain I agree with Neumeier’s decision to split the book. On the one hand, a smaller book is definitely going to be less expensive than a brick. But two of them are more expensive than a single brick.

It reminds me of the first time I read Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh. My copy is an oversized paperback that was new at the time, ten or fifteen years ago. And there was a note on the cover about how it was complete in one volume. When Cyteen was originally published, it was too big for the mass market paperback formats at the time. So it was split into three books for publication, not unlike The Lord of the Rings. But where Tolkien was more of a marketing decision, Cyteen was clearly more about formatting sizes.

I suspect that, if Neumeier gains a much wider following, Invictus would ideally be rereleased in a single volume. But in order for that to happen, her readership would have to vastly increase. Which is just another reason why anybody reading this blog should give her a try. She’s got a wide range of book types, and not a small number of volumes either. She’s taking over my local author section, to the point where I think I’ll have to move some books out of it to compensate. Because, frankly, there are other books that I refuse to move off that shelf.

I’ve seen it remarked upon recently that manufacturers pay money to ensure their food products are placed at eye level in grocery stores. Because that’s where people will look first. And I generally try to have books that I like a lot and revisit often in the same general vicinity. So when the local authors share shelf space with Michelle Sagara West and Patricia Wrede…well. You can guess who’s going to lose in that fight.

But I have a good number of local authors now, so it’s easy enough to take one with fewer books that I read less and move them to a less obvious shelf.

And then I’ll have to start thinking about what to read next.

Nonfictional Fiction

Today’s book is interesting. It’s not a novel…but not an anthology either. Although it is broken into sections. I don’t often buy books like this, but throw in a new novella and I can be suckered. That’s how I ended up with Tuyo World Companion by Rachel Neumeier. It is exactly what it sounds like; a nonfiction volume about her fictional world. The back tells us that it includes people, places, maps, illustrations, cultures, customs, magic, sorcery, recipes, letters, and even Neumeier’s inspirations for elements, along with an interview. And the novella, of course.

This is why it actually took me two days to read, as the last book was finished early enough that I could get a good start on the next. It is jam-packed with information of all kinds, to the point that I started thinking that it could double as a world bible. In the endnotes, Neumeier agreed with that assessment, saying that this is the most extensive reference she’s created for the world of Tuyo and she’ll likely use it as such.

It’s clear that the World Companion was being assembled alongside or after Tasmakat, as Neumeier includes as much information as she can about the Two Lands, but does her best to avoid spoilers for that book. There are several instances of “[redacted]” in descriptors to that effect. It’s entirely possible she has a personal copy of the book where those are not redacted.

Neumeier shows early on that she already has titles and plans for two more supplemental novels. She also confirms that Tano will be the protagonist of future main series novels, as well as Tathimi, Aras’ granddaughter. The latter is presumed because she’s clearly a good character, if young at series present. So there’s definitely more of this coming.

It’s also noted later, in the interview, that the final Black Dog novel (well, final based on how the series was originally explained to me) should be available this year or next year. Which is nice to know, given that Tuyo, a seven book series, didn’t even exist when the original Black Dog was written.

Probably the most interesting piece of information I learned from World Companion was that the actual world is flat. And the metaphysical aspect of the sky is very interesting. There are apparently stars over both the summer country and the Two Lands, but those may or may not be stars as seen by the Tarashana. The winter country, because of its nearness to the starlit lands, probably does see many of the same stars as the Tarashana.

Neumeier has also confirmed that there is an actual land beyond the wall of flames that is the southern border of the Two Lands. No more than that is known so far. She has hinted that we may learn more about that, as well as the starless sea, and of course the starlit land, in future books. There are clear indications that Raga and Tano will probably be involved with the starlit lands.

Other things I’ve learned include the fact that the author has a food processor and likes using it. Which makes trying the recipes offered slightly challenging for me, as I do not have the space for one. Of course, I’m less inclined to try most of the recipes anyway as I am no cook. I bake. But sugar dumplings look to be within my wheelhouse.

Tuyo World Companion is exactly what you’d expect from the title. It’s a comprehensive overview of the fictional world and its peoples at the present of the series. It tries to avoid spoilers for more recent novels like Keraunani, Tano, and Tasmakat while still including pertinent information from them. And it largely succeeds.

It is important to note that when Neumeier writes that we don’t know much about something, like the Sa’arii, she means that she doesn’t know either. She seems to be a very “seat-of-the-pants” writer, and learns the world as she writes. Sure, some elements follow naturally from what she’s already created, but there are instances when she says we don’t know that because we only have Ryo’s observations, and he pays attention to some things and not others. And if something like, say, Lakasha marriage customs, hasn’t come up, we don’t know anything about it. But if Neumeier needs to write about a Lakasha marriage, that’s when she’ll find out what happens.

It’s actually kind of fun, because it means that if it’s not in this book, the information almost certainly doesn’t exist yet. So fans can’t argue about what the author isn’t telling. Although I suspect Tuyo’s fandom is not that big or widespread at the moment. It could stand to be larger.

About a quarter of the book (the whole volume is a bit under four hundred pages) is devoted to the aforementioned novella, titled “Returning Hokino’s Knife”. In Tarashana, Hokino inKera was spying on the inGara to see his son Arayo. Arayo had been given to Sinowa inGara, lord of the inGara, as a tuyo in the same manner that Aras had taken Ryo. But Arayo is Hokino’s eldest living son and it’s been about three years. Ugaro don’t show as much emotion as we might, but they do feel it and Hokino has strong feelings for his son, leading him to want to see him, even from a distance. The confrontation when he was discovered led to Sinowa taking his knife and instructing his son and warleader Garoyo to return it later. Which means a raid. Thus, the story.

Like all the supplemental stories, “Returning Hokino’s Knife” is written in third person. The protagonist is Arayo inKera, the tuyo living with the inGara. We also see other familiar young men like Raga inGara, Ryo’s younger brother, and Tano inGara. There’s several other young men in this age group who are sure to become key figures in later stories.

It’s nice that Neumeier spent a chunk of time explaining the different kinds of raids the Ugaro enact on each other, and then Garoyo going over what he wants to happen in this one. It’s also good to see some of the training the young warriors have. Ryo was either largely past that training when Tuyo opened, or else it became irrelevant when he was left as tuyo.

As for the story itself, it’s interesting. Arayo wasn’t a particularly important figure until Tano and it’s clear that there’s a fair amount to him. And I think he’s perhaps not entirely certain what he wants in the long run. At least, he doesn’t seem to think as far ahead as some of his peers. To be fair, he’s been a bit focused on what he thinks about being a tuyo. The story also helps explain some changes that surprise Ryo when he returns home at the end of Tasmakat.

Overall, the book is fine. It’s just a lot of information in a relatively small number of pages. I doubt I’ll revisit most of the book in the future, but I’ll be sure to reread “Returning Hokino’s Knife”. As such, I’ll probably place this before Tasmakat on my shelf, because it happens before the bulk of that novel.

Also it’s weird to mark this post as “nonfiction” even though it really is.

Bad and Good

There is a question I should ask. Why am I tormenting myself?

Honestly, the longer I listen to the World of the Lupi audiobooks the more I have to ask. Was it just that these issues were easier to push aside in text form instead of audio? Was it that they’ve built up over more than a dozen volumes, and the repetition emphasizes what I was able to gloss over previously? Is it that I’ve become more attuned to some issues since I originally read them? Or perhaps novelty could subsume what repetition emphasizes.

