The DallerGut Dream Department Store

Dallergut Dream Department Store / Mi-Ye Lee
trans. from the Korean by Sandy Joosun Lee
Toronto, ON : Hanover Square Press, 2024.
287 p.

Just finished this charming little read -- part one of a two part series. It's definitely in the vein of all the Japanese cat/coffeeshop/cozy reads lately, even though it's Korean. It's set in a small country that exists in our sleep, where sleepers can go and pick out the kind of dream they want at many dream shops. And they pay in the emotions they experience thanks to that dream. 

The story starts with the introduction of Penny, our main character who is getting ready for her interview at Dallergut Dream Department Store. Dallergut has a good reputation and she really wants to get a job there. Luckily for her, and for the reader, she does get hired, and as she learns her new job, we follow along with her. This gives us a sense of the story in a natural way; as it's all new to Penny, the author can be more descriptive and explicit about the strange and unusual things she encounters. 

Along with the quirky Dallergut himself there are many Dream Designers, superstars of this world. From the flamboyant to the reclusive, each is famous for a certain type of dream -- whether a flying dream, memories of lost loves, dreams of success or more, people can choose a designer dream to suit their needs. And, the employees of the dream department stores are thrilled when one of the designers appears. 

Penny becomes an assistant to Dallergut & gets to go with him as he visits many of these designers. Maxim specializes in nightmares, but  is also a young and handsome man, who finds Penny easy to talk to; it's a nice area for development in the story. But I found one entertaining moment in this book to be the big gathering of important dream designers, which is in a winter chalet, home of winter dream specialist Nicholas -- aka Santa. 

This brings a bit of seasonal charm to the story and I loved the frosty themes in that section. I liked the book as a whole, although it was on the edge of twee for me. Lots of creativity in building that world though, and some really fun characters developed. I think I will most likely read the second one!  

 

A Magical Girl Retires

A Magical Girl Retires / Park Seolyeon
trans. from the Korean by Anton Hur
NY: HarperVia, 2024, c2022.
147 p.

Someone mentioned this on IG and I thought it sounded fun - and my library had it as an ebook! So I read it :) 

It was okay - a little short with a bit of an abrupt conclusion, but still a fun read. It's steeped in a timely setting: the main character, a 29 year old woman, has lost her job during the pandemic and is facing mounting credit card debt and climate anxiety. She decides to jump off a bridge in Seoul. 

But her guardian angel rescues her -- actually it's Ah Roa, a clairvoyant magical girl on a mission to find the greatest magical girl of all time. Usually magical girls are discovered much younger, but our heroine might just be a late bloomer, and the GOAT. 

As her life is upended and she begins to meet other magical girls and learn the tricks of the trade, she's faced with an end-of-the-world scenario that she manages to deal with almost accidentally, driven by her fear of Ah Roa's imminent destruction (there's a little side romantic theme going on there too). And she discovers her particular talent at the vital moment. But also wonders if she really wants these powers or not. 

As noted, the ending is a bit sudden or abrupt, at least to me. I wasn't positive I fully understood her powers. But the overarching story is entertaining and creative, and brings up lots of serious topics in an engaging and frothy way. A short but rewarding read. 

 

My Death by Lisa Tuttle

 

My Death / Lisa Tuttle
read by Hillary Huber
Old Saybrook, CT: Tantor Media, 2024, c2004.

I saw someone mention this on Instagram recently and it piqued my interest. There was an audiobook edition available at my library, so I downloaded it and listened to it immediately. I've read a couple of Tuttle's other books and always find them interesting for their focus on women and mythology, in a modern setting. My Death included all these topics, in a fairly short book that turns out to have quite a wild twist in the end! 

A widowed writer is about to meet her agent, after a year of mourning in which she hasn't written at all. Trying to come up with a book idea for him, she stumbles across a painting by Helen Ralston, an artist she used to like in college. Ralston's art has been mostly overlooked, rather she is remembered primarily for her affair with an older male artist and as the model for one of his famous paintings. 

On the spur of the moment she decides she's going to write a biography of Helen Ralston -- to her surprise, Ralston is still alive, in her 90s and living with a daughter in Edinburgh. Everything just seems to be falling into her lap to get her book written, even if she just came up with the idea. 

But as it continues, this straightforward literary novel about art and writers and women's work begins to feel uncanny. The narrator starts to feel so many coincidences and similarities between Helen's life and her own, and it makes her panic a little. There's something going on that is making her uneasy, but why? Helen and her daughter are lovely, they want to help her, she should be happy about it! 

Very close to the end the creeping sense of the weird just bursts right out. I was left wondering what in the world I just heard -- and had to go back and listen again. I could not have predicted this ending in a million years, and it was a mind-bender. Tuttle doesn't tie everything up neatly, she leaves it with a bit of an open ending for you to figure out, and that may frustrate some readers, but I really enjoyed the way she did it. It's wild, something so fantastical I was taken completely by surprise -- and it was great. If you like small stories of the weird in women's lives, definitely give this one a try. It's just been republished in the NYRB series as well, so it's much more accessible now. Take a look for it! 

