Fantasy & Science Fiction: January 2008
March 13, 2008 by Andy
The January 2008 issue is dominated by stories revolving around simple conceits (not that there’s anything wrong with simple conceits–it’s simplicity and conceit that are dangerous). The standout is the one piece where the conceit fully receded behind the story and characters: Alex Irvine’s “Mystery Hill.”
Ken runs a roadside attraction where debunkers and crackpots make their diametric pilgrimages to observe the laws of nature violated by water flowing uphill. He’s content running his tourist trap, making wry commentary about his visitors and his rural neighbors. An unconventional young physics professor named Fara starts poking around and together they find some startling answers behind the odd roadkill on US-12 and the weird hooch Little Boozy has been selling local kids.
It’s a playful story, with amusing but recognizable characters. I loved Ken, sympathized with his infatuation for Fara, and found the whole idea delightfully wacky. Most of all I came away impressed with Irvine’s voice and versatility. It’s a slobberknocker of a story, even if the ending doesn’t fully satisfy, and right now Irvine’s is the name I’m happiest to see on the covers of F&SF when they come to my door.
Among the other stories, “Mars: A Traveler’s Guide” by Ruth Nestvold is an extreme example of the conceit dominating the story. In fact there is no story, only the hint of one glimpsed through the entries accessed on a traveler’s encyclopedia of Mars. A clever bit of work.
“The Twilight Year” by Sean McMullen gives a new take on the roots of the King Arthur legend. I didn’t find the narrative voice particularly graceful, but the characters and setting were well done, and the idea, if not a new invention, feels fresh in its application to King Arthur.
There are a lot of things wrong with the world. If you could, which would you fix? The War in Iraq? The environment? Or is there some cosmic travesty you’d be compelled to prevent, like the capitulation to the critics offered in place of a worthy sequel to Conan the Barbarian?
Michaela Roessner poses the question in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and when the brains at Berkeley team up with the Department of Defense, who knows what’s possible? The result is a popcorn story, but Roessner can certainly write.
I’m comfortable enough in my manhood to admit I’m not immune to Jane Austen’s appeal. Which is not to say I wouldn’t prefer a dash of danger and testosterone in her books. And maybe a monster.
It could have started as an undergraduate’s writing exercise or as a response to one of F&SF’s competitions, but in “Pride and Prometheus” John Kessel merges Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein in a way that rings true to Austen, to Shelley, and to Kessel (though he did re-envision Mary to be a foil for Frankenstein).
More than just a writing game, this fully works as a story and bears up under its weighty title. While it never feels like showboating it’s a memorable show of prowess on Kessel’s part. Only Irvine’s story is better.
In his review column Charles de Lint tackles Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows after mentioning that book five, Order of the Phoenix, dragged for him. Like most in the business, de Lint looks at Rowling with respect but a total absence of awe. Qualms about her writing aside, he calls her a “born storyteller” and suggests that Harry Potter was the last universal entertainment experience for today’s splintered culture. Universal minus me–I also had trouble with the fifth book, but I never went any farther.
Kathi Maio’s review of the film adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s Stardust aptly enumerates the movie’s problems. But my favorite line was her observation that adults are not more sophisticated than children, only more jaundiced.
The cartoons in F&SF aren’t always worthwhile, but I got a kick out of all three in this issue, especially J.P. Rini’s “art for art’s sake” cave paintings on p.29.