Welcome back to Reading the Hugos, 2019 Edition! Today we are talking a look at the six finalists in the Short Story category.
Three of the stories here were on my nominating ballot (the Pinsker, Clark, and Gailey) and all of the writers here were familiar to me with the exception of Alix E. Harrow. Harrow was a revelation and now I'll be looking for more of her stories and for her debut novel later this year.
I'll mention this again later, but this is an absolutely stacked category. Wonderful stories. Let's take a look at them, shall we?
“The Court Magician,” by Sarah Pinsker (Lightspeed, January 2018)
“The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society,” by T. Kingfisher (Uncanny Magazine 25, November-December 2018)
“The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington,” by P. Djèlí Clark (Fireside Magazine, February 2018)
“STET,” by Sarah Gailey (Fireside Magazine, October 2018)
“The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters, and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat,” by Brooke Bolander (Uncanny Magazine 23, July-August 2018)
“A Witch’s Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies,” by Alix E. Harrow (Apex Magazine, February 2018)
The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society: This is an absolutely delightful and charming story of a group of supernatural males (selkies. faerie, pooka, etc) getting together for their annual meeting to discuss and pine for one Rose MacGregor, a human woman who was supposed to fall for their charms and instead left each of them heartbroken in turn. Stories from T. Kingfisher / Ursula Vernon are consistently excellent and this is no different. Lined up next to the other stories on this ballot, though, "The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society" is comparatively slight.
The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters: One gets the sense that this is a story which could only be written by Brooke Bolander. Fierce, smart, and driven, "The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters, and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat" is a strong story and Bolander captures as much as could be captured about getting into a raptor's perspective.
The Court Magician: Only in a category as stacked as Short Story is this year would it be possible for a Sarah Pinsker story to be this far down my ballot, but this an incredibly strong category filled with stories which could conceivably be a winner in any other year. It is a story of a desire to understand how magic works overpowering wisdom and like every story I've read from Pinsker it is impeccably written.
The Secret Lives of Nine Negro Teeth: I've long heard of George Washington's wooden teeth and for almost as long I've heard that that particular story might not be true. What I didn't learn about was that George Washington had purchased nine teeth from a dentist who took them from enslaved people. There is no evidence whether Washington wore the teeth in his own dentures or if they were used by someone else in his family, but Clark offers up nine stories of where those teeth originally came from.
There is power and pain in "The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington" that is inherent in the story being told and P Djeli Clark leans into that, bringing aspects of the fantastic into what is, at its core, a brutal subject. There's no softening here, nor should there be. Simply excellent.
A Witch's Guide to Escape: In a different year, a year that didn't have "STET", "A Witch's Guide to Escape" would be my pick for the best short story of the year. I also think it is a story that might hold up better in ten to twenty years than "STET", but the question here is what story is the best of 2018 and that is a nearly impossible conversation to have, except that we have it every year and try to figure it out.
"A Witch's Guide to Escape" reminds me a bit of Seanan McGuire's Wayward Children series in that it features a boy who desperately doesn't belong and so desperately needs to escape somehow. Except the story here is of a librarian who works to get kids the books they need, but except in those most extreme cases, perhaps not the book they really need.
I've never been the child in desperate need of escape. My life was never that hard. But I'm drawn to those stories because, like so many readers, I can identify with the edges of that child and it's what gives the story that extra bit of punch to really get the heart.
STET: I'm not as much of a historian of the Hugo Award as I think I'd like to be, but I'm not sure there has ever been a finalist on the ballot quite like "STET", one where the form of the story is as much a part of the conversation as the content of the story. Technically, this is a technical document with footnotes, but the story is in the footnotes and the back and forth further comments between the writer and the editor. "STET" is simmering with emotion and bubbling over rage and grief.
The format could be viewed as a gimmick, but there is so much (broken) heart here and while "STET" would likely work as a more conventional narrative, it is so much more vital because of the format. "STET" would be a different story without the format and it is stronger because of how Gailey chose to tell this story. It works. It is wrenching. It is the best thing I read last year.
My Vote
1. STET
2. A Witch's Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies
3. The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington
4. The Court Magician
5. The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters
6. The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society
Our Previous Coverage
Novel
Novella
Novelette
Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Showing posts with label Brooke Bolander. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brooke Bolander. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 5, 2019
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Reading the Hugos: Novelette
Welcome back for another edition of Reading the Hugos, 2019 Edition. Today we're going to take a look at the six finalists for Best Novelette.
