You’d have to be very lucky to pick up a compilation, such as this, and find you liked every story. Conversely, you’d have to be incredibly unlucky to find that you disliked all of it.
This collection contains some excellent short stories. It also contains some that, whilst not terrible, undermine the claim to be ‘The best’ of the year.
Some of the stand-out stories include:
- The Future is Blue by Catheryne M Valente – This is a fantastic tale about a girl with the unlikely name of Tetley Abednego who lives on a floating continent of waste following an environmental disaster caused by the ‘Fuckwits’ i.e. us. Tetley is widely despised, obscenities are flung her way regularly. The descriptions of the floating world are vivid.
- Even the Crumbs Were Delicious by Daryl Gregory – Babes in the Wood meets Philip K Dick in a funny, warm tale.
- Things with Beards by Sam J Miller – Often dreamlike. Space creatures deal with issues of equality and social justice. A story to dwell on and read again.
- Laws of Night and Silk by Seth Dickinson – A high fantasy story concerning war, magic and unimaginable sacrifice in the pursuit of victory. Simply stunning, a standout in this collection.
- Touring with the Alien by Carolyn Ives Gilman – Concerns contact with aliens who are sentient but not conscious as “Being aware would just degrade their skill”. This is an interesting contemplation on how many strive to lose self-awareness.
- Elves of Antarctica by Paul McAuley – Eco sci-fi, similar in theme to Catheryne M Valente’s story. A massive remedial industry exists to prevent rising sea levels.
- The Visitor from Taured by Ian R MacLeod – A love story in which the multiple universe theory plays a part. Very well written and poignant.
There are many more stories, some good and some that are average. The one criticism of this collection is that it feels too long and would have made a tighter, more impressive book with some of the weaker stories omitted.
Fans of sci-fi and fantasy are unlikely to feel short-changed if they buy this book. There are enough great stories to make up for the ones that don’t quite hit the mark.
The Djinn Falls in Love & Other Stories – Edited by Mahvesh Murad and Jared Shurin (Solaris 2017)
I love the variety and surprises that short story collections often bring. I was intrigued by this book which aims to showcase global storytelling and to showcase the djinn (alternatively jinn or genie) as an element of folklore with “immense contemporary” relevance.
The stories are written in a variety of styles. Classic fairy tales, fantasy, science fiction and ‘weird’ feature amongst others. Many of the writers bring contemporary issues into focus through a lens of magic.
I’ll highlight a few of the stories that stood out:
The Congregation by Kamila Shamsie – This has a traditional feel and is about a boy, fathered by a jinn, who wishes to feel whole again by being possessed by his jinn brother. There is a lovely line it where a character says “There is no evil here, only love. God save us from a world that can’t tell the difference.”
Hurrem and the Djinn by Claire North – Tells a tale of the Sultan’s favourite lady who is believed to be a witch. It’s about the suspicion and rumour that dogs women of influence and the hatred they face.
Glass Lights by J.Y Yang – This is a lovely story of Mena, a Muslim girl who was told by her grandfather that she is a djinn. Mena quietly helps others without expectations. It is a tale of everyday life, passing encounters with strangers and the mundanity and randomness of the working day.
A Tale of Ash in Seven Birds by Amal El-Mohtar – The immigrant experience is writ large in this tale. We are told that “Nations are great magicians; they pull borders out of hats like knots of silk. Here, says the wizard nation, here are the terms of a truce: be small, be drab, above all be grateful, and we will let you in.” This is a prose piece rather than a straightforward story.
Reap by Sami Shah – US based drone operatives spend long shifts watching and analysing a small village in Pakistan. Through heat signatures and movements they watch a supernatural horror unfold. Tense and very effective.
Message in a Bottle by K.J. Parker – Witty and mediaeval in style. Some of the dialogue is a bit too contemporary to fit in comfortably but an excellent story nevertheless.
Bring Your Own Spoon by Saad Z. Hossain – Great dystopian sci-fi about the poor and dispossessed. A Djinn, a cook and a smuggler set up a kitchen and shelter to provide for the poorest. Well written. The descriptions of the simple meals cooked made my mouth water.
