Sunday Shorts: Two From Women in Practical Armor

In 2016, Ed Greenwood and Gabrielle Harbowy edited Women in Practical Armor, an anthology of fantasy short stories focused on female warriors while avoiding the trope of skimpy armor. Here are my thoughts on a couple of the stories contained therein.

cover image by Nneirda, design by Eloise Knapp

“No Better Armor, No Heavier Burden” by Wunji Lau

Rose, an older woman with a mysterious past, has settled quietly in a small town in the shadow of a mountain with strange properties called the Blacktooth, where weather does not work the way it does in the rest of Ara. Only one person in town knows anything of her past at all, including that she has two estranged adult sons. The story begins with Rose running towards the town Inn because she’s heard there’s trouble, and only upon arrival does she discover one of her sons, Zaian, being held at swordpoint by Leian (a nearby country) soldiers. From there, the story gains complexity as an excellently written fight scene reveals what Rose and her opponents are capable of along with some of Rose’s secrets (and her son’s). But it’s not all non-stop fighting; the conflict between Rose and the people who want to take Zaian in for a crime he possibly didn’t commit also becomes something of a battle of personality and will. I loved Rose’s personality (take charge, take no bullshit, take chances). Her first-person narrative voice is personable and irascible; her relationship with Zaian is not smooth but still loving as she struggles with why he’s been estranged and why he’s lying to her now. The world building surrounding the characters is really great: the Blacktooth is home to weird energy fluctuations that affect not just the weather but the way magic works. I really want to know more about Rose, Zaian, and the countries of Ara and Lei and the religion of the Steersman.

“The Bound Man” by Mary Robinette Kowal

In Li Reiko’s society, women are the warriors and leaders, while men are the homemakers and scribes. Li Reiko herself is a noted leader and warrior, with two young children: a daughter who will someday be a warrior as well, and a son whose interest in martial arts needs to be dissuaded because it distracts him from honing the skills he’ll need to keep the Histories. Despite her society’s dictates, Li Reiko plays a version of hide-and-seek with her kids that fosters both children’s abilities and awareness. Elsewhere, Halldór, a warrior-priest, struggles to bring the sword of the Chooser of the Slain back to his people’s Parliament while his Duke and the rest of the party that found the legendary sword fall to a bandit raiding party. Halldór chants a rune of power that will bring the Chooser of the Slain from the realm of the gods to the world of men … and Li Reiko is torn from her children and thrust into a world she doesn’t recognize. “The Bound Man” explores the ideological conflict of matriarchal versus patriarchal societies alongside the notion of destiny. Li Reiko is stuck living out a legend/prophecy she had no hand in creating, and the story explores the effects of that on her children and on Halldór’s society. There are moments of this story that are so heartbreaking, and Kowal doesn’t give her characters an uncomplicated way out (no rewriting history, for example). The heart of the story is Li Reiko’s relationship with her kids (the hide-and-seek scene is genuinely heartwarming) and Halldór’s unerring belief in the legend of the Chooser of the Slain and her ability to rescue his country from the Troll King.

I love short fiction in all its forms: from novellas to novelettes, short stories, flash fiction, and drabbles. Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it.

Sunday Shorts: Two From UPGRADED

In 2014, after the heart attack that he thankfully survived and which resulted in the installation of a pacemaker, Clarkesworld editor Neil Clarke put together Upgraded, an anthology of stories about cyborgs. Here are my thoughts on a couple of the stories contained therein.

cover art by Julie Dillon

“Oil of Angels” by Chen Quifan, translated by Ken Liu

This story starts innocuously enough: our unnamed first-person narrator makes her first visit to a highly recommended, difficult-to-get-an-appointment with, massage therapist named Dr. Qing. The doctor, who is blind, works wonders on the main character’s physical and emotional stress via aromatherapy and unusual massage oils. The therapy starts to peel back the layers of the main character’s trauma and troubled relationship with her mother, which she had buried via a device called a MAD (Memory Assistant Device), a common piece of tech everyone in the narrator’s generation (and the one previous) have installed early in life (meaning pretty much everyone in this world below a certain age is a cyborg, unfamiliar with what life would be like without the MAD). The story becomes a treatise on how technology that seems perfect in the moment of adoption often has hidden downsides, and also a moving example of how generational trauma sneaks insidiously into our interior lives. Liu’s translation of Chen’s story is full of beautiful language and sensory detail that put the reader directly in the massage parlor (soothing) but also directly into the narrator’s memories (decidedly not soothing).

