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    Prime Meridian
    Prime Meridian
    Prime Meridian
    Ebook106 pages1 hour

    Prime Meridian

    By Silvia Moreno-Garcia

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    From the bestselling author of Mexican Gothic comes a novella about the price of dreams in a ravaged near-future.

    “A subtle and powerful tale of Mars, movies, and Mexico City which stands amongst the best novellas of the past few years.” —Jonathan Strahan, Locus

    Amelia dreams of Mars. The Mars of the movies and the imagination, an endless bastion of opportunities for a colonist with some guts. But she’s trapped in Mexico City, enduring the drudgery of an unkind metropolis, working as a rent-a-friend, selling her blood to old folks with money who hope to rejuvenate themselves with it, enacting a fractured love story. And yet there’s Mars, at the edge of the silver screen, of life.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
    Release dateJul 10, 2018
    ISBN9781927990223
    Prime Meridian
    Author

    Silvia Moreno-Garcia

    Silvia Moreno es la autora de las aclamadas novelas de ficción especulativa Gods of Jade and Shadow, Signal to Noise, Certain Dark Things y The Beautiful Ones, y  del  thriller  Untamed  Shore.  Ha  sido  editora  de  varias  antologías,  entre  ellas,  She  Walks  in  Shadows  (también  conocida como Cthulhu’s Daughters), ganadora del premio World Fantasy. Vive en Vancouver, Columbia Británica.

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    Reviews for Prime Meridian

    4/5

    66 ratings5 reviews

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    • 2/5
      Amelia works as a rent-a-friend, spending time with others in exchange for a little money in her pocket. All the while, she dreams of mars and a life different from her own. This was more of a short-story than a novel. I didn't get a real feel for the characters. The entire book felt bleak, making it feel as if it was going nowhere. Overall, not a book for me.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 4/5
      Silvia Moreno-Garcia does it again, showing her craft here in a literary novella.Amelia lives in Mexico City, crowded into a tiny apartment with her sister and her resentment. She makes ends meet as a friend-for-hire, dreaming of a future on Mars that seems ever further out of reach.This is arguably not SFnal at all in spite of its near-future setting and love affair with the Red Planet, but I’d urge any SF reader to pick it up. I enjoyed it for its tone of voice and the skill with which Moreno-Garcia captures her cast in the briefest of vignettes. It cements my desire to read all of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s work – this has nothing but its setting in common with Certain Dark Things, and I’m fascinated by the chameleon qualities of her work.I received a free copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest reviewFull review to follow
    • 4/5
      Well written, thematically sophisticated, frustrating as all hell to read. Moreno-Garcia's prose is a delight, and their characters are amazingly well developed. But the setting is seriously dystopic, and at this point in my life I'm really struggling with dystopias. Grinding poverty, the gig economy, and dreams of escape are woven together with multiple comparisons centring around our protagonist, Amelia - each of the people in Amelia's life show a stark contrast in one or more dimensions, which Moreno-Garcia uses to good effect.
    • 5/5
      When Moreno-Garcia writes about people, what they feel, what they do, and how they feel about what do, her writing is sublime. You feel as though you might bump into her characters around the next corner, even if their choices are not quite as noble as you hope you would make in their place. This novella catches Amelia at a time when she has lost her footing. Her dream of going to Mars is not necessarily a dream of something more comfortable -- we understand that Mars is still domes and food from tubes -- but of somewhere where her footing is firmer. While this is short -- it's a novella after all -- it doesn't feel abbreviated. It's a rich and rewarding story of a particular time and place.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 4/5
      Pros: interesting story, good character developmentCons: limited descriptionAmelia dreams of heading to Mars, but she can’t afford the flight and doesn’t want to be an indentured servant, so she continues to eek out an existence in Mexico City, making ends meet by doing occasional jobs as a paid friend.This is a novella funded by an IndieGoGo campaign, which I supported.Amelia isn’t the most likeable character, as evidenced by her limited Friendrr clientele, but she is an honest one. A string of bad luck left her somewhat bitter and depressed as her dreams become harder and harder to achieve. As the story progresses she both becomes a better friend and person in some ways while also making bad decisions that could land her in an even worse position. By the end of the story, seeing her deal with difficult circumstances, I really liked her.It is fairly short and while I’d have enjoyed more description the story works very well as is. It’s interesting hearing about life in Mexico City. The story doesn’t say what year this takes place, though given the dates that are mentioned it can’t be too far into the future. It’s a quick read if you’re looking for something a little different.

      1 person found this helpful

    Book preview

    Prime Meridian - Silvia Moreno-Garcia

    INTRODUCTION

    I think I first came across the work of Silvia Moreno-Garcia in the virtual pages of an online magazine called Futurismic. Her story, Maquech, caught me immediately, with that sense one gets of having made an important new discovery, as though the story itself were a jewel-encrusted beetle, like the one described within it. Already in that story, one could see the seeds of work to come. The milieu of Mexico City, for instance, written not as some faux-exotic Otherness for the consumption of North American armchair tourists, but as a place which is lived in, which is worn and comfortable and mundane, in which the science-fictional trappings evolve and adapt naturally.