The Word for World is Forest

The Word for World is Forest / Ursula LeGuin
NY: Tor, 2010, c1972
189 p.

Ursula LeGuin is a reader who is probably most familiar to me via the Earthsea books - which are very much fantasy, even with some pointed commentary within them. But I was quite surprised by The Word for World is Forest, which I picked up at a thrift store and read right away. 

This was much more of its time (70s) even if it is set on a different planet sometime in the future. The concerns about colonialism, toxic masculinity, misogyny and opposing world views feels very rooted in the 70s, but unfortunately is still relevant in so many ways now as well. But the vibe of the story does bring up the feeling of war and Vietnam and all those early 70s concerns. 

It opens on the planet of Athshe, a forested world that Terrans have colonized with militaristic settlements, clearcutting as much as possible, having basically deforested Earth by this time. The people are pretty awful, military blowhards who have enslaved the native, peaceful Athsheans. Captain Davidson is one of the worst; the story opens with his perspective and he embodies all the worst qualities possible in a man. He's made an enemy of Selver, an Athshean whose wife was raped and murdered by Davidson much earlier. The Athsheans have a dreaming culture, and Selver dreams mass violence into existence on Athshe because of his experience - something that had never been seen there before. 

Selver becomes a God to the Athsheans and leads a mass revolt, leading to the defeat of the colonizers, who are then limited to a small cleared area to wait for the next space ship to take them off the planet forever. But in the process, the Athshean culture has been irrevocably changed. 

This was a shorter book, and I felt there was a lot of straightforward narrative in it, lots of clear villains and heroes. Not as imaginative as some of her other work, a little didactic at times. But I do think it reflects the time and her concerns very strongly. It's part of the Hainish Cycle, so some of the other alien races who appear on Athshe discuss the Hainish past; if you're familiar with any of the other books you'll find the connections easily. But you don't need to know anything about the Hainish Cycle to understand this one. I did find the character of Davidson quite despicable and didn't enjoy reading about him much. He was too horribly realistic and similar to some politicians today. 

Lots of interesting ideas here but I'm unlikely to reread it & will pass this on to other readers soon. 

Shubeik Lubeik

Shubeik Lubeik / Deena Mohamed
trans. from the Arabic by the author
New York : Pantheon Books, 2022.
518 p.

What would you wish for, if you knew your wish would come true? This is the question asked by Deena Mohamed in this imaginative graphic novel, set in an alternative Cairo, where wishes are real, regulated, bottled and licensed.

There are three classes of wish: first class, second class and the banned third class wish (due to their malicious unreliability). Wishes can be tricky and deceptive; the wording has to be just right for optimal results.

The story follows three characters as they each decide to use a First Class wish for different reasons, mainly non-material desires, like forgiveness or health. They each struggle with the ethics of wishing, with discussion of the religious or philosophical elements of a wish. How will it be interpreted, and will it actually give them what they need or want? Their stories cover a wide range of human experience, and bring up many aspects of the meaning of life, in a way that is accessible and sometimes humorous as well.

The artwork is a lively mix of colour and black and white, dependent on context. There are some extra nice touches – for example, when a wish bottle is opened, the Wish appears as a bubble of Arabic calligraphy. The translation (done by the author) has also left as much of the original unchanged as possible, with the book reading from right to left, as it does in Arabic.

With the engaging artistic style, and the deep themes that the storyline explores, this might be a great choice for any thoughtful reader interested in family stories, the Egyptian setting, or just the artwork itself. It might also raise philosophical questions about what we want, or need, out of life -- and what the right way is to achieve our desires.

The Future

The Future / Catherine Leroux
trans. from the French by Susan Ouriou
Windsor, ON : Biblioasis, c2023.
309 p.

The Future, which I read about a month ago, has just won this year's Canada Reads competition. I didn't think it would -- translations aren't always the most popular choices for things like Canada Reads. But it did, and I'm happy with that result. 

It's a dystopia of sorts; more of an exaggerated and hyperextended vision of the decline of civilization. This one's set in an alternate Detroit which was never surrendered to the Americans, and boasts a French community. Which also houses a wild band of ragged, self-governing children. I felt like this was a mix between Lord of the Flies and Peter Pan's Lost Boys, with a bit of Station Eleven mixed in for good measure. And perhaps tinges of Nalo Hopkinson's Brown Girl in the Ring as well. 

There are many, many characters to follow. We start with Gloria, who moves into the house where her daughter was recently murdered, looking for answers, and for her two missing granddaughters. She builds a friendship with the woman next door, and once Gloria encounters the band of children in the deep woods of a local park, they both try to build a tentative connection with the children. Gloria is sure that there is a link to her granddaughters somewhere among these children (and as it turns out she is right). 

There are houses that regenerate from ruins, community gardens built by a stubborn old gardener and his cohort of associates, wild children in various conclaves, poisoned rivers, hit and run tourism, and many more peculiar and unsettling elements to the story. It's a ride. You just have to let yourself sink in and follow the story as it goes. I'm not sure that there is a strong conclusion but there is a sense of hope as some of these children see a new future in cooperation with the adults who work to care for them. The world here is rather vaguely proposed so it's uncertain to me what will come after the end of the book, but there is a strong sense of communities helping themselves. 

