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| 1419143956
| 9781419143953
| 1419143956
| 3.90
| 7,548
| Dec 1844
| Jun 17, 2004
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it was amazing
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Normally, I read short stories as part of collections, so don't typically review them separately. This one is part of Hawthorne's 1844 collection Moss
Normally, I read short stories as part of collections, so don't typically review them separately. This one is part of Hawthorne's 1844 collection Mosses from an Old Manse, which was a favorite book of my teens, and the story was one of my favorites in the book; but my review of the collection says little more than that about it, except to classify it as science fiction and to recommend the 1980 American Short Story series adaptation starring Kristoffer Tabori (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081403/) as faithful to the original. It basically is, though there a few differences; but though I've seen the film several times and like it, watching it for the most recent time this past summer with one of my older grandsons and discussing it with him afterwards gave me a desire to reread the original and dig into its meaning more deeply. That was rewarding (I hadn't read the story itself for over 50 years, probably well over!); and since this was a new and focused read of the single story itself, I felt that it deserves a focused review of its own. With that new perspective, it has to be said that this is actually a very difficult story to adapt in film format; there's a degree of ambiguity in the tale itself, but it's much more ambiguous without Hawthorne's many narrative comments and revelations of the viewpoint character's thoughts, which of course don't come through in a dramatized form. Even more than most short fiction, it's also very difficult to review without resorting to plot spoilers, though I'll attempt it. Before my reread, I'd also totally forgotten that Hawthorne, in a short prologue to this tale, presents it (tongue-in-cheek, of course!) as his translation of a story by an imaginary French writer, "M. de l'Aubepine." Hawthorne's comments about this fictional personage's work(s) make it clear that l'Aubepine is really a surrogate for himself, so that he's providing clues there about his approach to fiction in general, and to this story in particular. Our setting is the real-life city of Padua in northern Italy, "very long ago." (The filmmakers took that to mean the early 1700s; when I read the book as a teen, I pictured the Renaissance era for this story.) We see events through the eyes of Giovanni, a young student from southern Italy who's come to attend the city's famous university. As the story proper opens, he takes a room that overlooks the private garden of the aged physician and botanical researcher (pre-modern medicine relied on plant-based pharmacopia), Dr. Rappaccini. Giovanni will soon learn that the doctor's researches and gardening activities revolve exclusively around very poisonous plants --most of which he's unnaturally cross-bred or grafted with each other to render them more toxic; and will also learn that the plants which are too dangerous for the doctor himself to handle or approach are given over to the care of his beautiful daughter Beatrice. She has no problem with them; but Giovanni sees evidence that her own touch or breath can kill living things. That doesn't stop him from developing an obsessive crush on her. Hawthorne typically has conscious messages in his fiction, and though they may be complex and ambiguous, he wants them understood. But that understanding may be attained more through feelings than through the intellect. M. l'Aubepine, we're told, has an "inveterate love of allegory," and the trappings of real life in his tales tend to be just a veneer for a concern that really lies elsewhere than with the mundane. So the fact that the presentation of Beatrice's acquired attributes in the story is illogical, even within the internal logic of the story (though explaining how would involve spoilers) needn't concern us; Hawthorne is more interested in setting up a situation than in explaining how it could work. He's a Romantic, not a Realist, writer; and one of his messages here is very characteristic of Romantic SF: that the unnatural pursuit of forbidden knowledge is dangerous and destructive. As a Christian writer, he's also warning that humans can't usurp the place of God; the explicit references to Eden are instructive. (Like God, Rappaccini has made a garden; but it's not going to be paradisical.) The story also has something to say about the difference between love and selfish infatuation, about judging others, about the fact that love trusts, and about whether science can be trusted to clean up the messes caused by its own misuse. After this reread, I feel like I have much more of a handle on what Hawthorne was seeking to do with this story, and can appreciate it even more! It still has unplumbed depths (for instance, I think there's a connection to Dante through Beatrice's name, but not having read Dante's poetry, I can't comment on that aspect); but I'm very glad to have interacted with the tale more deeply. ...more |
Notes are private!
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not set
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Dec 04, 2024
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Dec 06, 2024
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Paperback
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| B09C3TM7C1
| 4.00
| 9
| 1932
| Jan 01, 1932
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really liked it
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Though he also wrote a good deal of historical fiction, Henry Christopher Bailey (1878-1961) was one of the more popular British writers of mysteries
Though he also wrote a good deal of historical fiction, Henry Christopher Bailey (1878-1961) was one of the more popular British writers of mysteries in the genre's "Golden Age" between the World Wars, and even afterwards. (He retired from writing in 1950.) Since his death, he's been largely --and unjustly, IMO-- forgotten by genre fans. (One Goodreads reviewer attributed this eclipse in popularity, at least in part, to unspecified issues with his literary estate, which hindered reprinting of his work; but I don't know much about that.) His most popular series sleuth was Reginald "Reggie" Fortune, who appears in a number of short stories (published, during Bailey's lifetime, in a dozen partial collections, of which this is one), beginning in 1920, as well as nine novels. This is the only one of the author's books I've read, and until very recently his name wasn't on my radar. It turns out, however, that I read at least the lead story here, "The Greek Play," as a tween kid. I say "at least," because I'm not sure if I read the entire book, for which I'd forgotten author/title information. Late last year, I tracked it down with the aid of the helpful Goodreads group What's the Name of that Book???, but the process took years because my only memories of it were of that first story, and I misremembered that as a novel. On the reread, I found that I could remember a number of lines of dialogue from that selection, but nothing of any of the others. That leads me to suspect that I quit reading on my original read after the first story. If that's the case, it would have been because Bailey's prose style proved too confusing and off-putting for my pre-teen self. It's very English, with a lot of period British slang, a considerable amount of very dry and cynical humor that would have been over my head at the time, and a seasoning of extreme tongue-in-cheek statements in dialogue that aren't intended to be taken literally. Fortunately, in the intervening 60 or so years, my ability to understand this kind of thing has vastly improved. :-) This book provides eight stories, mostly about 40 pages long, and which I'd guess are probably fairly representative of the Fortune corpus. A very round and well-realized character, Reggie's a medically-qualified surgeon (he's addressed as Mr. rather than Dr. in keeping with traditional British usage; originally, surgeons in England did not generally have M.D degrees). In the earliest stories, he filled in some in his father's medical practice; but by the time the stories here were written, his income is mainly from consulting for Scotland Yard on criminal cases, and he's acquired quite a reputation in that field, due to being very observant and thorough, scrupulously logical-minded, and very good at reading people. Crime fighting wasn't his choice for a specialization (his first love is medical research); but he's good at it, and has a deep sympathy for the victimized and downtrodden and a principled desire to see justice done. Like Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey, to whom he's been compared (though he's much less athletic, and part of the monied commoner gentry rather than the aristocracy), he's also well-read, has some knowledge of a wide variety of subjects, an interest in mental challenges, and an appreciation for creature comforts. (Both men are also refreshingly free of class snobbery, and not very sympathetic to snobs.) He also came across to me as sort of a fictional version of Dr. Joseph Bell, one of Arthur Conan Doyle's real-life medical professors, who often assisted the police, and served as a model for Sherlock Holmes. Of the eight stories here, six involve murders or attempted murder. All of the mysteries are challenging and tightly constructed, with a good deal of imaginative variety. Most of them feature the fictional head of Scotland Yard's Criminal Investigation division, Sidney Lomas, and his right-hand man, Detective Superintendent Bell, who serve as foils for the protagonist; two stories also let us get to know Reggie's much-loved wife Joan, and another features his (also smart) sister, who's married to a pompous Anglican bishop. These continuing characters were undoubtedly introduced in earlier collections; all of them, and the various characters unique to each story, are drawn as vividly as the short format allows. (Unlike some male writers of his day, Bailey doesn't depict his female characters as ineffectual morons; several are intelligent, capable women who play real roles in the stories.) England is the setting for seven of the stories. To consider some of the individual stories, "The Mountain Meadow" is the one story set in rural France, where the Fortunes are vacationing (but crime doesn't necessarily take vacations). "The Sported Oak" is set in the milieu of British higher education, at fictional "Oxbridge Univ." (its rival school is "Camford Univ;" anyone familiar with England's academia will recognize the real-life analogues :-) ). Reggie's love for animals is on particular display in "The Little Dog," in which the title four-legged character will be instrumental in unmasking a culprit. My only criticisms of "The Walrus Ivory" are that I don't think a visual examination would allow one to distinguish walrus ivory from, say, elephant ivory; and having actually seen persons of Slavic ethnicity in real life and on TV, I'm pretty sure that they can't be distinguished from Anglo-Saxons by their facial features. (One villainess in that story also uses the n-word in a conversation, but Reggie doesn't.) But those are minor quibbles. I didn't really have a favorite story as such; they were all really well done, and a pleasure to read. It's a pity the old PBS Mystery! series never adapted any of these (or any other) of the Fortune stories, an omission possibly related to the above-mentioned problems with Bailey's literary estate. Even now, if any TV or movie producers would produce a quality adaptation, I'd definitely watch it if I had a chance to! And while I don't plan to follow the series at this time, if I found a good second-hand copy of any of the other Fortune books, I'd snap it up. ...more |
Notes are private!
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Dec 28, 2024
not set
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Jan 11, 2025
not set
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Oct 30, 2024
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Hardcover
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| 9798852106810
| B0CDYWLH66
| 4.00
| 1
| unknown
| Aug 08, 2023
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really liked it
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This collection is another rewarding read from prolific independent author Andrew M. Seddon, whom I've had the honor of counting as a friend for some
This collection is another rewarding read from prolific independent author Andrew M. Seddon, whom I've had the honor of counting as a friend for some 20 years. It's actually a sort of sequel to his Bonds of Affection: Short Stories and Memories of German Shepherds (2019), and like the earlier collection contains both short stories and nonfiction "memories" of German Shepherd dogs who have been part of his and/or his veterinarian wife, Olivia's lives. (He had written too much material to include in the original book, and had notes for other stories he wanted to write as well; hence this companion volume.) The general comments in my review of the first book would apply to this one as well. Again, the fictional selections include both descriptive and speculative works (in at least one case, the dividing line is ambiguous, and it's sometimes uncertain whether the speculative element in those stories that have one is supernatural or science fictional). All profits from the sale of this collection, as with the first one, "go to benefit German Shepherd rescues and K9 support organizations." In all, there are 13 short stories here, of which seven were previously published in literary magazines or earlier collections of Andrew's tales. All of the latter were revised for publication here, however; and although I've beta read several stories here years ago (and Andrew kindly mentioned me in his acknowledgments for that, though my role was slight!) I read the entire collection on this go-around so that my reactions would be as fresh as possible. The German Shepherds who figure in the stories appear in various roles, including search-and-rescue dogs, as in the title story, "Ranger's First Call;" seeing-eye guides for the blind, as in the most thought-provoking story here, "The Sun on the Liffey;" as nonconsensual experimental subjects, for instance in "Experimental Subjects" (featuring Andrew's space-faring vet character, Doc Hughes); or just plain companions to their humans. Some of them play major roles in the plots of their stories, others are just supporting characters. ("The Darkness at the Edge of the World" features story-cycle characters Howard Sheffield and his dog Baltasar, but those stories have yet to be published together in their own book.) Story settings vary, from the historical fiction of "The Easter Shepherd," unfolding in the hellish milieu of World War I trench warfare, to contemporary locales as widely separated as Oregon and Ukraine, all the way to outer space in the far future. But they all have in common Andrew's skillful story-telling, thoughtful craftsmanship, and strongly moral literary vision; and they all exude his affection for dogs in general and German shepherds in particular. That affection, as well as understanding and concern, comes across as well in the four memories sections, which pay tribute primarily to six dogs not mentioned in the first book, some of whom had happy lives and some of whom did not. But even in the case of the first group, the memories may ultimately have a poignant and bittersweet quality, because sadly our canine companions' natural life spans aren't as long as ours. There are also two short poems, one by Andrew and one by his sister Judith, which are both moving elegies to canine friends that have passed away. The short Preface was nominally written by Andrew's German Shepherd Rex (who has since also passed --this was published in 2022), though I have reason to suspect he had some help from his human. :-) It encourages adoption of shelter dogs who need loving homes. Andrew's four-page Introduction is also well worth reading, for a simple and straightforward testimony to the unique qualities of dogs (who are, as he explains, neither things to be used nor four-legged, furry humans, but special and distinct creatures in their own right), and to the rewarding friendship that they can bring into the lives of human individuals and families if we open our hearts to them. This book will particularly appeal to all readers who have a special affection for dogs and who also like tasteful, well-written short fiction; but you can greatly appreciate it even if you aren't in that first group. But even folks who aren't ardent dog enthusiasts may come away from these pages with a new understanding and appreciation for these friendly and intelligent creatures! Note: My copy of the book was a kind gift from the author, but he didn't solicit a review; I read it because I wanted to, and am glad to share my honest opinion! ...more |
Notes are private!