Listening to Eileen Wilks’ Night Season was torturous. And not because we switched leads from Lily and Rule to Cynna and Cullen. Nor because Kai and Nathan are thrown in without context for anyone who hasn’t read “Inhuman”. I seem to recall this particular volume wasn’t one of my favorite entries the first time around. It might have been momentum that got me through it then and then onto the next.

And I have to ask myself if it’s really worth listening to more of this series.

I’ve already decided that I can’t keep these books. And for the short fiction, I’ve been considering whether or not I can get rid of those anthologies. (Generally no, they have other things inside that I want.) But there are a few moments, a few scenes, that I wouldn’t mind experiencing a second time. Unfortunately, these tend to be climaxes, meaning that I’d basically have to listen to each entire audiobook to get there. Not to mention however many volumes lie between where I stand and where they occur in the series.

I just don’t have a lot of fun listening to the World of the Lupi.

The Christian themes have become incredibly hard to ignore, and that’s on top of the forced heterosexuality common to mainstream, conventionally published paranormal romance. Oh, I know, Wilks will introduce a gay relationship later with Rule’s half-brother. It’s not worth noting.

Plus every single book in this series introduces a new element that keeps secrets and usually betrays our heroes at least once. And that kind of constant betrayal gets old and wearisome. Like I said, it’s not really fun. And it’s something that’s much easier to ignore or overlook in print form.

I am concerned about how much material is out there for me to listen to, particularly from GraphicAudio, but I think I’d be better off dropping this series and looking for something I’ll enjoy better. It’s not like there aren’t other things out there at this moment. And new ones are being created even now.

Life’s too short to waste it on bad books. Or on books that I’m not enjoying. That goes for audiobooks as well as physical ones. And I think I’m done with the lupi. Well, except for the short fiction that’s hanging around. And “Inhuman” was actually pretty good. It’s how those characters were introduced to the main series that I have issues with.

So, let’s call Night Season the end of my venture into lupi audiobooks. And we can leave it at that.

But now I should look at physical books because today is a big one. Not literally, it’s actually just a bit over four hundred pages. Not particularly long at all. But it’s a big series. And a big book as far as people I’ve spoken to are concerned.

I’m happy to tell people about my strange interest in novelizations. How I’ve got most superhero movies from the nineties and 2000s. How I’ve started reading the Star Trek and Star Wars novelizations. How that’s been going. And I’ve gotten one interesting reaction.

Multiple people have wholeheartedly recommended Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover to me.

It’s certainly an interesting choice. The prequel films tend to get the short end of the stick, although opinion seems to be changing currently to admit that perhaps critics of the day were a bit too harsh. And the original films tend to be put on a pedestal in contrast.

Now, I’ve said before and I’ll say again that I have never had especially strong feelings about Star Wars beyond the fact that it’s very overexposed, especially today. I can enjoy a space fantasy as much as the next person without devoting my entire life to it. And I will admit that the dialogue especially in the prequels often leaves a lot to be desired and helps things fall flat of where everyone wanted them to be.

I did rewatch Revenge of the Sith within the last month as preparation. And it struck me that if the dialogue was sometimes questionable (outside of how democracy dies, that line is amazing), there is so much thought put into the visual language. From Anakin’s tendency to dress in increasingly dark colors to Palpatine and Yoda’s climactic fight where they literally destroy the Senate, these people knew how to clue us in without a word. But we’re human, and we focus on the actors and what they say and do. And that is one of the weakest aspects of the film.

Matthew Stover gets it. He understands the epic story that Revenge of the Sith is telling. And he wants to make sure that his readers understand as well. From Count Dooku’s aristocratic egomania to the way Palpatine twists his words to confuse and persuade Anakin, Stover writes the story the movie tried to convey. And nails it.

I’m quite sure that a lot of this draws on elements of the expanded universe, things that are explored in more depth in books I’ll never read. I’m talking about things like the various fighting styles that a Jedi might employ. You can talk about the differences between Tae Kwon Do and Judo, or how Inigo Montoya and the Man in Black discuss different sword forms. Dooku has an intimate understanding of the various lightsaber techniques, and adapts his side of the fight with Anakin and Obi-Wan based on what he observes from them.

Or the HoloNet, Stover’s understanding of the Internet adapted to the Republic. And how Obi-Wan and Anakin are the Heroes of the Republic and seen as such through the HoloNet.

Or the theme of the dragon. Now this is very interesting, because Stover creates a bit of lore for Tatooine. Young Anakin heard once that dragons live in the hearts of the suns, the hearts of stars. And dragons fear nothing and no one. But later, as Obi-Wan’s padawan, Anakin saw a dead star. Obi-Wan explained that even stars die, and thus was born a symbol of Anakin’s fear. There is a dragon in his heart, and he fears that it will die. That Padmé will die as he’s dreamed. Because his dreams have always come true.

Truly, Revenge of the Sith is a masterful novelization. The action scenes exist, but they are as much, if not moreso, about the internal conflicts than about the set pieces that would presumably occupy an audience’s eyes. It’s not about what is happening, but why. And how. What is it, to become one with the Force as a Jedi should? What is it, to control the Force as a Sith would? Stover elegantly shows us the answer to both questions, making sense of what the eye can just barely track in the action scenes of the film. And because he focuses on the internal, the external doesn’t feel like it drags on longer than necessary.

Honestly, the only issue I could bring up is the word “alien”. The races of Star Wars, as discussed here, are “human” or “alien”. Which is very interesting when you consider that everything in the entire book is laid out along these lines. Humans aren’t the only race in the galaxy. They’r probably not even the oldest race. But they are the most important race to the stories being told. Dooku is very much a human supremacist. The Trade Federation is entirely made of nonhuman races, which will make it easier to further the human/alien divide. Dooku even looks down on Anakin for his droid hand.

Now, I can understand why we, as an audience are more drawn to human heroes and villains. But theoretically, humans are just one of many races in the Star Wars universe and there should be no reason why they take center stage . And yet, all of the major players are human. Anakin. Padmé. Obi-Wan. Mace Windu. Count Dooku. Even Palpatine. But if I wanted to lay blame for this human-centric view, that would be on George Lucas. Matthew Stover is simply working within the framework that already exists.

It’s no surprise that people would genuinely recommend this book to me. It just might be the best Star Wars novelization I’ve read. I recall that, of the original trilogy, Return of the Jedi was best. This was because, by allowing me to get into Luke and Vader’s heads during the climax, I could finally understand what gave it such import. In contrast, I already had an understanding of why the climax of Revenge of the Sith was so meaningful. But this book took what I usually consider an overly dramatic, overly meme’d scene, and allowed me to truly understand all that went into it.

Honestly, I think I’d rather reread the book than rewatch the film in the future. And that’s probably the most impressive thing of all.

Most novelizations I enjoy, or even love, because of the attachment I already had to the films. I’ll usually choose the film over the book because that’s what I liked first. The book just emphasizes what I already enjoyed, similar to how a good commentary track can. (And I am very picky about my commentary.)

