Category Archives: Stories

BOOK REVIEW: Meeting the Dog Girls by Gay Terry

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Meeting the Dog Girls: StoriesMeeting the Dog Girls: Stories by Gay Terry
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Amazon page

This collection consists of 30 pieces of short fiction that might be put in the bucket of speculative fiction. (“Speculative fiction” being defined as existing in a world unlike our own–i.e. sci-fi, horror, strange tales, and fantasy.) The stories are cross-genre, but “tales of the weird” is a common theme. Many of the pieces are too long for flash but on the short side of short story, though there are also a number that are of typical short story length.

It’s a mixed bag not only in terms of genre, but also in terms of the appeal. There were a few stories that I enjoyed, others that I didn’t care for, and—worst of all–a number that were utterly forgettable. Besides the strangeness, there’s another quality that might be called “quirky humor” that sparkles here and there throughout the collection.

Among the pieces that I found most interesting and readable were: “Spirit Gobs,” “Barbara Hutton Toujours,” “On Orly’s Border,” “Icon,” and “Meeting the Dog Girls.”

There’s a mini Tai Chi theme running across a couple of pieces, so I dig that.

If you enjoy tales of the strange and you can pick this book up at a good price, you just might like it.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Monstrous edited by Ellen Datlow

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The MonstrousThe Monstrous by Ellen Datlow
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Release Date: October 27, 2015

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This is a story anthology offering tales of monsters—just not your everyday monsters. In her Introduction, Editor Ellen Datlow said her solicitation for stories asked for “unusual monster stories.” She wanted neither “human monsters” (i.e. no pedophiles or serial killers) nor was she interested in your classic Transylvanian Count Dracula. With this book’s 20 stories, the authors succeed in meeting Datlow’s request—in several cases spectacularly. Some of the stories are chilling, others are creepy, and two are even humorous, but all feature monsters that are out of the ordinary, or—at least—the monsters are in extraordinary situations.

Without further ado, I’ll offer a brief synopsis of, and comments on, the stories in this anthology:

1.) A Natural History of Autumn by Jeffery Ford: Set in Japan, a salaryman takes a girl-next-door escort to a remote onsen (thermal springs bathhouse and inn.) Neither of the main characters is what they seem, and, therein, lies the story’s appeal.

2.) Ashputtle by Peter Straub: A beloved kindergarten teacher describes her life and experience of the disappearance of a bright student. This story comes closest to violating the “no human monsters” proviso, but it creates a character so intriguing that you don’t necessarily care.

3.) Giants of the Earth by Dale Bailey: Miners stumble onto something unexpected deep within the Earth. This wasn’t one of the more engaging or memorable works, though it does have an intriguing premise.

4.) The Beginning of the Year without Summer by Caitlín R. Kiernan: A professor and a young, female townie chat by lakeside, and also a discovered book is returned. This is one of two southern gothic pieces, and is more engaging for the conversation between the intelligent professor and a more “common” young woman than for monstrous or supernatural elements.

5.) A Wish from a Bone by Gemma Files: An archeological team in a war zone stumble into more than they signed up for. Like a terrestrial Aliens movie with Sumerian evil spirits in lieu of aliens.

6.) The Last Clean, Bright Summer by Livia Llewellyn: A teenaged girl in a dystopian future travels with her parents to the sea for a rite of passage of an unexpected and haunting variety. This is one of the most visceral entries, and the author captures the teenage voice to great effect. This is in my top five stories from the anthology.

7.) The Totals by Adam-Troy Castro: A get-together between monsters to discuss quarterly figures and give out performance awards. This is one of the humor-oriented pieces—though not to the extent of the Monsters animated movies. The two humor pieces (the other being How I Met the Ghoul) offer two different angles on monster humor. This piece is set in a monstrous world, but juxtaposed against that eeriness is the work-a-day feature of a staff meeting. (The other story is set in our world—or at least a very mundane world reminiscent of ours—and draws its humor from the introduction of the monster into the midst in a very banal environment.)