Somewhere in America by Neil Gaiman – Taken from his novel American Gods. This is just excellent. Funny, explicit, moving and empathetic. It works as a standalone short story.
Overall an engaging, though provoking collection.
This is an interesting non-fiction book that could be described as a thought-piece (speculative non-fiction maybe). The author, Chuck Klosterman, points out that ‘This is not a collection of essays.’ He does seem to be rather talented at anticipating what the reader may be thinking at any given time and addressing it in his writing.
Klosterman tries to view our current world as it will be seen by future generations in many hundreds of years time. Klosterman acknowledges that this might be a futile task as he will not be around to see if he is right and accepts that any prediction he makes is likely to be wrong.
He considers a wide range of current human knowledge and endeavours, including science, rock music, television, sports and democracy. Klosterman carried out interviews with a number of authorities and people well known in their fields such as David Byrne, George Saunders and Neil deGrasse Tyson.
Gravity is tackled early on. Klosterman notes that Newton was right and then Einstein was right. He asks if scientific theories will change in 500 years time or whether Einstein effectively ‘nailed it’ for all time. We will never know but it’s a very interesting question. How often do any of us think about gravity? What if it is a manifestation of other forces currently beyond our understanding? I was reminded of being studying for A levels at school where a number of science teachers told us that what we had learned up to that point was not wrong but a simplification of what the actual ‘truth’ was.
In questioning science, Klosterman appears to try the patience of Neil deGrasse Tyson, which is quite amusing in itself.
Rock music seems to be an area in which Klosterman feels more at home. He talks about how we apply filters to the past to cope with complexity and settle on a few famous names as being typical of a genre or the best in their field. I think this is true to an extent. Most people will only have a passing acquaintance with classical music might be able to name a few composers and it would probably be safe to assume that Mozart and Beethoven would feature. At first I thought ‘yes, but there are many classical music lovers out there who could name lots of composers and tell you which ones stand out’. But then I realised that the point he is making is that, to the layman, Mozart or Beethoven would be their answer because it is accepted wisdom, they’ve been told since childhood that these composers matter. It doesn’t matter whether they’ve heard any music by them or whether they actually like it. Individual opinions do not have any impact on the collective view of Mozart and Beethoven now.
Klosterman argues that normal humans don’t possess enough information to nominate alternative possibilities. He believes that most Americans would name Frank Lloyd-Wright as the greatest architect of the 20th century. Again, there seems to be some substance to this. If I were to ask you who were the greatest:
1. Writer in the English language,
2. Greatest British Prime Minister.
3. Greatest British naval commander
the answers for many people would be the same. Many answers would be based on accepted received knowledge and if a person had not read Shakespeare or knew nothing of the lives of Churchill and Admiral Nelson then it would not matter.
In talking about popular music, Klosterman comments that ‘weirdos get to decide what matters about the past, since it’s the weirdos who care the most.’ By ‘weirdo’ he means collectors, obsessives who feel marginalized by society and who were drawn to music that reflected those feelings. This might suggest that importance is dictated by older white males. As a reader of Mojo, this seems to ring true. The letters page is regularly filled with obscure references and arcane knowledge wheeled out to highlight their deeper grasp of lore.
It is really interesting to consider our knowledge and how certain truths have been determined by society as a whole. I suppose we could argue that how this process has worked in the past is no guide to how it might work in the future.
A chapter entitled ‘Don’t Tell Me What Happens. I’m Recording It.’ Is an elliptical, obtuse monologue on what TV programmes will be treated as being significant in the future. It seems to fizzle out in Klosterman’s own uncertainty as to what argument he is putting forward and whether it actually belongs in his book.
