Catching up on short story commentary

I've fallen way off the pace on my "a short story per day" goal, but here's the latest batch, a bit of a mixed bag of sources and genres.

62. Going For A Beer by Robert Coover, from the March 14, 2011 issue of The New Yorker.  It reads like flash fiction -- if it's over 1,000 words it can't be by much since the story is one magazine page long -- and I'm afraid to say I just didn't get it. A whole life squeezed into one page, it seems to be a treatise on how fast life goes and how we don't really notice or remember most of what we do, but I couldn't figure out if all of this was really happening, or if it was the main character's fever dream after too much beer and a bad one night stand. And I found that, ultimately, I really didn't care what happened to the main character.

63. Silver Blaze by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, from The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. I've got a goal of reading all the Holmes stuff in the next year or so (minus the stories I read last year), so I'm picking up the next short story collection. Silver Blaze is a horse-racing related mystery. The titular horse goes missing two nights before a big race, and the trainer is killed. Holmes and Watson come to investigate. I was actually invested in this and was gratified that I figured out the "who" before Holmes revealed it, although I got there a little differently than he did.

64. Fang and Sting by Win Scott Eckert, from The Green Hornet Chronicles  Win Eckert crafts another bit of extended Wold-Newton universe fun, putting the Hornet in a difficult situation: an Asian mastermind is framing the Hornet for crimes he is committing, and claiming to be partnership with the Hornet. Britt Reid and Kato have to figure out who the mastermind is, where to find him, and how to stop the crimes and somewhat clear the Hornet's name. There's also a nice bit at the end that fills in what I suspect is a question that has long bothered Hornet fans. I'm not as well-versed on the Hornet's history as some are, but I appreciated the little nod.

65. Zorro's Rival  by Win Scott Eckert from More Tales of Zorro Likewise, I'm not as well-versed on the history of Zorro as some. (One of these days, I intend to read that collection of original Zorro stories by Johnston McCulley that's been sitting on my bookshelf for ages.)  Once again, Eckert puts together a really fun story about Zorro meeting El Halcon, who also seems to be working for the benefit of the downtrodden people Zorro usually helps. There are the usual Eckert Wold-Newton winks and nods; I'm sure I didn't pick up on all of them. Eckert captures all of the chivalrous derring-do we associate with Zorro thanks to the tv series.

66. If Only To Taste Her Again by E. Catherine Tobler, from Historical Lovecraft.  I was intrigued by the concept of the anthology: extending the themes and background of Lovecraft's Chthulu Mythos beyond early 20th century New England. I found out about the anthology through Tobler's LJ (greygirl ) so I read her story first. Set in Ancient Egypt, it hits all the right Lovecraftian notes: a hapless human who slowly becomes aware of the creeping oddness and insanity surrounding him, lots of sensory detail and that feeling that reality has shifted under the narrator's, and the reader's, feet. Returning from a diplomatic mission to a far-away land, the narrator knows that something is not right with the gifts he has brought back for Pharoah Hatshepsut but can't quite vocalize what is wrong. This might be one of my favorite "new Lovecraft" stories ever.



67. The Yellow Face by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, from The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.  Watson starts out this tight little story by noting that it describes one of the few times when Holmes' deduction about a case was wrong. A married man comes to Holmes for advice on the gap that has grown between him and his wife. The hints are all laid out in the man's story, to the point where I (who have never read this story before) called the conclusion ... and yet Holmes gets it wrong. Perhaps Doyle was trying to prove something about his character, but it seems odd to me that this relatively simple case is one of the few where Holmes is wrong ... he not only makes deductions based on what's he's told without investigating in person but  he also ignores his own oft-stated maxim about not jumping to conclusions before all the evidence is in. I have to say, while I liked the story's flow, I took no joy in outsmarting The Great Detective.

68. Jefferson's West by jaylake , from Boondocks Fantasy. For this anthology of "urban fantasy gone rural," Jay Lake goes not just rural but remote and historical. What if there was more to the Lewis and Clark expedition than just finding the west coast? What if at least one of the team leaders had a secret agenda? And what if President Jefferson had a premonitory dream about it?  Lots of what-ifs that could fill an entire novel. Lake gives us an intriguing story and strong character work in both Lewis and Clark. I won't spoil the twist, but I can say I didn't see it coming (despite well-laid hints) and was pleasantly surprised. I'd actually love to see Jay turn this into a novel (if he hasn't turned into a longer story already).

69. Things To Know About Being Dead by Genevieve Valentine from Teeth: Vampire Tales. Valentine gives us the tale of a young girl who dies in a car crash and comes back as a vampire, as per the traditional Asian myths about where vamps come from and how they behave. This is a side of vampire lore we don't see often -- the focus is usually on the European version.  The main character's voice is authentic, and her confusion and anguish really comes through ... as does the personality of her grandmother (despite having very little dialogue) and the other major character who appears. A quiet but really satisfying story for the lead-off spot in an ellen_datlow & Terri Windling anthology.