Novelette is inherently a weird category. There's not really a substantial difference between a short story and a novelette, except that a novelette is just a little bit longer (but not as long as a novella, which really is a different form).
I would mention that only one work from my nominating ballot made the final ballot, but I only had one work on my nominating ballot - that being The Only Harmless Great Thing, a novelette I admired for how accomplished it was even if I wasn't fully passionate about it.
Last year's ballot had two stories connected to recent novels, but each of this year's stories stands fully alone. Shall we take a look at the stories on the ballot and see how they stand together?
“If at First You Don’t Succeed, Try, Try Again,” by Zen Cho (B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog, 29 November 2018)
“The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections,” by Tina Connolly (Tor.com, 11 July 2018)
“Nine Last Days on Planet Earth,” by Daryl Gregory (Tor.com, 19 September 2018)
The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander (Tor.com Publishing)
“The Thing About Ghost Stories,” by Naomi Kritzer (Uncanny Magazine 25, November- December 2018)
“When We Were Starless,” by Simone Heller (Clarkesworld 145, October 2018)
When We Were Starless: This is a somewhat peculiar story, mostly in the set up of a tribe of scavengers on a desolate planet haunted by ghosts. I found that set up far less interesting than the idea of the tribe (eventually) being brave enough to adapt and overcome their superstitions. I also appreciated the touches of gradually revealing this is a post humanity world (whether it is Mars or Earth or something else is unclear) which leads to the reader picking up on what the ghosts are long before Mink (the protagonist) does.
The more I think about "When We Were Starless", the more I appreciate the work Simone Heller does here - I wanted to put the story down very early and move on to something else, but I'm glad I held on.
The Thing About Ghost Stories: I get the feeling that I should read more stories from Naomi Kritzer because every one I have read has been absolutely wonderful. The title here tells the story, "The Thing About Ghost Stories" is a story about ghost stories, but it is also a story about being told ghost stories and about memory and loss. Kritzer builds and builds and by the end, "The Thing About Ghost Stories" is all heart.
This is a lovely story, though I'm not sure its richness really holds up in comparison to the other stories on this ballot.
The Only Harmless Great Thing: I find myself in the minority regarding my lack of appreciation for The Only Harmless Great Thing. There was no question that this was going to one of the year's biggest and most notable stories and which would likely be in contention for all of the awards, but my first reading of the story left me flat. Not that my connection is essential for a story's success, but I didn't get what Bolander was doing with The Only Harmless Great Thing.
It took a second reading, after the announcement of the Hugo Award finalists, for me to engage more with the story Bolander was telling even if I still couldn't love it as much as its more full throated supporters.. For what it is worth, when Shana DuBois reviewed The Only Harmless Great Thing she said "there is not a single wasted word in this treatise of perfection" and that "Bolander's prose is some of the best I've ever read. Period. It is artful and sharp as a razor's edge." The Only Harmless Great Thing won the Nebula Award this year for Best Novelette. (Shana's review)
If at First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again: I like to consider myself fairly well informed with the state of the science fiction and fantasy field, but I somehow missed that the Barnes and Nobles blog was also publishing short fiction - though if my math (and their tagging system) is correct, Zen Cho's story is only the fifth they've published and one of only two in 2018.
"If At First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again" features an imugi (a giant serpent) trying and failing over thousands of years to turn itself into a full fledged dragon. It is a delightful and charming story about perseverance, love, and self belief with an absolutely perfect ending. If this is the sort of story the B&N SFF Blog publishes, I'd like to see more from them.
The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections: What a beautifully constructed story. Much of "The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections" is, in fact, told across one meal - but the temporal part of the title is important, because each course brings with it the transportation of memory, allowing Connolly to work flashbacks and a slight episodic format within what is otherwise a traditional narrative flow.
If not for "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth", this would be my clear favorite of the novelette finalists. The blending of food, memory, and vengeance is satisfying and excellent. I have somehow missed Tina Connolly's career up to this point, but I fully intend to catch up with her work.
Nine Last Days on Planet Earth: Told in nine episodes spread across some eighty seven years, Daryl Gregory's "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is not the story of a different sort of an alien invasion, though it is also that. Initially, it seems to be dealing more with a boy growing up, but the passage of time means that "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is more about life, of loss, of grief, of heartbreak, of change, and really of humanity. And yes, with alien plants invading and gradually taking over the planet with the speed of plants.
"Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is a beautiful, moving story. Absolutely lovely. More of this, please.
