03 August 2022

Missy: The Master Plan by Jody Houser and Roberta Ingranata

Doctor Who: Missy: The Master Plan

Collection published: 2021
Contents published: 2021
Read: May 2022

Writer: Jody Houser
Artist: Roberta Ingranata
Colorist: Erica Eren Angiolini
Flatter: Sari Chankhamma
Letterer: Richard Starkings

After Alternating Current, Titan's redundantly named Doctor Who Comic became a sort of anthology feature, resetting its numbering and its focus every four issues. Doctor Who Comic vol. 2 #1-4 focused on Missy, Michelle Gomez's incarnation of the Master. The story sees Missy breaking her earlier self, in the form of the Roger Delgado incarnation, out of prison while pretending to be a future regeneration of the Doctor who needs his help recovering a fragment of the Key to Time. Missy trying to bamboozle her past self into thinking she's the Doctor is about as delightful as one might expect—she is, quite frankly, not very good at it. I was thoroughly entertained by this, and found that Houser and Ingranata did a great job of capturing the characters of both incarnations. There are a number of good cameos her, especially by other Master incarnations, and some invocation of the Master's own history in Titan comics.

One thing didn't work for me: the story seemed to not climax so much as just stop. The Master works out who Missy is and.... that's it? The Key to Time thing was, unless I was reading carelessly, basically forgotten. I had thought Houser's storylines were like this because she was pastiching the Jodie Whittaker era, but here we're doing a Peter Capaldi and the writing is still like that, so maybe that's just how she writes things. Frustrating.

I read an issue of Titan's Doctor Who comic every day (except when I have hard-copy comics to read). Next up in sequence: Empire of the Wolf

02 August 2022

Hugos 2022: Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir

Andy Weir's The Martian was self-published electronically in 2011, and then republished by a traditional publisher in 2014, which is when it went big; this meant that by the time people noticed it, it was no longer eligible for a Hugo Award. (Weir did win the Astounding Award for Best New Writer in 2015, however, on the basis of The Martian, as even though it is administered alongside the Hugos, it has different eligibility rules.) Weir's next novel, Artemis (2017), had a much more mixed reception; I never read it, but critical reception made it seem like he tried something new, and it wasn't within his skillset as a writer. It didn't make the 2016 Hugo ballot (it was about twenty-five nominating ballots short, putting it five positions down).

Published: 2021
Acquired and read: July 2022

Well, Weir is back on familiar ground with Project Hail Mary, and it is thus little surprise that he is finally a Hugo finalist. Like The Martian, Project Hail Mary is about a single science expert struggling to survive on his own in space—although in this case, the entire future of the human race depends on him. I called The Martian an example of Golden-Age science fiction, and PHM is similar: a scientist boldly sciencing his way out of problems. I enjoyed it, particularly the exploration of an alien biology in the form of the astrophage, a space-based life-form that feeds on the light of stars. Weir does a good job extrapolating from the idea of the astrophage.

The big difference between Project Hail Mary and an actual work of Golden Age sf is that PHM is much much longer. Novels were a rarity back then, and when they existed, they ran about 200 pages at most. PHM is over twice as long, and around page 350, I was bored with the formula. 1) Everything seems fine. 2) Something unexpected goes wrong. 3) There is a perfectly rational scientific explanation for this. 4) There is a perfectly rational scientific solution for this. When something went wrong around this point, I just groaned, because I could see exactly how it would play out... and indeed the formula repeated two more times beyond that.

Unfortunately, there's nothing else to get you through Project Hail Mary. Not theme, nor character work. Weir is the kind of writer where his supporting characters have no more characterization than "Russian." His main character isn't much better: there's an attempt at an interesting idea with him being too cowardly to go to space, but somehow he's done it anyway, but 1) it wasn't clear to me he was meant to be a coward until someone actually said it aloud, and 2) you might think the book would then be about overcoming cowardice, but instead his cowardice is treated as a mystery, and once you know the reason he went to space despite his cowardice, it never comes up again.

It's clear that this book works for many. I think there's a version of it that could have worked for me; after all, I did enjoy The Martian. And I did laugh at one good joke. But I found this a bit of a pointless slog in the end.

01 August 2022

Wonder Woman: The 18th Letter: A Love Story by Christopher Priest, Karl Waller, Mark McKenna, et al.

I read this Wonder Woman story because it was the first appearance of the "original" "Golden Age" Fury, Helena Kosmatos, since The Young All-Stars, as well as her first-ever appearance in the present-day of the DC universe. It's a sort of complicated story: Wonder Woman is trying to put an end to a civil war in the Mediterranean(?) nation of New Vladonia, when she's attacked by Fury and given a proposal by Michael Lysander, leader of the East Vladonian Resistance.

Lysander turns out to be an ancient Greek demigod named Alcmaeon, who wants Wonder Woman to fall in love with him; if she'll sleep with him, he'll end the fighting. Much of the story alternates between Dinah going on dates with him, and Dinah wondering if this is the right way to bring peace to "man's world." For some reason, Superman turns up, as Clark is full of opinions on what Dinah can do with her body. It's like, dude, I think you are married to someone else! I found a lot of this hard to follow, actually, particularly bits that seemed to assume I knew more about Alcmaeon than I did. What actually was the 18th letter?