70. Herman Wouk Is Still Alive by Stephen King, from the May 2011 issue of The Atlantic.  Right after I read this story, I tweeted: "Devastating. Beautiful and Horrific."  And days later, I stand by that. You know from the get-go that this is a story about a car accident, and you're pretty positive you know how it's going to end. But the short journey to that place is emotional and beautifully rendered.  The story also has a bit of that old "road disaster tv movie of the week" feel -- we meet several characters whose lives will intersect at the fateful moment, but King puts his own emotional stamp on the trope. And, for those who say "I can't read King  because I'm not into supernatural stuff," this is one of his stories that has not even a hint of the ghosty-vampy stuff. It's just a good, solid, punch-to-the-gut story that I can't stop thinking about.

Horror Stories

A mixed bag of genre stuff this entry. I'm trying to weed out books I know I'm not going to read, to donate to the book drive that will be happening to support National Novel Writing Month. I can't let any anthologies go without at least reading a couple of stories in each. So:

From Cthulhu's Reign, edited by Darrell Schweitzer (the concept of the anthology is "what the world will be like after Cthulthu and the other Lovecraftian monsters return to Earth):

304. Such Bright and Risen Madness in our Names by Jay Lake. Lake takes the anthology's premise and narrows it down to the personal level: the narrator is one of an ever-dwindling group of "rebel" humans / near-humans striving to maintain some kind of resistance against Cthulhu and the humans/near-humans who serve "him." In Lake's interpretation, there seem to be very few baseline humans left: almost everyone has undergone some kind of physical change since the Olde Ones returned. The narrator ends up involved in a plan to wipe out the Lovecraftians, but if every other form of resistance has failed, what are the odds this one will succeed? And is our narrator willing to do what it takes? What works about this story is that it could just as easily be about a resistance cell in an over-run third world country -- if the dictators in the story were not actual monsters, the emotions and interplay of the three main people in this story would be just as heart-wrenching and their decisions would be just as difficult to try to understand. The best genre stories speak to the "real" world, and this ranks right up there.

305. The Seals of New R'Lyeh by Gregory Frost almost crosses genre -- it's a crime caper (let's see if they can steal the heavily-guarded Seals), it's a sort-of buddy flick (if the buddies don't actually like each other but work together anyway) and it's at least dark fantasy, if not outright horror (after all, the setting is The World After Cthulhu Returns). At least twice, I thought I knew where this story was going and found that it wasn't going there. Frost makes several neat turns in the story work with just a word or two; he never beats you over the head with clues to where things are headed, but the clues are there nonetheless in the way the story progresses. See if you can put it together before the end; I'll admit, I didn't but afterwards said "of course!"

And now four from the first Dark Delicacies anthology, edited by Del Howison and Jeff Gelb:

306. The Reincarnate by Ray Bradbury. Is there anything like a Ray Bradbury short story? This is one of those stories that is addressed directly to the reader-as-main-character: "After a while you will get over being afraid." This type of story is, I think, very hard to pull off even in the short form. So far, Bradbury and Norman Partridge seem to be the only authors that come to mind has having succeeded enough for me to not only remember the story, but to add it to my list of favorites. Bradbury's starts off a little rocky for me, but within a trio of paragraphs I was pulled right in and stayed in the story through the really satisfying ending.

307. Part of the Game by F. Paul Wilson. This is a tidy little "pulp / penny dreadful" type story. 1930s Chinatown setting, prejudiced white detective tries to horn in on the gambling and other illicit activities from which a mysterious figure called The Mandarin takes a cut. He tells the Mandarin's Emissary that he wants to "be a part of the game," or else he will bring the entire police department to bear and essentially shut Chinatown down. Famous last words, of course. What I really liked about this story is that Wilson does not attempt to make the detective, or the emissary, or the Mandarin himself, at all sympathetic. Occasionally, a story in which everyone is simply out for himself is exactly what the reader needs. This was one of those times for me. And it's not that the detective is a particularly flat character -- he has motivation and such -- it's just that he's thoroughly unlikeable. Great story, and I'm wondering if Wilson intended "The Mandarin" to be Fu Manchu.

308. Bloody Mary Morning by John Farris. I'm not a "gore horror" fan so much -- I'd much rather watch or read a psychological horror story than see the latest SAW movie. Farris' tale sort of walks the line between the two. There is a lot of blood here, and described in very cinematic terms, even though there are only three deaths. The blood permeates the entire story, and just when I thought it was getting to be a bit too much and perhaps a bit cliche ... Farris ends the story on a grace note that makes you realize why all the blood was necessary and what it was really all about. The psychological dramatic tension (will he get away with it, is the best I can summarize without giving anything away) walks you through a few cliches but not in any way that feels cliched.