My Vote
1. Nine Last Days of Planet Earth
2. The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections
3. If at First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again
4. The Only Harmless Great Thing
5. The Thing About Ghost Stories
6. When We Were Starless
Our Previous Coverage
Novel
Novella
Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Novelette is inherently a weird category. There's not really a substantial difference between a short story and a novelette, except that a novelette is just a little bit longer (but not as long as a novella, which really is a different form).
I would mention that only one work from my nominating ballot made the final ballot, but I only had one work on my nominating ballot - that being The Only Harmless Great Thing, a novelette I admired for how accomplished it was even if I wasn't fully passionate about it.
Last year's ballot had two stories connected to recent novels, but each of this year's stories stands fully alone. Shall we take a look at the stories on the ballot and see how they stand together?
“If at First You Don’t Succeed, Try, Try Again,” by Zen Cho (B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog, 29 November 2018)
“The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections,” by Tina Connolly (Tor.com, 11 July 2018)
“Nine Last Days on Planet Earth,” by Daryl Gregory (Tor.com, 19 September 2018)
The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander (Tor.com Publishing)
“The Thing About Ghost Stories,” by Naomi Kritzer (Uncanny Magazine 25, November- December 2018)
“When We Were Starless,” by Simone Heller (Clarkesworld 145, October 2018)
When We Were Starless: This is a somewhat peculiar story, mostly in the set up of a tribe of scavengers on a desolate planet haunted by ghosts. I found that set up far less interesting than the idea of the tribe (eventually) being brave enough to adapt and overcome their superstitions. I also appreciated the touches of gradually revealing this is a post humanity world (whether it is Mars or Earth or something else is unclear) which leads to the reader picking up on what the ghosts are long before Mink (the protagonist) does.
The more I think about "When We Were Starless", the more I appreciate the work Simone Heller does here - I wanted to put the story down very early and move on to something else, but I'm glad I held on.
The Thing About Ghost Stories: I get the feeling that I should read more stories from Naomi Kritzer because every one I have read has been absolutely wonderful. The title here tells the story, "The Thing About Ghost Stories" is a story about ghost stories, but it is also a story about being told ghost stories and about memory and loss. Kritzer builds and builds and by the end, "The Thing About Ghost Stories" is all heart.
This is a lovely story, though I'm not sure its richness really holds up in comparison to the other stories on this ballot.
The Only Harmless Great Thing: I find myself in the minority regarding my lack of appreciation for The Only Harmless Great Thing. There was no question that this was going to one of the year's biggest and most notable stories and which would likely be in contention for all of the awards, but my first reading of the story left me flat. Not that my connection is essential for a story's success, but I didn't get what Bolander was doing with The Only Harmless Great Thing.
It took a second reading, after the announcement of the Hugo Award finalists, for me to engage more with the story Bolander was telling even if I still couldn't love it as much as its more full throated supporters.. For what it is worth, when Shana DuBois reviewed The Only Harmless Great Thing she said "there is not a single wasted word in this treatise of perfection" and that "Bolander's prose is some of the best I've ever read. Period. It is artful and sharp as a razor's edge." The Only Harmless Great Thing won the Nebula Award this year for Best Novelette. (Shana's review)
If at First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again: I like to consider myself fairly well informed with the state of the science fiction and fantasy field, but I somehow missed that the Barnes and Nobles blog was also publishing short fiction - though if my math (and their tagging system) is correct, Zen Cho's story is only the fifth they've published and one of only two in 2018.
"If At First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again" features an imugi (a giant serpent) trying and failing over thousands of years to turn itself into a full fledged dragon. It is a delightful and charming story about perseverance, love, and self belief with an absolutely perfect ending. If this is the sort of story the B&N SFF Blog publishes, I'd like to see more from them.
The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections: What a beautifully constructed story. Much of "The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections" is, in fact, told across one meal - but the temporal part of the title is important, because each course brings with it the transportation of memory, allowing Connolly to work flashbacks and a slight episodic format within what is otherwise a traditional narrative flow.
If not for "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth", this would be my clear favorite of the novelette finalists. The blending of food, memory, and vengeance is satisfying and excellent. I have somehow missed Tina Connolly's career up to this point, but I fully intend to catch up with her work.
Nine Last Days on Planet Earth: Told in nine episodes spread across some eighty seven years, Daryl Gregory's "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is not the story of a different sort of an alien invasion, though it is also that. Initially, it seems to be dealing more with a boy growing up, but the passage of time means that "Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is more about life, of loss, of grief, of heartbreak, of change, and really of humanity. And yes, with alien plants invading and gradually taking over the planet with the speed of plants.
"Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" is a beautiful, moving story. Absolutely lovely. More of this, please.
My Vote
1. Nine Last Days of Planet Earth
2. The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections
3. If at First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try Again
4. The Only Harmless Great Thing
5. The Thing About Ghost Stories
6. When We Were Starless
Our Previous Coverage
Novel
Novella
Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Monday, June 4, 2018
Summer Reading List 2018: Adri
As has already been pointed out, summer as an adult not in education is generally not the glorious stretch of uninterrupted reading time it might once have been. In fact, this year, I’m expecting to get even busier with work and family during summer, so reading is likely to go down, rather than up - although for the best of reasons! I'm preparing to be strategic with the time I do have, which means making a list that cuts through some of the pressure and “I should be reading this” feelings from the TBR and figuring out what I actually want to get to in the next couple of months.
1. Clockwork Boys, by T Kingfisher
This is the first in a closely-linked duology from the amazing Ursula Vernon who writes her adult novels under the above “vaguely absurd” pseudonym. I understand it’s inspired to some extent by her D&D adventures, which makes me even more excited based on the D&D snippets that cross her Twitter feed – I’m hoping there might be a talking dog wizard? Whatever the plot, I’m sure it’s going to contain the kind of warm, practical adventurers that make Vernon’s work so compelling.
2. Record of a Spaceborn Few, by Becky Chambers
Becky Chambers captured my heart with her Wayfarers universe, where humans have reached the stars and co-exist alongside a range of diverse but sympathetic alien races. One of my favourite aspects of her galaxy is that it’s not the militarised aspects of human society that get to go to space and define who we are, but the pacifists – and, to my great excitement, this looks to be a chronicle of how those original humans got up there.
3. Discount Armageddon, by Seanan McGuire
Seanan McGuire was my big personal discovery last year, after October Daye landed on the Hugo series finalists and I went from sceptical to hooked in the space of three volumes. This year, McGuire’s somewhat shorter (that is, six books within eligibility) InCryptid series is on the ballot, and I’m intrigued to see whether I have the same experience with what is apparently a more lighthearted urban fantasy series with an intriguing premise.
4. Delusions of Gender, by Cordelia Fine
Cordelia Fine’s Testosterone Rex blew me away last year – it’s the kind of pop science that’s completely up my alley, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so very funny. Delusions of Gender is an earlier book of hers, and one that I feel I should have read before now. If it’s the same style, this will be a witty and informative non-fiction read perfect for squeezing between fiction titles.
5. Ship of Magic, by Robin Hobb
Robin Hobb's Liveship Traders trilogy was probably the first adult fantasy I read, 18 years ago (though ironically, I was teased at the time by my friends for reading a book with such a "silly" Enid Blyton-esque title). One mostly-completed transition to adulthood later, I’m slowly rereading the first two trilogies in Hobb’s wider Elderlings universe as part of a LibraryThing group read. This has been a fun experience so far, and I’m particularly interested to see what definitely-too-young-to-be-reading-this me missed in this trilogy the first time around.
6. The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander
I’ve already got quite a few 2018 novellas to catch up on (Aliette de Bodard, Kelly Robson and Margaret Killjoy are all very close to the top of the TBR), but The Only Harmless Great Thing is the earliest chronologically and also one of the most intriguing. It intertwines the story of the Radium Girls, factory workers who were slowly poisoned by the radioactive elements they worked with, and an early 20th century experiment where an elephant was killed by electrocution. By all accounts, my Twitter feed loved this, and I’m a fan of Bolander’s shorter work, so I’m excited to finally catch up with this longer piece.
1. Clockwork Boys, by T KingfisherThis is the first in a closely-linked duology from the amazing Ursula Vernon who writes her adult novels under the above “vaguely absurd” pseudonym. I understand it’s inspired to some extent by her D&D adventures, which makes me even more excited based on the D&D snippets that cross her Twitter feed – I’m hoping there might be a talking dog wizard? Whatever the plot, I’m sure it’s going to contain the kind of warm, practical adventurers that make Vernon’s work so compelling.
2. Record of a Spaceborn Few, by Becky Chambers Becky Chambers captured my heart with her Wayfarers universe, where humans have reached the stars and co-exist alongside a range of diverse but sympathetic alien races. One of my favourite aspects of her galaxy is that it’s not the militarised aspects of human society that get to go to space and define who we are, but the pacifists – and, to my great excitement, this looks to be a chronicle of how those original humans got up there.