8.) The Chill Clutch of the Unseen by Kim Newman: The last monster killer waits for the last monster to steam into town. This is one of the entries with a wild west feel to it. A common approach in this collection is to create unusual monster stories by putting monsters that may or may not be usual (in this case they aren’t) into settings and across from characters that one wouldn’t expect to see them.

9.) Down Among the Dead Men by Jack Dann and Gardner Dozois: A man discovers that his best friend in a Nazi concentration camp is a vampire. Referring to the previous entry (i.e. the Kim Newman story), this is an example of a typical monster (a vampire) given new life by placing it in a context that one would least expect to find it—a concentration camp. This was also one of my top five from this collection.

10.) Catching Flies by Carole Johnstone: A girl and her baby brother are removed from a household (by a DFACS-like entity) after their mother dies from mysterious causes. I mentioned a story done in the voice of a teenager. This is one of a few entries written in the voice of a child—which is very apropos for an anthology about monsters.

11.) Our Turn Too Will One Day Come by Brian Hodge: A man is called in the middle of the night, and asked to come and bring a shovel—which is, needless to say, never a good situation. The monsters, while fascinatingly described and unique, are almost superfluous to this story. The monsters appear only at the end, and it would be a highly readable story without them—though it would be in the wrong collection sans the monsters.

12.) Grindstone by Stephen Graham Jones: A man who’s been shot up is fleeing from something across desolate territory. This is the other entry with a very Western feel to it. This is also one of the shortest entries of the batch.

13.) Doll Hands by Adam L. G. Nevill: Set in a dystopian future, a laborer in a luxury building takes matters into his own (doll-like) hands when he can no longer accept the atrocities the super-wealthy patrons of the building are perpetrating. One of the great features of this story is that it creates visual imagery that one isn’t sure whether to take literally or just descriptively. For example, the lead baddie is an old, rich woman who’s described in avian terms. It’s clear that something has gone terribly wrong in this world, though there is strategic ambiguity as to what. This is in my top five.

14.) How I Met the Ghoul by Sofia Samatar: A reporter conducts an interview with a ghoul in an airport lounge. This is the other story that is more comedy than horror. The comedy is born of putting the monstrous creature in a mundane setting during a workaday interview. It’s not even the kind of hard-hitting story that a well-known journalist would take on, but more like a cub reporter doing a human interest featurette.

15.) Jenny Come to Play by Terry Dowling: A former Siamese twin, separated from her twin as a teenager, admits herself into a psychiatric hospital where her psychiatrist tries to separate fact from fiction and the twisted imaginings of insanity from reality. These Siamese twins shared no common organs, just muscle, and were ideal candidates for separation as infants. However, their father kept them conjoined (and much worse) so that they could be the main attraction in his cabinet of curiosities. Not only is this story in my top five, I’d have to call it my favorite of the bunch. It reminds me a little of the work of the novelist team Preston and Child at their best. It has the same combination of creepiness and dark foreboding, while keeping one in the dark as to what imaginable events have actually transpired.

16.) Miss Ill-kept Runt by Glen Hirshberg: A family drives through the night to go to stay with family as if fleeing an ill-defined threat. This is another of the stories done in a child’s voice and perspective, and it captures that voice well.

17.) Chasing Sunset by A.C. Wise: A young man flees across country in an attempt to escape a demonic father who is after his body. This story offers the most impressive use of language. It’s one of the most enjoyable pieces to read, and, while it didn’t quite make my top five, it definitely gets honorable mention.

18.) The Monster Makers by Steve Rasnic Tem: A grandfather teaches his grandkids the family magic of being able to make others turn into monsters. In a way this seems like a thinly-veiled allegory for how grandparents turn children into “monsters,” but it’s entertaining nonetheless.

19.) Piano Man by Christopher Fowler: A travel writer doing a story on New Orleans gets caught up in a local voodoo turf war. This is another Southern Gothic piece with post-Katrina New Orleans as the setting—with all its tragic, macabre undertones.

