REVIEW: May 9, 2018

Expression Theory, by Megan Mayhew Bergman.

I found this story towards the end of a book titled Almost Famous Women, which takes a fictitious and creative look at, you guessed it, women who nearly became famous in one way or another. You can secure your own copy here or here, if you’re interested. Personally, I discovered this anthology in a local used-bookstore, so always make sure to check out stores near you, as well.

In this particular case, we witness L—Lucia Joyce, daughter of James Joyce and Nora Barnacle—doing her best to express herself while arguing with her mother. The deeper L dives into her mental well of creativity, the more she feels the urge to move—and the less impressed her mother gets.

I have mixed feelings about this one. The imagery L creates is stunning, beautiful, slightly sensual, vivid. The way the conversation happens while she tries to stay tied to her thoughts, I think, unfolds in a very natural way. Neither she not her mother feel like they are true enemies of one another—rather, they just live in different worlds. Different lifestyles. They couldn’t possibly understand each other. And that, I think, is very clear.

On the other hand, the author’s notes on this story tell me she intended to capture the moment when L’s parents decided she had to be sent to an asylum. As far as mental illness goes, I’m no expert in schizophrenic tendencies, but from my perspective it was hard to see anything explicitly wrong with L. She definitely had psychological problems, true, but she seemed like any other creative type to me. Feeling trapped in a non-creative environment is one thing, but being trapped in your own thoughts is another. It could be I’m misinterpreting something, however, so feel free to make your own judgments on that front.

Though I understand the desire to stay away from characterizing James Joyce himself, I felt the story could have improved if we had seen him involved in some way. Again, though, I understand that could lead to some complications, and an even blurrier line between fiction and history, so it’s less of a proper criticism and more just about personal taste.

Still, the language was lovely and the story itself carried nicely. Overall, I think I have to give this one a 3 out of 5. It was a fantastic idea, but I don’t think it came together quite as neatly as I would have preferred. Definitely check it out, however, if you’re into feminism, metaphors, or artistic expressionism.

REVIEW: May 9, 2018

An Army of Bees, by Caroline Yoachim.

This short story is edited by Brian J. White and brought to you by Fireside Magazine, which hosts a wonderful selection of all kinds of fiction. Though they gravitate towards the speculative, this story—which you can read for free here—only touches the edges of science-fiction.

Incredibly briefly, this tale is about nanobots doing their best to fight off a sickness in the narrator, who explains to their child that the nanobots are bees that attack bad cells.

It was impossible not to be completely captivated by this tale. Not only the way it was told, which was in a straightforward and almost innocent way. But in what was being told, as well. The highly emotional nature of the story really pulled everything else together into an epicentre of excellence. The author upheld a level of detail that was not too much nor too little—exactly what the narrative called for. We learned enough of the narrator and their child to feel attached, even in this short collection of words. The child’s honest and innocuous nature sold the story strongly, boosting the details in the narration with details of their own.

The way time was kept pulled the story forward without getting lost. Everything kept constantly moving and yet the pacing didn’t feel any more rushed than it needed to be. By the time the child is heading to their first day of kindergarten, my heart was breaking in the sweetest way possible and I knew what I was about to read next—a fact that did not change my enjoyment of this story in any way.

In all honesty, you can probably already guess how this one ends. And I assure you that so long as you feel something in your heart, you’ll have your breath stolen away by this beautiful tale.

I know my review are usually a bit longer but I don’t want to give away too much. I think this is one that everyone should read, regardless of what you normally read. There will be some part of this tale you connect with in one way or another. As you might expect, I give this 5 out of 5, and I’m looking forward to discovering more of Caroline Yoachim’s works in the future.

REVIEW: April 25, 2018

Run of the Fiery Horse, by Hilary Moon Murphy.

First off, I want to make it clear that I listened to this story as a podcast, which you can find here on podcastle.org. I bring this up simply because, without actually reading it, I can only guess at some spellings of names and the like. But without further ado: a quick summary and my thoughts on the story.

Li Chi is a young girl in China who was born in the year of the fire horse. There is superstition surrounding women born of that year, that they are too strong-willed, too independent, and if they ever do get married, they end up killing their husbands.

Tsi Sha is a dream-twisting snake hungry for humans, and he has preferences for persons born in certain years over others. You can guess where this is going. He begins hunting Li Chi, though he cannot decide whether to eat her sooner, or later.  And so, not wanting to risk ruining her flavour by having her “break”, he decides to give her the choice.

My general impression was overall positive. I went into the story with some expectation that I wouldn’t fully understand it, as I’m not expert in Chinese mythology, but I was pleasantly surprised to find out I didn’t need much to go on. I think, even without the introduction at the beginning, the story itself explained just enough for me to understand without giving too heavy an exposition.

I did find it came on a little strong in typecasting the characters as their zodiac animals, but I suppose that’s what the story’s about, after all. They just felt a little flatter than I would have liked, though they were still interesting. Surprisingly, my favourite character was Li Chi’s father.  The parts from his perspective were quite interesting.

That being said, Tsi Sha really stood out as a villain, powerful, clever, chilling, and yet still utterly controlled by his hunger. I loved the way he had telltale signs of being in someone’s dreams, if they were clever enough themselves to put it together.

Probably my only other gripe is that sometimes the story was so caught up in the imagery that it felt a little drawn-out at times—and I’m not sure this would have even been an issue if I’d been reading it rather than listening. Despite that, it was enjoyably visual and easy to see in the mind’s eye.

In short, I give the story 4 out of 5. The writing was just as strong as the fire horse herself, and if I’m being honest, the tale left quite an impression on me. I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who loves a good villain, or who wants to dip their toes into tales of Chinese folklore.