“Honeycomb Girls” by Erin Cashier

The future of Cashier’s story is dystopic, with most men living in the squalor of broken-down cities, scraping to make ends meet, while a lucky few get to live in Towers with access to what few women seem to exist. The main character Geo, more cyborg than human, finds himself in a position to see what life in the Towers is like, but at a cost that becomes increasingly hard to pay. Geo clearly has fewer social skills than any of the people around him, reflected in the language of the story; it’s a close third person POV on Geo, combining the stilted syntax of someone who is awkward socially with in-world jargon the reader has to use context clues to understand (which put me in mind of Anthony Burgess’ novella A Clockwork Orange, although Cashier doesn’t make the reader work as hard as Burgess does to understand what’s being said). Richer people taking advantage of poorer people and men taking advantage of women while infrastructure and society collapse are standard issue dystopia, but Cashier brings moments of real human connection into the mix (between Geo and his closest friends among the junk sellers as well as between Geo and the woman he meets in the Tower) that are truly affecting.

I love short fiction in all its forms: from novellas to novelettes, short stories, flash fiction, and drabbles. Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it.

Book Review: THE CITY IN GLASS

TITLE: The City in Glass

AUTHOR: Nghi Vo

215 pages, TorDotCom, ISBN 9781250348272 (hardcover; also e-book and audio)

MY RATING: 5 stars out of 5

Nghi Vo has quickly become one of those handful of authors whose work I will buy without even reading a synopsis about the plot and whose new books I will usually read as soon as I purchase (See also: Seanan McGuire, ‘Nathan Burgoine, Silvia Moreno-Garcia), even if I’m a bit slow when it comes to posting the reviews.

The City in Glass, Vo’s latest novel, is a stunning portrait of responding to grief, recovering from trauma, and finding common ground. The demon Vitrine has been the largely unseen patron of the city of Azril for hundreds of years. Very few of the citizenry know her as more than a legend, and the few that do know she’s real tread a careful path with her. She has loved the city since she first arrived from another continent and has guided it to its current glory. And then a group of angels arrive, declare the city sinful, and destroy it. The angels begin to depart to their higher realm once their “work” is done, but Vitrine manages to curse one of them who then must be left behind. This all happens in the first chapter of the book and is the impetus for the rest of the action, so I’m not really spoiling anything. This first chapter is a master class in how to set a reader up, going from joyful immersion in a new setting to the complete destruction of that setting in a few short pages. Again, since I hadn’t read the front cover flap synopsis, I had no idea what was coming, and I was as devastated as Vitrine.

Vitrine, being immortal, does not have to move on from the ruins of her beloved city to find life and sustenance elsewhere. And so she begins the slow process of watching the land heal and foster new life – and thus, eventually after hundreds of years, a new settlement for her to watch over. We watch Vitrine move through various stages of grief for the loss of not just so many loved ones (both human and animal) but for the mementos and landmarks of the city’s long history. (I cannot help, in retrospect, compare Vitrine’s reactions to what I’ve watched friends in North Carolina go through thanks to last fall’s hurricane, or what I imagine the people of Los Angeles will be going through as they strive to move on from the current fires of winter 2025.) Vitrine cycles through sadness, anger, depression, and excitement for what develops – but Vo makes it clear that these emotions are not compartmentalized or managed on a straight timeline. They overlap, they recur. Setbacks for the city inspire setbacks in Vitrine’s mental and emotional state.

And the presence of the angel she cursed, the being she holds partly responsible (not fully, because the blame lies with the angel’s cohort as well, but they are beyond Vitrine’s reach), does not help her recovery and in fact hinders it for quite some time. Thanks to her curse, the angel is tied to the land that once held Azril and thus is tied to Vitrine. He also goes through a cycle of defiance (that he did anything wrong), regret (at what’s he’s done), and hope (that he can be part of healing the damage to Vitrine’s heart). It is never easy to heal from trauma when the cause of your trauma is still present and a part of your life, and Vo explores that emotional territory beautifully and without attempting to provide any kind of easy “one size fits all” answer to how to navigate the situation.

I also loved the time-lapse “development of a civilization from small settlement to world power” aspect of the book. Vo takes the new city through the stages of agriculture-based to commerce-based and gives it threats domestic, foreign, human, and natural (including a plague). This could have been a much longer, much more detailed novel about the city’s history alone, but viewing the highlights (and low points) of that history through the eyes of an immortal felt more appropriate. This story really is Vitrine’s, and so much can change in the relative blink of an immortal’s eyes.