20.) Corpsemouth by John Langan: An American visits his ancestral home and old world family in Scotland and discovers that the “gibberish” last message of his dying father actually had a rather spectacular meaning. This story rounds out my top five. I found it to be engaging, highly readable, and with an intriguing premise.

This anthology is thrilling and readable, and I’d recommend it to anyone who wants to read about unusual monsters.

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STORY: The Most Inaccessible Place of All

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I ran across this little story quoted in an academic paper while I was doing research for a writing project. It was written by Dorothy Gilman in a book called A Nun in the Closet. At any rate, I found it clever and thought you might as well. [I’m assuming that Gilman made this story up, rather than borrowing an old folktale–but that–as with all assumptions–could be wrong. Please feel free to correct me if you know otherwise. If she did come up with it from scratch, she perfectly captured the folktale.]

 

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“Once upon a time, [Bhanjan Singh, a guru-like character in the book] said, when God had finished making the world, he wanted to leave behind Him for man a piece of His own divinity, a spark of His essence, a promise to man of what he could become, with effort. He looked for a place to hide this Godhead because, he explained, what man could find too easily would never be valued by him.



“Then you must hide the Godhead on the highest mountain peak on earth,” said one of His councilors.



God shook His head. “No, for man is an adventuresome creature and he will soon enough learn to climb the highest mountain peaks.”



“Hide it then, O Great One, in the depths of the earth!”



“I think not,” said God, “for man will one day discover that he can dig into the deepest parts of the earth.”



“In the middle of the ocean then, Master?”



God shook His head. “I’ve given man a brain, you see, and one day he’ll learn to build ships and cross the mightiest oceans.”



“Where then, Master?” cried His councilors.



God smiled. “I’ll hide it in the most inaccessible place of all, and the one place that man will never think to look for it. I’ll hide it deep inside of man himself.”

The Legend of Nai Khanomtom: Hero of Muay Thai

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Muay Thai Institute in Rangsit, Thailand

In 1767 the Ayutthaya Kingdom of Siam fell to the Burmese. Burma occupied Siam only briefly because Burma’s king, King Hsinbyushin (a.k.a. King Mangra), was forced to withdraw his troops to combat a Chinese invasion to his homeland. The Thais were fabled to be valiant fighters and even had a numeric advantage, but they were easily put into disarray by Burmese forces. Even King Mangra was said to have declared that he couldn’t have taken Ayutthaya had the leadership of the opposition been more effective. [Keep in mind that even if he did say this, it might have been more a dig at his Thai counterpart than an expression of his true feelings.]

The Burmese captured a many prisoners during their Thai campaign and true warriors were particularly coveted as prisoners. One such fighter was Nai Khanomtom (fyi: it’s also written Nai Khanom Tom.) Nai Khonomtom was renowned for his skill in Muay Boran, an early Thai fighting style related to Muay Thai. This made him a logical choice to headline for the Thais in a tournament that would pit Muay Boran against Thiang–i.e. the indigenous martial arts of Burma (e.g. Lethwei and Bando.) The tournament would be part of King Mangra’s seven day festival in honor of Buddhist relics, the festivities of which would also include plays, comedians, and sword fights.

Nai Khanomtom was pitted against a Burmese champion, a man who was clearly the audience favorite. Timed rounds didn’t exist in those days. Fights stopped when one of the fighters was physically unable to continue, and not before. The Burmese fighter wore a kind of sarong that was the usual attire for the men of Burma, and Nai Khanomtom wore a loin cloth tied up in the traditional Thai style (see the statue pic above.) Each fighter wrapped only ropes on their forearms and hands, and each may have had some padding over the groin–though not as insurance against an accident, but because crotch kicks were fair game.

Nai Khanomtom began with a Wai Kru, which perplexed the Burmese. Wai Kru is a pre-fight ritual that has several purposes, the most important of which is to show respect for one’s teachers, deities, and the audience. The practice can take several minutes and some variants of it can be physically demanding.