I actually liked it much more than Leroux's first book which I read quite a while ago now, The Party Wall. I'm glad to have had the chance to try another book by this author. And I guess many Canadians will be reading it also, thanks to the Canada Reads effect. I hope it finds its audience!

Core of the Sun

The Core of the Sun / Johanna Sinisalo;
trans. from the Finnish by Lola Rogers
NY: Grove Press, 2016, c2013.
304 p.

I loved this strange and unusual read -- it's entertaining from the start, but it is also full of darker, disturbing themes. 

Set in a eusistocratic Finland that is controlled "for the well-being of its citizens", we are introduced to a society in which women have been divided into two distinct groups. One, the eloi who are all blonde & curvaceous and focused entirely on appearance, marriage, and domesticity. And second, the sadly defective who are unwomanly women, destined only for hard manual work and an unmarried state. Their intelligence & independence is a flaw.

Vanna has been raised as an eloi with her sister Manna but she's secretly not one. Her sister, recently married very young, has disappeared and Vanna is desperate to find her. Vanna had befriended Jare, a young man who was a farm worker on their family & they are now working together selling an illicit substance-- chili pepper. The effect of capsaicin is in demand, since every other kind of drug is forbidden and inaccessible.  Jare hears rumours of a cult who is raising chilis, searching for the Core of the Sun, a pepper so hot that it will cause a transcendental experience. They connect; conveniently Vanna has a family farm with growing space, inconveniently she's also a chili addict. She's hiding both her addiction & her intelligence and it's wearing on her.

The plot is complicated in some ways, simple in others. The characters drive the story, and I loved the characters. The concept is really intriguing, and raises a lot of questions about freedom, social structures, gender roles, true affection and more. I enjoyed the concept of chilis as the substance in demand -- it really reveals how anything forbidden becomes desired. Also, the cover is brilliantly tied to the storyline & I really appreciated the detail! 

I found this a quick and enjoyable read. Definitely going to read more by this author.

The Vestigial Heart

The Vestigial Heart / Carme Torras
trans. from the Catalan by Josephine Swarbrick
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2018, c2007.
262 p.

Now this was an unusual read. The author is a professor of robotics in Barcelona, and writes her academic work in English and fiction in Catalan. This one is a bit of both, really -- fiction about the ethics of robots and AI. 

The book opens in a future a few hundred years from now. Human emotion is almost extinct; people seem to drift through experience, never really maturing, dependent on their personal robot assistants -- everyone has one.

Silvana is a researcher who reads old books to try to understand emotion; she's part of a group who is anti-tech. Leo is a robotics researcher working on a "creativity prosthesis" under the auspices of one of the biggest tech companies. Lu is a youngish woman who decides she wants to adopt a child (due to a shortage of children many adoptees are children cryogenically frozen in the past when cures for their diseases were unknown). And Celia is the 13 yr old from the 20th century who is unfrozen to become Lu's daughter -- full of memories and human emotion. 

These lives intertwine to reveal many philosophical issues about robotics, AI, their effects on users, and the responsibility of creators when developing these kinds of things -- the idea that humanity needs to be part of robotics is strongly emphasized.  In fact there is a reader's guide at the end which poses ethical questions for discussion, noting the relevant chapters. 

Despite this, it's a pretty good read as a novel as well. I enjoyed the academic tone and the characters. It reminded me a bit of The Forever Formula, a book I read in junior high about a cryogenically frozen teen awoken in a dystopian future -- slightly different ethical questions in that one but the same sense of examination of where tech might take us. 

In any case, the author of this one has a vested interest in robotics so the anti-tech group in her novel isn't going to come out well. Silvana's choices at the end of the book felt a bit sudden in one way, although they are partly driven by the emotions she's been trying to grasp. But if you like intellectual speculative fiction that makes no bones about being a study of ethics you might want to give this a try also. It's an intriguing concept and I found it interesting in a few different ways. 
 

A Stitch in Time

A Stitch in Time / Kelley Armstrong
Oklahoma City: KLA Fricke, 2020
(e-book)

 

I'm not a regular reader of Kelley Armstrong's books -- I know they're really popular and well done, but I just haven't got into them. This one, however, immediately interested me. It's very different from her usual style, in fact, it's just what I like a lot; it's a time travel love story centred around a English country house. All the things I love in this kind of fiction! 

So of course I had to read it right away. It was so enjoyable, and set in England, as all great books with this premise seem to be ;) It features Canadian academic Bronwyn Dale, who has just inherited Thorne Manor from her great-aunt. She travels to England to sort her inheritance, although she's quite anxious about returning to a house she hasn't been to after a tragedy when she was 15, a haunted house that holds dark memories for her. 

It also holds memories of her childhood friend, William Thorne, a boy who she encountered regularly until the age of 15, but who nobody else believed actually existed. After being sent for psychological evaluation at age 15, she's convinced herself that everyone around her was right, until she returns, and meets a very grown up William shortly after. 