3. Discount Armageddon, by Seanan McGuire Seanan McGuire was my big personal discovery last year, after October Daye landed on the Hugo series finalists and I went from sceptical to hooked in the space of three volumes. This year, McGuire’s somewhat shorter (that is, six books within eligibility) InCryptid series is on the ballot, and I’m intrigued to see whether I have the same experience with what is apparently a more lighthearted urban fantasy series with an intriguing premise.
4. Delusions of Gender, by Cordelia Fine
Cordelia Fine’s Testosterone Rex blew me away last year – it’s the kind of pop science that’s completely up my alley, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so very funny. Delusions of Gender is an earlier book of hers, and one that I feel I should have read before now. If it’s the same style, this will be a witty and informative non-fiction read perfect for squeezing between fiction titles.
5. Ship of Magic, by Robin Hobb Robin Hobb's Liveship Traders trilogy was probably the first adult fantasy I read, 18 years ago (though ironically, I was teased at the time by my friends for reading a book with such a "silly" Enid Blyton-esque title). One mostly-completed transition to adulthood later, I’m slowly rereading the first two trilogies in Hobb’s wider Elderlings universe as part of a LibraryThing group read. This has been a fun experience so far, and I’m particularly interested to see what definitely-too-young-to-be-reading-this me missed in this trilogy the first time around.
6. The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander I’ve already got quite a few 2018 novellas to catch up on (Aliette de Bodard, Kelly Robson and Margaret Killjoy are all very close to the top of the TBR), but The Only Harmless Great Thing is the earliest chronologically and also one of the most intriguing. It intertwines the story of the Radium Girls, factory workers who were slowly poisoned by the radioactive elements they worked with, and an early 20th century experiment where an elephant was killed by electrocution. By all accounts, my Twitter feed loved this, and I’m a fan of Bolander’s shorter work, so I’m excited to finally catch up with this longer piece.
POSTED BY: Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in
the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming,
baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Microreview [novella]: The Only Harmless Great Thing by Brooke Bolander
There is not a single wasted word in this treatise of perfection.
I love going into a book, or in this case a novella, knowing as little as possible. I might know the general premise, a plot point or two, but generally that's about it. Occasionally, I'll have seen a title recommended by people with similar reading tastes.
In this instance, I tuned into Brooke Bolander's writing later than most. I first came across it when I saw her story, "And You Shall Know Her By The Trail Of Dead," in Lightspeed, February 2015. I knew then I'd be a fan for life and to keep an eye out for any and all new stories.
When I started hearing talk surrounding The Only Harmless Great Thing I knew even less than I normally would because I purposely wanted to go into the story and be surprised. I'd heard references to the radium girls and elephants but I dipped out of any conversation going beyond that. But I should tell you a bit more, that is why you're here after all.
This is an alternate history novella set in Newark, New Jersey taking two historical events, the radiation poisoning of female factory workers and the public execution by electricity of an Indian elephant on Coney Island. Bolander weaves these events into something wholly new and heart-wrenching.
With Bolander's writing, you never know quite where she's going to take you but one thing is always certain, the journey is going to be exquisite.
Bolander's prose is some of the best I've ever read. Period. It is artful and sharp as a razor's edge. Allow me to give you a visual representation of Bolander's writing in my mind:
That's right. I needed a picture from the Hubble telescope. Her writing makes me feel grounded and weightless, as though the ending she provides seems the only possible ending while at the same time I feel the world is nothing but endless possibility.
This novella is not typical anything. It is not a standard scifi adventure, it isn't a literary gem, it isn't any one thing because it is everything.
There is not a single wasted word in this treatise of perfection. Sometimes you read a novella and lament it is not book-length. The Only Harmless Great Thing could only ever be what it is and Bolander nails it. Despite it's brevity you get to know Kat, the scientist, Regan, one of the radium girls turned elephant handler, and Topsy the elephant. My cherished Topsy.
The cast is kept at a minimum to tell Topsy's story and we jump between the narrative timelines as the story progresses. It is never jarring as we switch between points-of-view and timelines, the prose flows like a river.
It might not be the story most genre or sci-fi readers expect when they pick up a a novella from Tor.com, but maybe it should be. Maybe we need more gut-punching, heart-wrenching, definition-defying, stories in the world. I know I'm hoping for more.
The Math:
Baseline Assessment: 10/10
Bonuses: Read it!
Penalties: None from me!
Nerd Coefficient: 10/10 -- this novella is my new gold standard for what a story can be and do.
***
POSTED BY: Shana DuBois--extreme bibliophile and seeker of raindrops.
Reference: Bolander, Brooke. The Only Harmless Great Thing [Tor.com, 2017]
Our scoring system explained.