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Mar 05, 2024
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Mar 12, 2024
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Feb 07, 2024
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Paperback
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| B08L2JYZB5
| 3.92
| 192
| Oct 10, 2020
| Oct 10, 2020
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it was ok
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This novella is another freebie for Kindle which I finished reading earlier this month, but haven't had time to review until now. It's also one I orig
This novella is another freebie for Kindle which I finished reading earlier this month, but haven't had time to review until now. It's also one I originally downloaded under the influence of a five-star review from a Goodreads friend, but wound up being much less taken with than he was. Chronologically, our setting is sometime in the later 19th century (it's no earlier than 1861, when what is today Nigeria became a British crown colony, but we're never told how much later it is, except that we're still in the "Victorian" era). Our story proper begins in London, but very swiftly shifts to Lagos in colonial Nigeria. Young (she's under 21, because she still has guardians; I don't recall if her age is stated, but I'd guess it to be 19-20) orphaned protagonist Beatrice is a psychically-gifted investigator for the sub rosa Society for Paranormals and Curious Animals, directed by a werewolf. Whether Beatrice's last name is Knight or Anderson is a point of confusion through most of the book; that point is cleared up near the end, but it fosters (or indicates, on the author's part!) more confusion. (view spoiler)[Knight will apparently be her married name in future books; but in that case, she should be a Mrs., not a Miss (hide spoiler)]. The first sentence tells us that this adventure will pit her against "a giant Praying [sic] Mantis" (or, more accurately, an African pagan demi-goddess who usually appears in preying mantis form). Her boss, Prof. Runal, has gotten wind that brownies (of the Wee Folk, not the baked, sort) are being kidnapped and smuggled internationally by a trafficking ring based in Lagos. How he's gotten wind of this is never explained (although, obviously, knowing that would be important for an investigator going into the situation!), nor is it ever explained why anybody would want to smuggle brownies in the first place, and in particular why a shape-shifting demi-goddess would be involved in it. The whole concept just functions as a McGuffin. Prof. Runal has enough clout with the British government to arrange for the Lagos police to cooperate with Bee; but if keeping the paranormal world secret from the uninitiated is an issue, it's dubious how smart that move would be, and it's unclear how useful the civil police could be in an investigation of this sort, anyway. In fact, she doesn't need to investigate; her identity is known to her adversaries when she steps off the boat (which suggests that a mole is compromising the mission, but that idea is never developed), and the culprits either come to her or information is dropped into her lap by third parties. Of course, in fairness, a tale with this kind of premise isn't going for intense realism; but even tales with wildly speculative premises can play out with a greater degree of internal plausibility than this does. And details that may be dubiously realistic can be forgiven if a story features a strong, psychologically realistic character study that appeals to the reader, or a plot that engages one on an emotional level. For me, this did neither. Bee's first-person narrative voice is written as trying to be wry and droll for its own sake, rather than coming across with the kind of feelings an actual young woman in her situation would experience. She's a rather irritating Mary Sue type with a streak of misandry, while Inspector Jones serves only to incarnate patronizing male chauvinism. Author Ehsani is obviously going mostly for humor (achieved primarily through Bea's one-liners, and cracks about werewolf body odor); but the humorous effect is largely undercut at the climax by the graphic violence and large-scale slaughter affected by the mantis-goddess Koki. :-( (And I personally find even normal-sized preying mantises to be really disgusting and repulsive!) Vered Ehsani was born in South Africa, but is a long-time resident of Kenya. (The subsequent novels of the series are set in the latter country, though I don't plan to follow them.) To give credit where it's due, as an African native, she does a good job of incorporating African folklore (which North American and European readers typically don't encounter often, and don't know much about) into her narrative. ...more |
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Sep 2024
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Oct 03, 2024
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Jan 30, 2024
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Kindle Edition
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| 9798876787019
| B0CSWMT96C
| 5.00
| 2
| unknown
| Jan 20, 2024
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it was amazing
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Because I contributed a story to this newly-published anthology of 21 fiction selections by 14 authors, I received a contributor's copy. (My review an
Because I contributed a story to this newly-published anthology of 21 fiction selections by 14 authors, I received a contributor's copy. (My review and rating refer only to the work of the other 12 writers!) Andrew M. Seddon, the editor of this collection (he also contributed seven of the stories) and I have been Internet friends since before Goodreads existed. He's a long-standing animal lover, especially of German Shepherd dogs, but his canine affections extend to their wild cousins, the wolves, whom he feels are the victims of long centuries of misunderstanding, misrepresentation and mistreatment from humans. A few years ago, knowing that I share this feeling, he confided the idea of an anthology of wolf-friendly fiction to me and to a few other writer friends, and I was happy to be included in the project. Now, it's come to fruition at last in the present work! Historically, wolves sadly haven't enjoyed a good press in English-language literature. Finding wolf-friendly works proved to be something of a challenge, which is why five of the stories here by Andrew (and possibly some by other contributors as well) were written specifically for this collection. (His two others here had been published previously in other collections, and I'd actually beta read both of them years ago; but I reread them here.) That consideration also influenced the inclusion of some werewolf/shapeshifter stories. However, he nevertheless was able to assemble a quality collection, with contributions mostly from living authors, but including tales by Saki (who's represented twice), Jack London, and Algernon Blackwood. Besides Andrew himself, the best-known of the contemporary authors here is Karina Fabian, who (both as a writer and as an editor) has a following among science fiction fans; at the other end of that spectrum, Idunn Frostfall is a teen writer whose excellent story "Plagues and Wolves" is her first publication. Most of the writers represented are American or British; a couple are Canadian, and Deryn Pittar hails from New Zealand. At least three of them are Christians, and at least two of those (Seddon and Fabian) are Roman Catholic; but the selections themselves are mostly not explicitly religious in character. Each author has a short bio-bibliographic description in alphabetical order at the back of the book. Each of the selections has a short introductory paragraph; in the case of the living authors, it consists of their explanations of the inspiration behind the story. In terms of genre, there's a good bit of variety; some are general fiction and others are historical fiction, while SF and fantasy are also represented. Only one selection is a novel excerpt, from Robin Lamont's The Trap (in keeping with my usual practice, I didn't read that one, but I added the book to my to-read shelf!). The title character of London's "Brown Wolf," which has thematic affinities to his novels The Call of the Wild and White Fang), is actually a cross between a wolf and a husky (the two types of canine can interbreed, as real-life cases demonstrate). Andrew's "Wolfsheart," set in Viking times, is perhaps my favorite story here (possibly because of my own Scandinavian heritage), although it's hard to pick. But his "The Beast-Fighter's Tale" and Godfrey Blackwell's "Ancient Partners" (which finds far-future Earth wolves introduced into the ecology of a human-colonized planet far from Earth) are also standouts. Fabian is represented by a story from her Rescue Sisters series, "A Wolf of Mars." It's impossible to comment on all of the selections; but of the 19 I read (I didn't reread my own), there wasn't a clunker in the bunch, which is unusual for an anthology! Emotional impact, great writing, strong characterization (of two-legged and four-legged characters alike) and effective, imaginative storytelling is the order of the day in all of them. As an added feature, Andrew introduces the book with a short (a bit over ten pages) but informative and well researched "Brief History of Wolf-Human Relations." It also features a bibliography of almost two dozen recommended books, mostly nonfiction, about wolves (I would personally add Farley Mowat's Never Cry Wolf: The Amazing True Story of Life Among Arctic Wolves to that list.) All profits from the sale of this collection go to reputable wolf conservation organizations and sanctuaries, a list of which is appended. ...more |
Notes are private!
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Feb 08, 2024
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Feb 19, 2024
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Jan 29, 2024
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Paperback
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| 1782275959
| 9781782275954
| 1782275959
| 3.50
| 211
| Oct 31, 2019
| Aug 31, 2021
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really liked it
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Physically, this 2019 anthology from Pushkin Press is a slight one (it has 220 pages, but they're small pages), with just nine short stories. But they
Physically, this 2019 anthology from Pushkin Press is a slight one (it has 220 pages, but they're small pages), with just nine short stories. But they're well-chosen stories, making for a good, quick reading experience (I finished it in just four days, though my quick completion was speeded by the fact that I'd already read four of the stories). Editor and Goodreads author Laird Hunt was previously unknown to me, but he's identified here as the author of seven novels (and judging from his Goodreads profile, has possibly written more by now). His five and 1/2 page Introduction (better read, as I did, as an afterword) starts with a reference to a paranormal experience he had one night around midnight, as a six or seven-year-old child, while sleeping at his grandmother's Indiana farm. He implies that this may have given him a lifelong fascination with the "dark" or spooky, and makes comments on the chosen stories relating them to that experience/theme. But he suggests that "scary stories" have a fascination for us all. A scare factor, or at least a sense of the darkly unsettling. is the intended common element here, though it may arise from either supernatural or natural causes. All nine of the authors represented here, as the collection title suggests, were American. The stories aren't dated, but the only one of the writers born in the 20th century was Shirley Jackson (d. 1965); the rest preceded her. So these are all older stories, dating from the 19th or early 20th centuries. Most of the authors are well known, in American letters generally or at least in the weird fiction field; Hunt doesn't supply any information about them, but it's generally not needed. Although Hunt found Mark Twain's "A Ghost Story" scary, it's ultimately humorous (although it's the only one here that is). That story was one of those I'd read previously, the other three being Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death" (which perhaps gains an added frisson in the shadow of the recent pandemic!), Hawthorn's "Young Goodman Brown,' and "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. I've commented on all of these in reviews of other collections. None of the other tales are as well known, though most of the authors are. Edith Wharton is represented by "The Eyes;" that one is hard to discuss without a spoiler, except to say that it shows the influence of Henry James in the way that a character intuits things. "Spunk" by Zora Neale Hurston is set in a rural black community in the South and reflects the author's interest in realistically portraying the lifeways and sociology of that culture, not in relation to whites but as an independent entity created by black people. (Of course, not everything is necessarily harmonious in that world, and it may at times play host to supernatural realities they don't teach about in university anthropology classes....) Jackson's "Home" shows her aptitude at both the traditional ghost story and at deft characterization. Though I'd of course heard of Robert W. Chambers, "The Mask" was my first introduction to his work. All I'll say about it is that it's greatly whetted my eagerness to read The King in Yellow and Other Horrors: The Best Weird Fiction & Ghost Stories of Robert W. Chambers (which was on my to-read shelf already)! Emma Frances Dawson (1839-1926) was the only writer here I'd never heard of before. Her "An Itinerant House," like most of her fiction, is set in San Francisco, where she lived most of her life (she was a protege' of Ambrose Bierce). That story made me aware that in late 19th-century San Francisco, physical moving of buildings from one location to another was apparently actually a not particularly uncommon thing. (But if a given building has a Romany curse attached to it, moving it may not be a good idea.) All in all, this is a solid collection with uniformly good stories (some of them great stories). Most short story fans, especially those who like fiction on the macabre side, would probably like it. ...more |
Notes are private!