The house is both haunted in the present, and very real in the past: there is a time slip between Bronwyn and William's bedroom which only they can cross (well, and a very determined cat as well). Their relationship must be restored across time, and Bronwyn's life must be decided, between Thorne Manor or returning to her teaching job in Canada for another semester. 

It's a lovely, warm story, though there are dark, spooky ghosts who do real damage. And fear in the night when Bronwyn (and her cat) are alone in the house. There are some very dark deeds to uncover and set right, and only if Bronwyn is able to do so will anything else work out well. 

This was a delightfully escapist read that I enjoyed a great deal. William was swoony, Bronwyn determined, ghosts scary, and the setting thorough and well drawn, in both eras. I loved the side characters, and wanted Armstrong to come up with a plausible way that William and Bronwyn could bridge the centuries. 

I think she did. Recommended.

Empire of Wild

Empire of Wild / Cherie Dimaline
TO: Penguin Random House, c2019.
300 p.

I've finally got around to reading this novel, after enjoying Dimaline's first book, The Marrow Thieves, a lot. This one's quite different, but also requires a leap of imagination.

In Empire of Wild, the folk story of the Rogarou comes to all too real life. The Rogarou is a werewolf-like creature that haunts the roads and woods of Métis communities. And as this story begins, Victor, new to the community via his wife, disappears. People think he's had enough and just left Joan, but she knows that couldn't be the truth. And it isn't -- he's been taken by the Rogarou.

Then Joan stumbles across Victor -- or a man who is identical to him -- at a travelling religious show. He's preaching from the stage, and when he sees her he doesn't recognize her, and he's going by a different name, the Reverend Eugene Wolff. But she's nothing but determined, and makes it her mission to restore him. 

Alongside her 12 yr old nephew Zeus (a delightful character) she makes a plan to bring Victor home. This requires much information seeking about the Rogarou from elders, tracking of the charismatic religious sect, and some risk taking when the kidnap plan is set. There's lots of great action around the community and secret corporate development plans, around the family relationships of Joan's extended family and community, and a constant thread of the solid and powerful love between Joan and Victor. 

There was a strong lead up to the conclusion, a slow build that all explodes (literally) in the end. The shape of the story is great, except for the very last few pages. I didn't see that the final pages were necessary, unless a sequel is coming. But the event that happens in the last pages doesn't seem to fit with the rest, it kind of takes away from Joan's triumph, in my view anyhow. 

Still, a really interesting concept and strong setting and characters made this an enjoyable, energetic read. 

Return of the Trickster

 

Return of the Trickster / Eden Robinson
Toronto: Penguin Random House, c2021.
320 p.

Finally, the last book in the Trickster trilogy is out! I've been waiting for this one -- I loved book one, Son of a Trickster, and book two, Trickster Drift. And of course, in between we got the tv version of the story (which I thought was pretty good but diverged quite a lot from the books, which I still prefer).

This one concludes this story of Jared, the rather mellow teenager at the heart of the series. He's really the Son of a Trickster, and as we find out here, a trickster himself, however unwillingly. 

This volume is a bit more violent and gory than the first two, with lots more action happening. Jared is still surrounded by family and by ghosts and supernatural creatures of all kinds -- he even meets a Sasquatch in this one (who's actually a pretty chill dude). It's a bit of a strange setup, since Wade (his trickster father) is basically imprisoned and unable to help throughout the book, and his mother loses some of her invincibility as well. But Jared has to force himself to step up and basically save his entire family. 

There are some gross bits in this one that I had to skim over, much more than the first two books. But there is still the sense of humour and unexpected appearances of oddball characters who help (or hinder). It's a satisfying conclusion in most ways; we get to know Jared's full nature, and so does he. And his family does prevail over their attackers, who are dark and dangerous. But I didn't feel the same spark as the first book, the bright energy of Jared's new discoveries. Still, a great finish to this series. I'd still recommend reading this set to anyone who loves contemporary Indigenous fiction, and who has a sense of black humour. Fans of Dean Koontz's Odd Thomas will also find the feel of this series familiar - if you can take supernatural violence and lots of cussing, this one's for you. 

How Long 'Til Black Future Month?

How Long 'til Black Future Month? / N.K. Jemisin
NY: Orbit, c2018.
400 p.

 

This collection of 22 stories which span Jemisin's career is a must read. If you are interested in contemporary speculative fiction, this is a book which I'd consider canonical. 

I finished this last week but haven't had a chance to sit down to write about it -- but just had to get it in before the end of Black History Month -- the perfect companion to looking back. There is a wide variety of subject matter and style in this book, since the stories are drawn from writing across many years. 

My favourites are the more magical, fantastical ones; the harder science ones didn't catch me in the same way. And there's also a story, "Stone Hunger" tied to her best-selling trilogy, the Broken Earth books.

I really enjoyed "Sinners, Saints, Dragons, and Haints, in the City Beneath the Still Waters", a story set during Hurricane Katrina. There are strong characters and also dragon creatures who protect the city -- it's a beautifully cohesive story, and full of love for the city itself. Funnily enough, the other story that I really loved was also set in New Orleans, but this time in the late 18th Century. "The Effluent Engine" is a spy story; a female spy and female engineer, wreaking havoc on men who are trying to destroy them, and triumphing together. I want more of this one! 

