bibliogramma: (Default)
European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman is Theodora Goss’ second novel featuring the members of the Athena Club - Mary Jekyll, Diana Hyde, Beatrice Rappaccini, Catherine Moreau, and Justine Frankenstein, all the female creations of men of science, members of the secretive organisation the Société des Alchimistes. The monstrous gentlewomen have a new mission - a journey to the Continent, to rescue if they can another woman they feel is by nature a member of their unusual club, Lucinda Van Helsing - whose existence they have become aware if through Mary’s former governess, Mina Murray Harker (who readers of Victorian science fantasy will recognise as the bride of Jonathan Harker). But something is brewing among the English members of the Society, so the gentlewomen decide to divide their numbers - while Catherine hunts down the clues to what is happening in England, and Beatrice takes care of Diana, who Mary feels is still too young and impetuous to be left to her own devices, Mary and Justine (passing as a man) will go to Vienna. Thanks to Mary’s employer, the world’s only consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, Mary and Justine will have help once they reach Vienna, as Holmes has armed them with a letter of introduction to a well-positioned woman of society, the widow Irene Norton, née Adler. As one might expect, this division of labour is rejected by Diana, who follows Mary and Justine, disguised as a young boy, and ultimately proves to be as essential to the mission as the others.

Of course, with the names Harker and Van Helsing so prominent in the narrative, it’s no surprise that this Athena Club adventure deals with vampirism, drawing not only on the original Bram Stoker Dracula, but also on the less familiar novella by Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla, as basis and inspiration for some of its key events.

The literary nerd in me loves what Goss is doing in these novels, playing with the tropes of the foundational literature of both the sf and mystery genres, integrating real cultural history (such as the pivotal role played by Sigmund Freud in the rescue of Lucinda Van Helsing, and ongoing references to the suffragette movement) into the fictional accounts of these “monstrous” women. Goss’ treatment of Irene Adler is a thing of beauty, and her mentorship of Mary, Justine and Diana - giving them an example of an intelligent, accomplished woman fully the equal of any man and prepared to work outside of convention and the law to achieve her goals - is a delight to read.

The novel is written in the same style as the first, largely a standard narrative, but interrupted at regular intervals by conversations after the fact among the members of the Athena Club, in a kind of meta-narrative that is occurring after the fact, back at home, as Catherine reads her account of their adventures to the others and they discuss what really happened, and how Catherine has portrayed them. This technique adds to our understanding of the characters and their relationships, and provides just enough release of tension to reassure us that our heroines will survive, without giving away too much of the story in advance.

The story ends on a cliff-hanger - while the main plot, the rescue of Lucinda and the confrontation with the Société des Alchimistes - is brought to a conclusion in one case, and a suitable resting point in the other, other concerns which had seemed peripheral to the narrative suddenly take prominence, and suggest the shape of the next novel, which I most eagerly look forward to.
bibliogramma: (Default)


Some characters take on a life of their own, and demand that other authors tell stories about them, or about the other characters that inhabit their universes, long after their original creators have stopped writing about them. Sherlock Holmes and his faithful companion Watson are among those characters, as are a number of other literary creations from the same time period.

Sometimes writers are tempted to bring together such characters from different literary universes. Imagine Mina Harker, Captain Nemo, Allan Quartermain, Dr. Jekyll and Hawley Griffin as a Victorian League of superheroes - as Alan Moore did.

In her debut novel The Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter! Theodora Goss has taken this one step further, in bringing together two groups of characters derived from 19th century literature - the mad scientists whose researches pushed multiple boundaries of human knowledge and experience, and the female monsters they created.

The story begins with Mary Jekyll, the daughter of long-deceased Doctor Jekyll. Left without any income after the death of her mother, Mary is looking for any legitimate way to make enough money to support herself and her loyal housekeeper and cook. After receiving a strange notification concerting her mother’s continuing support of “Hyde” she assumes this is a clue to the whereabouts of the long missing Mr. Hyde, believed to have been involved in an unsolved murder. Remembering that the famous detective Sherlock Holmes was also involved with the case, she goes to him to see if there is still a reward for the capture of Hyde. With Watson assisting her, she discovers not the man Hyde, but his daughter Diana, who claims to be her sister. No longer welcome at the Magdalen Society where she has been cared for, Diana becomes, in essence, Mary’s ward, as the two seek to unravel the mystery of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Their investigation dovetails with Holmes’ newest case, a consultation with the police over several deaths of prostitutes in the Whitechapel area, women whose bodies were found with body parts missing. (These seem to be purely fictional, although inspired by other cases of Victorian serial murders - the names of the victims do not correspond with the 11 names in the historical Whitechapel file, several of which are attributed to Jack the Ripper.) A seal used on some surviving correspondence received by Dr. Jekyll is identical with the design found on a watch fob clutched in the hand of one of the murder victims. With this, the game is afoot, and will eventually involve some of the most famous ‘mad scientists’ and other creatures of Victorian fiction - Moreau, Rappaccini, Renfield, Van Helsing - and the legacy of the first of the mad scientists, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

Goss has chosen to tell the story in an interesting manner. Ostensibly being written by a woman identified as Catherine, the text incorporates comments by Mary, Diana, Mary’s housekeeper Mrs. Poole, the scullery maid Alice, and two other women not initially identified, Beatrice and Justine. From the nature of their comments, the reader is made aware that these women are friends and colleagues who have travelled and worked together on at least one venture, and that the narrative - mostly written by Catherine - is also a means of introducing each woman and allowing her to tell her story, and recast the reader’s knowledge of her through the lens of her father’s work.