    Since then, I’ve had the good fortune to reprint the story in my Apex Book of World SF 2 anthology and, in turn, appeared in one of Silvia’s own anthologies, Fungi. Most recently, what began as a joke on Twitter to come up with the stuffiest possible name for a literary magazine — we settled on The Jewish Mexican Literary Review — became a reality with two issues already published at the time of writing. And the legendary founder of that esteemed journal — one Nahum (Eduard) Landmann — makes, in turn, a cameo appearance in this story. Prime Meridian is an… excuse me… prime example of Silvia’s work. If Signal to Noise, her 2015 debut novel, is a paean to — or perhaps lament for — the pop music of an ’80s childhood in Mexico City, then Prime Meridian returns to another great love: the movies. The real Mars, one could say, is a construct of the imagination.

    Forget the lifeless planet that’s actually there. The real Mars is a place of yearning, the promise of escape, an Otherland that has caught the collective imagination for centuries. There is air here, Silvia writes. For this isn’t our Mars, but the movie planet of EXT. MARS SURFACE — DAY.

    But if Mars is a land of wish fulfillment and escape, the people who live in Silvia’s future Mexico are stranded much as we are, in the here and now of drudgery and work, relationships and the minuet of the everyday, having to make a living, barely getting time to dream.

    In this, Silvia echoes, not the majority of SF writers with their shiny futures and ragged heroes, but that most unlikely of novelists, the late Philip K. Dick, for whom the future was only ever inhabited by the little people, by people like us, and for whom Mars represented the same sort of escape. It is an escape from the mundane into the fantastical, but is escape possible? Is it even desirable?

    The novella, I’ve long felt, is the perfect form of story. Long enough to submerge us in its world, to make us care about its characters, yet just short enough to be stripped of the excess fat of novels, short enough to be focused and lean. In this deeply humanistic story of people living in a present/future at just a few angles different from ours, Silvia has crafted a quiet masterpiece.

    I feel privileged to have read it early and I’m envious that you get to read it now, for the first time. I loved it — and I’m sure you’ll feel the same.

    Lavie Tidhar, 2017

    1

    Why did I have to poison myself with love?

    — Aelita, or The Decline of Mars, Alexei Tolstoi

    Una ciudad deshecha, gris, monstruosa

    — Alta traición, José Emilio Pacheco

    The subway station was a dud. Both of its entrances had once again been commandeered by a street gang that morning, which meant you’d have to pay a small ‘fee’ in order to catch your train. Amelia was tempted to fork over the cash, but you never knew if these assholes were also going to help themselves to your purse, your cell phone, and whatever the hell else they wanted.

    That meant she had to choose between a shared ride and the bus. Amelia didn’t like either option. The bus was cheap. It would also take forever for it to reach Coyoacán. The car could also take a while, depending on how many people hailed it, but it would no doubt move faster.

    Amelia was supposed to meet Fernanda for lunch the next day and she needed to ensure she had enough money to pay for her meal. Fernanda was loaded, and odds were she’d cover it all, but Amelia didn’t want to risk it in case Fernanda wasn’t feeling generous.

    The most sensible thing to do, considering this, was to take the bus. Problem was, she had the booking and if she didn’t check in by five o’clock, she’d be penalized, a percentage of her earnings deducted. The damned app had a geolocator function. Amelia couldn’t lie and claim she’d reached the house on time.

    Amelia gave the gang members standing by the subway station’s entrance a long glare and took out her cell phone.

    Five minutes later, her ride arrived. She was glad to discover there was only one other person in the car. Last time she’d taken a shared ride, she sat together with four people, including a woman with a baby, the cries of the child deafening Amelia.

    Amelia boarded the car and gave the other passenger a polite nod. The man hardly returned it. He was wearing a gray suit and carried a briefcase, which he clutched with one hand while he held up his cell phone in the other. You heard all these stories about how the ride shares were dangerous — you could get into a car and be mugged, express kidnapped, or raped — but Amelia wasn’t going to pay for a damned secure taxi and this guy, at least, didn’t look like he was going to pull a gun on her. He was too busy yakking on the phone.

    They made good progress despite the usual insanity of Mexico City’s traffic. In Europe, there were automated cars roaming the cities, but here drivers still had a job. They couldn’t automate that, not with the chaotic fuckery of the roads.

    Mars is home to the tallest mountain in the solar system. Olympus Mons, 21 km high and 600 km in diameter, she told herself as the driver honked the horn. Sometimes, she repeated the Mandarin words she knew, but it was mostly facts about the Red Planet. To remind herself it was real, it existed, it was there.

    Once they approached the old square in Coyoacán, Amelia jumped out of the car. No point in staying inside; the vehicle moved at a snail’s pace. The cobblestone streets in this borough were never made to bear the multitudes that now walked through the once-small village.

    The square that marked the center of old Coyoacán was chock-full of street vendors frying churros and gorditas, or offering bags emblazoned with the face of Frida Kahlo and acrylic rebozos made in China. Folkloric bullshit.

    Amelia took a side street, where the traditional pulquerías had been substituted with fusion restaurants. Korean-Mexican. French-Mexican. Whatever-Mexican. Mexican-Mexican was never enough. A couple of more blocks and she reached Lucía’s home with five minutes to spare, thank-fucking-God.

    Lucía’s house was not an ordinary house, but a full-fledged casona, a historical marvel that looked like it was out of a movie, with wrought iron bars on the windows and an interior patio crammed with potted plants. The inside was much of the same: rustic tables and hand-painted talavera. It screamed Colonial, provincial, nostalgia and also fake. There was an artificial, too-calculated, too-overdone quality to each and every corner of the house, an unintended clue that the owner had

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