When the fight started, Nai Khanomtom charged over the fight space taking the fight to his opponent and laying down a barrage of kicks, knees, elbows, and punches. By some accounts, his victory was declared invalid by a judge, who’d been distracted by other festival events (and who–no doubt–wasn’t pleased by the swift defeat of the Burmese champion.) The decision was made despite the fact that the Burmese fighter had been knocked unconscious.

The King was thrilled by the fight and offered Nai Khanomtom his freedom if he could fight nine more Burmese fighters. Nai Khanomtom didn’t get breaks between these fights, and as soon as an opponent went down the next was queued up to come after the Thai fighter. And so it was that Nai Khanomtom took on the Burmese fighters in an ironman fashion. The last of his opponents was a famous martial arts master teacher from Rakhine, a coastal region in Burma’s southwest. Nai Khanomtom went after the Rakhine master with flurry of kicks. It’s worth noting that in those days Burmese fighters were said to have relied much more heavily on hand strikes than kicks, and so the kicks may have given Nai Khanomtom a range advantage while presenting his opponent with attacks that the Burmese fighter was less practiced at defeating.

At the fight’s end, King Mangra honored his agreement, and Nai Khanomtom was granted his freedom and provided safe-conduct back to Siam. There are varying accounts that say that Nai Khonomtom returned home with either two Burmese wives or a number of his fellow prisoners as an additional payment for providing a spectacle that the Burmese king found gripping. In these accounts, Nai Khanomtom is usually said to have turned down a cash payment.

There’s a quote that’s often attributed to King Mangra that goes, “Every part of the Thai is blessed with venom, even with his bare hands he can fell ten opponents.” [FYI-It should be noted that seeing the same words quoted by several sources isn’t proof of truth, because the quotes could have a common (and false) point of origin.  So take it all with a grain of salt.]

[Note: The details of this story vary. So you may hear–or have heard–a slightly different version of events. The exact details are likely lost to history and–when that happens–embellishment may creep in. That said, the variations that I’ve heard are neither great nor particularly significant. It’s also worth noting that these events are celebrated in Thailand every March 17th on what is called Boxer’s Day or National Muay Boran Day.]

A Third Roti: A Story with an Elephantine Moral

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IMG_0047I went to a talk at the Rangoli Metro Arts Center last night entitled, Foresters’ Elephants. The talk was hosted by a group called “Friends of Elephants,” and the panel of speakers were all Conservation Officers in South India who were responsible for public lands home to Elephants.

The discussion offered some intriguing insight into state and local politics in India. But the best explanation of the night came from the Chief Conservator of Forests for Kodagu in a story that could be titled “A Third Roti.”

The Conservator explained that, as a junior forest officer, he’d been assigned to a remote station. His housing took the form of an old decrepit colonial era building. This house had a vermin infestation, and the hungry rodents would get bold as he and his wife slept and would nibble at their fingers and toes. Of course, this made for sleepless nights. To solve this disconcerting problem, the Conservator took to getting a third roti with his meals. [For my India-inexperienced readers, a roti is a circular flat bread that’s a common element of meals in many parts of India.] Putting the third roti out for the rodents negated the rat’s need to engage in the mutually terrifying act of nibbling on the forest officer or his wife.

I don’t know if the story is true, and–if it is–whether it’s truly the Conservator’s story. It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that it’s a great use of story to make a point. The point in this case is that a solution often needs to take into account the fundamental needs of the “adversary.” In other words, regulation and punishment can’t always provide the solution–especially when basic needs are not being met. One could try to scare the rodents away or one could set traps (potentially at risk to oneself), but if the rats are driven  by hunger they might find the risk worth taking. The problem that he was addressing was the need for wood for fires, fence posts, and other needs. This caused people to enter public forests, putting themselves at risk of running into wild elephants.

The idea of trying to find a third roti for problems really resonated as an approach to creative solutions.

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow: A Japanese Folktale

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800px-Tree_Sparrow_Japan_Flip[This is a well-known Japanese folk tale. There are many versions and translations of it, but the gist of the story remains the same from one to the next.]