Revenge of the Sith is different because I didn’t have strong feelings about the film to start with. And while I can remember scenes from the movie, I don’t feel that many of them are so iconic that they are best experienced that way. I mean, yes, Yoda and Palpatine destroying the Senate Chamber. And Obi-Wan and Anakin on Mustafar. But I have the memories of the single moments that really define those fights, and that’s more than enough when combined with Stover’s actual text. The image of the literal destruction of the Republic, the image of Obi-Wan standing over a limbless thing that was once a Jedi, these are all you need. Everything else is far better explored in the book.

Hell, the book even makes more sense because Bail Organa says to have C-3PO’s memory wiped after the protocol droid gushes that the newly adopted Leia is Padmé and Anakin’s daughter. This may also be in the film, but I often miss lines here or there because there’s so much going on. The gushing over whose biological daughter, that is. I heard the line about the droid’s mind being wiped even the first time I saw the movie.

I guess it goes to show you that a good adaptation can truly change your mind about a thing. I remember my opinion of Revenge of the Sith being that it was the movie we had to have, in order to get from Anakin Skywalker to Darth Vader. Inevitable, that was the word that came to mind. So it made sense in that greater context, but still rang hollow. Like the movie was obligated to exist in this form. The novelization, in contrast, feels like a much more organic unfolding of the story. I was invested in a way I never felt with the film. And that is why I have to keep this book.

Oh, and also this quote. Just to end on.

“He certainly did not intend to fight two Jedi with his pants on fire.”

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, p.60

Dreams and Realities

Sometimes it’s nice to take two days to read a book. Because I can. Or because I want to spend time with friends wandering around a great museum. Or both.

Today’s book is an anthology that’s been sitting on my shelf for some time now. I’m not sure why I had such a hard time forcing myself to read it, nor why I felt the need to take a break after every story in a way I don’t usually. It’s not a bad book. It’s right up my alley. Or maybe I just wasn’t in a mood for anything in my Pile but this was the best I could come up with. It’s hard to say.

The book is Perchance to Dream edited by Denise Little. So…all about dreams and dreaming. And of course this would have been after Neil Gaiman’s Sandman but before it really rose to prominence in the eyes of the world, not just comic fans. Also my copy is an ex-library book and for some reason the Oskaloosa Public Library thought this was a teen book? I’m not saying teens can’t read it, but DAW anthologies don’t usually aim themselves at young adults.

Diane Duane starts things off with “1-900-NODREAM”. So one can guess that the protagonist will call the number he saw in a late night TV ad for help in not dream. Why? Well, we learn that right off, well before any TVs are turned on. His dreams are of the last hours of murder victims. But he only gets sensory information. He has no idea who these people are, where they come from, or where their bodies lie. And it’s a harrowing experience that he gets to repeat night after night. Can’t exactly blame him for wanting out of it.

Then there’s “Night Stuff” by Nina Kiriki Hoffman. We’ve got some ghosts, one narrating, as they slip into the dreams of the man who now lives in the house where they died. It seems they’re a mother and daughter, victims of a murder-suicide. Oops, did I get flashbacks to Smoke and Mirrors? Bad me. Different story, different author.

Peter Crowther touches on some odd notes in “Dream a Little Dream For Me…” First, we’ve got the stereotypical adult male who seems to spend all his time worth living in bars and smoking, but isn’t actually happy. Then we add some religious stuff on top of that. So there was a lot the story had to overcome and it really didn’t.

“The Piper” by Jody Lynn Nye also made me uncomfortable for multiple reasons. In a world where dreams have become the next big destination for wealthy vacationers as well as troubled minds, coma victims offer the best dreamscapes. That’s what our protagonist is, a person who came out of a coma into a world where her own injury could make her a ton of money. Unfortunately, the man who scooped her up for an exclusive contract comes off as a controlling user, on the edge of abuse. Things may turn out all right, but the vibes are off for the entire story and I just can’t believe in the happy ending.

David Bischoff’s story “Rounded by a Sleep” also touches on aspects of agency, or lackthereof, that made me uncomfortable with the previous story. In this case, an old man is having some crazy dreams. He also learns that he has a tumor in his brain. It can be removed, but he’ll never be able to dream again. And dreams are where his loves of the past live, as opposed to his apparently healthy social life in the present. I have issues with this story too on the same level as Nye’s.

“Needle and Dream” is the one story I’ve read before, although I don’t recall it. I know I have read it though because it’s by Andre Norton and this is my second copy. We have an isolated village where people are trained from childhood that any dreams must be reported to the Keeper. Bad dreams, nightmares, can bode ill for the village as true foretellings. And that’s why our main character is afraid upon waking. Because she’s dreamt something truly awful for the village. But, she knows what she must do and she goes to the Keeper, who happily doesn’t judge.

I guess Jane Yolen doesn’t just work with Adam Stemple but also Heidi Stemple, who I assume to be married to the former. Anyway, the women wrote “Holy, Holy, Holy” which my brain keeps wanting to read as “Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh”, right out of one of the morning prayers in Hebrew. And because, you know, Yolen’s Jewish. I don’t know about the Stemples. And our protagonist, a young Jew, has had a vision. What’s a girl to do, other than call her bestie?

“On the Edge of Sleep” is a Jane Lindskold story. A pair of lovers wish, as they’re falling asleep, that they could spend their dreams together. A force chooses to grant this wish and things get strange.

This might be from Nancy Springer’s “very weird” stories period. “Dreamfisher” presents us with an isolated village of people who do not name things. Or people. And so when a girl is born who continually associates one thing with another, such as describing the shapes of clouds or her proposed husband as a turd, she is not welcomed. And then there’s some weird historical fan fiction with Herodotus?

“The Dreams That Stuff is Made Of” is a Josepha Sherman story and science fiction. There are two main forces among the spacefaring species; the Alliance and the Tar’q. The latter are entirely mysterious but respect Alliance worlds and Alliance Protectorates. So when the Tar’q show interest in an apparently low-tech world with sentients on it, a group of humans (closest in appearance to the natives of Alliance races) descends to try and get them to join and thus save their lives and home.

Gary Braunbeck’s “Consolation Prize” has some…connotations. A young man has asked for a Magus’ help because he’s sure his father’s dream is killing him. Bruises around his throat and everything. And I’m pretty sure he’s coded as gay, just to add to his father’s disappointments. It’s not the easiest reading, but I don’t think the ending is bad. But I might want the opinion of a queer friend who went through something similar as to whether it’s actually a good ending or not.

For some reason, “A Butterfly Dreaming” by Susan Sizemore put me in mind of the Darwath books. Probably because our protagonist is from our world and has been thrust into a much more medieval one. She’s a physician and was brought into another woman’s (and physician’s) body in order to perform bypass surgery. But her own body was killed and now she’s stuck living this other woman’s life. It’s not the worst thing, but she didn’t actually ask for it.

When I saw the title of Bruce Holland Rogers’ story, I suspected I wouldn’t like it. And how could I? “Marty Plotz’s Rules For Success” is about how a lazy, good-for-nothing, entitled idiot saved the human race through his personal failings. It smacks of cishet white men getting the prize for showing up and I’m so over that at this point in my life. I know Marty’s not supposed to be that likable or emulatable, but the fact that we’re just supposed to smile and nod and let him get away with it because it worked just irks me.