I cannot recommend The City in Glass highly enough, especially to readers who enjoy deep character studies accompanied by intriguing worldbuilding.

I received an electronic advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The City in Glass was published in October 2024, so this review is a bit late.

Sunday Shorts: Two from Knaves

In Knaves: A Blackguards Anthology (Outland Entertainment, 2018), Editors Melanie R. Meadors and Alana Joli Abbott brought together 14 stories about anti-heroes, heroes discovering the darker sides of themselves, and villains discovering their nobler aspects. Here are my thoughts on two of the stories contained in an anthology that covers a variety of genres.

cover art by Daniel Rempel

“Daughter of Sorrow” by Maurice Broaddus

“Our kind is never alone.” I really wasn’t sure, thanks to that opening sentence, what genre of story I was in for. “Our kind” meaning … vampires? Clandestine super-humans? Aliens living among us? So many possibilities, and any of them would have been interesting in Broaddus’ hands. What we get is the tale of Rianna, a teenage girl whose family is part of a secret society that runs the world. Rianna’s father is missing and presumed dead, which leaves her adrift and in harm’s way thanks to the society’s rules. Broaddus reveals the danger she’s in through a series of encounters with classmates and doles out the details of her relationship with her father via flashbacks. The alternating scenes build the suspense of both storylines effectively up to the moment they come together. The story is complete unto itself but did leave me wanting more of both Rianna and the Grendel Society.

The Life and Times of Johnny the Fox by Sabrina Vourvoulias

“The Life and Times of Johnny the Fox” is a story about a classic trickster personality, about community, and about doing the right thing even when it’s not the easy thing.

One of the many things I love about this story is what I can only describe as the “street corner urban legend” style of the narration. Imagine walking through a Philadelphia neighborhood, stopping into a bodega for a bottle of water or soda while you’re in the middle of telling your companion a local legend you’ve heard, and having someone say, “I am here to tell you the truth about the Johnny the Fox.” That first sentence sets that tone, and the rest of the story delivers on it.

Every Sabrina Vourvoulias story has an undeniable rhythm, a musicality that drives it. “The Life and Times of Johnny the Fox” is no exception. There’s the beat of the narration, a very particular style of storytelling that sweeps you up and carries you along. But music, singing especially, also plays a part in the main action of the story as Johnny returns to Puerto Rico at a particularly dangerous time for the island, to try to do what he does best: convince someone not to do the terrible thing they’re about to do. But even the most charismatic people stumble sometimes, and how Johnny recovers from that with the help of a community that loves him (even if they don’t always like him) is just as important as whether he succeeds.

2025 Reading Challenges

I always set myself more than one reading challenge per year. Some carry over from year to year, and some are new. Some are broad and some are themed. And in many cases, books read will help me meet more than one challenge. Last year I also started making some formal movie, television, and live theatre viewing challenges.

On the reading side of things, in 2024, I hit my overall book and short story goals and blew past my non-fiction reading sub-goal, but didn’t complete any of the other reading challenges I set myself. On the watching side of things, I exceeded my goal for live theater, but only hit about 70% of my television goal and slightly less than 50% of my movie-watching goal.

So I decided this year, I’m sticking to the basics:

365 SHORT STORIES CHALLENGE

Every year, I challenge myself to read one short story per day. Some years I keep the pace well, and some years I fall behind and then scramble to catch up (and some years, I catch up and fall behind again, and some years I blow past the goal handily). I’m defining “short story” as anything from flash fiction to novella-length. I am going to once again make an effort to review one or two stories every Sunday in my “Sunday Shorts” feature.

GOODREADS CHALLENGE

Goodreads allows members to set a challenge. In previous years, I’ve set goals ranging from 125 to 150 books. For 2024, I’m setting a goal of 120 to start with (10 books per month), and we’ll see what happens.

MOVIE CHALLENGE

I own a lot of DVDs. (I know, you’re shocked. Shocked!) Every year I say, “This is the year I’m going to make an effort to watch them!” And then, somehow, I … don’t. One year, I did a list of 12 and two alternates as I do for the TBR Challenge, called it the TBW Challenge … and failed it miserably. Last year, I got about halfway to the goal of 52 movies, an average of one per week. So this year, I’m setting myself the same challenge. This includes movies on DVD, streaming services, and any trips to an actual movie theater (which have become rare for me).

TELEVISION CHALLENGE

Did I mention I own a lot of DVDs? And that I’m subscribed to a lot of streaming services? I did? Well, you won’t be shocked to know that it’s not all about the movies. So I’m setting myself a “TV Series Watch” challenge akin to my Short Story Challenge: an average of one full episode of a television series (regardless of length) for each day in the year, which this year means 365 episodes.