Once upon a time, an old man was married to a shrew. The couple lived in the countryside on the edge of a mountain forest. They had no children, but the man befriended one of the sparrows that resided in the adjacent forest. The old man fed the sparrow, offering whatever he had to the small bird.

Over time, the man and the sparrow grew almost inseparable. However, one day the man had to go into town to buy provisions. It may have been that the man chose that particular day for his errand because his horrid wife was most ill-tempered on laundry days, and that was a laundry day.

While the husband was away, the sparrow came around. Seeing a pile of starch, the sparrow pecked at it. Infuriated, the old woman snatched up the bird in one hand and a scissors in the other, and she snipped part of the bird’s tongue out. Then as she tossed the sparrow free, she said, “Away with you. That’ll teach you to get into my starch.”

The bird flew deep into the mountains.

When the husband returned, he inquired as to whether his wife had seen the bird. The sparrow was usually around the homestead at that time of day.

The hag proudly told the husband of her actions and how she’d punished the insolent bird.

The old man lost no time in trudging out into the forest to try to make sure his friend was alright. He called out to the sparrow, but there was no response. He feared his wife had wounded the bird even more than she’d boasted. Eventually, exhaustion forced the old man to give up his search. He prayed that the little bird would be alright, but he couldn’t keep looking for it.

 

A couple of years later, the  man was foraging for mushrooms in the forest when he ran into the sparrow. The sparrow invited the man back to his home.

The sparrow offered the man food, refreshments, and even accommodations as they took several days to catch up on the events of each other’s lives. The sparrow now had a family and was doing well.

After a few days of catching up, the old man decided that he must get back, but he promised to come back around to visit occasionally. (The sparrow was reasonably reluctant to visit the man at his home with the vile woman around.) The sparrow family offered the old man a choice of parting gift, they presented two woven baskets. The baskets appeared identical, but one was light and the other was heavy. The old man didn’t feel deserving of a gift, but he took the lighter basket. He had to take one to avoid offending his host, but he didn’t wish to be greedy.

When the man got home, he was berated by the shrew for being away so long. She then interrogated him about the new basket. The man told his wife the entire story, including about how the sparrows offered him two baskets, and how he’d taken the lighter one.

His wife snatched the lid off of the basket and investigated its contents. She found that the reason the basket was so light was that it contained just a few precious jewels and several gold coins. By weight it wasn’t much, but its value was considerable.

The wife thought, Hm. I’ll go visit the sparrows. I’ll make a little apology for snipping at the bird’s tongue, and when they offer me my parting gift, I’ll be smart enough to take the heavy basket. Just imagine the riches it must contain.

The wife tricked her husband into giving her directions, saying she wanted to make a heartfelt apology. She then went to visit the sparrow family. She made a half-hearted apology for injuring the sparrow, claiming she’d only meant to scare him but the scissors had gotten away from her. The meeting was awkward and the sparrows were relieved to have the woman going on her way.

They offered the woman a choice of parting gifts as well. The woman lifted both baskets. Just as her husband had said, one basket was light and the other was heavy. She lugged the heavy basket up on her back, and without even saying her good-byes she sped toward her home as quickly as her legs would carry her. She had fantasies  about what she would do with her new-found wealth.

It wasn’t long before she needed a break because the basket was heavy and her legs weren’t used to such a burden. Standing on the forest trail, the couldn’t resist peaking at her riches.  The woman tugged the lid off and dove her head into the mouth of the basket to see what precious jewels, gold, and silver would greet her. However, what lurched out was an evil ogre, enveloped in a mist of demon spirits.

Clutching her chest, the old woman had a heart attack in the face of the horrific contents of her basket, dying where she had stood.

Tsukahara Bokuden Defeats a Braggart

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[Note: There are many versions of this story, and these events have even been attributed to other warriors. The tale was likely passed around orally before it was written down myriad times in myriad different ways (most famously in the Kōyō Gunkan.) The details of the story aren’t important; it’s the overall moral of the story and that remains the same from one version to the next.]