Finally we end on “Shelter” by Michelle Sagara West. Humans are now able to use the full power of their brains and one man was able to create a way for us to have a collective dreaming. And it’s awesome, better than any VR. The problem is that children are having nightmares, and having trouble connecting to the collective. Our main characters are researchers tasked with helping repair those bridges. And things are about to get much, much more challenging.

There are some good stories in this book. Some that I really enjoyed or thought were very interesting. But there’s also stories of types that I’m losing my patience with. I feel like the more we actually talk about what a problem it is to live in a country that’s been shaped almost exclusively by cishet white men for centuries, the more I notice how prevalent certain attitudes are. And that includes in stories.

Yes, we’re seeing more diverse authors getting more attention and reach in recent decades, but that doesn’t undo the damage done. It doesn’t change the fact that there are a huge number of short stories alone that are built on these foundations and were published years before attitudes shifted so much. It’s true that a decade ago I probably wouldn’t have even remarked on them so much. But I would like to think that I’ve grown to expect better in that time, to want stories that don’t have to rest on flawed assumptions or idealize toxic traits.

I know I’m not perfect. But I know I’m more aware of how I’ve been influenced in the past to ignore and accept things that shouldn’t be overlooked or accepted. And that means acknowledging bias and calling it out when I see it.

I don’t always list when I see stories using slurs, even if they were commonly accepted at the time. Sometimes it’s just a single word out of five thousand or more and when I’m going back over a three hundred page book in my head, I don’t always remember every single story that used a slur. I tend to focus more on attitudes, because those are usually more memorable in the long run. Unless a slur is repeated over and over. That does make an impression.

There are books I question these days, like The Free Bards and others that use slurs freely. I have to ask myself how those people are portrayed, whether it seems respectful, and how that stacks up against the story itself.

I have to ask myself…is it time to sell JKR’s books?

That’s a question I’ve been asking ever since it became clear that there is no reasoning with the woman, and that supporting her is to deny the humanity of my own friends. And her platform and reach is such that it is legitimately important to understand how even small support goes a long way.

I’m lucky, in that I was never one to define my personality or life by the world she created. But I did like the books. Enjoyed watching some of the movies (others less so). But as I bring a more critical lens to even a random short story in a random anthology, I have to begin to admit I cannot go back. I don’t think I can reread those books again.

The movies are something else to consider. But they don’t take up space that I desperately need for newer, better books.

I wasn’t expecting, when I sat down an hour ago to write this post, that discussing an anthology would have me finally deciding to get rid of a completely unrelated set of books. But that’s the nature of how our minds work. They subconsciously latch onto similar ideas and feelings in two different things and make an association. And by making that association, they help us to understand both a little better.

I Did Say

Lately I’ve been scrambling a little for novels to intersperse with my excessive number of anthologies. Because, of course, what I have doesn’t necessarily appeal to me at a given moment. Sometimes it’s because I need to space things out, like the Star Wars novelizations. Other times it’s because I’m not in a mood for science fiction, or whatever the specification is. And then there’s the books that I probably shouldn’t be hanging onto but haven’t yet decided to move to the sell pile. Possibly because said sell pile is me tall right now and leaning against the wall as is. I haven’t decided when I’m actually going to deal with it, nor where I plan to take any of the books to. I mean, the paranormal romance really has to go to a certain shop because most of the others don’t bother with romance. But the rest I could take any number of places.

Today’s book is one that I’ve actually mentioned as being a consideration on this blog. I just had to get it from the library because I wasn’t sure how much of a commitment I wanted to make. And yesterday I picked up The Morganville Vampires Volume 1 by Rachel Caine. This is an omnibus of the first two novels, Glass Houses and The dead Girls’ Dance.

Now, I read two short stories from this series recently. One featured the young vampire Michael, and the other his friend Shane. The two stories have some key differences from the novels. First and foremost, they have male protagonists. Secondly, the protagonists narrate the stories.

The novels are written in third person and the main character, at least so fair, is Claire Danvers. She, unlike the boys, isn’t from Morganville. She’s just here for college. She’s also quite bright, which is how you have a sixteen year old in college. So she doesn’t know a thing about vampires when she arrives. All she knows is that she’s being seriously bullied and hazed in the dorms, to the point that she fears for her life. Which is why she starts looking for another place to live.

She finds the Glass House, so called because it is owned by Michael Glass, and the three roommates living there. Michael, who’s only around at night, Shane, who’s something of a rebel jock, and Eve, the Goth girl. The group hits it off with Claire, the only sour note being her age. I’ll note here that Michael is not a vampire at the start of the series, but there are some strange things about him, as Claire will learn.

I have to admit, the first portion of Glass Houses is rough going. Because the first two thirds or so are much less about the fact that Morganville is basically owned and run by vampires and much more about bitchy teen girl drama. Claire’s main antagonist is Monica Morrell, daughter of the mayor, and general queen bee. She’s Morganville born and bred, Protected by a vampire, and somewhat insane. She’s perfectly happy to torture, maim, and even kill. And she fully intends that Claire should die.

This is not comfortable reading. Seriously, I rewatched Mean Girls for the first time in years recently and it was a lot harder than I expected. I cringed through so much of the film, and not necessarily the things I thought. (Although take it from someone who knows. That is not Old Orchard mall.) But my tolerance for bitchy teen drama has plummeted in the past decade or so.

However, once we get past that, it’s relatively engaging. I do question Claire’s ability to land herself in the hottest water, center stage, but for the time being I’ll just accept that. It may break my suspension of disbelief in the future. But I do like vampires.

There’s also the second novel inside, The Dead Girls’ Dance. We get some repercussions to the first novel. See, Shane called his dad for help. His family was from Morganville, but left after their house burned down with Shane’s little sister inside. And a funny thing happens when you leave town; your memory blurs and fades, and vampires aren’t real anymore.

Well, Shane’s mom remembered, because she loved her daughter very much. She got Shane to remember, and he helped his dad. And now his dad’s on a crusade against all vampires. So when he arrives to find that the problem from last book is solved, it’s no big deal. He’ll just take his biker gang and kill as many vampires as possible. What does it matter to him if his own son is killed in retaliation for the death of a particularly cruel vampire?

Once again, it’s up to Claire to find the information and the evidence necessary to save the day. Which could get old. We’ll have to see. I appreciate that the short stories are from other characters’ viewpoints, so it remains to be seen if the entire main series is focused on Claire.

As I said, these books aren’t bad. They had some rough spots, namely with people who will not listen no matter what you do or say, but that is a little understandable. I appreciate that they’re not terribly written, and that I’ve never read them before. I don’t know that I’d invest a significant amount of money to read the series. As things stand, the library network has the first eight books in omnibus form. However, there’s no copies of the ninth book to be found. If I persist that long, I’ll have to either buy my own or see how long interlibrary loan takes. Because ILL can be a bit of a hassle, I figure I’ll wait and see how the other books I can get go.

I mean, interlibrary loan isn’t that bad. But you don’t usually get renewals, and it generally takes at least a week or two to get the book. Plus you can’t use the normal hold system, and you have to check it out and return it at the front desk, not the self-service areas. So, more talking to people required than anything in the local library or the network.

I’ve definitely enjoyed worse books than the Morganville Vampires. And I’m looking forward to my next holds coming in sometime next week. There’s no telling what more the series will hold for me, but it could be so much worse.