The Fury stuff isn't very well integrated into the rest. Partially this is because its stakes are kind of murky, as a lot of what is going on depends on backstory... backstory we have never actually seen, because since The Young All-Stars, the continuity terrain has shifted a lot. Roy Thomas created the original Fury to (partially) replace the Golden Age Wonder Woman's role in the post-Crisis DC universe. But later, John Byrne established that the Golden Age Wonder Woman's role in the Justice Society was actually taken by Diana's mother, Queen Hippolyta, travelling back in time and adopting the role of Wonder Woman. This comic establishes that while living in the 1940s, Hippolyta adopted a maternal role toward Helena, enough that Helena is jealous of Diana, Hippolyta's "real" daughter.

from Legends of the DC Universe #32
(art by Pablo Raimondi & Karl Waller and Mark McKenna)
Like, the emotional throughline of this story is all dependent on two retcons that I don't think were ever really intended to go together! We never saw the Helena/Hippolyta relationship, and I found it difficult to care about. Also, where has Helena been since World War II? Why did she give her daughter Lyta up for adoption? (For some reason, Helena says to Diana, "You've taken everything from me--my mother, my child..." Like, she's just living in LA, lady; go look her up in the phonebook.) Anyway, I think there's an attempt at some thematic overlap with the main story when it comes to love, violence, and redemption, but there's too much going on in this story's three issues, and so it's just not enough.

Both Helena and Lyta now exist in the present-day DC universe, but as far as I know, no writer ever connected the two Furies in any way; after this, Helena seems to have only appeared in some Themysciran crowd scenes in Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman: The 18th Letter: A Love Story originally appeared in issues #30-32 of Legends of the DC Universe (July-Sept. 2000). The story was written by Christopher Priest, pencilled by Karl Waller (#30-32) and Pablo Raimondi (#32), inked by Mark McKenna (#30-32) and Jason Baumgartner (#31), lettered by John Costanza, colored by Tom McCraw, and edited by Maureen McTigue.
 
This post is thirtieth in a series about the Justice Society and Earth-Two. The next installment covers Two Thousand. Previous installments are listed below:
  1. All Star Comics: Only Legends Live Forever (1976-79)
  2. The Huntress: Origins (1977-82)
  3. All-Star Squadron (1981-87)
  4. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume One (1983-84)
  5. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume Two (1984-85)
  6. Showcase Presents... Power Girl (1978)
  7. America vs. the Justice Society (1985)
  8. Jonni Thunder, a.k.a. Thunderbolt (1985)
  9. Crisis on Multiple Earths, Volume 7 (1983-85)
  10. Infinity, Inc. #11-53 (1985-88) [reading order]
  11. Last Days of the Justice Society of America (1986-88)
  12. All-Star Comics 80-Page Giant (1999)
  13. Steel, the Indestructible Man (1978)
  14. Superman vs. Wonder Woman: An Untold Epic of World War Two (1977)
  15. Secret Origins of the Golden Age (1986-89)
  16. The Young All-Stars (1987-89)
  17. Gladiator (1930) ["Man-God!" (1976)]
  18. The Crimson Avenger: The Dark Cross Conspiracy (1981-88)
  19. The Immortal Doctor Fate (1940-82)
  20. Justice Society of America: The Demise of Justice (1951-91)
  21. Armageddon: Inferno (1992)
  22. Justice Society of America vol. 2 (1992-93)
  23. The Adventures of Alan Scott--Green Lantern (1992-93)
  24. Damage (1994-96)
  25. The Justice Society Returns! (1999-2001)
  26. Chase (1998-2002)
  27. Stargirl by Geoff Johns (1999-2003)
  28. The Sandman Presents: The Furies (2002)
  29. JSA by Geoff Johns, Book One (1999-2000)

29 July 2022

Reading The Tin Woodman of Oz Aloud to My Son

The Tin Woodman of Oz: A Faithful Story of the Astonishing Adventure Undertaken by the Tin Woodman, assisted by Woot the Wanderer, the Scarecrow of Oz, and Polychrome, the Rainbow's Daughter
by L. Frank Baum, illustrated by John R. Neill

After the sprawling cast of The Lost Princess of Oz, Baum gave the next book a much more focused set of characters. Indeed, of the last four books, The Tin Woodman of Oz is the only one to have nothing like an Oz-in-peril narrative. Instead, it's a personal quest and a story of personal values. I didn't have much memory of this story going in. I mean, I remembered it was about the Tin Woodman questing to find his lost love, and I remember the Tin Soldier and Chopfyt and Nimmie Amee, but I didn't remember anything about the actual plot, and I didn't remember if I liked it or not.

Originally published: 1918
Acquired: April 2022
Read aloud: May 2022

To be honest, post-Tik-Tok my memories from childhood have been much vaguer. I have two theories. One is that from Lost Princess on, I had Del Rey mass market paperbacks, and those shrunk the art down, and I have tended to find that the less spectacular the art, the less clear and less positive my memories. My other is that I was a chronology-focused child as much as I am a chronology-focused adult—if not moreso. So I do wonder if I would plan to reread them all, but not make it all the way through every time, with the end result that I have read the early ones many times but the later ones not as much.

