Fantasy & Science Fiction: December 2007

There’s nothing I don’t like in the December issue of F&SF, and Lucius Shepard’s Films column tops it off: “The sole value of movies like Rise of the Silver Surfer,flavorless, odorless, soulless product, is that they provide a register for the flatlining of our culture–not of its intelligence, really, but of its will to excel and to strive.”

In juxtaposition to the American need for aimless diversion, Shepard examines two Scandinavian films.   While Songs from the Second Floor sounds entirely uninteresting, Shepard’s description of The Bothersome Man makes it sound fascinating.  But both, Shepard argues, are examples of nihilistic hopelessness.  They wallow in despair as surely as Rise of the Silver Surfer wallows in vacuity.

These examples, seemingly from opposite ends of the artistic spectrum, reflect the same “cynical world view, . . . the abandonment of art as a tool for change, and to our overall surrender.”  The nihilism of the intelligentsia or the idle distraction of the masses amount to the same thing: disengagement. 

Shepard’s thinking gave me that peculiar pleasure that comes from reading a resonant truth, and this insight continues to clarify my views.  Not bad for a review column.

The stories are good too:

The country is divided over Iraq now, but after 9/11 everyone’s focus was Osama bin Laden and we were united.  Everyone wanted to do something.  The problem was (and still is) how to find him.  In “Osama Phone Home” David Marusek’s characters employ an elegant solution: they out-qaeda al-Qaeda, forming an organization modeled on the decentralized and dispersed terrorist group.

It feels a little like a heist and a little like a techno-thriller, with different cells of the organization investigating plausible technologies and tactics for forcing the terror-master to reveal himself.  The story is a bit dry, the ending’s tone perhaps incongruent, but it’s a fascinating approach to vigilantism that weds high technology and guerrilla strategy.

Even more intriguing is “Stray,” by Benjamin Rosenbaum and David Ackert.  Ivan is an immortal being who can captivate the will of humans, shaping religions and empires.  He becomes sympathetic when he falls in love with an early nineteenth-century black woman.  To live a normal human life he must abstain from using his power.  But life is precarious, and Ivan’s impulse to protect what he’s gained may instead destroy it. 

It’s a dilemma that will leave him with loss no matter what he does.  Which is exactly what it means to be human.

Frederic S. Durban’s “The Bone Man” is an eerie tale of a soulless hitman who stops off in a small town on his way home from a job.  A true cynic who believes Halloween is a parable for human existence (”We wear masks.  We collect and eat candy.  We die.”), Conlin is amused by the town’s superstitious tradition of the Bone Man, a spectral figure who leads their parade.

As his amusement turns to unease, so does mine (a good thing).  Although I expected Conlin’s childhood to tie more directly into the plot, the leisurely pace led to a nice payoff in a memorable story.

The first person plural is an odd POV for a story, but M. Rickert is the odd author who can eschew clarity without raising my hackles.  She does it again with “Don’t Ask.”  My tastes might only allow me to ingest her work in small doses, but the poetry of the final line in this story cut all the way to the wolf pelt I don’t have in my heart.

I very much liked “Who Brought Tulips to the Moon?” by S. L. Gilbow.  It’s a classic extrapolation piece, where the solution to longevity taxes is Smooth Passing Inc., the modern version of the primitive practice of elderly tribe members who wandered off to die in the wilderness when they became burdensome.

Jack’s 94 years old, his time has come, and his daughter isn’t shedding any tears.  She’s not malicious, just impatient.  I love the weary mood and the solace Jack finds, though the final twist was jarring.

But the last story is the best.  “Finisterra,” by David Moles, is set on a gas giant with a breathable atmosphere (at the right pressure).  Archipelagos of giant floating creatures are prey for poachers and provide living space for outcasts.  Bianca, like her father, designs aircraft.  The criminal Valadez engages her to get one of the beasts, intact, into space, but as she learns more she begins to have second thoughts.

The characterization, flavor, and world creation are all top-notch.  The creatures themselves, and all the various flying machines, make me think of Hayao Miyazaki.  If he ever adapted “Finisterra” I’d love to see it.