LIVE THEATRE CHALLENGE

I did pretty well with this one in 2023, even though I never posted about it (because I posted extraordinarily little here in 2023, but that’s a subject for another post), so I’m making it official for 2024: I want to see at least 1 live theatrical performance per month. Most of them will be in New York City, but I’ll count any play, musical, opera, ballet, or staged reading I see anywhere, regardless of whether it’s fully professional productions, college, community theatre, whatever. (Music concerts, author signings, and conferences/conventions do not count towards this.)

ACCOUNTABILITY

So how am I going to hold myself accountable? I’m planning to bring back my monthly Reading RoundUps. I’m not going to rename/rebrand because I like the alliterative title (which falls well in line with Series Saturday, Sunday Shorts, and a few other blog series I’m hoping to make regular features in 2025), but those posts will also track the Viewing challenges.

I would love to hear what YOUR Reading, Writing, or Viewing Challenges are for 2024. Let me know in the comments!

Book Review: TIDAL CREATURES

TITLE: Tidal Creatures (Alchemical Journeys #3)

AUTHOR: Seanan McGuire

453 pages, TorDotCom, ISBN 9781250333551 (hardcover; also e-book and audiobook)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

Tidal Creatures continues to build out the world Seanan McGuire introduced us to in Middlegame and deepened in Seasonal Fears. Like Seasonal Fears, it starts off by introducing us to a new batch of characters that personify/anthropomorphize a new set of universal concepts. In this case, embodiments of the Moon in all the forms such embodiments have taken throughout all the world’s mythologies. Unlike the main characters of Middlegame (who are forced to become the embodiment of the Doctrine of Ethos by their Maker) and Seasonal Fears (who become embodiments only after winning a competition), the human embodiments of the Moon are chosen by the Moon gods/goddesses themselves and the situation is less “embodiment” and more “time-share.” The human avatars of the Moon are able to go about their lives as essentially human, except when the Moon needs to shine through them and the resident Moon god/dess must take full control. I loved this idea that in a universe where almost every natural concept/constant is embodied, the ways the embodiments function can be so varied.

Where Seasonal Fears was a road-trip novel, Tidal Creatures is a murder-mystery. (It’s been long enough since I’ve read Middlegame that I’m not sure what classic genre I’d place it in (I really need to do a re-read), but at this point I’m almost positive part of McGuire’s plan for this series is to use the trappings of a different classic genre for each entry.) Someone is killing the moon gods of the San Francisco area. Which is a problem because part of the job of the Moon gods is to cross the sky above the Impossible City (the heart of all creation, thanks to the alchemy of an author named A. Deborah Baker). The moon gods who notice what’s happening must figure out who is doing it before they can wrest control of the Impossible City (and thus, the universe) for themselves. This is a very “fair play” mystery – meaning all the clues are there for the reader to figure out the who, why, and how (because how the murder that start the book was even possible, given the victim was the living embodiment of the moon and fully empowered when it happened, is part of the mystery). Readers who enjoy having a juicy mystery in the middle of their fantasy/horror hybrid novel will not be disappointed and will probably enjoy the challenge of figuring it all out before the characters do.

Several of the main characters of the novel are the local embodiments of three moon goddesses and a moon god: Judy (Chang’e), Anna (Artemis), Professor Williams (Diana), and David (Máni). They are more like co-workers than friends, and even though they are all embodiments of the Moon, they are embodiments of different Moon deities, with different mindsets and histories, so they are not automatically best friends and comrades. I really appreciated that while two of these moon deities are familiar to just about anyone who experienced a public-school education in the United States, McGuire went out of her way to make the other two deities from non-Eastern-European traditions, and to give us a deep sense of what those deities were like in those traditions. She made me want to learn more about Chang’e and her peaches of immortality, Máni, and others who are mentioned but play less significant roles in the way the story plays out (Losna, Aske).

The moon deities are not the only main characters. There’s also Kelpie, a woman who thought her current unusual body type (mostly human, but with orange skin and legs that end in hooves and a few more subtle differences) was the result of a horrible lab accident that also wiped her memory. She learns what she really is and goes on the run from her employers, the Alchemical Congress of the United States, after her friend and mentor is killed for seemingly failing in a project designed to get the Congress access to the Impossible City before it is claimed by its rightful rulers. She encounters a boy name Luis and his mother, Isabella, who is an hechicera (a type of sorceress), who join her in her quest to find someone who can help her understand herself and help stop the man pursuing her.