In any case, I might not have many memories of this book but ended up really enjoying it reading it to my three-year-old son. It has a real unity of character and theme that is honestly kind of surprising for Baum. Woot the Wanderer wanders to the Tin Castle of the Tin Woodman in the Winkie Country, and upon being told that the Tin Woodman's whole reason for wanting a heart way back in book one was so that he could love a specific woman, wonders why the Tin Woodman never actually actually got together with her! So together with Woot and the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman sets out on a quest to find her again.

The thing that runs through the book is that the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow have been made somewhat arrogant by their years of adventures and the exalted statuses. They keep blundering into places where they don't belong and aren't wanted because it doesn't occur to them that they wouldn't be wanted—even when Woot points out there's a "KEEP OUT" sign! In some Oz novels, the visits to weird communities feel like padding, but here they highlight what going on with the Tin Woodman's character. When, in the middle of the novel, the Tin Woodman meets up with Dorothy and Ozma, they are both a bit skeptical about his mission to find his lost love... but he goes on anyway. When he finds his own head in a cabinet (more on that here), not even it wants anything to do with him! And then he finds out that Nimmie Amee has no desire to marry him, as she is happily married, and just wants him, like everyone else, to go away. She hasn't been sitting around pining for him; she forgot about him just like he forgot about her. It's a novel about finding joy in what you have already, and not presuming that you are needed where you are not.

There's lots of good stuff here. I liked Mrs. Yoop, the giantess who practices transformation magic, and the cleverness the protagonists need to show in escaping him. Baum thinks through things interestingly as always; Mrs. Yoop has a magic apron that opens and closes doors, which Woot steals, and when he uses it outside, it opens a hole in the ground! Polychrome has a nice substantial appearance, and again as she was in Sky Island, is much less air-headed than she seemed in Road and Tik-Tok, demonstrating a lot of intelligence, and demonstrating some very good fairy magic. The challenge of what to do with the green monkey transformation that Mrs. Yoop saddles Woot with is an interesting one. All this plus an appearance by my favorite minor recurring character, the former general Jinjur, as forceful as ever. (What happened to her husband, though?)

Lastly, this novel shows Baum working through the implications of his worldbuilding, especially the way it had changed over the years. When Baum wrote Wonderful Wizard, people in Oz could die, so there wasn't really any question about the body parts that Nick Chopper had lost. By the time of Tin Woodman, though, Baum had established that people in Oz don't die (and never had*)... even when chopped up into little bits! So why hadn't someone just reattached the lost pieces of Nick Chopper? And what had become of them, if they were still alive? Baum establishes you need "meat glue" to connect body parts, and no one had any... and that Nick Chopper's head has been sitting in a cabinet for decades! It's a perfectly logical outcome of all the (slightly contradictory) worldbuilding, and it could be macabre or disturbing, but Baum, as always, just presents it matter-of-factly. To a kid (I can attest from reading it aloud), it's more funny than anything else.

The creation of Chopfyt, made of leftover "meat" parts of the Tin Woodman and the Tin Soldier, is maybe slightly more disturbing, but there's a real "leave it be" moral in place by that part of the story. If he's who makes Nimmie Amee happy, who is anyone else to complain? Baum was always sort of fascinated by combining people to make other people; it's an idea we saw back in Sky Island, and right now (I am writing this back in mid-June) we are reading one of his other early borderlands fantasies, The Magical Monarch of Mo, where there's a woodchopper who ends up with a king's head glued on his body.

As I (re)read through these books, I'm always thinking about what characters never went on to star again. I quite liked the Tin Solider, the second tin man created by the same tinsmith as the Tin Woodman, who fell in love with the same woman, and ended up rusted in the same forest! At the end of the novel, Ozma assigns him to patrol the (seemingly) lawless Gillikin Country... and he promptly never appears again, aside from a brief cameo at Ozma's birthday party in Magic of Oz, even though the next two novels both largely take place in the Gillikin wilds! I liked his personality (I gave him a not-very-good-I'm-sure-working-class-English accent), and also I really want to know, exactly what army would a Munchkin soldier have been in around the time of Wonderful Wizard? The Tin Soldier of Oz, here we come, I guess!

* This book establishes that people in Oz have been immortal for a long time, clearly contradicting many aspects of Wonderful Wizard and other early novels (though Baum does contort to explain how the Wicked Witches could be killed). It also strongly implies that Ozma has been ruling Oz for a long time, and tells us that she's a fairy, a pretty blatant contradiction of the events we read about in Marvelous Land.

27 July 2022

Burning Brightly: 50 Years of Novacon

Burning Brightly: 50 Years of Novacon
edited by Ian Whates

Novacon is a British science fiction convention that first occurred in 1971. Since 1980, most of the guests of honor at the convention have supplied original works of fiction to be distributed at the convention. This anthology collects many of them, alongside some original fiction (though I think all the suppliers of original fiction were also Novagon GOHs). As a result, this anthology features fiction from many luminaries of British sf: Stephen Baxter, Peter F. Hamilton, Geoff Ryman, Adrian Tchaikovsky, and the late Iain M. Banks all have stories here, among many others.

Published: 2021
Contents: 1989-2021
Acquired and read: December 2021

It's the kind of sf anthology that one might cruelly describe as "perfectly competent." There are few terrible stories here; I found Iain Banks's "The Spheres" (2010) fairly inscrutable and Peter Hamilton's "Softlight Sins" (1997) a somewhat unlikely implementation of a plausible idea, but on the whole the stories here are well put together and certainly not terrible.