There are many others to explore in this thoughtful and engaging collection. From very short to quite lengthy, from tales of the fae to hard science and space exploration, you'll find something you'll love in this book, I'm sure of it. Jemisin brings her own vision to these stories, and breaks from some of the motifs in traditional male science fiction from the past. It's fresh, and has reignited my interest in reading more speculative fiction.

Outlawed

 

Outlawed / Anna North
NY: Bloomsbury, c2021.
272 p.

Now this was a different book than I'd expected -- it's not just a modern, feminist Western, it's also a kind of retroactive post-apocalyptic novel. How can one explain this? Once you get your head around it, it's simple. But like I said, unexpected... somehow I'd missed that part. 

Ada is married at 17, happily and expecting a great future. But after a year of marriage and no children in sight, her husband (and especially her mother-in-law) decides that she's barren and so they cast her out. In Ada's world, a world of 1894 in the west of what used to be the United States of America, before the Great Flu that killed most of the population, children are the reason for existence. Barren women are considered curses and driven from their towns so that they won't cause other women's pregnancies to fail, or deformed children to be born. If they're not chased away, they are hung as witches or abnormalities.

Ada's mother is the local midwife, but even all her help in delivering others' babies can't help Ada now. She flees to a convent that takes in women like her. Discovering that she's not really cut out for the nun life, the Mother Superior recommends Ada head out to find the notorious Hole in the Wall Gang, a refuge for women like her, led by The Kid

And so Ada does, and as she opens her story, "In the year of our Lord 1894, I became an outlaw.".

The story is rooted in the idea of women and fertility, and the control of fertility. When this is added to the Western tropes, this story feels like it could only be American. There is an atmosphere of fear and small mindedness, suspicion and superstition, and these women who don't fit in are having to carve their own living space out in whatever way they can. The way forward is community and education, timely thoughts for today as well. 

I liked this book; the world created was convincing, and the characters were all unique -- there were really strong individuals found here. I thought the combination of the Western with the "women's apocalypse" themes worked well, and had lots of room to expand. But I didn't absolutely love it, and I think that might be because it's really quite short, and the ending feels a bit sudden to me. There was so much more room to really go into some of the themes and conundrums the author set up, which were left open-ended and not taken to their full potential. I feel that with more context to the book there would be so much more to discuss. It feels a bit like the author is revealing situations but not taking a position or showing an opinion on them; it's not often I think that a book needs more writing, but in this one I think it could have fleshed it out some more, given it more heft. 

Still, it was thought-provoking and should stimulate discussion if read in a book club, for example. I can think of many partner reads to this one, like The Outcasts by Kathleen Kent, if you like the women in the west themes, or Future Home of the Living God by Louise Erdrich, if you're more drawn to the apocalyptic fertility themes. 

The Slynx

The Slynx / Tatyana Tolstaya
trans. from the Russian by Jamey Gambrell
NY: NYRB, 2007, c2000.
299 p.

Another strange Russian science fiction novel today. This one takes place 200 years after "the Blast", obviously a nuclear war which has caused radiation contamination and various mutations among people, wildlife and flora of all kinds. 

These Consequences are unpredictable; one character has fleshy cockscombs all over her body, one has a tail, others have talons instead of toes. But for the Oldeners, those few who survived the Blast, the Consequence is that they seem to live forever. This is not necessarily a delight. 

This new society is based in small groups gathered around villages named after the Murza in charge. The story's main character is the hapless Benedikt, son of an Oldener who has died from eating bad Firelings. Benedikt has a job transcribing fragments of writing shared by their Murza, Fyodor Kuzmich, Glory-Be. There are a handful of other transcriptionists in his unit, one a beautiful young woman with no apparent Consequences, Olenka. Another is a poor woman covered in waving cockscombs; she's so terrible to look at that nobody pays attention to the fact that she's the smartest one among them. 

Benedikt isn't the brightest but he is handsome and healthy. This despite the general lifestyle of eating mice, beating and maiming one another for fun, and plenty of endurance and misery. Villagers try very hard to avoid any sign of Freethinking; god forbid they draw the attention of the Saniturions who punish anyone with ideas of a better, non-serfdom kind of life, or those who read secret Oldener books. 

And worst of all, to fall under the eye of the Slynx, the mythical creature who lives in the woods and yowls, causing fear and trembling, and will leap from behind and tear out your spine so that you wander as a zombie of sorts until you die. 

But in a sudden upset of his circumstances, Benedikt finds himself a newbie Saniturion himself, with access to hundreds of books. He reads and reads, for escapism from the terrible life they all live, but he never seems to learn anything from his reading. Once he's read something, he doesn't understand that you can read it again, and he can't distinguish between literature and a volume of knitting instruction.

All this reading doesn't improve him, doesn't bring out the light of civilization in his heart; he remains the same simpleton he always was, just with more power. And others who claim to want to defend Art are just the same. 

Tolstaya has a lot to say about "What is Art?", just like her great grand-uncle Leo Tolstoy. Her take on it all is a bit different however. She creates an absurdist setting that is both heavily Russian and a return to the dark ages, in which remnants of the old world exist but are not understood by the new generations. Books, language, art, memory, civilization itself, are all questioned as to their value and their staying power. 