Oops All Pictures

The thing about Wednesdays is that they’re new comic book days. True, conventional books and DC comics are officially out on Tuesdays, but by Wednesdays everything that is new for the week should be out on display. Assuming shipments didn’t have issues or anything like that. And if I do go to the comic shop in a given week, it’s usually on Wednesday for that reason. Might as well see all the new stuff when it’s new.

This week I had a graphic novel to pick up. I didn’t know too much about it, but it sounded interesting. Bloodline: Daughter of Blade means we’re talking about a young woman who’s one quarter vampire. And why wouldn’t this character have been known previously? (I cannot speak to when she was actually created.) Well, Dr. Stephen Strange cast a spell on baby Brielle to conceal her nature. But since he died recently, well, the spell went kaput. (And no, I have no idea who is actually sorcerer supreme right now, nor if Strange is actually alive or dead at present because comics.)

Bri is a young Black woman in highschool. Reasonably intelligent as well as athletic, she’s been having a rough time of things lately. Especially because she didn’t know that vampires were real until she ended up with one in her face. And, naturally, once it comes out that both mother and daughter know about vampires, mom’s going to call in dad. Blade.

As far as young adult origins go, it’s fine. Nothing super exciting, but not terrible. Which is why I don’t see any point in keeping it. There’s nothing truly exceptional about it, nothing I haven’t seen before in other forms. But if you were interested, I can’t say don’t read it because there’s so much worse out there as far as young women learning to be badass.

Then there was a comic from last week. Which I did pick up last week, or rather on Saturday (Batman day), but hadn’t gotten around to reading before. It is Alligator Loki #1. I know, alligator Loki (or Croki) has taken the world by storm since the first season of that Disney+ show. And I figured I might as well read the comic because, well, alligator Loki.

This is one of the best comic decisions I’ve made this year. Alligator Loki is absolutely adorable. It’s a silent comic, made up of a series of shorts. We see alligator Loki’s arrival in normal bipedal Thor’s universe and his adventures therein. We even see the return of normal bipedal Loki and subsequent interactions with alligator Loki.

Seriously though, this book is amazing. The moment I saw Thor carrying alligator Loki in a baby sling through a theme park I was done for. And that was just the second short comic in this book. And this is a normal length comic issue, not a graphic novel.

There’s so many cute touches. Thor puts alligator Loki in timeout…in the reptile house of a zoo. Bipedal Loki is messaging Thor on is cell phone…and he’s assigned his brother the poo emoji for an avatar. Later, at a party, there’s a bunch of instant photos taken on a Thorlaroid camera. And these are just a few moments I’ve mentioned.

Alligator Loki is well worth the money.

From Over the Ocean

Labor Day weekend I took a bit of a trip. Not to the used bookstore that takes an entire day to get to, but to a different one, with new and used books, in the western suburbs. I heard through a friend about them having a sale and, as I’d never been there before, figured it might be fun to poke around in that area. To cut a long story short, it wasn’t the best adventure I’ve had, but I did buy a book. Just one.

It is, no surprise, an anthology. And it’s got a tor.com logo on the spine, so I had a reasonable idea of what to expect. Especially given the title. The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories informs us on the cover that it’s not only “a collection of Chinese science fiction and fantasy in translation” but also “from a visionary team of female and nonbinary creators”. So, very modern stuff. And I figured it’s appropriate to read. Worldcon this year is happening in Chengdu, China and the translations of these stories would have been eligible for the Hugos.

Of course, China is significant not just because of where Worldcon is this year. It’s one of the most populous countries in the world, and a huge economic force. It’s also known to have somewhat rigid cultural and gender standards and the government wields a great deal of control over some aspects of life.

The book features stories, some of which were written in English although most are translated, and essays. And at this point it’s probably best to actually look at the contents before starting to analyze them as a whole. I’ll simply say, before I begin, that I will be including the translators here as well. The book makes sure to credit them and to do so overtly and obviously. How can I respect their work any less, particularly when I cannot even begin to understand Chinese? I know a few words of Japanese, and probably a few of Chinese, but I couldn’t even hope to associate those with their proper characters. Which says nothing of the variance present in one or more of these languages. But I’m getting distracted again.

The book opens with Xiu Xinyu’s story “The Stars We Raised”, translated by Judy Yi Zhou. The narrator tells of life in a small village where baby stars can be found. Children love to capture them and attempt to raise them, but it’s one of those things that simply can’t be done. Or…can it? Maybe the quiet boy who is always bullied might know something the rest don’t.

Next is “The Tale of Wude’s Heavenly Tribulation” by Count E, translated by Mel “etvolare” Lee. It’s the story of a fox on the road to cultivation (I think I interpret this as enlightenment?). He’s gotten to the point where he can take on human form, but his appearance isn’t perfect; his tail remains. He discovers that in order to fix this imperfection in his appearance, he must endure a tribulation. But nothing is ever so simple, especially because said trial could kill him and he’d like to avoid that if possible.

Xia Jia’s story “What Does the Fox Say?” follows that. It was, not entirely surprisingly, written in English. But it doesn’t actually talk about a certain song. No, this reflects on a sentence many English speakers probably know: “the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog”. The author reflects on the purpose of the sentence, as well as the meaning. Then expands on and plays with the latter to extrapolate an actual story from it. Flash fiction and very short, but still a story.

Then Cara Healey translates Shen Dacheng’s story “Blackbird”. It takes place at a nursing home, starting through the lens of a young nurse who is somewhat new there. The focus of the tale is Mrs. An, a resident of the home who has been there some twenty years. She seems to be a proud woman, acknowledged queen of the nursing home, although she is long past her prime. Also, the nurses agree, a bit creepy.

With a title like “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe: Tai-Chi Mashed Taro”, I wondered if Anna Wu’s story had anything to do with a certain English-language book series. But the tale Carmen Yiling Yan translated is much less absurd and far more melancholy. There are three lenses here: a servant whose learned master wishes to go out to the center of the lake in the cold, the master himself, and Mo, the daughter of the man running the titular restaurant. It’s a story of time, of food, and of value.

Jing Tsu presents the first essay of the volume: “The Futures of Genders in Chinese Science Fiction”. It touches on the introduction of the Western genre of science fiction through the work of authors like Jules Verne, and how different this was from traditional Chinese writing. However, writing did remain a male-dominated field for decades after that, with female characters still being vessels for male explorations. Things are changing now, but it’s unclear as to how in relation to what is a century or more old.

“Baby, I Love You” is the next story, from author Zhao Haihong as translated by Elizabeth Hanlon. A man has been testing a computer game that is a baby simulation. Kind of a cross between that stereotypical fake baby assignment from US schools and the Sims computer games. His boss wants him to develop a VR version of the game, and demands that the man (and his wife) have a child in order to facilitate the development. The man, liking the idea after becoming addicted to the game and in favor of making money, agrees. Clearly someone needs to remember the cardinal rule of a relationship: do not deceive your partner because your lies will come out at the worst time.

BaiFanRuShuang’s story “A Saccharophilic Earthworm” is translated by Ru-Ping Chen. We’re shown a woman who tends to her flowers. Her husband is reservedly pleased by this. The woman was once a rising star among directors until an accident robbed her of lower body mobility and some of her wits. Now she tends to her flowers, imagining them to be the stars of her next show. And it’s hard for him, remembering what she was.