Bokuden Boat

Tsukahara Bokuden listened to the braggart nauseating the ferry passengers with graphic details of his “exploits.” Bokuden would have happily ignored the young samurai, but the cocky youth seemed eager to take offense at the lack of interest in his tales of hacking people to bits and was looking for a fight. The other passengers on the boat were all commoners: an elderly man who was probably a craftsman or a small business merchant, and a mother with her young child.

“Do you doubt me? Do you have the audacity to call me a liar,” The young man said, having not received a suitably enthusiastic response to his stories. And he stood, one hand on his scabbard and the other brushing his sword’s hilt.

Tsukahara Bokuden said, “Easy, young man. No one is calling you a liar. These good people are just not used to such bloody stories.”

The young samurai turned to eye Bokuden, who had appeared to be napping in the back earlier. The braggart asked, “And who are you to challenge me?”

“I didn’t challenge you. I merely explained these people’s lack of enthusiasm for your yarns. But if you must know, I am Tsukahara Bokuden,” he replied, hoping his name might give the bragging samurai pause. Bokuden was well-known, having traversed Japan in musha shugyō (sometimes related to the European “knights errantry,”musha shugyō was a time in a samurai’s life–particularly in times of relative peace–when he traveled the land engaging in matches with individuals from other schools to increase his skill and notoriety–i.e. if he didn’t get killed, which was not uncommon, even when the fight was with wooden swords.)

“I’ve never heard of you. What’s your style?” the cocky samurai asked.

“Mine is the School of No-Sword,” replied Bokuden.

“I’ve never heard of that school, but it sounds weak,” the braggart said.

“I assure you, the technique is quite powerful,” Bokuden said.

“Are you suggesting that you could defeat me with this so-called ‘no sword’ technique?” the braggart said, his hand tightening on his scabbard.

“I said nothing of the sort. I would just like to enjoy the remainder of the ferry ride in peace,” said Bokuden.

“Are you scared to have a match to see who’s style is better?” the cocky youth asked.

“Not in the least, but I see no benefit in it either,” Bokuden replied.

“I’ve had enough of your lip, old man, prepare to defend yourself,” said the young samurai.

Bokuden sighed, “If you insist upon a match, let us at least do so where these good people’s lives will not be in peril. Surely you’ll agree that it would do no great honor to the samurai class if we were to injure or kill innocent bystanders.”

At this the braggart just harrumphed, “Who cares, but I’ll take you on wherever you wish.”

Tsukahara Bokuden said to the oarsman, “Sorry to trouble you, but would you mind diverting to drop us on that outcrop so that we can spare these people the swinging blades.”

The oarsman was readily agreeable. He didn’t want two samurai fighting on his ferryboat any more than Bokuden did.

He rowed them to a stony outcrop that jutted up out of the water. The uneven rocky ground wasn’t ideal for a match, but it would spare the other passengers and would provide a challenge.

When the boat’s bow ground up against the rock, the young samurai jumped out, twisting around in air, and landed on the rock. The braggart held his scabbard and hilt at the ready for a swift draw. The young man was eager to do battle, and it was clear that he was annoyed with Tsukahara Bokuden’s slow movement. The older swordsman took out both of his swords and asked one of the passengers to hold the swords. The oarsman and the passengers were surprised by this disarming behavior, but they’d heard him call his school the “school of no-sword.”

Tsukahara Bokuden then moved up to the boat’s bow as if preparing to move ashore.

“Might I borrow your oar, young man?” Bokuden said to the oarsman. The oarsman nodded and handed Bokuden the long oar with two hands, and with his head bowed. The general assumption was that the older samurai wanted to stabilize the boat against the rock so he could pass ashore smoothly.

Taking the oar, Bokuden drove one end into the outcrop, and grabbed the other pushing the boat away from the rock. The boat glided out from the rock in an accelerating fashion.

Lunging toward the water’s edge, the perplexed braggart called out, “What on earth are you doing, old man?”

To which Bokuden replied, “I’m defeating you with the school of no sword.”

By the time the young samurai could remove his swords and tug away his outer garment, Bokuden had rowed out to deep waters and returned the oar to the oarsman.