On the other hand, there wasn't much here that jumped out to me, nothing that really grabbed me or wowed me the way the best sf does. Everything here is... just fine. One kind of wonders if that's because if there's a story a big-name author if willing to give an sf convention for free, it's because it's not their best work.

The big exception was Ian R. MacLeod's "The God of Nothing" (original to this volume), a neat story about a government functionary forced to invent things like counting in order to satisfy the increasing demands of his king. Neat idea, well done, about technologies we take for granted. I did also like Jaine Fenn's "The Ships of Aleph" (2012), though it was one of those stories where one wants to know what happens next! (It's set in the world of Fenn's Hidden Empire series but I don't think it has any narrative links to any other stories.)

So an okay anthology, but you've almost certainly read better, and you've almost certainly read worse.

26 July 2022

Hugos 2022: She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

This was my antepenultimate Hugo novel for 2022; in fact, my antepenultimate piece of Hugo reading altogether, since I ended up leaving a bunch of novels for the end this year. She Who Became the Sun is a piece of historical fantasy, a fictionalized depiction of Zhu, the person who would go on to be the Hongwu emperor and found the Ming dynasty; Parker-Chan suggests that he was actually a she in disguise, and adds some mild fantasy elements, mostly that Zhu can see ghosts.

Originally published: 2021
Acquired: June 2022
Read: July 2022

I can see why people really like this. I wanted to like it more than I did. It begins very arrestingly, with young Zhu a member of a starving family of peasants. A fortuneteller promises her brother will acquire greatness, but that she will amount to nothing. When the rest of her family succumbs to hunger, she assumes her brother's identity in a desperate bid to live, and in hope of acquiring her brother's fate as well; she lives in fear that she will do things her brother could not or would not have done, and thus no longer be able to lay claim to his fate of greatness. These early parts of the novel, foregrounding Zhu's desperation and deception, are the strongest.

As the novel goes on, it widens its cast of characters, and unfortunately, spends much time on various male warlords who I found it difficult to invest it or even distinguish in terms of personality. They are all nasty, conniving people working to undermine one another, and these sections were much less interesting than the sections focused on our protagonist, who seemed to vanish from the narrative for annoyingly long periods of time. I found it hard to follow the politics here; whether that was because I didn't care about the people, or if my inability to follow the politics made it hard to care about the people, I couldn't say. I think Parker-Chan was trying to depict a species of toxic masculinity, but it soon grew repetitive, and her take on it wasn't very insightful.

There is a very striking moment at the end, harsh and terrible, that really worked for me, though; Zhu is a very interesting character. The triumphalist tone to the marketing around this book is very wrong; at least one blurb I read compares it to Mulan, and it is nothing like Mulan. This is not a story of female empowerment. This is a story of awful people doing awful things to accumulate power, and even if we understand why Zhu does them, she is still awful.

So, decent enough, and I can see why other people might gravitate toward it, but it's a two-book series (at least?), and I can't imagine myself picking up book two unless it also becomes a Hugo finalist.

25 July 2022

Hugos 1963: The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick

Four Novels of the 1960s by Philip K. Dick: The Man in the High Castle / The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch / Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? / Ubik
edited by Jonathan Lethem

Whenever I finish my Hugo reading for the year, I complement it by also picking up the oldest Hugo-winning novel I haven't previously read. For the 2020 Hugos, I read the winner for 1958, The Big Time; I actually have already read all of the winners from 1959 to 1962, so for the 2021 Hugos, that brings me to the winner for 1963, The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick. Dick is an author I'm not as familiar with as I'd like; basically, prior to reading this, I'd only read three things by him, all ones that got turned into movies! (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, A Scanner Darkly, and "The Minority Report") Though I guess this got turned into a tv show, albeit one I never saw. (My dad was a fan.) Anyway, for many years now I've owned a Library of America box set of fourteen of his novels, and I was happy to have the motivation to dip in.

Collection published: 2007
Novel originally published: 1962
Acquired: August 2014
Read: January 2022

Since reading this but before writing up this review, I've gone on to read five more Philip K. Dick novels, and by the standards of many of his later ones, The Man in the High Castle is positively subdued. About a world where the Axis won World War II, and set mostly in Japanese-occupied California, there's not much in the way of a sfnal elements beyond that. I can see why it captured the Hugo electorate (it was one of only two of his many novels to be a Hugo finalist): it's a triumph of worldbuilding. We get a real solid sense of what this new world is like and how it functions, on the most local of levels: people in highway diners, people in factory jobs, people eating dinner together. From this, we can infer and understand the big political stuff that underlies the story and drives it in the background. The whole idea of the Japanese being obsessed with American pop culture, and Americans supplying obsessive collectors with counterfeit American artifacts was quite fascinating.

Dick also demonstrates a real solidity of character; these are ordinary people, both admirable and despicable in their ordinariness, which drives them to do things they often don't understand. I particularly liked Juliana Frink.

The novel is also quite well put together thematically: it's all about people placing value in things based on the extent to which they perceive them to be true, even when they are not actually true. Things mean only what we believe them to mean. When a pair of counterfeiters try to make their own jewelry, no one likes it because it doesn't carry the aura of authenticity, even though it is much more authentic than the fakes they have been making. Does the counterfeit become real if we believe in it enough? This all reaches a thematic climax at the end: many of the characters have been reading a novel about an alternate timeline where the Axis lost World War II, and they have been inspired by it. What the ending makes clear is that this novel-within-a-novel is not "real," as it does not depict our world, the real world where the Axis lost; its author imagines a completely different, and wrong, alternative history. So the book that has been inspiring resistance is utterly fake! But everything else the novel has told is would indicate this doesn't matter, because everyone in the novel believes it is real.