Ru-Ping Chen translates another BaiFanRuShuang story, “The Alchemist of Lantian”. The narrator is, although we don’t realize it for a time, the titular alchemist. They’re tired of the world, of life, and only taking sporadic notice of things around them. Which is why they accidentally break the valuable jar a woman is holding. Now they have to decide what to, or to not, do about it.

The book’s titular story, “The Way Spring Arrives”, is next. Wang Nuonuo’s work is translated by Rebecca F. Kuang…whom I believe to be the same R.F. Kuang that wrote Babel. But more on that later. For now, we focus on the boy Goumang, who is determined that he should marry Xiaoqing. She’s leaving the village for good, and he can’t stand the thought of losing her. So he accompanies her while she brings spring to the world.

After that, Yiling Wang reflects on “Translation as Retelling: An Approach to Translating Gu Shi’s “To Procure Jade” and Ling Chen’s “The Name of the Dragon””. There’s so many aspects of translation that are entirely overlooked by anyone who is unfamiliar with the process. Whether it’s the fact that certain words sound alike in one language but not another, or just basic elements of one culture that are unknown to another. The latter, of course, raises the eternal question of how much do you explain for the reader? Not enough, and many non-Chinese readers will be annoyed in their confusion. Too much, and readers will think the translator has assumed their stupidity. There’s also an interesting look at the use of gendered and ungendered pronouns in Chinese over the years.

Obviously after that comes Ling Chen’s “The Name of the Dragon” that Yilin Wang just discussed translating. The two human characters find a vessel picturing a dragon, and debate which dragon it is based on its appearance. And then…then we get a glimpse into the dragon’s mind, as it exists in its painted prison.

“To Procure Jade” is the other work Yilin Wang discussed translating, this time by Gu Shi. Of the two, I do prefer this story. It’s about an eunuch named Deyu whom the Empress Dowager ordered to find Yu Spring, “the spring of jade”. It seems this is another myth of immortality pursued by the rulers of China. But that’s just the opening premise and to say more would spoil the tale.

Nian Yu’s story “A Brief History of Beinakan Disasters as Told in a Sinitic Language” translated by Ru-Ping Chen is probably the purest science fiction in the book. It’s easy enough to figure out that the narrator, who is presumably a Beinakan, isn’t human. And when they mention that they remember living on another world, well. A reader must stick with the story to understand where this narrator came from, and where they are as they relate the tale.

“Is There Such a Thing as Feminine Quietness? A Cognitive Linguistics Perspective” is another essay, this time by Emily Xueni Jin. This discussion is sparked by what was apparently a hot internet topic: a single choice of words in the Chinese translation of the Disney live-action film Mulan. We all know that the story crosses gender lines. So it was interesting to note that when the matchmaker lists four virtues for soon-to-be-brides, one is “quiet”. And the word chosen in Chinese translates to “elegantly and delicately quiet”. But because this list of virtues is supposed to transition from Mulan being a viewed as bride material to a national hero, this choice struck an off chord in some Chinese viewers. The essayist goes on to describe how even a simple word like “quiet” is subject to many varying subtleties in Chinese, and how a simple-seeming choice can change the entire mood being conveyed.

After that, Emily Xueni Jin translates Shen Yingying’s story “Dragonslaying”. The protagonist is a female doctor come to see the art of dragonslaying, the most secret medical practice in the land. Perhaps she hopes that she might add it to her repertoire, as she must be far better than her male counterparts to succeed as a doctor. But considering that “dragonslaying” may be a misnomer, she first has to know the truth of what it is, what it involves. And…that may change things. A lot. This story is not for the weak of stomach.

Then there’s “New Year Painting, Ink and Color on Rice Paper, Zhaoqiao Village” by Chen Qian, translated by Emily Xueni Jin. The narrator’s friend buys things at the antique market to identify and sell for higher prices. The narrator restores antique book and paintings. So when their friend finds bits of a curious painting in the latest box of crap, the narrator is persuaded to restore a mysterious painting.

Chu Xiado’s story “The Painting” is translated by Gigi Chang. The artist is trying to create the titular painting. It’s to be his crowning achievement, the last of his series A Hundred Beauties. But he just can’t get it right for some reason. And why does the hundredth young woman consume his mind so?

Another somewhat macabre piece is “The Woman Carrying a Corpse”, which Judith Huang has translated from Chi Hui’s original. It is presented in a series of scenes. Various people, such as an idler, traveler, optimist, etc. see her and her burden and react as their descriptors indicate. It’s an interesting reflection of the people around the woman.

Rebecca F. Kuang also translated “The Mountain and the Secret of Their Names” by Wang Nuonuo. This story weaves the advancements of technology with the old ways of a remote village. Because the village is remote, in a relatively unpopulated part of China, there’s a lot of debris from Stage One rockets falling onto it. China needs to launch its satellites, and best the empty rockets fall in a relatively empty area. Which is still a problem for the people living there. Hence why the village Badaixiong, the shaman, divines where the pieces will fall and petitions the ancestors to protect the village. And the main character, the shaman’s grandson, is as much a part of the new ways as the old, looking forward to watching the Beijing Olympics on a small color TV after he helps with the ancient rituals.

Xueting Christine Ni’s essay “Net Novels and the “She Era”: How Internet Novels Opened the Door for Female Readers and Writers in China” is a lengthy and fascinating overview. It’s amazing to think of how the relatively unmonitored spaces of the internet have cultivated so much. And the app-based webreaders that’ve become pervasive in recent years have clearly changed a great deal. In America we talk more about fan-fiction, but here (this essay at least) is focused almost entirely on original fiction. Oh sure, it’s often influenced or inspired by classic (Chinese) literature, but that’s common for any culture. There’s even a small section on BL, or Boy’s Love, literature. Which is apparently mostly written by women for women.

Finally we end on “Writing and Translation: A Hundred Technical Tricks” by Rebecca F. Kuang. This discusses more of the choices a translator makes, and how changing the language of a story is akin to rewriting it from the ground up. So the translator has to do more than know the words being used, but they have to understand the context and emotion of each line of the story, so that they can create something similar in tone and meaning in a different language. It’s not about a one-to-one change in each word. It’s about taking something that makes complete sense to a native Chinese speaker, and turning it into something that makes complete sense to a native English speaker, but with a flavor that evokes its Chinese origins. Which is, of course, why there’s been an increasing awareness for the importance of translation and localization. Because you can’t just give someone a two-language dictionary and tell them to translate an epic saga. They have to have a thorough understanding of both languages in order to allow readers of the translation to have a similar experience to readers of the original.

These are some of the ideas that underlay Kuang’s novel Babel. Unfortunately, while they were good ideas, they were drowned under uninteresting characters and politics. Still, the translations in this book were good.

I don’t see myself ever being fluent enough in another language to read literature produced in it. I came close when I studied Latin in highschool, to the point where though I didn’t get credit on my AP exam, I do still remember part of what I translated for it (because it was interesting). Hebrew is a little more problematic because I was never given any kind of grounding in the language’s structure until my seventh (nonconsecutive) year of study. But with a proper foundation, I might find it easier than Latin. Might. Latin is a basis for so many English words that I had similar contextual clues for that class as I do for Hebrew.