In Kelpie, we have one of the most stunning portrayals of a person escaping and overcoming the trauma of gaslighting that I think I’ve ever read – a woman whose whole sense of self and purpose gets uprooted and who still finds ways to stay strong, move forward, and come to terms with what she really is. In Isabella, we get a stark indictment of the ways in which European colonization practically (and in some cases, totally) eradicated other belief systems (by absorption or by destruction).

I found aspects of each of the main characters relatable, and I came to care for all of them as much as I did the main characters of Middlegame and Seasonal Fears. And for those wondering, I can say without spoilers that while the MCs of Seasonal Fears only get a few passing mentions, the MCs of Middlegame enter the story much earlier, and play a much bigger role, than they did in Season Fears.

Fans of Seanan McGuire, fans of mystery-fantasy-horror hybrids, fans of tales of moon deities: you’ll find something to love about this book. BUT – you should probably at least read Middlegame if not Seasonal Fears before Tidal Creatures, to understand the alchemical underpinnings of the world and the history of the Alchemical Congress.

I received an advance reading pdf of this book for free via NetGalley from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. I received and read the ARC well before publication date but dropped the ball on posting the review until now. Tidal Creatures is currently available wherever books are sold.

You can read my review of book two in the series, Seasonal Fears, HERE. Somehow, I never posted a review of Middlegame. I’ll have to reread it and fix that one of these days.

Book Review: SILVER NITRATE

TITLE: Silver Nitrate

AUTHOR: Silvia Moreno-Garcia

368 pages, Del Ray, ISBN 9780593355381 (paperback, also hardcover, e-book and audio)

MY RATING: 5 stars out of 5

MY THOUGHTS: Sometimes, horror slams into your life blatantly and unavoidably, and sometimes it slowly insinuates its way into your life, growing incrementally with plenty of easy-to-miss warning signs. Thus it is in Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Silver Nitrate – a subtle sense of unease at the start grows into full-blown supernatural horror by the end, a journey that, like the characters, you won’t be able to stop once you start no matter how many signs there are warning you away.

In 1990s Mexico City, Monserrat (a movie sound editor), her childhood best friend Tristán (a struggling actor), and Abel (a retired director) uncover the secrets of a “lost film” from the 1960s, a film Monserrat and Tristán have been obsessed with since high school and which Abel actually directed but left incomplete, leading to the realization that magic is real and to a cult that wants to bring their dead leader back to life. Along the way there are magical changes of fortune, ghosts, and dark presences.

I’ve become quite a fan of “lost film” and “forgotten television series” stories over the past few years (see: Will Ludwigsen’s Acres of Perhaps, for instance), and I was already a big fan of Silvia Moreno-Garcia (I haven’t read everything she’s ever written, but I’m working on it), so of course the combination of author and concept would catch my eye. Silver Nitrate, in case you haven’t already figured it out, did not disappoint.

Moreno-Garcia’s characters are always nuanced and complex. Montserrat, Tristán, and Abel are no exceptions. Montserrat juggles frustrations with family and a misogynistic boss with her self-admittedly unrequited love for Tristán. She could do better on both the employment and romantic fronts if she could just let go of these things/people she loves, but she can’t bring herself to break from either. Tristán had it all as a devilishly handsome soap opera star in a tempestuous relationship with his co-star girlfriend until a car accident took both away from him. He too cannot let go: of the love, of the guilt, of wanting to regain his career. And Abel – well, Abel starts the story at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum from Montserrat and Tristán, having given up career and love and become an alcoholic recluse … until they come along to rekindle his interest in his lost project. They are not quite “three points on a triangle,” but they are on an emotional continuum. Moreno-Garcia illustrates the push and pull they exert on one another in small moments and large confrontations that keep the book’s emotional stakes high.

That emotional push and pull also makes it easy for each of them to ignore the warning signs that things are getting dangerous, and that what seemed like a light bit of magic at first is pulling them into something darker and potentially fatal. I don’t want to say too much about the reveals in the last quarter of the book, but I will say Moreno-Garcia is great at blending the literary equivalent of a “jump scare” with the kind of psychological horror that typically eschews jump scares. And she kept me guessing right up to the denouement as to how things were going to play out.

Fans of psychological and supernatural horror, fans of “lost film” stories, and fans of period pieces (yes, as much as it pains me to say it, stories set in the 1990s are now “period pieces”) will all find Silver Nitrate a worthy read. Check it out.