Chuck Klosterman writes engagingly and wittily. It’s a good read even if you feel you are not really grasping his argument. It’s heavy on subjective arguments and you might just think ‘what’s the point of reading this?’ It would certainly be futile to try to argue which scientist, musician, writer or artist would be regarded as the ‘greatest of the 20th/21st century’ in ,say, 500 years time. However, the idea of looking at our own knowledge and accepted beliefs is a good one that can help us to understand ourselves better and challenge the status quo. The book is rather like listening to a garrulous and funny friend opening up to you over a drink and that’s no bad thing.
Note: Book pictured right way up!
By Gaslight is the newest novel of Canadian poet Steven Price and it’s a prodigious work. At 730 pages I could have done with a portable lectern to hold it whilst reading it. Once I had picked it up I was captivated. The characters, story and settings are vivid, sympathetic, well-formed and enthralling. If I did not already know that Steven Price was an acclaimed poet by the bio that accompanied the book I would have guessed as much after a few pages.
The story concerns William Pinkerton, son of Allan Pinkerton founder of the Pinkerton detective agency. Pinkerton, a hulking Civil War veteran, is stalking the streets of Victorian London looking for a lady called Charlotte Reckitt, who he believes is the key to finding one Edward Shade and elusive and some believe mythical master criminal. Allan Pinkerton was obsessed with Shade and went to his grave having failed to apprehend him. William inherits his father’s mania and becomes fixated on finding out what happened between Shade and his father. Some of Pinkerton’s friends and associates think that Shade did not exist, that he was a made-up person or a cover for a criminal gang.
The descriptions of Victorian London are vivid and poetic. Smoke, fog, smog, grime, dirt, soot and effluent are in abundance. People and buildings appear dimly in orange or brown lights and are then lost as the smog closes around them.
Price’s writing style is measured and allows readers to get to grips with characters and plot themselves without being spoon-fed. There are slow-burning introductions to characters. Unusually, no speech marks are used but it does not affect the reading experience, I quite liked it.
Pinkerton is not the only person interested in Charlotte Reckitt. Adam Foole, an ageing entrepreneur, gambler and criminal has travelled to Liverpool from the U.S. after receiving a letter from Reckitt. Foole is accompanied by a young girl named Molly and a gigantic shaggy man named Japheth Fludd to whom he is friend, boss and family.
For his part, Pinkerton is assisted by his father’s old associates and Scotland Yard detectives. One of my favourite characters was Inspector Blackwell, a diligent detective with a love of puns. Moments of dark humour light up the grimy London atmosphere. On examining a decapitated head and dismembered torso at a mortuary, Pinkerton’s asks ‘What happened to her hair?’
The story rolls backwards and forwards between Pinkerton’s present investigation and his past life as a Union soldier and young detective assisting his father’s business. We are also given insights into Adam Foole’s early life and relationship with Charlotte Reckitt. The scenes switch from London to take in the U.S and South Africa. All feel vivid and real.
Pinkerton and Foole’s mutual interest in Charlotte Reckitt brings them in contact with each other and their relationship is at turns one of common interest and mutual mistrust. Foole’s shady dealings are the antithesis of what Pinkerton represents but it is Pinkerton who often appears as a bully who uses suspect methods to persecute those who stand in his way of discovering Edward Shade.
Some of the main themes of the book are obsession, the treatment of children and women, loyalty, betrayal, revenge, how much we can know people and how much they really know themselves.
Criticisms? None of note. A comb of parlour matches is described in the early pages but I suspect they would not have existed in Victorian England at this time. After landing in Liverpool, there is talk of ‘travelling up to London’ but I would think that ‘travelling down’ would be more appropriate. However, these are of no consequence.
By Gaslight is an exceptional, compelling and very satisfying novel that I would recommend highly.
A novel about love, dedication, violence, sex, finding meaning in life and revenge, in which London itself is arguably the biggest character. This is a wonderful book, one I itched to read when work or sleep prevented me from doing so.
Mick Wilton, a gangland enforcer from Sheffield, travels to London to avenge his girlfriend Gabby who tells him that she has been violated by six men whilst she was performing for them. Mick does this without hesitation or planning, for him it’s simply the right and logical thing to do. Mick’s disdain for the capital, unwillingness to seek even basic assistance (such as directions), inventive violent streak and complete lack of knowledge about London is humorous and engaging.