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not set
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Apr 27, 2024
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Dec 20, 2023
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| 0375837892
| 9780375837890
| 0375837892
| 4.24
| 17,373
| 1956
| Oct 10, 2006
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it was amazing
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Note: Although this review is attached to a short e-book that contains three stories by the author, my review is only of the title story, which is les
Note: Although this review is attached to a short e-book that contains three stories by the author, my review is only of the title story, which is less than ten pages long. I don't normally review single short stories by themselves, since I usually read in this format a whole collection at a time, and review on that level. But in this case, I read this story by itself (and actually not from this e-book, but from the paper-format literature textbook Literature: Structure, Sound and Sense, which I'm not interested in reading in its entirety at this time). My interest was in the seasonal significance of this particular story. Being a librarian, I of course know Capote by reputation, as a significant figure in 20th-century American letters; but this tale is my first actual reading of his work, and I couldn't have had a better introduction! It's an absolutely beautiful story, simple but profound, bittersweet, poignant and evocative, filled with an unpretentious wisdom, deeply steeped in a particular time and place, but in a very real way timeless. As with so many wonderful works of literature, my only regret is that I didn't read it much sooner. First-person narrator "Buddy" (a nickname) relates the story in present tense. Mainly, it consists of his memories of a Christmas season "more than twenty years ago," when he was a seven-year- old kid being raised by relatives in Depression-stricken Alabama. Published in 1956, that pushes the latest date for this main section back to 1935 (a few concluding paragraphs are set later), and internal clues establish a date no earlier than 1934; so the setting is the mid-30s. Buddy's memories are very much bound up with his best "friend," a distant cousin in her late 60s, but who's mentally challenged and hence "still a child" herself. Most readers acquainted with Capote's own life are aware of similarities. Like Buddy, he was raised by relatives in a little Alabama town from when he was four until he was nine or ten; and Buddy's cousin and friend here is clearly based on Capote's distant cousin Miss Sook Faulk (d. 1938). This leads many readers to conclude that Buddy IS Capote, that his friend IS Miss Sook, and that this is a nonfiction memoir. However, the details of the chronology don't fit that theory; Capote, for instance, turned seven in 1928, and moved to New York City to live with his mother in 1932. He begins this tale by inviting the reader to, "Imagine a morning in late November;" and we're on solidest ground if we conclude that the author is also imagining a story that doesn't correspond exactly to historical reality, with two main characters who are based on himself and Miss Sook, but who aren't literally them. Nevertheless, we can also definitely see a strong autobiographical note; much of the detail and texture here rings so true because it's actually based on a real-life relationship and real-life memories. This is much more of a character-driven than a plot-driven work; and indeed it's more of a descriptive vignette of a loving and mutually joyous friendship between two kindred spirits (who happen to be separated in age by about six decades) and of a Christmas season marked by caring for others, rather than a conventionally plotted story with a definite conflict. In that time and place, Christmas is a simple season, marked by simple pleasures with little recourse to, or need for, store-bought goods. These people obviously have very little money, by our standards (though the purchasing power of Depression-era money was considerably greater than ours --today, you couldn't begin to buy ingredients for about 30 fruitcakes with under $13.00!). Buddy and his friend glean wind-fallen pecans for the fruitcakes in a neighbor's grove; their gifts for each other are homemade, as are the decorations for the household's Christmas tree, cut in the nearby woods. Capote's prose-style is descriptive, detail laden, and sensory-rich. Beyond that, I won't try to describe the story; it's much more meaningful to experience it yourself than to read a summary. It's rare for me to run across a literary work that I would recommend to every living reader. This is one of them. IMO, it's a landmark of, not just American, but of 20th-century world literature. ...more |
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Dec 19, 2024
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Dec 19, 2024
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Dec 06, 2023
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| Mar 26, 2022
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really liked it
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Joe Vasicek is an independent author of speculative fiction, whose work I originally stumbled on back in 2020 through one of my Goodreads friends. Sin
Joe Vasicek is an independent author of speculative fiction, whose work I originally stumbled on back in 2020 through one of my Goodreads friends. Since then, I've read a couple of his other short stories (like this one, as freebies). A devout Mormon, his faith, as he notes in the Foreword here, informs all of his life including his writing; but in the SF he writes under his real name, he eschews explicit religious references. When he wants to incorporate the latter, as he does here, he writes under the pen name of J. M. Wight. This short e-story, which I ran across earlier this year, was my first introduction to his work in that incarnation, and to his series character Zedekiah Wight. (The identical last names suggest to me that the character might be something of an imagined "ideal self" for the author.) "Bloody Justice" is undoubtedly a teaser for the rest of the Zedekiah Wight corpus. Zedekiah Wight is a fanatically religious vigilante with lethal combat skills, a penchant for quoting Scripture (his favorite book is Isaiah), and a particular zeal for stamping out sex trafficking and slaughtering sex traffickers, for which he sees himself as an instrument in God's hand. His character has some similarities to Robert E. Howard's Solomon Kane (who's my favorite REH hero). But whereas Solomon is a Puritan scion of Elizabethan England, Zed lives in a far future in which the Earth has long since become uninhabitable, and humanity has spread across the stars. Since fallen human nature remains unchanged, this gives sex traffickers a much vaster scale on which to operate. Then as well as now, their "sordid business" remains illegal. But as captain of the well-armed spaceship Voidbringer, Zed and his loyal crew aren't interested in making citizen's arrests. Nominally, their primary mission is to rescue captives. But Zed takes a bloody-minded delight in inflicting lethal divine vengeance. When, early in this story, the Voidbringer intercepts what they know to be a slave ship, it becomes possible that the latter agenda might in this case preclude the former ...so the question is, which agenda trumps the other? Our primary viewpoint character here is Eve, a super-intelligent A.I. whose holographic avatar (which "she" has internalized as a self-image) is a beautiful human woman in her 20s. She's a key part of Zed's crew, though here we're not told how she joined it; there are hints that her presence may not be wholly legal, especially since Zed's freed her from her "AI safeguards." Be that as it may, she's very committed to the partnership; she finds Zed quite interesting to work for, though even with the "emotional assessment algorithm" she's created for her own reading of his moods and character, she's not able to read him perfectly. (Since we see him through her eyes, that's an excellent narrative strategy on the author's part, preserving his protagonist's enigmatic quality.) Eve's actually a very well-drawn, and even likable character (I'm not a big fan of the whole idea of AI, but if all of its manifestations were as engaging as she is, I could be more reconciled to the technology :-) ). Except for faster-than-light space travel (which was tacitly tolerated as legitimate even by "hard" SF purists from the very beginning of the genre's pulp magazine era in the U.S.), all of the technology here could be credibly imagined as an extrapolation from existing knowledge. This is basically straightforward action-oriented space opera, with danger, suspense, excitement and (very) bloody combat, such as might have appeared in the SF magazines of the 1920s and 30s; but here there's much more focus on character, and on human moral and spiritual issues. The tale is a quick, one-sitting read. Despite the author's Mormonism, there's nothing necessarily to indicate that Zed or his human crew are supposed to be Mormons as such. There's some mild bad language here, mostly of the d- and h-word sort, from the head villain and sometimes from Eve (we can assume that her speaking style was programmed into her by the secular-humanist programmers who created her), but none of that posed any issue for me in this context. Despite the premise, there's no sexual content. Our villains here happen to be (or, at least, to think of themselves as) Moslems, and to be ethnic Arabs, judging from their names. This extrapolates from the fact that in the contemporary world, the only countries where slavery remains legal, and that still support a slave trade, are those where Sharia law (which regulates slavery, but doesn't forbid it) remains in force. However, that isn't to deny that in the contemporary world a great many of the traffickers who trade illegally in sex slaves are European-descended or of other ethnicities than Arab; that probably the great majority of these are of no religion rather than Moslems (and some undoubtedly profess other faiths); and that many Moslems would deprecate slave trading and trafficking as much as any other decent persons do. I would assume the author knows this, and presumes that it would be no different in the far future. Given that assumption, I didn't take the story as Islamophobic propaganda. (If I would discover that I was wrong, it would definitely affect my rating very adversely!) A more serious issue arises from the fact that Biblical faith and ethics sees God as preferring the repentance of the wicked rather than the death of the wicked; supports the legitimate authority of the State to establish and enforce justice (provided that it actually does so) rather than encouraging lethal vigilantism in the name of God; and has as its focus the proclamation of a message of forgiveness and redemption. Viewed from that perspective, Zedekiah Wight is not genuinely a very sterling poster boy for Christian values (though he may reflect contemporary stereotypes of what Christians are like). Nonetheless, I was prepared to view him as "a work in progress," whose spiritual journey and character arc in the subsequent works of the series remains to be seen. So I was able to accept him as he is for now, and appreciate the story on those terms. ...more |
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Dec 09, 2023
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Dec 09, 2023
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Jul 17, 2023
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Kindle Edition
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| 1576468550
| 9781576468555
| 1576468550
| 3.89
| 2,641
| 1905
| Oct 30, 2004
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liked it
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Born into a middle-class family, Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936) was a British writer of both fiction and nonfiction, much of the latter on relig
Born into a middle-class family, Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936) was a British writer of both fiction and nonfiction, much of the latter on religious subjects. (He was a staunch advocate for classical Christianity, ultimately converting to Roman Catholicism from High Anglicanism in 1922.) Artistically talented, as a young man he considered becoming an artist, and did take college art classes (as well as classes in English literature); but he never took a degree, and wound up becoming a journalist instead, which led into other forms of writing. In the person of his series protagonist Father Brown, he created the first of the mystery genre's many 20th-century clerical sleuths. His prose style is characterized by exuberant humor, joi de vivre, love of paradox, and a really zany imagination. These qualities are never more in evidence than in this short (159 p.) collection of six stories. They're unified by having the same narrator, “Swinburne,” who relates (fictional) experiences he had with his friend Basil Grant, a retired judge, and often shared with Basil's younger brother Rupert, a private detective of sorts. All of these experiences revolve around members of the eponymous Club of Queer Trades, who, in order to be eligible, “...must have invented the method by which he earns his living. It must be an entirely new trade. ....it must not be a mere application or variation of an existing trade. ....the trade must be a genuine commercial source of income, the support of its inventor.” Each of the six stories introduces the narrator to one of these trades, invented by Chesterton with a remarkable fertility of imagination, and unfolded to the reader through a series of wild and bizarre plots that are sometimes seemingly surreal, but which make perfect sense once they're explained. (That's not to say that they don't require very considerable suspension of disbelief.... :-) ) Calling the tales “general fiction” seemingly stretches the definition. True, they're set in the author's Edwardian present, and in or around London, not in a fantasy world. Neither magic nor hitherto unguessed discoveries of science are involved. But the events are so genuinely outre' and off the wall that it's hard to characterize them as descriptions of “everyday life.” Chesterton's humor here, though, is consistently of a whimsical and good-natured sort. Even though I'd previously read and liked other Chesterton works, this one wasn't on my radar until it was nominated for a common read in one of my Goodreads groups, and I only read it because it was picked for that. It did prove to be entertaining, but that's the best that can be said for it. The stories aren't characterized by deep, serious messages, and break no new literary ground; and I wouldn't recommend them as a first introduction to the author's work. For that, I'd recommend a nonfiction work like Orthodoxy, either of the novels The Man Who Was Thursday or The Napoleon of Notting Hill, or (especially) his mystery stories. But even a second-string book by Chesterton has its rewards! ...more |