I received an electronic advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. I received and read the ARC before the book was published but dropped the ball on posting the review. The paperback edition was released on May 21st, 2024, and is available in all the usual places. Also, Moreno-Garcia’s newest novel is The Seventh Veil of Salome, which also has to do with a classic period of filmmaking. I’m hoping to read that soon.

Reading Round-Up: August 2024

Here’s what I read, listened to, and watched in August 2024!

BOOKS

I read 8 books in August: 3 in print, 3 in e-book format, and 2 in audio format. They were:

1.       My West Side Story: A Memoir by George Chakiris and Lindsay Harrison (E-BOOK, Non-fiction Challenge)

2.       A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne, (Narrated by Tim Curry) (AUDIOBOOK)

3.       Superman Batman: Saga of the Super Sons by Bob Haney, Dick Dillin, Vince Colletta, Tex Blaisdell, and others (PRINT; Graphic Novel Challenge)

4.       Stormgate Press Quick Reads Book #1: The Purple Mystique by Charles Millhouse (PRINT)

5.       Tournament Manners: A Martial Arts Mystery by Jess Faraday (E-BOOK)

6.       In the Hands of Women by Jane Loeb Rubin (PRINT) REVIEW HERE

7.       The Butterfly Mosque: A Young American Woman's Journey to Love and Islam by G. Willow Wilson (AUDIOBOOK; Non-fiction Challenge)

8.       A Princess of Mars: Shadow of the Assassins by Ann Tonsor Zeddies (e-book) REVIEW HERE

STORIES

Here’s what I read this month and where you can find them if you’re interested in reading them too. If no source is noted, the story is from the same magazine or book as the story(ies) that precede(s) it.

1.       “The Darkness Between the Stars” by Richard Thomas in Lightspeed Magazine #171, edited by John Joseph Adams

2.       “Resistance” by Cat Rambo

3.       “The Quality of Mercy Is Not Strain'd” by Archita Mittra

4.       “Under the Skin” by Deborah L. Davitt

5.       “Mud Maidens Rise” by K.A. Wiggins

6.       “Look at the Moon” by Dominique Dickey

7.       “What's in a Name?” by Matthew Hughes

8.       “Child of the River” by Oluwatomiwa Ajeigbe

9.       “The Lazarus Cabal” by Sean Lee Levin, from The Lazarus Cabal, edited by Michael Croteau

10.   “Daily Nightly” by Jim Beard, from Moonstone Double Shot May 2024, edited by Joe Gentile

11.   “Streets of Blood” by Richard Scanlan

12.   “The Time Capsule” by Alice Towey, from Clarkesworld #214, edited by Neil Clarke

13.   “The Sort” by Thomas Ha

14.   “A Night in Purple” by Charles Millhouse, from Stormgate Press Quick Read Book #1: The Purple Mystique, edited by Charles Millhouse

15.   “Death in Purple” by Charles Millhouse

16.   “Into the Valley of Death” by William Meikle, from Creature Feature, edited by William Meikle

17.   “Home from the Sea” by William Meikle

18.   “A Rock and a Hard Place” by William Meikle

19.   “One Ear Left Over” by Jonathan Olfert, from Beneath Ceaseless Skies #413, edited by Sean H. Andrews

20.   “An Isle in a Sea of Ghosts” by J.A. Prentice

21.   “Once There Was Water” by Katie McIvor, from The Dark #111, edited by Sean Wallace

22.   “The Operculum Necklace” by Megan Chee

23.   “Bite Me, Drink Me, Get Me” by H. Pueyo

24.   “To Call the Lightning” by Rebecca Burton, from Kaleidotrope Summer 2024, edited by Fred Coppersmith

So that’s 24 short stories in August. Less than “1 per day” again, which keeps me slightly behind for the year! (August 31st was the 244th day of 2024.)

MOVIES

I watched four movies in August:

1.       We Are Doc Savage (2024)

2.       Logan (2017)

3.       The Hitch-Hiker (1953)

4.       West Side Story (1961)

The week ending August 31st was the 35th week of the year, so I’m still behind on the “1 movie per week” challenge.

TELEVISION

·       Batman: Caped Crusader Season 1, Episodes 1 – 10 (10 episodes) REVIEW HERE

·       Slow Horses Season 3, Episodes 1 – 6 (6 episodes)

·       Only Murders in the Building Season 4, Episode 1 (1 episode)

·       The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power Season 2, Episodes 1 – 3 (3 Episodes)

That’s 20 episodes of television, which puts me still well below the “1 per day” I was shooting for and keeps me behind the pace for this challenge.