I love going into a book, or in this case a novella, knowing as little as possible. I might know the general premise, a plot point or two, but generally that's about it. Occasionally, I'll have seen a title recommended by people with similar reading tastes.
In this instance, I tuned into Brooke Bolander's writing later than most. I first came across it when I saw her story, "And You Shall Know Her By The Trail Of Dead," in Lightspeed, February 2015. I knew then I'd be a fan for life and to keep an eye out for any and all new stories.
When I started hearing talk surrounding The Only Harmless Great Thing I knew even less than I normally would because I purposely wanted to go into the story and be surprised. I'd heard references to the radium girls and elephants but I dipped out of any conversation going beyond that. But I should tell you a bit more, that is why you're here after all.
This is an alternate history novella set in Newark, New Jersey taking two historical events, the radiation poisoning of female factory workers and the public execution by electricity of an Indian elephant on Coney Island. Bolander weaves these events into something wholly new and heart-wrenching.
With Bolander's writing, you never know quite where she's going to take you but one thing is always certain, the journey is going to be exquisite.
Bolander's prose is some of the best I've ever read. Period. It is artful and sharp as a razor's edge. Allow me to give you a visual representation of Bolander's writing in my mind:
That's right. I needed a picture from the Hubble telescope. Her writing makes me feel grounded and weightless, as though the ending she provides seems the only possible ending while at the same time I feel the world is nothing but endless possibility.
This novella is not typical anything. It is not a standard scifi adventure, it isn't a literary gem, it isn't any one thing because it is everything.
There is not a single wasted word in this treatise of perfection. Sometimes you read a novella and lament it is not book-length. The Only Harmless Great Thing could only ever be what it is and Bolander nails it. Despite it's brevity you get to know Kat, the scientist, Regan, one of the radium girls turned elephant handler, and Topsy the elephant. My cherished Topsy.
The cast is kept at a minimum to tell Topsy's story and we jump between the narrative timelines as the story progresses. It is never jarring as we switch between points-of-view and timelines, the prose flows like a river.
It might not be the story most genre or sci-fi readers expect when they pick up a a novella from Tor.com, but maybe it should be. Maybe we need more gut-punching, heart-wrenching, definition-defying, stories in the world. I know I'm hoping for more.
The Math:
Baseline Assessment: 10/10
Bonuses: Read it!
Penalties: None from me!
Nerd Coefficient: 10/10 -- this novella is my new gold standard for what a story can be and do.
***
POSTED BY: Shana DuBois--extreme bibliophile and seeker of raindrops.
Reference: Bolander, Brooke. The Only Harmless Great Thing [Tor.com, 2017]
Our scoring system explained.
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Reading the Hugos: Short Story
Welcome to another edition of Reading the Hugos! Today we are going to take a look at the Short Story on this year's ballot. Astute readers of Nerds of a Feather will note that two of the stories I nominated are on the final ballot: "The City Born Great" and "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies". I was unfamiliar with the rest, and I note that John C. Wright's story on the ballot is the annual Rabid Puppies pick that comes across so completely out of sync with the rest of the ballot that once again I am reminded they don't care at all about finding the best stories but instead care about getting their own people on the ballot for no better reason than to a) follow the whims of the slate leader and b) to mess with those who care about the Hugo Awards (we'll talk more about this when we get to the novelette category). I don't doubt at all there are lots of readers who truly love Wright's fiction and this story in particular, but given that the nominations come in lock step with a particular slate, I can't say that I have any faith that the quality of fiction is a driving motivator for the nomination.
I'm also more than annoyed that I have to address this each year when writing about the Hugo Awards, but at least this year it is one work per category and not all categories.
Enough. On to the stories!
“The City Born Great”, by N. K. Jemisin (Tor.com, September 2016)
“A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers”, by Alyssa Wong (Tor.com, March 2016)
“Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies”, by Brooke Bolander (Uncanny Magazine, November 2016)
“Seasons of Glass and Iron”, by Amal El-Mohtar (The Starlit Wood: New Fairy Tales, Saga Press)
“That Game We Played During the War”, by Carrie Vaughn (Tor.com, March 2016)
“An Unimaginable Light”, by John C. Wright (God, Robot, Castalia House)
An Unimaginable Light: Imagine a thought experiment dealing with the nature of being human by playing with the nature of robots and mix in some casual sexism and some standard right wing talking points. Then, imagine the story is even more didactic and poorly written than it sounds and you have the beginning of what John C. Wright's awful "An Unimaginable Light" is. The reality is so much worse. Rich Horton notes that much of the context for the story is tied to Wright's collection God, Robot and perhaps it would read very differently in that context, but coming into the story as a discrete piece of fiction I can only say that it is bad. It is not worthy of being considered for the Hugo Award.