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Jul 2023
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Jul 13, 2023
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Jul 01, 2023
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Paperback
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| 9798374001969
| B0BS8Y5LMR
| 4.09
| 11
| unknown
| Jan 17, 2023
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liked it
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German-born, long a resident of England but more recently settled in Bulgaria, Rayne Hall is both a writer of supernatural and macabre short fiction,
German-born, long a resident of England but more recently settled in Bulgaria, Rayne Hall is both a writer of supernatural and macabre short fiction, and an enthusiastic editor of a number of themed collections in the same vein. For the first four years of her life, her home was part of a functioning train station where her father was stationmaster. The huge locomotives (then still steam-powered) both frightened and fascinated her, and she credits that early influence with turning her imagination in the direction it took. So the railway-themed subject matter of this anthology has a special appeal to her. There are 20 selections here by as many authors (Hall herself is included), all of them from the English-speaking world, mostly the U.S. or the U.K. (Cage Dunn is from Australia, and R. J. Meldrum immigrated to Canada from Scotland.) Several of them, though, currently live or have lived in Asia, and use Asian settings for their stories; and another tale is set in the Carpathian Mountains of Transylvania; so there's quite a variety in that respect. Genre is similarly varied; some tales are stories of ghostly revenants or other supernatural figures, some have premises that may be science-fictional and some are just inexplicable, while others are purely natural and this-worldly (but no less effective for that!). Fifteen of the stories are by contemporary authors and apparently published here for the first time, but the rest are older works from the 19th or 20th centuries. At about 32 pages, “The Four-Fifteen Express” by Victorian grand-mistress of the ghost story Amelia Edwards is the longest selection (and one of my favorites here!); Nikki Tait's “Why Are Trains Always Late?” is the shortest, a flash fiction less than two pages long. Chronological settings range from the present (in most cases) back through the 20th century, and in a few instances the 19th century. As is often the case with short stories, many of these are hard to comment much on without spoilers. It can be said that, while not ALL of these are dark, tragic and pessimistic, Hall's taste seems to run in that direction; so the great majority of them are. Even in these cases, though, the endings may have a degree of positivity; and the quality of the writing and storytelling itself is usually good despite the often somber flavor. My friend Andrew Seddon has a story, “Wolf Station,” included (although in this case I bought a copy of the book to support his writing, rather than getting a review copy), which I'd beta read; but the beta reading process for this one involved several versions, so I wasn't sure what the final form would be. But given the title and the fact that it's set on the night of a full moon, one might guess that lycanthropy will be involved.... (As we learn in its first sentence, Hall's own story, “Funicular Fare,” also features a werewolf.) Other than that one, the only story here I'd previously read was Charles Dickens' “The Signal-Man” (which I commented on in my review of Charles Keeping's Book of Classic Ghost Stories). Given Hall's tastes, I'd expected Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to be represented by his grim “The Lost Special.” Instead (and happily!) she picked “The Man with the Watches.” Both are among the stories in which “a well-known criminal investigator” (understood to be Holmes, though he's unnamed) offers an ingenious but ultimately incorrect solution to a celebrated case being widely discussed in the newspapers, but here the pleasure of the tale is in the challenge of the baffling mystery, and the true solution is no grimmer than that of the typical Holmes story. Although Edith Wharton wrote her share of ghost stories, her “A Journey” is descriptive fiction that recounts a woman's cross-country train trip with a dying husband, and concludes with supreme irony. Probably the most poignant selection here is “Better Late Than Never” by Zoe Tasia. Meldrum's “The Coffin Express” gives us a fascinating glimpse of real-life Victorian social history with its look at the London Necropolis Railway, which transported corpses and mourners the 20 miles from London to the metropolitan area's main cemetery at Brookwood (though we hope its sideline here existed only in the author's imagination!). IMO, “Unleashed at the Terminal” by Krystal Garrett also deserves a mention, for its plucky heroine. All of the stories are free of sexual content, and virtually all have no bad language. (One story has a single f-word, but I understood the literary purpose it serves.) A few (“Bon Appetit” by Pia Manning, Karen Heard's zombie apocalypse yarn “Out of Order,” and in one place Dunn's “Blood Lake Train”) go for a splatter-plunk, gross-out ambiance that didn't appeal to me. Manning's story is also deeply cynical, and the Tait selection is basically just disturbing and off-putting rather than involving. After each selection, Hall supplies a short paragraph with information about the author. Also, each of the living authors also follow their stories with a brief explanation of what inspired them to write it. In the case of the deceased authors, Hall substitutes an editor's comment. (This format, and the mix of contemporary and older authors, is apparently characteristic of all of her anthologies.) Overall, my rating for the collection would be three and a half stars, if I could give half stars. I chose to round down because four stars would translate to five on Amazon, and I don't believe this collection earned the highest possible rating. But it did earn a positive one! ...more |
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Mar 09, 2023
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Mar 20, 2023
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Feb 20, 2023
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| 1386436232
| 9781386436232
| B07444FMFB
| 3.36
| 58
| unknown
| Jul 20, 2017
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This short e-story, a teaser for a speculative fiction series, got high ratings from two of my Goodreads friends, which put it on my radar. Since it's
This short e-story, a teaser for a speculative fiction series, got high ratings from two of my Goodreads friends, which put it on my radar. Since it's free for Kindle, I downloaded it, and read it at a single sitting (it's only some 27 pages long) last month, when an Internet snafu wouldn't let me log onto Goodreads. My reaction wasn't as positive as my friends' was, though I didn't hate it. Our setting is an apparently alternate world in 1865, the final year of the American Civil War, on a sail-driven British ship in the mid-Atlantic, headed for a Southern port. Protagonist Harris Sullivan, a sergeant in the Confederate army (but disguised in civilian clothes, which makes him a spy under military law, liable to be hanged if he's captured by the enemy, a fact that will doubtless be an important plot element in the series books) is one of half a dozen soldiers entrusted with guarding a shipment of Enfield rifles and ammunition, purchased in England for the war effort. Summerhayes (who is Australian) chose to portray him sympathetically, rather than demonizing him. Nor is the author particularly interested in thrashing out the respective merits of the Union and Confederate causes. Rather, he's setting up a scenario in which both sides will need to compose their differences and work together --and quickly!-- to deal with a powerful menace that's about to threaten the human race in general. We're introduced at the outset to two other passengers on the vessel, an enigmatic, regally-mannered Egyptian woman and her child servant Ahmed. (Both are said to be "dark-skinned," though the lady is also said to be "sun-tanned;" my impression is that they're of the pre-Arab Hamitic Egyptian stock, and the fact that Sullivan treats both of them the same way that he would treat a pair of Anglo-Saxons in the same circumstances speaks well for his essential decency.) We soon find that men are going missing on the vessel, and an atmosphere of foreboding is quickly conjured. It mounts speedily to graphic violence, culminating in an even bloodier climax. The Epilogue sets the stage for the ensuing books of the series. If I rated the tale based on my personal enjoyment of it as it stands, it would get an "okay" two stars. But in fact, I didn't think I could fairly rate it, because it's too obviously not a truly complete work --its entire reason for existing is just to set a stage for the more complete body of the narrative(s) to follow. (That probably partly accounts for the lack of texture and character development -we're never even told Ahmed's age, for instance!-- and for the somewhat dubious plotting in places.) The introduction of a world-threatening menace into the Civil War setting suggests an alternate 1865, and there's no doubt that this is speculative fiction. Whether it's fantasy or SF depends on whether or not the menace is truly magic wielding, or whether we're dealing with Lovecraftian alien beings. (This is probably made clear in the subsequent books, but I'm not invested enough in the scenario to seek those out.) There's no sexual content here, but there is bad language at times, including profanity, swearing, vulgarism and obscenity (though no f-words); the soldier characters tend to have rough vocabularies. As noted above, there's some graphic violence, and one scene in particular isn't for the squeamish. Being an adult, I didn't encounter anything here that scandalized me unbearably; but this isn't a read I'd suggest for kids. ...more |
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not set
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not set
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Apr 26, 2022
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| B0DM1PF2YZ
| 4.14
| 83
| 1957
| Dec 1957
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it was amazing
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My first reading of this well-written, pithy short story was as a kid in the early 60s. It had been published in 1957 in one of the SF pulp magazines
My first reading of this well-written, pithy short story was as a kid in the early 60s. It had been published in 1957 in one of the SF pulp magazines of that day, and a friend had passed that back issue on to me. (Goodreads uses that magazine's cover as its image for the story --but the cover art was for a completely different selection, so has absolutely nothing to do with this one!) As with many of my reads in those years, I forgot the author/title information; but the story itself stayed with me very well, a testament to the quality of the writing. Recently, I downloaded a different story from the same era as a free e-story (and hope to review it as well soon), based on a review by a Goodreads friend, in the belief that it might be this one. Instead, it proved to be a later thin and inferior rip-off of this one; but by then my interest in Memory Lane was piqued enough to search seriously for the real one. Here's the link where it can be read online for free: https://www.you-books.com/book/I-Asim... . Last night, I read it for the second time, now from an adult's perspective, and appreciated it even more. Isaac Asimov (1920-1992), of course, was one of the leading luminaries of American SF's "Golden Age," a friend and protege' of legendary pulp editor John W. Campbell Jr., whose long career was loaded with the genre's honors. Despite my long-standing interest in SF, though, my own tastes lie mostly outside the technophilic optimism and secular humanism of the genre's "hard" school that dominated the ghetto of magazine-based fandom in Asimov's youth (he started writing while still quite young) and shaped his style and vision. His acclaimed Foundation trilogy never interested me, and I couldn't get into his robot fiction; so what I've read of his corpus is a handful of short stories (and I find those a mixed bag). But this one is, IMO, the best work I've read from his pen, and one of the 20th century's master works of speculative fiction. Like much SF written in the late 40s and the 50s-60s, it's strongly influenced by the fear of possible nuclear war, which occupied the minds, not only of the literary community, but of many people in the general population (me included, at that age). Here, though, he takes that theme and writes a serious tale that grapples with ideas, not an arid tract. Our primary setting is Earth's moon, about 15 years after World War II, where protagonist Devi-en heads the Hurrian colony. An uncritical evolutionist as always, Asimov here imagines that our galaxy has developed life on many planets, and evolution has always culminated in intelligent primates --almost always large, tailless, omnivorous primates with strong competitive instincts. Normally, once they develop nuclear technology, they proceed to largely destroy themselves and their world in a nuclear war. Only Hurria produced a dominant race of shorter, tailed and vegetarian primates whose dominant social instinct was cooperation. Never having had a nuclear war, they survived to develop space travel. For a very long time, they've waited for the galaxy's various other primate species to have their nuclear war, then moved in to rehabilitate and colonize the planet, dominate the survivors and collect tribute. But on Earth's moon, they've been waiting an unprecedented 15 years. Now, an Archadministrator has been sent to investigate the question of why the Earthlings aren't getting with the program. In keeping with the hard SF tradition, Asimov doesn't depict anything here that's scientifically impossible (except for the basic implication of faster-than-light interplanetary travel, which was such an ingrained staple trope in the genre that even hard Sf purists wink at it). But his focus isn't on presenting a science lecture or extrapolating, from present knowledge, speculations on what technology might plausibly do in the future. Rather, his interest is social and moral/philosophical (as has been the interest of the best writers since the dawn of literature). He's primarily telling a meaningful, plotted story with high stakes (the fate of a world, and perhaps the galaxy), about characters you can relate to --even if they mostly happen to be three feet tall and furry, with tails. His Hurrians (they call themselves Humans) are intelligently and coherently drawn in a realistic way, and though their psychology is alien to ours, the author brings it to life and makes it totally understandable. That's a significant achievement of world-building in the scope of a short story; and this is one of the more thought-provoking works of fiction (of any length) that I've ever read. ...more |