LIVE THEATER

I saw two live theatrical performances in August:

1.       Back to the Future: The Musical (Winter Garden Theater, New York City) REVIEW HERE

2.       Once Upon a Mattress (Hudson Theatre, New York City) REVIEW HERE

Summary of Challenges:

“To Be Read” Challenge: This month: 0 read; YTD: 6 of 15 read.

366 Short Stories Challenge: This month:  24 read; YTD: 226 of 366 read.

Goodreads Challenge: This month: 8 read; YTD: 83 of 120 read.

Graphic Novels Challenge:  This month: 1 read; YTD: 16 of 52 read.

Non-Fiction Challenge: This month: 2 read; YTD: 14 of 12 read.

Read the Book / Watch the Movie Challenge: This month: 0 read/watched; YTD: 2 read/watched.

Movie Challenge: This month: 4 watched; YTD: 21 of 52 watched.

TV Shows Challenge: This month: 20 episodes watched; YTD: 169 of 366 watched.

Live Theater Challenge: This month: 2 shows attended; YTD: 11 of 12 attended.

Book Review: IN THE HANDS OF WOMEN

TITLE: In The Hands of Women

AUTHOR: Jane Loeb Rubin

340 pages, Level Best Books, ISBN 9781685123468 (softcover, also e-book)

MY RATING: 5 stars out of 5

Jane Loeb Rubin’s In the Hands of Women is an engrossing historical fiction novel (a genre I readily admit I am not well-read in). Taking place in the early 1900s and set against the backdrop of the pre-WW1 immigration surge and the Women’s Suffrage movement, the book tracks the life and career of Hannah Isaacson as she attends Johns Hopkins Medical School to become one of the first accredited female doctors working in the relatively new field of obstetrics, and then returns to her family in New York City to practice.

Hannah is a multi-faceted narrator. She is a survivor of poverty and trauma (the death of her mother when she was just a toddler from breast cancer, the remarriage of her father, the death of her best childhood friend from consumption) who has been motivated by that trauma, and by the love of the older sister who raised her and the support of a local physician who believed in her, to pursue a career in medicine at a time when women weren’t encouraged to be doctors (leaving many to “settle,” as it were, for nursing or midwifery). Stalwart friends and family surround her both at medical school and when she’s practicing in New York. I enjoyed the depth of character Rubin gives to not just the supporting cast but even the tertiary characters. In addition to Hannah, the book has a lot of strong and complex women characters, from Hannah’s older sister Tillie to her medical school best friend Elspeth to her secretary Ina and including some real-life women at the time: Johns Hopkins trustees Mrs. Garrett and Mrs. Thomson, and controversial Suffragist movement / sex education advocate Margaret Sanger at the beginning of her career. Not every strong woman in the book is on Hannah’s side though. There’s a particularly nasty prison warden who plays a significant role in the second half of the book.

The book’s male characters are equally split between supportive (Dr. Boro, her mentor; Tillie’s husband Abe; Hannah’s stepmother’s second husband) and horrible (several other medical students at Johns Hopkins, among others). The attitude that even accomplished professional women were “second class” in relation to men, that they should be thankful for men’s attention and also clean up men’s mistakes without complaint, permeates the book as it permeated the time, as does the limited options for women in terms of understanding and thoughtful healthcare, including birth control and abortion rights, of the time. I would like to say these issues made the book feel purely historical, but unfortunately, we know very well how much and yet how little has changed in the past 120 years. The novel informs without preaching, the issues of the time a natural part of the narrative and reflective of our current environment.

In addition to women’s rights, the book also puts a laser-focus on immigration, the waves of Irish, Italians, and Eastern European Jews that filled the southern half of Manhattan in the years between the end of the Civil War and the advent of Prohibition. The majority of the main characters are recently immigrated or first-generation Russian Jews but their story is reflective of what immigrants of other nationalities and faiths were experiencing at the time. The squalor so many of them lived in, having fled even worse in Europe, impacted the city’s crime rate and public health. The overlapping issues of poverty, crime, and public health (and even more so, women’s health) become the focus of Hannah’s career.

Hannah also has a personal growth arc that takes her from a naïve medical school student to a woman who can stand up to bullies (both the political and romantic/sexual type). I enjoy novels where characters come into their own, and Rubin accomplishes that subtly and completely.

Highly recommended to fans of historical fiction that centers complex female characters!