No Award: As a general rule, I use No Award in a very surgical manner. I understand that not every work is to my personal taste and that simply because I do not like something does not mean that it is inherently bad or unworthy of a Hugo Award. I may prefer that something else would win and that a particular work was not on the ballot, but again, that does make the work bad. Unfortunately, there are also instances where my subjective view is that the work is so bad that it is also objectively bad and unworthy of receiving (or being considered for) an award. There may also be examples of a work being so bad it comes out the other side and is somehow entertaining. In both of these instances No Award will be used.
The City Born Great:We've all heard cities described as a living, vibrant place - one where anything is possible and where the city itself has a personality beyond just the people who live there. That the people take on some of the attributes of the city. Well, what if some cities really are alive? What if people had to fight to keep their city alive, to help usher in the full flame of life to make a city truly great while other entities are fighting to destroy it? "The City Born Great" feels like a love letter to New York City and even though I haven't lived there since I was twelve and the older I get the happier I am to be away from cities, that love letter resonates. While I think "The City Born Great" could work if it was set in Chicago or maybe even Minneapolis, there is a greater importance to the story because it is New York.
Seasons of Glass and Iron: Winner of the Nebula Award. Take a few fairy tales, blend together with love and a dash of women rescuing each other and serve warm. Amal El-Mohtar's "Seasons of Glass and Iron" is a charming fable of two women from very different stories finding each other and discovering how their stories might intersect, intertwine, and move on together. It doesn't quite stand up as strong as the three stories higher on my ballot, but it is a delightful story I'm glad I had the opportunity to read.
A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers. This is a wrenching story of family and loss, of tragedy and the inability to cope. It's told through the perspective of Hannah and it can be read either as a straight up retelling of what happened through the use of a supernatural ability that Hannah and her sister Melanie had, or it can be read as Hannah working out her grief over and over and over in her head trying and failing to come to grips with her sister's murder. The actual story may be somewhere in between, but the truth in the fiction is in the repetition of trying to come up with a way that Melanie can come out of this alive and in the painful reveals of Melanie's life. "You can't fix this. It was never yours to control". It's beautiful and stabs you right in the heart.
Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies: Brooke Bolander has a story about stories. Her narrator has this to say late in the story, "The important thing is always the stories—which ones get told, which ones get co–opted, which ones get left in a ditch, overlooked and neglected. This is my story, not his. It belongs to me and is mine alone." This is a hard, angry story - but an important one because it is quite bluntly not about an attacker or even so much about the attack. It's about the victim and who she really is and what the consequences were. "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" is a punch in the face, possibly in the balls. It is reminiscent, in a way, of Rachel Swirsky's excellent "If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love" in its brevity melded with righteous anger rising against unrighteous violence. The stories are told with very different tone, but hit similar marks. Like Swirsky's story, "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" is a standout piece of short fiction.
That Game We Played During the War: It can be said there are no new stories under the sun, and stories of the price of war paid by soldiers and how soldiers on opposite sides of the war can find common ground and even friendship certainly are frequent subjects for fiction. What matters, then, is how well the story is told. Carrie Vaughn's story is well told, indeed. The war isn't what is importance, the story here is a medic from one side traveling to what was once enemy territory to visit an officer who may well be a friend. The story is primarily told from the perspective of Calla, the medic, and we are given glimpses of how the two met and interacted during the war and we see what years of war has cost Calla. It is beautifully told, moving, and is continually necessary as a reminder that while war may be waged by nations, it is fought by people. It is conducted on the ground level by those who may not be all that different from those they are fighting against.
My Ballot
1. That Game We Played During the War
2. Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies
3. A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers
4. Seasons of Glass and Iron
5. The City Born Great
6. No Award
Please feel free to look at our previous coverage:
Novella
Graphic Story
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.
I'm also more than annoyed that I have to address this each year when writing about the Hugo Awards, but at least this year it is one work per category and not all categories.
Enough. On to the stories!