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Jan 06, 2022
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Jan 06, 2022
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Jan 06, 2022
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| B004TQW3JM
| 3.39
| 96
| Sep 30, 1961
| unknown
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it was ok
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Donald Westlake (1933-2008) eventually became very successful as a writer of mysteries and crime fiction; but he occasionally wrote in the SF genre as
Donald Westlake (1933-2008) eventually became very successful as a writer of mysteries and crime fiction; but he occasionally wrote in the SF genre as well, especially early in his career. Originally published in a pulp magazine in 1961, this mediocre and shallow story was one of those journeyman efforts. I recently downloaded it as a Kindle freebie, in the mistaken belief that it might be a story I'd read and liked in the early 60s. The latter story was actually "The Gentle Vultures" (1957) by Isaac Asimov. (That one can be read online for free at https://www.you-books.com/book/I-Asim... , and my five-star review is here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... .) What initially mislead me was the great similarity in premise: both tales are set mainly on the Moon, roughly in the author's present, with an alien species (who do this routinely, on a lot of worlds) impatiently waiting there for the Earthlings to hurry up and have their nuclear war, so the aliens can take over the planet. That, plus the vulture reference here which otherwise lacks a context, "Why should people hate vultures. After all a vulture never kills anyone" leads me to conclude that Westlake's story is a deliberate rip-off of Asimov's. It is, however, a much shorter and very inferior rip-off, lacking the texture, sociological and psychological insight and philosophical depth that gives Asimov's work its emotional impact and thought-provoking quality. Where Asimov's aliens are primates with some affinity to us, Westlake's are apparently wholly alien (they have tentacles, for instance --and in this story, they just thrive in a highly radioactive environment, unlike Asimov's Hurrians); there's no meditation on competitive vs. cooperative instinct here, and very little in the way of culture-building or emotional engagement of the reader with the characters. I actually debated whether it was worth reviewing; but I usually review everything I read, negative reviews can be as useful to readers as positive ones (and it did inspire me to actually track down the Asimov story!), so I've gone ahead and written this review. :-) ...more |
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Jan 04, 2022
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Jan 04, 2022
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Dec 08, 2021
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Kindle Edition
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| 088394099X
| 9780883940990
| 088394099X
| 4.22
| 9
| Oct 18, 1995
| Mar 18, 2006
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it was amazing
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Debuting in 1925, Lariat Story Magazine wasn't the first of the pulp magazines devoted to Western fiction that graced newsstands in the era between an
Debuting in 1925, Lariat Story Magazine wasn't the first of the pulp magazines devoted to Western fiction that graced newsstands in the era between and just after the World Wars (in one or the other of which many of the authors represented here served). That honor belongs to its rival Western Story Magazine, first published in 1919. But it was apparently one of the most successful and long running, continuing until 1950. During those 25 years, most of the leading writers in the genre had work published in its pages. Contrary to the Goodreads description, not all of the 22 stories, by as many authors, collected in this anthology were first published in the Lariat, though a number of them were. But the others are by authors who contributed to it frequently, or, in the case of the three selections written after its demise, by authors who write very much in the tradition of quality and style that the Lariat exemplified. Editor Jon Tuska (1942-2016) was, among other things, an avid reader/viewer of and well-known authority on Western fiction and films, as well as the literary agent, from 1991 on, for many leading Western-genre writers. He wrote or edited more than 30 books, many of them collections or discussions of Western fiction, or treatments of aspects of the history of the Old West. Here, besides selecting the chronologically arranged stories (just one slightly out of order), he contributed a roughly page-long bio-critical write-up about each of the represented authors, preceding their stories and including a bit of basic information about the selected story itself, such as original publication date and venue. (All of these are as informative and well worth reading.) Also, he provided a 14-page Introduction to the collection as a whole. Most of this is a very detailed summary of the origins of the Western pulp magazine tradition and especially the history of Lariat Western Stories magazine in particular, along with lengthy discussions of the careers of a number of Lariat regular contributors. (Many of the authors and stories referred to are ones I never heard of.) The level of detail here was ultimately eye-glazing; I skipped over a good deal of it, and I think it would mainly be of interest only to very serious genre buffs and academic literature scholars (if any) who don't despise Westerns on principle. But the last couple of pages provide a substantive and insightful discussion of the literary significance of the Western (which Tuska argues is America's only unique contribution to the world's literature), and the reasons for its continuing relevance and appeal. Generally, an anthology this size will contain some stories that don't resonate with me personally. However, every single one of those here were highly rewarding to read (sometimes in different ways). I was struck by the degree of literary quality, emotional impact, concern with genuine moral struggles, and other artistic positives on display here. Character-driven storytelling and realistic, nuanced characterization is the rule. We also have some major characters or even protagonists who are morally gray, and who wrestle with ethical decisions; this adds a significant depth to the reading experience. All the protagonists are male; but strong, capable female major characters with plenty of agency abound. In a number of stories, the plotting includes a strand of clean romance (often quick-developing, but believably so in the contexts presented), and these are always presented in a way that enhances the story. In three cases, the romance is cross-racial/cultural, and this isn't presented as something that's in any way odd or embarrassing; I give the writers high marks for that. The length of the selections varies; several are just 10-12 pages long, while others are at the long end of the "short fiction" continuum. Surprisingly, Louis L'Amour isn't represented here; but otherwise, the included authors seem to be pretty much a roll-call of leading Western writers from ca. 1920-60. (The last story, and one other one, were first published in 1961.) Because I'm not nearly as well read in this genre as in some others, every story here is new to me; and though I recognize a number of the names (being a librarian helps there!), I've only previously read work by four of them. (I'd gladly read more work by all of those represented!) As is often the case with short stories, a number of selections in this collection are hard to comment on in much detail without spoilers. But all the selections are top-notch examples of their type, and reflect well on the genre. The comments below don't touch on all of the stories, but mention some of the ones which stood out the most to me. I did my first actual read of the work of Zane Grey only this past summer, rating his The U.P. Trail at four stars. That work exhibits commendable sympathy with Native Americans in places. He's represented here by the wonderful story "The Great Slave" (1920), set in the world of the Crow and Cree Indians of Western Canada in the late 1700s or early 1800s. His main characters are treated positively, he shows First Nations people to have the same range of moral possibilities as whites, and he depicts their culture (and spirituality) both sympathetically and with accurate detail. Two other stories both by new-to-me authors, "Payroll of the Dead" by Steve Frazee and "The Silent Outcast' by Lauren Paine, focus on situations of whites vs. Native American conflict. Neither writer subscribes to "noble savage" mythology (and both have white viewpoint characters); but both treat their American Indian characters with respect and understanding, rather than demonizing or patronizing them. Interestingly, in introducing Les Savage, Jr., Tuska doesn't mention his corpus of stories about his iconic series character Elgera Douglas (a.k.a. "Senorita Scorpion"). But his story here, "The Beast in Canada Diablo," is likewise set in the Texas-Mexico border country and features Anglo-Hispanic intercultural interaction. It also similarly exhibits his liking for exotic, outre' plot elements (and here, the possibly supernatural --but no spoilers from me!). Emotionally evocative, violent and bloody, but ultimately beautiful, it's gripping from start to finish --a masterpiece! I'd previously read and liked "The Patriarch of Gunsight Flat" by three-time Spur Award winner Wayne D. Overholser. He's represented here by "Stage to Death" (1944), set in Oregon and revolving around a plot to rob a stagecoach. The other writer I'd previously encountered was Lewis B. Patten. My only prior experience with his work was reading his novel Vow of Vengeance, which was underwhelming, getting only two stars from me. But his story here, "Gun This Man Down" (1954), was a definite winner! This and the Overholser story are very different and distinct works; but they both (especially the latter, which has a particularly good use of physical evidence!) incorporate an element of mystery along with six-gun action. Most readers who have any acquaintance with American pulp literature of the period will recognize the name Max Brand. That was the best-known (but far from the only!) pen name used by prolific pulp author Frederick Faust, who would ultimately write some 500 adventure-oriented books, 300 of them Westerns, plus voluminous short fiction. (Given the size of his literary output, it's an anomaly that I'd never read any of his work before; but that's indicative of my relative unfamiliarity with the Western genre.) In 1921, he had been diagnosed with a treatable but incurable heart problem which could have suddenly killed him at any time. Readers will discover that this isn't just a random factoid; it's a central factor in his experience, which will have a big influence on the plot of the selection which represents him here, "Lawman's Heart." (The title has a particularly meaningful punning quality.) All three main characters here are highly nuanced, which adds greatly to the story's impact. I'd also previously heard of Ernest Haycox, and "Stage Station" (which was twice adapted as a film, though neither time under that title) was a great introduction to his work. It stands out particularly for its sympathetically depicted female Hispanic protagonist; and it proved to be an entirely different (in a good way!) type of story than I had expected it to be. "Lawman's Debt" (1934), by Alan Le Maye, is written from the perspective of a callow young bank robber. The story depicts the pursuit of the latter by a renowned but aging sheriff. But the whole situation, and the expectations of both men, is going to be greatly impacted by the sudden breaking of a dam under the pressure of a storm-swollen river; and how events will play out may be surprising. My only quibbles here were with the sheriff's name, "Bat Masters," and the protagonist's impossible feat, which he's looking back on when the story opens, of surprising two bank clerks and single-handedly tying them up. IMO, the lawman's name was too similar to the real-life Bat Masterson's; it had me constantly wondering if we're supposed to see this character as the real-life one (or, perhaps, a facsimile of him), and I think it would have been better to just come up with a more original moniker. And our robber here would have to use both hands to tie knots in a rope, requiring him to set down his gun; but I can't see two other men passively waiting to be tied up if they're not at gunpoint. But these are relatively minor points, which didn't at all keep me from really liking the story. Walt Coburn was actually raised on a working ranch in Montana, where "Riders of the Purple" is set; in describing the rigors of low-tech ranch life, he was writing about a world he knew intimately. Here, he spins a tale of the bonds of friendship and the violent dangers of a largely lawless land, set against the backdrop of the real-life disastrous blizzard-ridden winter of 1886-87 (which I knew about from other sources) and the equally lethal