The language in the book is slightly off; Benedikt recalls his mother mourning for the days of "deportment stores" or "bootiks". I don't envy the translator her job with this one! The book just keeps moving from one surreal setting to the next, and Benedikt never seems to learn anything, even with the attempted guidance of Oldener Nikita, the Stoker (who provides fire to the village). 

And the Slynx itself? Benedikt believes that he feels the eye of the Slynx on him from time to time; he tries to describe the feeling in clumsy words but it's basically when an existential crisis is threatening, something he won't let develop but instead does something violent to avoid. I think the Slynx is that existential fear, which the Murzas have personified to terrorize those who might be tempted to think about any meaning in life or how things might be made better for the peasants. It's a society that depends on most of the population being miserable toilers in order to benefit a few at the top; it seems humanity never changes, even when they are sprouting mutations and Consequences! 

This was a super weird book, but one I like a lot for its frantic, topsy-turvy style. I was surprised by the sudden emphasis on books halfway through, but found so much humour, intellectual & literary references, and inventiveness in it. It's violent and terrible but also uncanny and unsettling with very black humour to leaven it all. Definitely an odd but memorable read. 

Jagannath

Jagannath / Karin Tidbeck; trans. from the Swedish by Karin Tidbeck

NY: Vintage, 2018, c2011.

161 p.

I read Tidbeck's speculative novel Amatka last year and have been trying to encourage people to read it ever since. It was so discombobulating, so good! So I was happy to find her story collection Jagannath to read this month.

Besides the beautiful cover, there is a lot that is magical about this collection. The stories range from quirky fables to creepy gothic fantasy to mysterious realism to science fictiony stories of machines and worlds ending. 

It's a wild mix. But they all have the unsettling feel that she does so well. In these thirteen stories she moves from horror to enchantment to dark fantasy and to quirky charm. In the story "Who Is Arvid Pekon?" she channels Kafka and his bureaucratic mixups in the best possible way -- in a call centre where the operators pretend to be the people that callers want to talk to, Arvid gets a strange customer... 

And in the title story, a futuristic world in which a human colony lives inside a giant insect, we learn that the host is dying. It's grossly physical and yet moving and imaginative. 

Then there are gentler stories like "Herr Cederberg" which reminds me of small French animated films -- I could almost see it -- the quiet quirkiness of his experience would work well as a short film.

And stories which depend on myth, legend, and the enchantments of folklore: "Britta's Holiday Village" is one; a writer retreats to her aunt's holiday camp while it's uninhabited, but discovers something unusual about her family.

Another was "Reindeer Mountain", a longer story, and probably my favourite in the book. Two sisters return with their mother to their family home in the mountains, where legends of the Vittra (a fairy like race) abound. The younger sister, a solid, realistic girl, nevertheless dreams of the Vittra, and would gladly go with them into their fairy halls. Her older sister, mentally unstable but tall, thin and beautiful, doesn't care. You can guess how this might end. Was it really fairies? Or is that just the story the family tells themselves afterward? This was so rich with family lore, with magic, with sibling dynamics, with women's lives. I loved this one. 

This book has only increased my appreciation of Karin Tidbeck. Some of the stories were written in English, and some in Swedish which were then translated into English by Tidbeck herself. So I feel this fits wonderfully into my women in translation reading, and I can only hope to find another work by her translated soon. 

Alderman's The Power

The Power / Naomi Alderman
New York: Little, Brown, 2017, c2016.
386 p.

Not a shocker for anyone that I've finally read this book. Everybody has!

And it is well worth the time, especially if you like feminist dystopias, as I do.

I'm sure the plot of this one is no secret by now: in the indeterminate near future, adolescent girls suddenly discover they have the power to electrically shock others, eventually realizing fatal shocks are possible. The potential for violence that women now have literally in their hands shifts the power balance between genders: now men are afraid in the way that women always have been.

There are various strands that come together in the story: a young foster girl from a religious, hypocritical home -- who becomes a leader in this new women's ascendancy; a Nigerian man who becomes a reporter of sorts; the daughter of a London crime family; and a few more. These characters experience this new world order and find their place in it in their own ways.

As the Power grows, and all women seem to change and receive the ability to shock and/or electrocute men, society shifts. It seems that there is a new war of sorts, the world over, as women look to take over what they've been refused forever. And the Power of immediate violence does appeal to some in the same way it does for men in our contemporary world: there are scenes of war crimes that are terrible and terrifying. 

I wasn't 100% convinced by some of the plot resolution, and had some issues with the way the story fell out. And I didn't feel engaged by the character of the man who was reporting on the changes; while I can see why he was there, it felt a little raw, a little bit too much "not all men", at least in this current climate. 

I felt the influence of Margaret Atwood in this book, so perhaps appropriate that she blurbed it. The Handmaid's Tale feels like a shadow behind this book, both in the idea of a female-centred dystopia and in the inclusion of 'documents' from after the action has taken place. The use of a document from the far future was the part that didn't work for me, though. I felt that it strained credulity, and also wasn't necessary -- the point of the book was clear without the addition of this extra element.