As I said above, I read this in an LOA edition. Editor Jonatham Lethem does a good job on notes throughout the whole volume, but in particular the end notes for this novel are very useful in explaining what German figures were real historical persons, and what their real roles were.

I read an old winner of the Hugo Award for Best Novel every year, plus other Hugo-related books that interest me. Next up in sequence: The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch / Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? / Ubik by Philip K. Dick

22 July 2022

Hugos 2022: Ballots for Novella, Novelette, and Short Story

Here is my first set of ranked Hugo finalists; the short fiction was the first stuff I finished. Can't lie; I always approach short fiction a bit trepidatiously these days, because I don't think my tastes are strongly aligned with the nominators', and the same authors and venues tend to come up again and again. (Three stories are from the same issue of Uncanny!) But that's unfair, because I actually do come across a lot of good, new-to-me short fiction!

Things I Nominated

I nominated just one thing across all three short fiction categories, the short story "Lena" by Sam Hughes, an indie short story writer better known by his screen name (do we say "handle" these days?) of "qntm." It's a fictional Wikipedia entry about the first person to have their mind simulated via computer, and I think I will be teaching it in my "life extension"–themed college class. Anyway, no surprise to not find it on the ballot; Hughes comes out of the SCP Foundation, which I don't think has a lot of Hugo-nominator overlap.


Best Novella

7. A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

Dex realized with a stomach-souring thud that they were standing on the wrong side of the vast gulf between having read about doing a thing and doing the thing.

A "tea monk" spends a bunch of time in the wilderness and meets a robot. Felt like this was about twice as long as it needed to be to make its point. Also for some reason I find Chambers's use of "fuck" jarring. It's not the word in prose in general, just her books. Anyway, bafflingly dull.

6. Fireheart Tiger by Aliette de Bodard

Eldris, after all, is the kind of princess who gets rescued.

Like a lot of de Bodard that I have read, this read less interesting than it would sound if described to me. A young princess in a fantasy world must navigate false friendships and a fire spirit. Felt to me like the story could never quite focus on what it was actually about.

5. Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire

She chose this world, where she could never be normal, over the world she had been made for.

The Wayward Children novellas will continue until the morale improves.

Seriously, though, this was one of the better ones, probably because the twee narrative voice McGuire affects in most of these is largely absent here. It's about an intersex kid who finds belonging in a fantasy world of centaurs and unicorns. I am not convinced the twist made a ton of sense, but I mostly enjoyed it up until that point. Probably better put together than Fireheart Tiger, though I wouldn't rush to recommend either.

4. No Award

If the Hugo electorate will insist on only nominating Tordotcom novellas, then I will insist on using No Award to separate the worthy from the unworthy. (Most of the time I don't bother using it unless I think something is really bad.)

3. A Spindle Splintered by Alix E. Harrow

Maybe the universe doesn't naturally bend toward justice either; maybe it's only the weight of hands and hearts pulling it true, inch by stubborn inch.

I've read a number of pieces by Harrow for the Hugos the past few years, and this is definitely the best of them. This is a sort of postmodern, feminist, ("hopepunk"?) take on Sleeping Beauty, which moves quickly and does some interesting things: a recent college grad with a degenerative disease finds her degree (from OU!) in folklore comes in useful when she's plunged into the world of her favorite fairy tale. It didn't totally grip me, and Elder Race was more in the area of what I find interesting, but a solid entry overall.

2. Elder Race by Adrian Tchaikovsky

I have lived a long, long life and it has meant nothing, and I'm on a fucking quest with a couple of women who don't understand things like germs or fusion power or anthropological theories of value.

An anthropological observer from an advanced but lost culture must team up with a princess from a more primitive one who insists on seeing him as a wizard. Pretty enjoyable but I never found it as arresting as I did, say, The Past Is Red. I think it had some interesting things to say (how different cultures process the same things), but I also felt like it could have been richer thematically. I kept comparing it unfavorably to Le Guin.

1. The Past Is Red by Catherynne M. Valente

“Have you been running a quality assurance test on me all this time, Tetley?” she teases, laughing.
     But I keep eating snap peas and I don't say anything back because when you really think about it, it isn't funny. When humans meet other humans, that's all they do forever.
This is a postapocalyptic novella about a young girl, and then a young woman, who lives in a place called Garbagetown after the seas have risen so high there's no land left anywhere. It has a strong narrative voice, and a strong sense of theme: it's a great story about the places we look for hope, in each other and in stories, and about the ways we're often let down. Obviously it's a Tordotcom novella, but it's not one of the ones that reads like a pilot for a streaming show, it's an actual piece of prose.


Best Novelette 

7. "O₂ Arena" by Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki

Now the merchants of death sold life and oxygen because death was now in abundance, and life was the commodity in demand. You had to pay to breathe. O₂ credit was life. 