peril of flooding from the melting snows. Born and raised in Texas, Eugene Cunningham was fascinated with and often wrote about the Texas Rangers. His series character Ware (sometimes referred to as "Ware's kid") is a Ranger, and figures here in "The House of Whispering Shadows," set in the southwestern part of the state near the Mexican border, where Anglo and Hispanic cultures interact. Though T. T. Flynn is an author previously unknown to me, I can definitely say that "The Pie River" sets up one of the most emotionally evocative (and wrenching!) premises that I've encountered in fiction, and all three of the main characters are profoundly nuanced. (Note: the titular Pie River plays no role in the tale, save that it takes place in "the Pie River Country;" and as far as I know, the river itself may be a fictional one. It doesn't show up on Google.) Although “The Clown” is the original title that Verne Athenas gave the selection of his work that's included here, it's a misleading one, since the story actually doesn't feature a circus clown, nor really any sort of actual clownish behavior. (The editors at the Saturday Evening Post, when it was published there in 1961, gave it the title “Boy with a Gun,” which is much more accurately descriptive.) Set, judging by its details, probably in the 30s or 40s, it's also not actually a conventional Western as such, more a general fiction, coming-of-age story set in the wilds of the American West. But it's an extremely powerful, even wrenching, story with a very, very good message, and is guaranteed to remain in the reader's consciousness for a long time. Frank Bonham tended to draw his protagonists and plots from other milieus than the typical world of lawmen and ranchers/cowboys, preferring to focus on, for instance, railroad men, lumberjacks, or –as in the story here, “Furnace Flat”-- the borax miners of Death Valley. Peter Dawson's trademark humor is illustrated here by “Colt Cure for Woolly Fever.” (His real name was Jonathan Hurff Glidden, he and Frederick Dilley Glidden, who wrote under the pen name of Luke Short and is represented here by “Brand of Justice,” were brothers.) To comment very briefly about just two other stories, “Stagecoach Pass” by Giff Cheshire is an excellent “humans against nature” yarn. And despite its title, Barry Cord's “The Ghost of Miguel” is not a supernatural ghost story; but it is a great read! :-) These tales are all solid examples of excellent, serious, high-quality storytelling. Given that fact, it's worth noting that editor Tuska frequently, though not always, deliberately chose lesser-known stories here, which had not been included in previous anthologies. That suggests something of the overall quality of the genre itself in the decades from which these examples are drawn! I'd highly recommend this book, both to all Western fans and to short fiction readers in general. ...more |
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One of a number of themed anthologies published by Penguin, this one is organized around the theme of "horror," whether its causes are natural or supe
One of a number of themed anthologies published by Penguin, this one is organized around the theme of "horror," whether its causes are natural or supernatural. Editor Cuddon (b. 1928) was an Oxford graduate, dramatist and novelist, literary and art critic, world traveler, and a man of varied interests, which included the macabre. Here, he assembled a collection of 43 short stories by as many authors. (The first two are anonymous.) This is a thick book; the stories themselves make up 548 pages. That's not counting the substantial Introduction (which adds some 48 pages). The latter is spoiler-free, and something of a model for anthology introductions. Cuddon first defines what he means by "horror stories," then basically provides an erudite and meaty sketch of the history of this type of writing from its roots in classic antiquity up to the later 20th century (this collection was published in 1984), along with reflections on the psychology behind its perennial appeal, and concludes with some explanation of his principles of story selection here. No publication dates or material about the authors accompany the stories, though many of them have copyright dates (sometimes for an English translation) in the Acknowledgements. A previous owner of the book penned in the date 1798 for the first selection, and the arrangement seems to be broadly chronological, with a number of selections definitely from the 19th century, and a number of others from the 20th century. All but five of the known authors are apparently British or American; the exceptions are European (mostly French), and only five are definitely female. (I don't know the sex of a couple of them who only used their initials.) While I didn't immediately recognize ten of the author's names, the other 31 are at least relatively well-known (many of them household names, or close to it, for that part of the public which reads). The great majority of the selections are purely descriptive fiction, naturalistic horror, with just four or five that are science fiction, and only a handful that are supernatural. (Cuddon notes, not unreasonably, that he avoided ghost stories here for the most part, because those were already covered in The Penguin Book of Ghost Stories which he'd previously edited.) Having read a lot of supernatural or macabre short fiction, 13 selections (or over a fourth of the total) are stories I'd already read. Many of these I encountered in other collections, and some of them --"The Waxwork" by A.M. Burrage, "Lost Hearts" by Le Fanu, "Mrs. Amworth" by E. F. Benson, "Leiningen Versus the Ants" by Carl Stephenson, "The Portobello Road" by Muriel Spark, and "The Beast with Five Fingers" by William Fryer Harvey-- I've mentioned or commented on in those reviews. Henry James' "The Romance of Certain Old Clothes" is a ghost story of sibling rivalry and revenge (it's a "romance," in the sense of a story in the style of the Romantic school, not a tale of garments falling in love :-) ). Poe's "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar" is an example of his science fiction, which tells of an experiment in hypnosis with grisly results. Both "Mateo Falcone" by the 19th-century Corsican author Prosper Merimee and "The Man Who Liked Dickens" by Evelyn Waugh were required reads when I was in high school, which stayed with me indelibly across the more than five decades since then. They're very different stories, but both find their grimly real horror in the purely natural realm. Balzac's "La Grande Breteche," Ambrose Bierce's "The Boarded Window," and H. G. Wells "The Sea-Raiders" didn't make enough of an impression the first time I read them to evoke a comment. The Wells story is one of the first examples of science-fictional "creature horror," but not particularly remarkable. "La Grande Breteche" (the title is the name of a deserted country house) could probably be thought of as an early example of the French conte cruel, or "cruel tale" style. While Bierce was an able writer of ghost stories, "The Boarded Window" is a grim piece of descriptive fiction that finds its horror in the dangers of frontier life in early 19th-century Ohio. The two lead stories in the book are the anonymous ones, "The Monk of Horror, or The Conclave of Corpses," and "The Astrologer's Prediction, or The Maniac's Fate," which are probably best read as atmospheric examples of early Romantic horror writing, rather than for any great literary merit or entertainment value of their own. As in his "The Horla," Maupassant's "Who Knows?" is probably best understood as an exercise in storytelling by an unreliable, mentally ill narrator (that's not really a spoiler, since he tells us on the first page that he's writing this in an insane asylum). Robert Louis Stevenson sets the main story in his masterfully-told "The Body Snatcher," in Scotland in the days and milieu of the notorious Burke and Hare, though they don't appear as characters. Both Emile Zola and Sir Walter Scott's friend James Hogg were new authors to me (though of course I'd heard of them). Like Stevenson, the latter makes good use of a Scots setting for "The Expedition to Hell." With "The Death of Olivier Becaille," Zola stays strictly in the natural world; it's a story that's difficult to comment on without spoilers, but it's well worth reading. "Thurnley Abbey" by Perceval Landon (another new-to-me writer) is a capably written traditional ghost story, but not ground breaking. "Mr. Meldrum's Mania" by John Metcalfe (which dates itself to the 1920s by a passing reference to a "flapper," and which suffers from considerable difficulty in inducing suspension of disbelief due to its very "out there" premise) and L. P. Hartley's "The Thought," which is original but hard to describe without a spoiler, are among the very few supernatural stories in the 20th-century selections. (I'd read, and commented on, Hartley's "W.S." in Roald Dahl's Book of Ghost Stories. Maritime science fiction furnishes the horror in "The Derelict" by William Hope Hodgson, but this story relies on the discredited, pseudo-scientific concept of spontaneous generation. Gerald Kersh's "Comrade Death" is also basically science fiction, but written against the very real backdrop of the horrors of the Great War, the tensions that would culminate in World War II, and the activities of the "merchants of death" armaments manufacturers (like Krupp and Nordenfeld) and the unscrupulous salesmen and amoral scientists who worked for them. Most of the other selections from the 20th century are descriptive fiction. Faulkner and Kafka are the biggest authorial names in this group. The former is represented by "Dry September," which centers around the lynching (thankfully not directly described --but this is a very horrific tale nonetheless) of an innocent black man for a "crime" that didn't actually take place; it's a searing indictment both of racism in a particular milieu, and of racism in general. (Readers should be warned that the n-word is used a lot in this story.) That same theme characterizes "The Fourth Man" by John Russell, which puts three vicious white criminals, escaped from a tropical French penal colony, at sea with a limited water supply, in a small boat crewed by a New Caledonia native. This tale also has significant racist language (sarcastic on the narrator's part) but it's strongly subversive of racism. Kafka's "In the Penal Colony" (my first experience of his work!) has the kind of setting Russell's characters escaped from. It's almost surreal in describing behavior we can recognize as crazy --but possibly the point is that a lot of "normal" behavior in penology, race relations, and the bureaucratic mindset rightly ought to be recognized as equally (or not much less) crazy. From what comments I've read about this author's work, I'd say this story might be typical. Both Lord Dunsany and Robert Graves were significant figures in 20th-century British literature, and both are represented here by selections (respectively, "The Two Bottles of Relish" and "Earth to Earth," the latter set during World War II) which differ considerably from the types of writing they're best known for. These are both effective stories; but in hindsight, Dunsany overlooked a significant detail that would discredit his premise. Another writer needing no introduction is Ray Bradbury, whose "The Dwarf" plumbs some of the darkest depths of the human psyche. "Thou Shalt Not Suffer a Witch..." by Dorothy K. Haynes, set in (apparently) Scotland during the "Burning Times," does likewise; the conclusion of the latter, in particular, is not written for the squeamish. Haynes, Augustus Muir, Monica Dickens, Will F. Jenkins and Dawn Muscillo (like Russell) are all writers I'd either never previously heard of or hadn't really remembered. Muir's "The Reptile" and Jenkins' "Uneasy Homecoming," however, are among my favorites in the book (and that's all I'll say about them!). In "Activity Time," Ms. Dickens evokes her horror through an inside look of the ravages of dementia. Muscillo's "Sister Coxall's Revenge" is set in a British mental hospital, and definitely suggests that those institutions were in need of much better oversight (though I suspect that realistically, the real-life oversight would have been a lot better!). At one point, I almost gave up on "Man from the South" by Roald Dahl, because it seemed to be leading to a predictable ending that I found repellant. Actually, Dahl succeeded in taking it in a different direction; but it still packs a gut punch, and the title character in particular is a first-class psychopath. I skipped Patricia Highsmith's "The Terrapin," which I also passed over in The Best American Mystery Stories of the Century. What biocritical information I've read on that author convinced that her literary vision isn't one I'd like or appreciate.) I don't know whether the John Lennon who authored "No Flies on Frank" was the Beatles singer. If he was, he might prefer not to have this piece of drivel (which uses incoherent writing plus surrealism as its gimmick) in his resume.' The best thing that can be said about it is that it's ultra-short. For me, the final two selections were also markedly sub-par, and I actually finished them by skimming. J. N. Allan's "The Aquarist" uses the trope of a mentally deranged narrator, but his incoherent thoughts and perceptions are dragged out for almost 14 pages in boring and obscure language that kept me from really investing in or caring anything about the characters. Finally, "An Interview with M. Chakko" forfeited any claim to "suspension of disbelief" on its first page, and wallows in content which I found both disgusting and demeaning to women. This review doesn't comment on all of the stories, but touches on most of them! My rating is an overall one; there are enough masterful or at least good tales here to merit a positive response, but too many poor or mediocre ones to earn any more enthusiasm than that. ...more |
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| 3.24
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| 1877
| Jun 10, 2020
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really liked it
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Ordinarily, I don't review individual short stories, since I typically read them in book-length collections, rather than as free-standing works. In th