Mick decides to buy a map and finds himself in London Peculiar, a wonderful sounding establishment stocked with books and maps of the capital. Mick is assisted by Judy Tanaka, a London born girl who is half Japanese. Judy is obsessed with London. Having only a list of names, Mick turns to Judy to suggest some areas of London where the men he is after might live. Judy is fascinated by what Mick may be up to and becomes embroiled in his activities.
Despite being violent and unpredictable, Mick makes some insightful and often funny remarks on life and his surroundings. At one point he gives his opinion of the song ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner’.
Well, you know, I’ve always thought it’s a really poxy song. I mean it’s not good enough to to love a place just because you happen to come from there, is it? Loving it just because you’re a Londoner is rubbish. Itt’s not a reason, it’s just a prejudice.
We are introduced to Stuart London, a man who thinks his own name is ridiculous but loves London and operates a company that offers themed walking tours with his wife Anita. The success of the company means Stuart finds himself surplus to requirements and becomes aimless and disaffected. His replacement activity involves walking every street in London. Stuart’s thoughts about his plans to carry out his walk, what sorts of streets are included, how he will document what he sees and his determination that it will not be a ‘sightseeing’ trip is very absorbing. Stuart identifies with Pepys but feels at a disadvantage because Pepys lived through more momentous times.
Judy is the link that connects Mick and Stuart. One man is beginning to love London and the other is becoming tired of it.
The book was originally written in 1997 and there are references to the use of phone boxes, video cassettes and Littlewoods that alert you to the fact that it was not written more recently.
Finally, just look at the cover, it’s brilliant.
Thi is a thoroughly enjoyable book and I would not hesitate to recommend it.
Pretentious, melodramatic and excruciating. I’m sorry to say I found this book something of a trial and would have given it to a charity shop after 50 pages had it not been for the fact that it’s my book club choice for July and I felt I should persevere.
The book tells the tale of Monsieur Jean Perdu, owner of the ‘Literary Apothecary’, a floating bookshop on the Seine. Monsieur Perdu is middle-aged, single and believes he can cure people’s emotional needs by talking to them and recommending a suitable book. Feel ill yet? I did.
Jean lives in an apartment at 27 Rue Montagnard. A young novelist called Max Jordan, who has written a book about the inner lives of men and their frailties, also lives in the building. One day, an attractive divorcee named Catherine moves into the building, she has no furniture and in finding a spare table to give to her, Jean opens up a room and part of his life that has not been examined for 20 years.
Although he seems expert at helping others with their emotional pains, Jean has hidden an old trauma from which he has not recovered; a former lover called Manon. In attempting to find some redemption and meaning, Jean and Max go on a metaphorical and physical voyage on the book barge (Literary Apothecary is an appalling name).
The ensuing journey heaps emotion, melodrama and wincingly bad prose and scenes into a slag-heap of regrets, creepy decades-long fixations, tears and catharsis. Fierce emotion and wholly unbelievable dialogue abounds. Jean recalls conversations he had with his lost love, Manon, who said to him;
Who knows Jean, you and I might be made of the dust from one and the same star, and maybe we recognised each other by its light. We were searching for each other. We are star seekers.
In my notes I simply wrote ‘FFS’.
At as top on the journey they enter a garden where there is a lady painting. She is naked apart from a hat. Without introduction or explanation the lady asks Max to play the piano. When asked her name she says;
Forget about names. There’s no need for them here. Her we can call ourselves whatever we want.
At a stop in Avignon it is noted that Jean does not like the place;
This city didn’t appeal to Jean; it seems to him like an hypocritical whore, living off her past papal glories.
Seriously, who thinks like that? “How was your trip to Weston-Super-Mare Dave?”
“Well the kids had a good time, but I think of Weston as a haughty dowager duchess, resentful of the youth and vitality of others.”
It’s not right is it.
Whilst I might be happy to tell people how this book made my teeth grind and the flesh creep up my spine, I could not recommend this to anyone, ever.