Set in the near future where oxygen is scarce; the narrator is a law student in Nigeria who ends up battling in the "O₂ Arena" for more O₂ credits. I kind of felt like the whole story was constructed based on that pun. I thought this was pretty bad, to be honest. It spends a lot of time on things that don't matter (how law school works) and not much time on things that do (the narrator's decisions). The writing is clumsy: it consistently implies a thing but then in the next sentence, tells you the thing anyway.

6. No Award

I don't think "O₂ Arena" is not to my taste (as, say, "Unseelie Brothers" is); I think it's outright bad. Sometime after I originally wrote this post, I realized that meant I should rank it below No Award, so I came back and added that to it. Also I guess I am hedging: this won the Nebula somehow!

5. "Unseelie Brothers, Ltd." by Fran Wilde

Inside, the machines—old Singers, new 3-D printers, and everything in between—waited, surrounded by fireflies and shadows.

A girl in fashion design discovers a magic dress store. It felt pretty aimless at first, and I was like, why am I not enjoying it? Then I remembered that an unseelie is a fairy, and nothing interests me less than a fantasy story about fairies. But I guess it was fine for what it was.

4. "Bots of the Lost Ark" by Suzanne Palmer

As unfathomably alien as humans were, that at least made sense to 9. The Mantra of Perseverance was clearly fundamental to all thinking units.

This is a sequel to Palmer's "The Secret Life of Bots," which was a finalist (and won) in 2018. Like that story, it was entertaining and engaging... but I don't know that I would give it award. Still, not boring like "Unseelie Brothers" nor actively bad like "O₂ Arena."

3. "Colors of the Immortal Palette" by Caroline M. Yoachim

“An art collector is hoarding time. Time spent by the artist applying paint to the canvas, yes. But there is more to it than that. Each successive painting contains something of the time that went into all the previous canvases, not to mention the time spent studying, practicing. And the art holds other time as well—the model that sits for the painting, holding a pose for hours on end. Time that she has devoted, perhaps, to keeping a certain figure, or creating an appealing hairstyle.”

An immortal Japanese woman who has always been known as a model for painters seeks to become a painter herself. Pretty good, with some great observations on gender, race, and art. Nothing wrong with it; just not my favorite.

2. "L’Esprit de L’Escalier" by Catherynne M. Valente

Marriage isn’t what he thought it would be.

She didn’t even thank him for making her breakfast. He doesn’t want that to annoy him the way it does, but he can’t shake it.

A modernized retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, where they're both contemporary celebrities, following their attempts to re-acclimate to normal life after Eurydice's resurrection. If you know my tastes in fiction, you'll know it's quite a compliment for me to say this almost read like it was by Jeanette Winterson.

1. "That Story Isn't the Story" by John Wiswell
Anton knows he doesn’t have a work ethic. The helplines have taught him better. He has a habituated trauma that requires him to do something or face consequences he’s too afraid to think about.

Very clever, well put together, moving story about a gay man escaping the thrall of a vampire, a very unsubtle but very effective metaphor for escaping the pull of an abusive relationship. This one did a great job of putting you in the protagonist's mindset, and of making you unsure what was magic and what was just the protagonist's damaged way of thinking.


Best Short Story

7. Magic: The Gathering: "Tangles" by Seanan McGuire

[T]rees had no gender as such, but dryads did, and upon discovering the concept in her mind, he had considered his choices and decided he preferred the masculine...

I believe that, with the possible exception of one or two Best Graphic Story finalists, this is the first ever piece of tie-in fiction to be a Hugo finalist. The occasional complaints of a tie-in author with whom I was LiveJournal friends with back in the day aside, I am certain that you could count the number of Hugo-worthy tie-in works ever produced on one hand. This confusing, mediocre story is not among them. How ever did it get nominated? (Oh, Seanan McGuire wrote it.)

6. No Award

I think I would wail in despair if a tie-in to a card game won a Hugo Award.

5. "Mr. Death" by Alix E. Harrow

I can’t quote the Book of Death line and verse the way Raz can, but I’m pretty sure there’s a policy somewhere against playing catch in broad daylight with a doomed two-and-a-half-year-old, surrounded by the green hum of summer.

A reaper who when he was alive lost his toddler-aged son is assigned to recover a toddler's soul himself. I liked it most of the way through but found the final turn obnoxiously saccharine, and it ruined the story for me. If it hadn't been for that false moment, it would have ranked much higher.

4. "Unknown Number" by Blue Neufstifter

if you're asking if I named myself after Xena's girlfriend I think you probably already know the answer

Told as a Twitter thread of a series of screenshots of a text conversation, this is about a trans woman being contacted by an alternate universe self who never transitioned. Neat idea well told, but feels more like an exhortation than a story.

3. "Where Oaken Hearts Do Gather" by Sarah Pinsker

>@BarrowBoy all you ever do is mark stretches and shoot down other peoples’ theories without ever offering any yourself. Do you care about this ballad at all?–Dynamum

>I don’t even like this song. The melody’s okay, but it needs a bridge. –BarrowBoy

>Argh. If you don’t like the song, why are you here? –Dynamum 

>For those sweet sweet LyricSplainer level badges. U?  –BarrowBoy

This story is a (fictional) English folk ballad, annotated by commenters on a lyrics-explaining web site. Pinsker has a real mastery of both the ballad form and the culture of Internet commenters, and manages to tell something pretty creepy despite the distanced form. Not as emotionally affected as Pinsker's best work, but middling Pinsker beats most other short story writers' best. I could have gone either way between this and "Sin of America," but there's a clear separation between this and everything I ranked below it.