Ordinarily, I don't review individual short stories, since I typically read them in book-length collections, rather than as free-standing works. In the case of this one, though, I originally read it as a kid in an anthology for which, sadly, I've long since forgotten author/title information; and this reread was from Studying the Short-Story: Sixteen Short-Story Classics, with Introductions, Notes and a New Laboratory Study Method for Individual Reading and Use in Colleges and Schools, which I'm not going to read in its entirety. My reread of the tale was prompted by a recent review from one of my Goodreads friends, who was "not terribly impressed with it as a whole." When I'd read it, I'd liked (or at least appreciated) it; but though I could remember the whole basic plot and a number of exact words of narration and dialogue, I didn't feel that I could review it with enough authority to justify a better opinion without a reread. So I suggested it for a current buddy read in the Reading for Pleasure group here on Goodreads; and I found the reread rewarding. First published in 1877, when the author was 26, this was (according to anthology editor J. Berg Esenwein) "Stevenson's first published narrative." Our setting is the mean streets of Paris, France on a bitterly cold and snowy night in November, 1456. (Stevenson had actually visited Paris in the early 1870s, which accounts for his assurance with Parisian geography here.) The protagonist and main viewpoint character of the tale is a real-life person, poet/thief Francis Villon (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fran%C3... ). Biographical details of his life are relatively sketchy (for instance, the date and circumstances of his death are unknown); the principal sources for reconstructing it are court and university records, and the numerous autobiographical references in his own poetry. But the reconstruction of his biography up to 1456, lifestyle and personality in the story is consistent with this information. Guy Tabary --or Tabarie; medieval spellings vary-- was also a real-life person, who gave evidence against Villon to the authorities in 1458; and the chaplain of St. Benoit (whose name was Guillaume de Villon, though the story doesn't give that detail) actually was Villon's foster father, whose last name he took. Written in the Romantic style, the story characteristically draws on a medieval setting (in which daily life was, for most people, simpler, more elemental, and lived more "on the edge" than it was for the average well-off Victorian reader in 1877), and on extreme circumstances and a milieu outside of law and convention, to provide the atmosphere and backdrop for a tale that appeals to emotions of horror, fear, pity and other reactions more complex. (The poverty and moral grunginess of Villon's world is evoked very effectively.) But it also appeals to the mind, both as a vivid, penetrating character study of a complex, three-dimensional personality and as a serious dialogue of ideas between two very different people, with drastically contrasting attitudes. What constitutes honor, as a moral quality? Is theft justified if it's done to survive rather than starve? What moral responsibility does society as a whole bear for the results of class inequalities? What role should the grace of God play in all of this? Does criminal behavior become justified if it's done by soldiers in war? Stevenson doesn't provide canned answers to any of these questions; he just raises them in such a way that the reader has to think about them. This is a serious story, effectively told, and has lost none of its relevance in the passage of over 140 years. IMO, it shows Stevenson to be a master of the art of short fiction, as well as of the novel. ...more |
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really liked it
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Detectives as protagonists entered the realm of English-language fiction in the 19th century, especially in its later decades, and quickly captured th
Detectives as protagonists entered the realm of English-language fiction in the 19th century, especially in its later decades, and quickly captured the fancy of much of the reading public. The earliest examples, such as Poe's Auguste Dupin, Sherlock Holmes, and Chesterton's Father Brown, find their adventures solely in the natural world. But it wasn't very long before other writers took the basic idea into the supernatural realm, to create the figure of the occult or "psychic" detective, such as the hero of Ghosts: Being the Experiences of Flaxman Low (1899) or William Hope Hodgson's Carnacki, a solver of mysteries that involve, or at least often involve, the weird and uncanny. Like their natural-world counterparts, the occult detectives in this formative era were nearly all male. But in Shiela Crerar, the heroine of this six-story cycle originally published in The Blue Magazine in 1920, Ella M. Scrymsour (whose full name was Ella Mary Scrymsour-Nichol) created a distaff incarnation of this type of figure, who can hold her own with any of her male colleagues. I first encountered the character in "The Werewolf of Rannoch" when I read Great Horror Stories: 101 Chilling Tales back in 2020. (Prior to that, I'd never heard of the character or the author.) Guessing correctly that Shiela was a series character, I tracked this book down in the Goodreads database; and having gotten it as a gift this past Christmas, have now taken much satisfaction in reading it! Orphaned as a child, Shiela Crerar was happily raised by an apparently bachelor uncle, a Highland laird with a lot of lineage but not a lot of money. The Sight ran in the family; both she and Uncle John were strongly psychic (her gift --or curse-- as she'll discover early on, allows her to see ghosts, something most people can't), and she shared in his interest in and study of the paranormal. She's a kind-hearted, frank and down-to-earth young woman who loves nature and likes to read; she's also one with considerable determination and a strong will. His sudden death when she's 22 leaves her the owner of his smallish estate, Kencraig, but it's heavily mortgaged. Not willing to sell a place that's profoundly dear to her, she rents it out on a five-year lease, resolved to find a line of work that will ultimately let her pay off the mortgage (while providing for her in the meantime). When nothing else offers, she hits on the idea of offering her services as a psychic detective. (All of this is presented to the reader in the first few pages of the first story, "The Eyes of Doom.") As we learn in the last story, "The Wraith [the back cover copy incorrectly gives that word as "Wrath") of Fergus McGinty," her mission takes her five years to complete. (That she completes it isn't really a spoiler; from the beginning, I think that most readers would surmise that she will.) Her career as an occult detective involves her in some very intense and dangerous experiences, well titled as "Adventures." (Besides the ones already mentioned, the other stories are "The Death Vapour," "The Room of Fear," and "The Phantom Isle.") Her clients are mostly well-to-do Scots gentry, and her travels will take her to various Highland locales, including the Isle of Skye and its environs. She'll deal with mostly supernatural phenomena (one story centers around what proves to be a case of very grim psychic imprinting), including murderously vengeful revenants, a homicidal "Elemental," and lycanthropy. (The latter is explained here as astral projection, in which the sleeping werewolf's astral self projects --sometimes unknown to the projector, but in some cases deliberately-- and can take on the substantial form of a ravening human-beast hybrid.) Scrymsour's tales are plot-driven, straightforward, suspenseful and intense, with a real sense of danger and menace. Her prose style is direct and (along with the relatively short length of the collection) makes for a quick read. Most of the stories involve a backstory rooted in fictional (but realistic) events in Scotland's long and often bloody history, including savage clan warfare and the failed Jacobite rising in 1745 and its vicious repression. (I felt this exhibited some affinity to M. R. James' "antiquarian" approach to the supernatural tale, which for me was a plus.) There's some effective reference to Celtic and other occult lore. Scrymsour furnishes her heroine with a love interest introduced in the first story, Stavordale Hartland, so there's a note of clean romance. (If we picture the stories as taking place from 1915-1920, it's not clear why Stavordale's not in the military; but the Great War isn't reflected anywhere in this corpus at all.) Shiela packs a pistol and can use it effectively (the author describes it as an "automatic revolver," which tells us that she knew virtually nothing about handguns!), but that plot element only appears in one story. There's not a lot of directly described gore here, but there is reference to mostly off-stage past grisly atrocities, and to present-day violent deaths of animals and humans, both adults and children; and in one case the murder of a two-year old child in real time, though it's not described in detail and is over in four sentences. (Unfortunately, Shiela's heroic qualities don't include quick reaction time; my biggest peeve with the book was that she failed to act in time to prevent this!) Scrymsour's characterizations are not sharp; Shiela is the best-drawn character, but Stavordale isn't developed as much, and the chemistry between the two doesn't come across as strong. He also tends to address her with phrases like "little woman, which I found irksome. But I didn't find the message of the story cycle to be sexist; he wants her to give up her detective work and marry him, but she won't do that until she completes her self-set mission. (And though one reviewer holds the theory that Shiela's psychic powers depend on virginity, so that marriage will destroy them, to my mind the conclusion of the last story suggests the opposite; Stavordale comes to realize that her Sight is a permanent part of her, whether she uses it to further a paid career or not.) ...more |
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| B08YQFT1JR
| 4.50
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| Mar 11, 2021
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really liked it
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This latest collection of short fiction by Goodreads author (and my longtime Internet friend) Andrew M. Seddon is newly published this year. (It turns
This latest collection of short fiction by Goodreads author (and my longtime Internet friend) Andrew M. Seddon is newly published this year. (It turns out that I'm the first Goodreader to review it.) As is his wont, he generously gifted me with a copy, and was kind enough to mention me in his acknowledgements, since I was a beta reader for all seven of the stories. However, that was some years ago; and though I remembered several of them very well, I reread the whole book for this review. As the title hints, these tales form a story cycle --bound together with bridging material, and a short Prelude (followed by a "Theme and Introduction") and Coda-- each one focusing on one of the traditional "seven deadly sins:" lust, avarice, gluttony, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. They're supposedly told, over a period of a year or so, by 80-something retired Roman Catholic priest Adrian Whiteley to his much younger cousin Devin. A best-selling writer of fiction, Devin was raised as a Catholic, but isn't himself a believer; he's a proud, worldly man who's never been very close to his cousin. But the well-read and well-traveled Adrian has had quite a few ...strange experiences in his life (I picture him as someone with an innate greater degree of sensitivity to the supernatural than most) and Devin's been urged by his sister to record some of the older man's stories while he's alive to tell them. So our viewpoint character finds himself making several journeys to Adrian's little cottage in the countryside of Northumberland (England's northernmost county), not far from the shores of the North Sea. At just 98 pages, the collection is a quick read; the stories themselves are linear and briskly paced, not minimalist in style (as always, the author textures his prose with the little details that create verisimilitude and lets you visualize what you're reading) but not excessively detailed either. Most are set in England (where Andrew was born, and where he's traveled extensively), but they also take us to Israel, Egypt and Ireland. They're consciously told to serve a moral and didactic purpose, which doesn't exclude literary art --indeed, they're crafted with perfect artistry to serve the intent. Using the technique that Washington Irving called "resonance" --and using it as skillfully as Irving did!-- Andrew filters the narratives from Adrian through Devin as our proxy listener (and sometimes Adrian is himself the listener and conduit for another person's story). Supernatural elements can include the ghostly, the demonic, the world of dreams that may be more than dreams, and more. No, in real life, people don't, at least generally, experience glimpses of the supernatural this vivid (though there are more empirical accounts of "ghosts" than rationalists might suppose). But the spiritual and moral truths these literary conceits fictionally highlight are very real. Since Adrian is Catholic (as is Andrew) his life experiences have mostly taken place in a Catholic context. But the messages of the stories aren't Catholic in a denominational sense; they're simply classically Christian. My personal favorite out of the seven is "That Which Walks;" it has a bit of an "antiquarian" vibe, reminiscent of M. R. James, that I like. Readers with some knowledge of Egyptology will guess (correctly) that "The Feather of Ma'at" has a background in Egyptian mythology. None of the premises of the stories are Lovecraftian (though Andrew has done some excellent writing in that mode!), but a couple make nice use of HPL's characteristic device of the italicized conclusion. Like a lot of Andrew's short historical fiction, "In Askelonem" is inspired by an actual discovery in Roman-era archaeology (https://archive.archaeology.org/9703/... ) --and painfully reminds us that our own era is no less barbarous than pagan Roman society was. I debated over my rating, finally deciding that I'm sometimes too prodigal with my five-stars, and that the stories here cannot strictly be said to be actually "amazing." But they're certainly very, very good, and I definitely really liked them. If you're also a fan of short supernatural fiction with a spiritual point, you might like them as well! ...more |
Notes are private!