Macbeth Monday: Macbeth (an undoing)

Let’s face it: the women of Shakespeare’s Macbeth are ill-served by the script. The witches are largely stereotypes, there to move the plot along and provide some spookiness amid all the murder; Lady MacDuff appears in only one scene, by the end of which she’s dead; and while she is as commanding a presence as her titular husband at the start of the play, Lady Macbeth’s impact on the action quickly diminishes to nothing, ultimately resulting in an off-stage suicide. Over the years, there have been many attempts to delve deeper into the characters of the women of Macbeth (and their real historical counterparts) or to rewrite their roles and histories. One such successful recent attempt is Zinnie Harris’ Macbeth (an undoing), produced first by the Royal Lyceum Edinburgh and then brought to the states at Polonsky Shakespeare Center’s Theatre for a New Audience in Brooklyn, New York, where I saw it in its limited run in April 2024.

Harris puts the women at the center of the action, restructures their relationships to each other (Ladies Macbeth and MacDuff are cousins, raised together; Lady Macbeth and the Witches (here called Carlin, Mae, and Missy) have a history) as well as to the men (the marriage of MacDuff and Lady MacDuff is far from harmonious here), reorganizes the famous speeches to bring out different depths.

And damn, is it powerful stuff. (I’m not going to pretend the power of the piece is why I’m posting this review five months after I saw the show, which would be a lie. It’s pure procrastination. But here we are.)

As much as I love Shakespeare’s play, it has long bothered me (as it has so many other people; I am hardly the first to point this out) how diminished Lady Macbeth’s role becomes, and how sharply her character changes midway through the play. At the start, she is the strong one, holding to their shared purpose, pushing Macbeth to do what must be done to secure the prophecy the witches gave him, while he is the one who is indecisive, who hallucinates both visually (the dagger) and aurally (the voices crying “Macbeth doth murder sleep…”). Then that all changes, with Lady Macbeth going insane between scenes, reappearing as guilt-wracked sleepwalker, then dying off-stage while Macbeth stays “strong” (for some value of the word) against his rebellious thanes. Harris turns this on its head, in a fantastic sequence of scenes that serve both characters better, in my humble opinion. These are scenes that Shakespeare probably couldn’t have written in his time, but they work now.

Of course, they work so well because they are in conversation with Shakespeare’s work rather than trying to replace it. Throughout the script, several characters break the fourth wall (most notably Carlin, the eldest “witch,” at the start of the play and at the start of the second act, but also Lady Macbeth and others) acknowledging not only that they know they’re in a play but also that they have veered from the script to look at the story from a different angle. That new angle allows Harris to discuss misogyny, gaslighting, and the threat men seem to think strong women pose (in a particularly telling moment, the Thanes begin to address Lady Macbeth as “King,” and claiming it is his Lady who is slowly going insane … because they just can’t deal with the idea that a woman might be running the country not just capably but more capably than the man they elected; remembering those scenes now, in late August 2024, they definitely resonate stronger).

The production is set in a kind of nebulous 1930s, with costumes and furniture clueing the audience in. The staging made incredible use of moving mirrored walls, which indicate not just the walls closing in on the Macbeths but also how everyone’s actions reflect upon themselves and others. As you may be able to tell, I’m trying not to spoil too much of Harris’ changes; there are some moments that need to be seen in their fully staged glory to be as thought-provoking as they should be.

I do have to credit the cast. Nicole Cooper as Lady Macbeth, Emmanuella Cole as Lady MacDuff and Mae (the middle witch), Adam Best as Macbeth, James Robinson as Banquo, and Liz Kettle as Carlin led a great ensemble. This is not to denigrate the rest of the cast. These characters are on stage the most and command most of the attention. Kettle’s Carlin (who at the top of the show is giving a tweak on the lines Shakespeare gave the Porter, who is otherwise missing) was particularly captivating.

If you get to see a performance of this script, don’t hesitate! It’s an intense night of theater, but well worth the intensity to see a familiar story from an angle that plays off the original’s timelessness while still pointing a lens at our modern world.

I was unfamiliar with Zinnie Harris’ work before this, but I will be seeking out performances of not only her reconstructions/reinventions of other classic plays but her totally original work as well.

It is no secret that my favorite Shakespeare play is Macbeth. I’ve lost count of how many live productions of it I’ve seen, plus movie and TV versions I own in various formats, not to mention all the novels, graphic novels, and non-fiction books. Macbeth Monday is intended to be an occasional feature on the blog where I discuss whatever version or aspect of the story catches my attention at a particular moment.