2. "The Sin of America" by Catherynne M. Valente

The Blue Bison Diner is a ghost’s living room and it is serving the sin of America.

Creepy, literary, effective story about a woman eating "the sin of America" at a crappy diner. Sort of a latter-day "The Lottery" or "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas," but was it really even science fiction or fantasy? Felt more "literary" than that. (By which I mean, I guess there's magic in it, but the magic seems more metaphorical than actual.) I really hated how Valente wrote Space Opera, but her prose on the short fiction ballots this year was great. (Three of them, one per category!) Anyway, neat story I was happy to read.

1. "Proof by Induction" by José Pablo Iriarte
“Don’t you feel anything at all?” He couldn’t remember if his father had ever had a feeling in his damned life.
     “Would it change anything?”
Enjoyable story about a mathematician who uses a simulation of his dead mathematician father to both solve a proof and work through his father issues. Good idea, well told, though that no one else had thought of using mind simulations this way before didn't really ring true to me.


Overall Thoughts

I know I complain every year about Tordotcom and the novella category, but I found this a much better set of novellas than we've seen in a while. Literally none of them felt like streaming show pilots! And The Past Is Red in particular was very strong. On the other hand, Best Short Story felt a bit weak this year; I feel like I placed "Proof by Induction" at the top largely by default.

I find it a little tricky to predict short fiction winners—especially without Murderbot in the mix. This is McGuire's sixth sequential nomination for a Wayward Children novella, but she only won for the first one, so I don't think she'll win it this year. Who'm I kidding, though? It'll be Becky Chambers. But for the other categories, I don't any inkling at all.

20 July 2022

JSA, Book One by Geoff Johns, David Goyer, Stephen Sadowski, Michael Bair, et al.

JSA by Geoff Johns, Book One

Collection published: 2017
Contents published: 1999-2000
Read: April 2022

Writers: Geoff Johns, David Goyer, James Robinson
Artists: Stephen Sadowski, Michael Bair, Buzz, Scott Benefiel, Derek Aucoin, Marcos Martin, Keith Champagne
Colorist: John Kalisz
Letterer: Ken Lopez

In this series of posts, I've been tracking an impending Justice Society renaissance. After the brief flurry of JSA-related material from 1991 to 1993 or so, the JSA was largely left behind... and then it exploded in 1999. That all culminated in JSA, a new ongoing series, the Justice Society's first in six years, and also its longest; it lasted eighty-seven issues, beating out the original All Star Comics run's fifty-seven. Plus, as we'll see going forward, it led to any number of spin-offs and tie-ins.

It seems weird to me that this series of reprints is branded "JSA by Geoff Johns," as he works on just ten of this collection's fifteen issues, and the five he doesn't work on are the first five, which set up what this new team is and how it works. David Goyer is the only one of this volume's contributors who works on every issue. But, I guess if you're Chief Creative Officer and President of DC Comics, you can make sure your name is displayed prominently wherever you like.

I felt like this series was pushing a Dinah/Jack thing. Am I reading in too much? Kind of weird, if so, because their parents had an affair!
from JSA #12 (script by David Goyer & Geoff Johns, art by Buzz)

Basically, this volume sees the reestablishment of the JSA, and like Paul Levitz and Gerry Conway's 1976-79 revival, it makes it into a multigenerational team, leaning into the idea of heroic legacy that Roy Thomas laid the foundations of over in Infinity, Inc. By now, though, we are up to three generations of heroes: we have members of the original team like Alan Scott (formerly Green Lantern, but still ghettoized as "Sentinel" here), Wildcat, and the Flash (Jay Garrick); immediate descendants and sidekicks like Atom-Smasher (formerly Nuklon of Infinity, Inc.), Sand (formerly Sandy the Golden Boy, sidekick to the Sandman), Doctor Fate (Hector Hall, formerly the Sandman, formerly formerly the Silver Scarab of Infinity, Inc.), and Black Canary (Dinah Lance, daughter of the original, Dinah Drake); and then brand-new heroes like the new Starman (Jack Knight), Stargirl (Courtney Whitmore), and the new Hawkgirl (Kendra Saunders). Plus there's a new new Hourman who is some kind of android, and a new new Doctor Mid-Nite who is a white dude.* It's a neat idea, a team composed of mentors and mentees... but I found the book didn't actually do very much with it.

Always up for a Director Bones appearance, but this was a pretty pro forma one.
from JSA #11 (script by David Goyer & Geoff Johns, art by Michael Bair & Buzz)

Overall, this is an approach to team superheroics that wasn't very much to my liking. The book moves from apocalyptic event to apocalyptic event with no time to breathe; I would have very little sense of any of these people as characters if it wasn't for the fact I know them from other books. There are a lot of shock events—deaths and people going evil and people being plunged into terrible universes—but there is little sense that any of it matters, and I found it difficult to care. Geoff Johns always gets a lot of praise for his handling of history and continuity, but I feel like this is only true if you are a character Johns is nostalgic for from his youth. Obsidian from Infinity, Inc., for example, makes a comeback here just to become a villain so that his father, Alan Scott, can angst about its for a few panels. Hector Hall is resurrected... but I'm not really sure why, as once he comes back to life, he exhibits as much personality as a lamp-post. We do hear a lot from Sand... and I would quite frankly like to never do so again. What a poorly conceived, uninteresting character. Has any Golden-Age-kid-sidekick-turned-lead ever worked out except for Robin?