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Apr 23, 2021
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Apr 28, 2021
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Apr 07, 2021
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Paperback
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| 1598185063
| 9781598185065
| 1598185063
| 3.68
| 388
| 1890
| Dec 01, 2006
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it was amazing
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Note, July 15, 2022: I've just edited this to correct two minor typos. One of the more enduring motifs of traditional folklore is the idea of shape-shi Note, July 15, 2022: I've just edited this to correct two minor typos. One of the more enduring motifs of traditional folklore is the idea of shape-shifting, of humans somehow taking on animal form. Its origins are probably prehistoric; it can be found in Africa and Asia as well as Europe. More than one kind of animal figures in this material (Russia, for instance, has its were-bear lore), but the wolf seems to be predominate. (In Old English, "were-wolf" means literally "male human-wolf.") Wolves have never enjoyed a good press among their human neighbors. They're large carnivores with big, strong bodies and formidable fangs, who hunt in packs, and who could do serious damage to a human if they wanted to. The fact that they don't typically want to (see Never Cry Wolf: The Amazing True Story of Life Among Arctic Wolves by Farley Mowat) has never kept people from assuming that they do. Add to that the fact that they certainly do hunt domestic animals, and will fight humans who try to interpose between them and this (in their eyes, perfectly legitimate) prey, and that rabid wolves have at times attacked humans and infected them with rabies by their bites, and you have the ingredients for an eons-old fear of the species, and for a terrifying mythos of the humans who can transform into one of them. This belief is pre-Christian; but in medieval Europe, it also marinated for 1,000 years in the matrix of a Christian world-view which reinterpreted the older elements as part of a conflict between God and Satan (with the werewolves very definitely seen as being on the side of Satan). As supernatural fiction took shape in the European literary tradition in the early modern centuries, this folkloric background was the quarry from which the writers would hew their material. (Since the lore itself is varied, literary treatments of it vary; and the differing imaginations and literary visions of the authors would make for further diversity.) Werewolf fiction in English goes back well into the 19th century (at least). This 1896 novella --really a glorified short story; I read it this time in two sittings-- is far from the first use of the motif, but it is the oldest one I've read so far. This was a reread for me, but was the first time I read it in a free-standing format; my prior read was as part of A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture. (And I actually read it this time for free online at the Owl Eyes site, here: https://www.owleyes.org/text/the-were... , rather than in the e-book edition to which this review is attached.) Our setting is medieval Scandinavia --it's not defined any more narrowly than that, and that much is made clear only by the descriptions, the characters' names, and the kind of social setting depicted. It's winter, and the action takes place on and around a manorial farm in a sparsely populated locale, where the nearest neighbors are on other farms a very long walk away. The male stead-holders are two brothers, fraternal twins (their mother's still living, but their father isn't mentioned), dominant Sweyn and symbolically-named Christian. These contrasting characters and their interpersonal dynamic are brought to very vivid life, and these play a key role in the tale. It won't be much of a spoiler to note that the werewolf figure here is female, a clever touch which gives her the weapons of feminine mystique and elemental physical attraction, where males are concerned, to add to her arsenal, as well as the protection of the instinctive reluctance of decent males to do violence to a woman. (Various elements of traditional werewolf folklore and mythology are utilized, and the werewolf is definitely the traditional malevolent, homicidal figure.) Housman crafts her story with consummate artistry. What makes it particularly noteworthy, however, is the clarity and extraordinary power of the explicit Christian symbolism which is the central thrust and message of the story. This is far and away the most profoundly Christian treatment of the werewolf mythos that I've ever read. IMO, it deserves to be vastly more well-known than it currently is. ...more |
Notes are private!
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2
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Dec 2020
not set
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Dec 02, 2020
not set
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Oct 02, 2020
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Paperback
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| B0865YCJLS
| 3.90
| 81
| unknown
| Mar 28, 2020
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really liked it
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One of my Goodreads friends recently gave this short e-story a very favorable review. Since it's free for Kindle, even though I wasn't familiar with t
One of my Goodreads friends recently gave this short e-story a very favorable review. Since it's free for Kindle, even though I wasn't familiar with the author, I thought I'd give it a try. It proved to be a worthwhile read, and would have been read in one sitting if I could have (my opportunities for reading on the Kindle app are sometimes erratic and scanty); its suspense factor is quite high. I've recommended this for readers of dystopian fiction; it's set in the U.S. (the exact geographical area isn't specified any more particularly) about 40 years into our future, and I've classified it as science fiction. However, the science fiction element, as such, is not very marked, and what there is involves strictly speculation in social science, not technology or natural science. What Vasicek has done, for the most part, is simply to project the continuation of already marked socio-economic and political trends into the near future to see where they might take us. So his dystopia, seen through the eyes of a normal couple with an elementary-school-age son, is characterized by sharp division between a small minority of the very wealthy and the large majority of the very poor; rampant urban crime, and a lot of use of drones in policing; runaway inflation; a bureaucratic government that's inclined to spy on its citizens and criminalize dissent; and U.S. troops put in harm's way in the Third World to bolster an imperialistic foreign policy. None of these are novel phenomena in 2020 (and the same could be said of fortified schools that are more like prisons, and shoddy infrastructure); even drones as described here already exist, though they're not as routinely used. All that's new in these respects is the more extreme fruits of 40 years of the same, continuing unchecked; but though the United States isn't currently this dystopian, there are, and have been, real-world countries in the same boat. The one feature that's arguably an element of social science fiction here is UBI ("universal basic income"), which at present has been proposed by many on the Left but never enacted as such, even though all modern welfare states have tried to apply the concept to the "have-nots" --just not to the entire general population. However, beyond the fact that in the story it simply constantly chases rising prices rather than keeping up with them (and in fact triggers the rises whenever it rises --but this is already true of most attempts to unilaterally increase the money supply), its effects aren't analyzed in any detail and it doesn't serve as an obvious cause for the dystopian trends, which as noted above already preceded it. UBI, ironically, played much more of a role in the genesis of the story than it does in the story itself. Vasicek originally wrote it, according to his Author's Note, for a writing contest sponsored by two pro-UBI organizations, which invited authors to write stories imagining its effects if enacted. That a story which is skeptical of the idea's utility didn't win that contest isn't surprising. The fact that over a two-year period, it was rejected by every genre magazine it was submitted to --not because the SF element is on the SF-lite side, but because it treats a hard-Left ideological sacred cow with something less than a genuflecting reverence-- is, IMO, scarier than any of the fictional social dysfunctions the story posits. Overall, this is a gripping story, with characters that I came to care about, even though they're not very sharply drawn or developed in great detail. Like all dystopian fiction, it's intended to be a cautionary tale, inspiring readers to work towards a different future. It doesn't give any detailed program for how to do that, nor preach any particular ideological message (beyond the favorable treatment of family ties and loyalty), but that's not necessarily the function of fiction. It works more by encouraging an attitudinal recognition that, if the society depicted here isn't one we want, then what we do want is one that's more equitable, more democratic, more peaceful, more respectful of other human beings and more encouraging of their aspirations. In my estimation, that's a pretty good recognition to encourage! ...more |
Notes are private!
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Sep 20, 2020
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Sep 27, 2020
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Aug 22, 2020
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Kindle Edition
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my rating |
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| 3.90
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it was amazing
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Dec 04, 2024
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Dec 06, 2024
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| 4.00
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really liked it
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Jan 11, 2025
not set
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Oct 30, 2024
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| 4.00
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really liked it
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Mar 12, 2024
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Feb 07, 2024
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| 3.92
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it was ok
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Oct 03, 2024
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Jan 30, 2024
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| 5.00
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it was amazing
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Feb 19, 2024
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Jan 29, 2024
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| 3.50
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really liked it
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Apr 27, 2024
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Dec 20, 2023
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| 4.24
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it was amazing
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Dec 19, 2024
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Dec 06, 2023
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| 3.83
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really liked it
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Dec 09, 2023
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Jul 17, 2023
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| 3.89
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liked it
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Jul 13, 2023
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Jul 01, 2023
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| 4.09
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liked it
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Mar 20, 2023
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Feb 20, 2023
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| 3.36
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not set
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Apr 26, 2022
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| 4.14
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it was amazing
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Jan 06, 2022
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Jan 06, 2022
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| 3.39
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it was ok
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Jan 04, 2022
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Dec 08, 2021
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| 4.22
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it was amazing
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Aug 19, 2023
not set
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Sep 07, 2021
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| 3.66
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liked it
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Sep 21, 2024
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Aug 08, 2021
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| 3.24
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really liked it
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Jun 17, 2021
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Jun 17, 2021
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| 4.35
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really liked it
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Jan 18, 2024
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May 24, 2021
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| 4.50
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really liked it
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Apr 28, 2021
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Apr 07, 2021
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| 3.68
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it was amazing
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Dec 02, 2020
not set
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Oct 02, 2020
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| 3.90
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really liked it
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Sep 27, 2020
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Aug 22, 2020
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