309. A Gentleman of the Old School by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. I read this because it is a Count Saint-Germain story, and it's been years since I've read a Saint-Germain story. That being said ... it's not really a horror story. In fact, I'm not really sure what to call it. It's got murder mystery and serial killer elements in it, it's got the whole "will she learn his secret and what will happen if she does" element, and it's got that "intrepid reporter who might be getting in over her head" element. And they somehow work together, but there's nothing particularly horrific about the story, nor is there anything really in the way of a satisfactory exploration of the serial killer aspect. For fans of Saint-Germain, I think it's a great little character moment, but others might wonder just what the story is doing in this collection.

And finally three from Dark Delicacies II: Fear, also edited by Del Howison and Jeff Gelb:

310. Dog by Joe R. Lansdale. I normally try not to boil stories down to comparisons with other authors, but this story made me immediately think of two Stephen King works: CUJO (for perhaps the obvious reason), and "The Gingerbread Girl" (for reasons that hopefully will become apparent when you read the story). Which is not to say that Lansdale spends the story channeling King -- this is definitely a Lansdale story beginning to end. The tension just keeps ratcheting up through the story. I literally was sweating along with the main character, feeling chased and harried. And left the story with an unsettling feeling that this is the kind of thing that happens to you once, and you can't explain what it was all about but you hope you've done your time and it won't come around to bite you again. Which is meant as a great compliment.

311. First Born by John Farris. This Farris story didn't work quite as well for me as the one above, but it still had its nice twists. The main character is a famous actor who finds that he doesn't remember a promise he made 20 years ago to the man who started his career -- or at least that's what the odd voice on the other side of the phone claims. The caller wants the actor to turn over his first born child -- I'm not giving anything away here because the title pretty much leads you to that already. Farris works in a twist about halfway through that allows the story to resolve in a little bit of a different way than is typical. I think the details he leaves out (allowing the reader to piece things together) are more interesting than the details he leaves in.

312. The Ammonite Violin (Murder Ballad No. 4) by Caitlyn R. Kiernan. I know this is part of a longer book. I read it and decided that I really want to read that longer work now. Kiernan gives us a view through a serial killer's eyes -- a killer who has two passions, killing and collecting ammonite shells. He has a violin constructed using some of those shells and we spend most of the story wondering what his purpose is. It becomes very clear at the end. Kiernan does a great job of building that tension and wording things in such a way that even up to the end you're wondering exactly how the story is going to play out. Very well done.

4 Story reviews

A mixed bag of genres, before I start my usual "Month of Horror" reading:


287. The Fall of the Moon by Jay Lake, from the October 2010 issue of Realms of Fantasy. In a world that seems to be in the future of our own (based on the use of certain words and the way characters refer to what used to be), a young man realizes that the insular, despondent life of his family's village is not all there is -- and that taking a risk (even if it is a risk prophecied by a book he finds under a bed) to see what's beyond the horizon is better than staying miserable. Jay Lake's short tale of Hassan and the boat he builds is rife with great details that reveal a world turned extremely dangerous (ocean tides bring in a flood of rodents, but also a flood of predators), but Hassan himself is what propels the story to its open end. Well done.

288. Twins by C.E. Morgan, from the June 14/21, 2010 issue of The New Yorker. This is one of those stories that I really can't figure out what to say about. I didn't hate it, I didn't dislike it even, but I also can't say I liked it. It's the story of very young twin brothers, one light-skinned and one dark, the progeny of mixed parents. It's told with a focus on the darker, less daring, brother and his interactions with more his more daring twin, their smothering single mother, and their distant father. It's full of physical detail that evokes the industrial area of Cincinnati, an area I've passed through and could picture. But I didn't click with the characters or the point of the story.

289. Torhec The Sculptor by Tanith Lee, from the October/November, 2010 issue of Asimov's Science Fiction. I'm going to sound like a broken record if someone goes back and rereads all of my Tanith Lee reviews in succession, but I love how she creates alternate Earths that are just a tweak or two away from our own. Is this story far in our future or in an alternate dimension? I don't know, and I'm not sure it really matters. The story is really about the ephemeral nature of art and the ever-lasting nature of man's pride and his doubt. The title character is an artist who creates, and then destroys. He does not sell collectors. Until the "multinaire" Von Glanz names a price high enough. Torhec and Von Glanz are opposite sides of "playing God," one destroying and one preserving. Or are they really all that different? Great story.

290. Death and the Countess by Win Scott Eckert, from The Avenger Chronicles. Another fun foray into the Wold-Newton Crossover Universe by Eckert, this one centering on Richard Benson, the gray-faced Avenger of the pulp magazines, and his team Justice Inc. They are drawn into a conspiracy in which a mysterious Countess is demonstrating a deadly new weapon to be auctioned off to the highest bidder -- and every major nation on the Allied and Axis sides of the soon-to-be World War Two want to get their hands on it. I won't spoil the fun of figuring out just how many other pulp (and other) literary figures Win manages to reference, since that's half the point of the story. A fun, easy read.