Nonetheless, this was a thrilling read, creative and not at all sentimental about what power does to people, whether male or female. While I didn't think it was perfect, and had some reservations about it, I still enjoyed reading it and would recommend to any reader who enjoys speculative fiction, especially those with women at the centre. It certainly shines the light of metaphor and speculation upon the way our world works now. 

The Amateurs

The Amateurs / Liz Harmer
Toronto: Knopf Canada, c2018.
336 p.

Another book in my favourite genre this year, post-apocalyptic fiction. Why am I reading so many of these? Are there just more around? Do they just suit the end-of-the-world mood I seem to be feeling every time I watch the news?

In any case, I've found quite a few this year and they've all had their appeal. The Amateurs is a quieter apocalypse - no pandemic, no climate disaster, but even more frightening for its dailiness - massive tech firm PINA has created Ports. The Ports allow for nostalgic or adventurous daydreamers to travel through time: step through a Port and you will end up in the place you are dreaming of. The problem is that people are stepping through, and never coming back.

Turns out that the technology isn't as bug-free as promised, and the creators don't actually know how it works, except that Port seems to be alive, and enticing people into stepping through to a new life.

Why, and how? That's the question among those left behind in a tiny population decimated by mass disappearances. The story focuses on Marie, an artist in her 30s who is convinced that her ex-husband will return from the other side of PORT, and find her again. She still lives in her small apartment over her art store in Hamilton, even while the other 40-some people left around are rehoming themselves in the huge expensive mansions now left empty. They all gather daily at a local church though, keeping track of one another and their survival. The problem is, they are all amateurs -- they have no doctors, no engineers, no farmers. And winter is coming around again. Do they stay, connected to their city, or leave for warmer climes? It's a constant thread.

There's also another settlement across the continent, the fancy complex that houses PINA and its eccentric founder, Albrecht Doors. For some reason he never used his own Port technology, and now there is a circle of 100 or so PINA employees living in the compound with him. Brandon, his right-hand man, is beginning to have doubts about Doors' brilliance; he steals an electric car and heads cross-country to Hamilton to see if his mother is still on this side. There he meets Marie and her gang of survivors. 

The story has a great premise. And it's told well, with smooth and appealing writing. It has the feel of Station Eleven in its quietness and look at art and what makes life worth living. Where I felt it was a bit weaker is in its tendency to explain and set the scene, a lot, rather than get the action moving. It builds up Marie's obsession with ex-husband Jason, but when the crisis comes he seems to be an afterthought in the end. The end of the book is also unresolved, as if the story hasn't been carried to any conclusion. 

I found it really unsettling in a way that was slightly different from other books of this kind. It seems like the world is ending with a whimper, not a bang. The people we meet don't seem to have many practical survival skills, and I don't feel too much hope for them. Or from them, for that matter. The undertone of the book seems to be one of helplessness, of powerlessness in the face of this disaster, of a cosmic shrug instead of a sense of humanity gathering together in our urge to continue on. I think that was what was most striking about the mood of the book - I really believed after closing this that humanity was simply going to die out, without much more fuss. A hint toward the future or toward something positive, a sense of the potential of the new order, or something along those lines would have changed the impression I had of this book's pessimistic outlook. 

But that could be just my take - have you read it? What were your impressions of the zeitgeist of the story? Did you like it/dislike it/enjoy it/fling it across the room?

Amatka

Amatka / Karin Tidbeck; translated from the Swedish by Karin Tidbeck.
New York: Vintage, c2017.
216 p.

Weird and wonderful. That's this book in brief. I picked it up at work by chance, not knowing a thing about it. Seeing that it was a speculative novel and a good pick for my Women in Translation project, I checked it out, and started reading.

I didn't really understand what was going on at all, until halfway through. But it was disorienting in the best possible way; all expectations were suspended as I tried to get a handle on this new world that Tidbeck was creating.

We start out by meeting Brilars Vanja Essre Two, a woman travelling from the main colony of her world to one of the other four colonies, the cold and outflung Amatka. 

We don't know much about how these colonies got to this world, or why. We do know that there were five colonies to begin with, but one had a disastrous encounter with the name they chose for their settlement, so then there were four. 

Names and language play a key role in this book; on this planet there are limited amounts of  'good' materials brought with the colonists; everything else has its name written on it, and things must be marked and named continually, to keep its shape. A suitcase has a label with "suitcase" written out, which must be touched and named aloud regularly. Otherwise, items will revert to a primordial 'gloop'. And if there is an error in naming, chaos may ensue. 

Into this setting comes Vanja, putatively to do some corporate research into hygiene product needs. Residents of Amatka are bemused by this, as all the colonies are Soviet style communes, with one basic product generally available to everyone in the same way. Children are raised in children's houses apart from their parents; jobs are assigned and followed by rote; even leisure time is scheduled and communal. There are those who rebel against this life -- but by choosing not to fall in line and uphold the marking and naming, by questioning or using language outside of allowable parameters, one becomes a danger. The state deals with this humanely, with lobotomies. 