“The City Born Great”, by N. K. Jemisin (Tor.com, September 2016)
“A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers”, by Alyssa Wong (Tor.com, March 2016)
“Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies”, by Brooke Bolander (Uncanny Magazine, November 2016)
“Seasons of Glass and Iron”, by Amal El-Mohtar (The Starlit Wood: New Fairy Tales, Saga Press)
“That Game We Played During the War”, by Carrie Vaughn (Tor.com, March 2016)
“An Unimaginable Light”, by John C. Wright (God, Robot, Castalia House)
An Unimaginable Light: Imagine a thought experiment dealing with the nature of being human by playing with the nature of robots and mix in some casual sexism and some standard right wing talking points. Then, imagine the story is even more didactic and poorly written than it sounds and you have the beginning of what John C. Wright's awful "An Unimaginable Light" is. The reality is so much worse. Rich Horton notes that much of the context for the story is tied to Wright's collection God, Robot and perhaps it would read very differently in that context, but coming into the story as a discrete piece of fiction I can only say that it is bad. It is not worthy of being considered for the Hugo Award.
No Award: As a general rule, I use No Award in a very surgical manner. I understand that not every work is to my personal taste and that simply because I do not like something does not mean that it is inherently bad or unworthy of a Hugo Award. I may prefer that something else would win and that a particular work was not on the ballot, but again, that does make the work bad. Unfortunately, there are also instances where my subjective view is that the work is so bad that it is also objectively bad and unworthy of receiving (or being considered for) an award. There may also be examples of a work being so bad it comes out the other side and is somehow entertaining. In both of these instances No Award will be used.
The City Born Great:We've all heard cities described as a living, vibrant place - one where anything is possible and where the city itself has a personality beyond just the people who live there. That the people take on some of the attributes of the city. Well, what if some cities really are alive? What if people had to fight to keep their city alive, to help usher in the full flame of life to make a city truly great while other entities are fighting to destroy it? "The City Born Great" feels like a love letter to New York City and even though I haven't lived there since I was twelve and the older I get the happier I am to be away from cities, that love letter resonates. While I think "The City Born Great" could work if it was set in Chicago or maybe even Minneapolis, there is a greater importance to the story because it is New York.
Seasons of Glass and Iron: Winner of the Nebula Award. Take a few fairy tales, blend together with love and a dash of women rescuing each other and serve warm. Amal El-Mohtar's "Seasons of Glass and Iron" is a charming fable of two women from very different stories finding each other and discovering how their stories might intersect, intertwine, and move on together. It doesn't quite stand up as strong as the three stories higher on my ballot, but it is a delightful story I'm glad I had the opportunity to read.
A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers. This is a wrenching story of family and loss, of tragedy and the inability to cope. It's told through the perspective of Hannah and it can be read either as a straight up retelling of what happened through the use of a supernatural ability that Hannah and her sister Melanie had, or it can be read as Hannah working out her grief over and over and over in her head trying and failing to come to grips with her sister's murder. The actual story may be somewhere in between, but the truth in the fiction is in the repetition of trying to come up with a way that Melanie can come out of this alive and in the painful reveals of Melanie's life. "You can't fix this. It was never yours to control". It's beautiful and stabs you right in the heart.
Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies: Brooke Bolander has a story about stories. Her narrator has this to say late in the story, "The important thing is always the stories—which ones get told, which ones get co–opted, which ones get left in a ditch, overlooked and neglected. This is my story, not his. It belongs to me and is mine alone." This is a hard, angry story - but an important one because it is quite bluntly not about an attacker or even so much about the attack. It's about the victim and who she really is and what the consequences were. "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" is a punch in the face, possibly in the balls. It is reminiscent, in a way, of Rachel Swirsky's excellent "If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love" in its brevity melded with righteous anger rising against unrighteous violence. The stories are told with very different tone, but hit similar marks. Like Swirsky's story, "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" is a standout piece of short fiction.
That Game We Played During the War: It can be said there are no new stories under the sun, and stories of the price of war paid by soldiers and how soldiers on opposite sides of the war can find common ground and even friendship certainly are frequent subjects for fiction. What matters, then, is how well the story is told. Carrie Vaughn's story is well told, indeed. The war isn't what is importance, the story here is a medic from one side traveling to what was once enemy territory to visit an officer who may well be a friend. The story is primarily told from the perspective of Calla, the medic, and we are given glimpses of how the two met and interacted during the war and we see what years of war has cost Calla. It is beautifully told, moving, and is continually necessary as a reminder that while war may be waged by nations, it is fought by people. It is conducted on the ground level by those who may not be all that different from those they are fighting against.
My Ballot
1. That Game We Played During the War
2. Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies
3. A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers
4. Seasons of Glass and Iron
5. The City Born Great
6. No Award
Please feel free to look at our previous coverage:
Novella
Graphic Story
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.
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