You can tell me he is connected to much more interesting characters... but you can't make me care.
from JSA #1 (script by James Robinson & David Goyer, art by Stephen Sadowski & Michael Bair)

I recently reread my very first post in this series, where I wrote, "I'm not going into the Geoff Johns era because, really, a little bit of Geoff Johns goes much too far in my experience." Over two years later, I actually don't remember thinking that, nor do I remember when I changed my mind and added all the Geoff Johns stuff to my list. There is quite a lot of it: seventy-two more issues of JSA, the spin-off JSA Classified, and the soft reboot of JSA as Justice Society of America vol. 3, plus myriad miniseries. I feel committed at this point—how can I follow the JSA from 1977 to 1999, but not the one more decade it would take to get me up to the end of the "original" JSA with Flashpoint?—but I can't claim to exactly be excited about it all based on reading this.

* Roy Thomas introduced a new Wildcat and a new Doctor Midnight, both women of color, during Infinity, Inc., but I see they were both killed off to prove the situation was serious in an issue of Eclipso back in 1993, paving the way for white dudes to reclaim the mantles. Of course.
 
This post is twenty-ninth in a series about the Justice Society and Earth-Two. The next installment covers Wonder Woman: The 18th Letter: A Love Story. Previous installments are listed below:
  1. All Star Comics: Only Legends Live Forever (1976-79)
  2. The Huntress: Origins (1977-82)
  3. All-Star Squadron (1981-87)
  4. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume One (1983-84)
  5. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume Two (1984-85)
  6. Showcase Presents... Power Girl (1978)
  7. America vs. the Justice Society (1985)
  8. Jonni Thunder, a.k.a. Thunderbolt (1985)
  9. Crisis on Multiple Earths, Volume 7 (1983-85)
  10. Infinity, Inc. #11-53 (1985-88) [reading order]
  11. Last Days of the Justice Society of America (1986-88)
  12. All-Star Comics 80-Page Giant (1999)
  13. Steel, the Indestructible Man (1978)
  14. Superman vs. Wonder Woman: An Untold Epic of World War Two (1977)
  15. Secret Origins of the Golden Age (1986-89)
  16. The Young All-Stars (1987-89)
  17. Gladiator (1930) ["Man-God!" (1976)]
  18. The Crimson Avenger: The Dark Cross Conspiracy (1981-88)
  19. The Immortal Doctor Fate (1940-82)
  20. Justice Society of America: The Demise of Justice (1951-91)
  21. Armageddon: Inferno (1992)
  22. Justice Society of America vol. 2 (1992-93)
  23. The Adventures of Alan Scott--Green Lantern (1992-93)
  24. Damage (1994-96)
  25. The Justice Society Returns! (1999-2001)
  26. Chase (1998-2002)
  27. Stargirl by Geoff Johns (1999-2003)
  28. The Sandman Presents: The Furies (2002)

19 July 2022

Hugos 2022: The Last Graduate by Naomi Novik

The Last Graduate: Lesson Two of The Scholomance
by Naomi Novik

One of the most effective moments I've ever witnessed in fantasy worldbuilding comes in Philip Pullman's The Golden Compass. The book does such a good job with the concept of the dæmons, especially the idea that they are inseparable from their humans, that a mere 150 pages after you learn about this, it viscerally feels like a violation when you discover people out there are separating humans from their dæmons.

Originally published: 2021
Acquired: May 2022
Read: July 2022

Similarly, The Last Graduate has a moment in it that builds on the extensive worldbuilding done here and in the series' first book, A Deadly Education. Our protagonist, El, realizes that the world does not function the way she thought it does. The rules of how the world does work have been so enmeshed in the mind of the reader, that the idea they could work differently feels as disruptive to you the reader as it does to her, a person who actually lives in this world. And it's not just that the world doesn't work the way she thought: it means something for what she will have to do.

I thought A Deadly Education was pretty good, but that it began climaxing at a point where it should have begun escalating. Well, this book really does escalate things. I don't know if A Deadly Education needed to be exactly the way it was, but The Last Graduate takes an expert turn in plot, world, and character that needed the detailed foundation laid in the first book. I said that the first book felt like an interesting Harry Potter riff; this one moves beyond that to be about something. When I read Last Graduate, I felt that Novik was capable of more because I'd read Spinning Silver; now I see that she is up to more, actually something similar to what she was up to in Spinning Silver. That book contains this line that has stayed with me:

There are men who are wolves inside, and want to eat up other people to fill their bellies. That is what was in your house with you, all your life. But here you are with your brothers, and you are not eaten up, and there is not a wolf inside you. You have fed each other, and you kept the wolf away. That is all we can do for each other in the world, to keep the wolf away.

The world of the Scholomance is a brutal one: you have to keep yourself alive at the cost of others because if you don't, you will die. The Last Graduate begins to interrogate that assumption in a way that moves toward an impressive ethic of care. (And, incidentally, reads as a pretty compelling analogy for climate change—or any other entrenched, generational problem.) A Deadly Education was a pretty good novel; The Last Graduate was a great one, and the best Hugo-nominated* novel I've read thus far this year.

* Well, technically, Lodestar-nominated.