However, Amatka is struggling, as this small community recently lost 100 settlers in a terrible accident. Or was it? Vanja starts to wonder what is actually going on in her new home, and begins investigating, with help from the local librarian, who is also a secret rebel. There is more to this new planet than first apparent.

This is a mystery, a dystopia, a psychological novel, a social commentary. The ending is variably interpretable -- you could read it as positive and triumphal, or terrifying and psychologically dangerous, depending on your view of the society and its rules which Tidbeck presents throughout the lead up to the sudden explosion of action in the closing pages. I'm still not sure which I think it is... 

I really enjoyed this book and would highly recommend it to anyone who reads speculative fiction. Its unique sensibility really sets it apart, and makes it unforgettable. For a book about the power of language, its own language is subdued but nonetheless powerful in shaping the reading experience. I haven't been so unsettled and uncertain about a story for a long time -- and I loved it.

Sputnik's Children

my library copy, with suitable fabric bookmark!

Sputnik's Children / Terri Favro
Toronto: ECW Press, c2017.
351 p.

This is the first in a string of speculative fiction I've picked up unintentionally from the library -- there were a bunch of shiny new books on the shelf so I thought I'd try some. And they were all weird and good and busted me out of a reading rut. 

This novel is the story of Debbie Reynolds Biondi, a comic book author of the cult hit Sputnik Girl. It's the story of a badass heroine with no past -- but the secret is that Debbie has based her comics on her life growing up in an alternate universe, under Atomic Mean Time. She lives in Shipman's Corners, Canusa -- a corporate part of what is our Niagara region in our time.

Debbie encounters time travellers and conspirators, all trying to either guide or keep her from collapsing Atomic Mean Time to save the world from nuclear disaster. When her AMT world collapses, everyone in it will blend with their other self in our own accustomed world; everyone except Debbie, who doesn't exist in our world, which is why she is the only one able to Save The World.

Or so she says.

Debbie is middle-aged, alone, addicted to lorazepam and martinis, fixated on her past story. But is she a reliable narrator? That's up to the reader to decide. As for myself, Favro's Cold War inspired AMT world is so convincing that I believed in this alternate reality thesis. The blend of science, true love, prejudice, a childhood in the shadow of nuclear war, and family dynamics is, well, dynamic. It's fast paced & fascinating, innocent & terrifying, funny and really sad, all rolled up in one -- or maybe two -- worlds.

The storyline doesn't have any logical errors, and I appreciated the detail in the setting and the time travel/science elements; it makes the reading very sensory and realistic. The characters, especially Debbie's family, were well drawn and convincing. All together, this was a puzzling and very entertaining read. It brings up questions of veracity, power, safety, war, authority, all alongside an accessible and enjoyable literary/speculative narrative. I had fun reading this, which is enough for me.

Last Year

Last Year / Robert Charles Wilson
Tor, c2016
352 p.

I love a good time travel book. And I also love history. And this is a great read in light of both those things. 

It's late 19th century Ohio, and Jesse Cullum is hard at work in the city of the future. Literally. A group of individuals from the near-future have come back to this part of this past to set up a modern resort for future tourists to come and sight-see. For a price, of course.

Wilson sets up a time travel plot that seems realistic: people in the future have discovered The Mirror, a portal to limited parts of the past -- they can stay for a few years, but this is their Last Year, before the portal will close. Between now and the due date for the closure, the owner of the City will try to get as much as he can out of this world. The time travel paradox is explained by the multiple universes idea: this is one version of the past but may not result in the future that these people are coming from, especially because of their influence on historical developments on things like technology and medicine. 

But Jesse's a great character, introspective and heroic in the strong, silent manner. His partner/boss from the future, Elizabeth, is pretty badass and it's a race toward the portal's closing for them as they begin to develop a relationship. 

It's a fun read with elements of thriller, political drama, time travel, Western and more. I liked the way he dealt with the paradox of time travel and the encounters between past and future people (I just wish he'd have lightened up on the "humourous" mention of Jesse's having lost his pair of future-made Oakley sunglasses in the opening pages -- I was getting tired of reading "Oakleys" pretty quickly!)

Anyway, a fun, engaging, accessible read that brings up concerns about colonialism, 'first contact', social constructs of behaviour, politics and money, and more. I enjoyed the fast moving plot that seemed a little bit loosey-goosey at times but was so enjoyable to read that I didn't mind the few reservations I had about it. For example, there are no Native characters in the story, just a quick mention of their existence, and the women of the past are primarily prostitutes, apparently.

And the blurb for this book has the story wrong -- it says "Jesse Cullum is a native. And he knows the passageway will be closing soon. He's fallen in love with a woman from our time, and he means to follow her back--no matter whose secrets he has to expose in order to do it." But Jesse does not intend to follow Elizabeth back -- in fact, they discuss the implications of just such ideas, as well having part of their job being  trying to locate "runners" -- those who've come to the Past and run from the tourist city to live in their ideal of the past. 

But despite that, this is a good read that might be a fun, unusual pick for a book club: there are many ideas to discuss. If you are a time travel fan, and can take a bit of thrillerish violence & some f-bombs, you will probably like this one too.