The point is that there’s a huge amount of literature, in all genres, that I will never have a chance to read if not for books like The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories. And so I greatly appreciate that people have taken the time to translate them into English. I may not have enjoyed every story here, but I did appreciate them and the glimpse into the culture that produced them. I don’t actually know how many of these were written or translated by people living in China, so it’s very likely that some of the people write and translate through the lens of being Chinese in a land other than China.

I can relate to that, especially as it comes to how much should be explained for non-Chinese audiences. I mentioned earlier how a translator explaining too much can be construed as an insult to the audience. Certainly I’ve experienced that when reading books incorporating Jewish aspects. Things that I think are too obvious to need explanation. And then I run into a friend’s post on facebook about how they tried to make matzo balls and realized that it’s not something you can just do. There’s things we know, that our parents and grandparents teach us about how to make them, that isn’t conveyed in the recipe on the canister or box. I simply never thought about it that way until I saw that post because my mother taught me how to make matzo balls twenty or thirty years ago.

I suspected, even when I bought The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories that I wouldn’t keep it. I’ve already got one anthology specifically written by members of the Chinese diaspora and many of those stories failed to hit home because I’m not in that group. But I felt it would be an interesting exercise to look at modern Chinese genre fiction and through the female and nonbinary lens. It’s a book worth reading, even if I don’t think it’s worth keeping.

Patience

Sometimes I am patient. Whether it’s waiting for Disney Hyperion to finally release a Rick Riordan or Rick Riordan Presents book in paperback, or for a set of comics to be collected in a much more cost-effective graphic novel, I can be patient. Paperbacks tend to fit better on my shelves and they’re generally the cheapest way to get something. Hardcovers can be nice, but most of the time I don’t require that format.

Hence I have been very patiently waiting for Dark Knights of Steel Volume 1. It’s the DC universe we all know, but with some tweaks. First and foremost, it’s a much more medieval version of Earth. Which is all well and good. But that’s where the real changes start.

Changes like…what if Jor-El and Lara-El were the ones in the escape pod? And if Kal-El was born here on Earth? Changes like the main enemy apparently being an amalgamation of Lex Luthor, Green Lantern, Joker, and with a bit of Mordred’s character design thrown in as well.

Plus Yasmine Putri and Bengal, plus colorist Arif Prianto, have created some gorgeous artwork to tell this story. And oh, such a story.

There are many recognizable characters throughout. Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, way too many Robins, John Constantine, and even Amanda Waller among others. There’s others whom I’m not entirely certain I recognize, but that’s okay. It’s not like it’s necessary to recognize everyone in order to enjoy the story. You mostly need to know the basics of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Supergirl.

The House of El rules one of three kingdoms we’ve been focused on. The others are Amazonia and the Kingdom of Storms. The latter of which has never trusted the Els based on a prophecy John Constantine spouted years ago. Still, things seem peaceful enough outside of the Batman’s crusade. He and his Robins track down and imprison any magic-users found within the El kingdom to ensure the safety of all. He’s a bit of a fanatic, but he is loyal and means well.

Then things change. Jor-El and Bruce are having a heart-to-heart outside on the castle walls when Ollie, the Green Arrow, shoots to kill at the Green Man’s urging. And that’s when we start to see how incredibly fragile this peace truly is. But it definitely seems like things are getting worse, faster, than they should be.

Of course, this graphic novel is only the first half of the series. The comics are out in full, but it’s going to be a while before the second volume is out. And I’m going to wait once more for it to be in paperback, so it’s going to be months at a minimum before I know what happens next. This is almost excruciating, but better that than years of regret looking at a mismatched paperback next to a hardcover. I know where my priorities lie.

Honestly, what more needs to be said? I am entirely hooked on this medieval imagining of the DC universe. There’s several amalgamation characters combining two or more figures from the normal universe, which does cut down on the number of characters. There’s still plenty here, of course, but it’s nowhere near as overwhelming as trying to figure out what comics are part of the normal DC universe at this moment.

And it’s good stuff. I really liked it. Of course, I don’t have more, so I really should find something completely different to read next.

Sound and Fury

Today I finished listening to Blood Lines, the third Lupi novel by Eileen Wilks. This is the book where things really start changing for the world as a whole. The realms are shifting, bringing Earth closer to the others than it’s been in centuries. Which also has the effect of increasing the ambient magic. There’ve been “power winds” blowing, sudden rushes of magic worldwide that last for several minutes. These are the the biggest signs yet of the shifting realms and things are only going to get stranger from here on out.

Lily and Rule are in Washington DC. Lily’s had to have some training given her short tenure so far in the FBI, and Rule gets to play politics a bit. Oh, and Lily also has an assignment. Go to lots of parties, shake lots of hands, and figure out who’s made a deal with a demon. One Congressman reported being offered a deal, so you know there’s got to be several others who were approached. And given politicians, some had to have taken it.

Signs point to Cynna Weaver’s old teacher being involved. There’s no proof yet, but of all those who study demonology, she’s considered the most knowledgeable. And Cynna is a little distracted by the too-attractive-for-his-own-good Cullen Seaborne. The lupus sorcerer. He was off hunting for the dragons that helped Rule and Lily return from Dis when the power wind struck the first time.

Rule and Lily were at a show. And it was kind of a problem because the rush of power induced lupi to change forms. Rule was able to hold it back, but one of the performers wasn’t so lucky. Things got worse because later that night, they were taking him home when a demon showed up and attacked Rule. As they attacked many Lu Nuncios. Including the heir to the Leidolf Clan.

Leidolf has been a bitter enemy of Nokolai for decades. And the young performer was also Leidolf, but died defending Rule from the demon. So, events have conspired to get Rule there where more of his life will be turned on its head.

The more I listen the more I’m convinced that yes, twice will be more than enough for this series. I remember a lot of things, but not nearly as many as I would for other series. Just the things I found most interesting. Which isn’t most of these books. And that’s sad. But I guess it’s a suspension of disbelief thing.

Oh, and religion. The Christian undertones have been there from the start, but somehow hearing them makes them even more obvious. And annoying. I’d forgotten that in this book, Rule has a bunch of memory lapses. And the explanation? He feels so much guilt over Lily’s adventures in Dis that this is how his subconscious punishes him. Is that not the most Christian thing? If he was Jewish, he’d make up for it by feeding Lily.

Last month I was flying halfway across the country and had a layover in Atlanta. And while that is not a small airport, I have to say. I’d much rather have a layover there than have to drive through that city. I know people who plan their entire roadtrips around Atlanta’s rush hour.

I’ve mentioned previously that I found a bookstore while I was in Atlanta’s airport. One of the books I bought was part of a series and I’d gotten a copy from the library while it was only in hardcover. The other was a romance by a local author that was…okay. I had issues with prestigious golf clubs because of course I did. And then there’s the third book.

This one was a sequel that I hadn’t even considered might exist. But there was something about the cover design and the title, Twice Cursed, that made me take a second look. And sure enough I was right. This is a follow-up to the anthology Cursed, which I’d acquired during lockdown. Surprisingly, Twice Cursed is quite new, only five months old as I type. And the original anthology was fairly new when I’d bought it as well.

This is entirely unusual for me, as the only current anthologies I tend to read are from Kickstarters, and that assumes I get to them in a timely manner. Most of the anthologies I read are decades old. Sometimes even older than I am. Although not every story in Twice Cursed is being printed for the first time. Of the sixteen stories, four have been published elsewhere in previous years. Which is interesting, but I’ll come back to this point later.

Joanne Harris opens the book with “The Bell”. The premise sounds similar to things I’ve read before; a young person who hears fairy tales of old and longs for that golden age. So he sets off into the forest and finds a stone castle, filled with stone people from those days. But that’s where things really diverge. In a good way, as far as originality goes.

But originality is a prize and it’s not easily won. The first time I ever read “Snow, Glass, Apples” my mind was blown by Neil Gaiman’s terrifying new take on Snow White. However, that was over a decade ago, when I first read The Secret History of Fantasy. Twice Cursed is now my fourth copy of the story, including the graphic novel adaptation. I won’t say the story isn’t still good, because it is, but I’m over it.

One question I ask over and over again is why the same stories keep getting reprinted. In this case, it really feels like the answer is “money”. Neil Gaiman’s name is known. He’s basically a household name at this point. Which means having him on the cover of your anthology will allow you to move that many more copies. Never mind that the story in question is almost thirty years old. Or that the people spending money for his name alone have probably already read it at least once.

What’s really sad is that this isn’t the first time I’ve seen Gaiman doing a reprint in a new anthology. The Djinn Falls in Love featured an excerpt from American Gods. Not a sequel to that story, or even a rewrite. Just that segment lifted wholesale and reprinted. Then, as now, it feels like a ripoff. Even worse than when I see an anthology touting a new Song of Ice and Fire story as a selling point. Because even if I find GRRM’s most famous world to be largely boring and dry, it’s still generally a new piece.

If Gaiman isn’t going to bother writing anything new, why should he be taking up space in this anthology that is dominated by never-before-seen works? I’m not saying there shouldn’t be reprinted works, but something as well known as “Snow, Glass, Apples” is overkill in a way that really brings down the book. Reprints should be stories that most people would never have heard of, things they might not have known were missing in their lives. Not stories that I already have multiple copies of.

Angela Slatter tells the story of “The Tissot Family Circus”. It’s a bit odd to start with, as we see a woman and an old man driving up towards a town with a wagon and a horse. Nothing else. So…how do two people call themselves a circus? To answer that now would be to spoil the tale.

I have a question about “Mr Thirteen”. Namely, why does this book not use periods after abbreviations like “Mr.” and “St.”? I know that you can do it without periods. It’s just weird to me. Maybe it’s a British thing? Anyway, this story is set in a world where curses are very real. And they tend to be lifelong problems. Which is why it can’t be surprising that cursed individuals would form support groups, similar to Alcoholics Anonymous. And that’s what “Mr Thirteen” walks into.

Sarah Pinborough’s story, “The Confessor’s Tale”, is another reprint. Not that I knew it at the time. No, I only guessed at the very end and because of a single word: Cenobite. Because I know I haven’t heard anything about a new Hellraiser movie recently. I will admit, I’ve never actually seen any of the films. I actually have plans (and a ticket) to see the original next month. In an actual theater. But between pop culture osmosis and Longbox of the Damned (part of Atop the Fourth Wall), I have a good idea of the premise.

This is a worthy reprint though. Not just because the story is good, but because I, like many others, would probably have never known that there is an anthology of stories set in the world of Hellraiser. Similar to Sandman: Book of Dreams, or perhaps to a novelization. It’s a niche item, sure, but nothing I’d heard of before. And depending on how next month goes, maybe I’ll look out for that book in the future. Like I said, I thought this story was good. I just figure I’ll wait until I’ve seen the movie before I make any decisions about taking a further plunge.

“The Old Stories Hide Secrets Deep Inside Them” comes from Mark Chadbourn. The tale here mixes legends, myths, archaeology, and cishet white male privilege into a relatively cohesive whole. It’s not entirely cohesive by design, of course. Magic has a tendency to muddle some aspects.

Laura Purcell offers another take on Snow White in “Awake”. Rather than some strange vampiric horror terrifying everyone around her, the titular woman in this tale is unable to share her horror with anyone else. They don’t see it, they don’t understand how she suffers. All they see is her cold perfection.

“Pretty Maids All In A Row” by Christina Henry shows us an old woman. Her house is full of dolls that keep careful watch from all angles. There are spirits out there, and they want in. They wanted her husband dead, and eventually got their wish. But they also want her. Her son and his family think she’s a bit mad, talking about spirits being out to get her. But she knows better. Yes, yes she does.

Katherine Arden tells “The Viral Voyage of Bird Man”. A man, mysterious, strange, old, and possibly immortal, is cursed to tell his story. But the person listening to the narration has already heard it before. So, in part, this is the story of how that happened. Ah, 2023.

“The Angels of London” by Adam Nevill is another reprint. Another I’ve never heard of before. A man lives above what was once a pub. The rent’s cheap, but there’s no amenities to speak of. And when the landlord starts bugging him for more money, well. The protagonist has had enough. He may not be able to find another place, but he doesn’t have to put up with this…or so he thinks.

Helen Grant informs us that “A Curse is a Curse”. Two women live isolated from the nearest village. A stranger comes calling, and he asks questions about the nearby Wall. So we hear the tale of why the Wall was built, and question which version of the tale is true. But, in the end, does it matter?

The last reprinted story is “Dark Carousel” by Joe Hill. And it’s another good example of why stories should be reprinted. I certainly never heard this tale before, nor one quite like it. It sounds normal enough at first, eighteen year olds getting into trouble on a shady boardwalk carnival. Then, of course, things get dark and weird.

A.C. Wise talks about “Shoes as Red as Blood”. You know the story of the red shoes, where the girl can’t stop dancing. Only this girl knows full well what she’s getting into. And she has a goal, a reason for taking on this curse. I like a protagonist who fights back, even if my own feet ache just thinking about the damage being done to her.

Then it’s “Just Your Standard Haunted Doll Drama” by Kelley Armstrong. A curse weaver and her boyfriend want to buy her sister a birthday present. A cursed doll. Well, a creepy doll that the narrator will put a small joke curse on. For funsies. Her boyfriend, who is rather wealthy, has found a doll online that looks like it fits the bill. But the narrator gets a feeling, looking at the photo. This might just be the real deal. And if that’s the case, she probably needs to get rid of that curse.

A.K. Benedict’s story is “St Diabolo’s Travelling Music Hall”. It’s another one of those cheap little shows that goes to small towns to persuade coins from pockets. Like a circus, but with fewer grotesqueries and no midway. Also it seems the opera singer and escape artist are married, but it’s not the happiest. Not with him apparently controlling and hurting her. The Madame may need to step in, domestic dispute or not.

Finally we end on “The Music Box” by L.L. McKinney. A mother and daughter discuss whether or not their neighbor is creepy. But hey, she’s willing to pay fifty dollars for housesitting. Everything should be fine…right? Spoilers but, not in this book.

What can I say? Twice Cursed is a good horror anthology. It mostly stays close enough to the fantastical that I don’t have too many problems with it. Especially since the thing that pissed me off most wasn’t anything in an actual story but certain stories being reprinted far more often than necessary. Ignoring that kerfuffle, I’m quite pleased. And who knows, maybe one or more of these tales will come up again when I look into nominating stories for the Hugos next year.