Being a Holmes enthusiast, and fairly familiar with the Victorian literature of the fantastic that is referenced in this narrative, made the reading of it a particularly enjoyable experience. I found myself double checking the names of just about every character mentioned, whether they seemed to be involved in the mystery of the murdered women or not. (I was rather vexed not to find any obvious link between Mrs. Poole and Bertha Mason Rochester’s nurse Grace Poole.)

The frequent asides of the main characters make it clear that Goss plans more adventures for the women of her book, and I am most eager to find out what comes next.

bibliogramma: (Default)


Catherynne Valente, "Down and Out in R'lyeh"; Uncanny Magazine, September/October 2017
https://uncannymagazine.com/article/down-and-out-in-rlyeh/

This is not your average Cthulhu mythos story. In a style reminiscent of its other literary inspirations - Orwell's Down and out in Paris and London, Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - it's a travelogue, a drug-fueled expletive-filled exploration of the fetid underbelly of a city where that most fetid of all things, dead, lies dreaming. The narrator is an inconsequential 'eerie' named Moloch - not "the" Moloch, of course, just one of the thousand children of Shub-Niggurath, out for a night of tripping on the fumes of Cthulhu's farts. It's one wild ride, and it's worth it.


Allison Mills, "If a Bird Can Be a Ghost"; Apex Magazine, August 1, 2017
https://www.apex-magazine.com/if-a-bird-can-be-a-ghost/

Shelly's Grandmother is a Ghostbuster. Shelly has the gift as well, to see and communicate with ghosts, to send them on. Her grandmother has a lot to teach her, about when to send a ghost on, and when to let them be. About treating them like the people they were. But when Shelly's mother dies, she has to learn the hardest lessons on her own. Very strong story, it starts out sweet and turns powerful and full of meaning. By the end I was near tears.


Cassandra Khaw, "Don't Turn On the Lights"; Nightmare Magazine, October 2017
http://www.nightmare-magazine.com/fiction/dont-turn-lights/

Oh, this is a dark little piece of horror indeed. Or, considering that it consists of multiple variations on a simple horror trope, a series of dark little pieces, each one successively darker and taking its motivations from deeper in the human psyche. Khaw turns the screws sublimely.


Mary Robinette Kowal, "The Worshipful Society of Glovers"; Uncanny Magazine, July/August 2017
https://uncannymagazine.com/article/worshipful-society-glovers/

Kowal's novelette, a historical fantasy set in Tudor times, features a journeyman glovemaker in a world where the crafting guilds have arrangements with the queen of fairies to produce enchanted goods - all properly licensed, of course, and the penalties for making unlicensed ensorcelled goods can be grave indeed. But laws intended to protect can also trap a good but desperate person in a maze of deceit and worse, with no way out. A story that is, ultimately, about the cruelty of class, the desperation of poverty, and the callousness of a system that makes no allowances for circumstance or simple human necessity.


Khaalidah Muhammad-Ali, "Concessions"; Strange Horizons, published in two parts, March 6 and 13, 2017
http://strangehorizons.com/fiction/concessions-part-1-of-2/

In a world where religious strife has led to wars and a suppression of faiths of all kinds, where religious exiles live in small communities in barren lands becoming increasingly less habitable, a muslimah doctor and scientist struggles to balance both her callings, and find a way to atone for her part in the devastation. A thoughtful, moving story about healing, responsibility, science and faith.


Vina Jie-Min Prasad, "A Series of Steaks"; Clarkesworld, January 2017
http://clarkesworldmagazine.com/prasad_01_17/

A delightful sf caper about a prime beef forger and her assistant threatened by a nasty client with blackmail on his mind. The details of the forged food business - and its cousin, the printed replacement organ business - are actually fascinating, and the way the women turn the tables and ride off into the sunset is delightful.


Kathleen Kayembe, "The Faerie Tree"; Lightspeed Magazine, November 2017
http://www.lightspeedmagazine.com/fiction/the-faerie-tree/

Striking a bargain with the faeries is never something done lightly, but when the need is great enough, some are willing to pay the price. But the sacrifice can be even worse than you thought it would be. A well-told tale with a bitter lesson.


Rachel Swirsky, "The Day The Wizards Came"; Lightspeed Magazine, November 2017
http://www.lightspeedmagazine.com/fiction/day-wizards-came/

A short but many-layered story. What if wizards - mere schoolchildren, on brooms, not unlike the wizards everyone has been reading about - suddenly appeared and stopped a terrible thing from happening. And what if the mundanes, who the young wizards didn't have much respect for anyway, instead if being suitable grateful, wondered why now, why, if they had such power, they hadn't stopped other terrible things before then. And what if... But as I said, there are many levels to this unsettling tale, having to do with responsibility, and power, and expectations, and wanting things to be better without having to do it yourself, and other tricky questions.


Theodora Goss, "Come See the Living Dryad"; tor.com, March 9, 2017

Goss' novelette deals with an issue that I feel rather strongly about - the treatment of people who have visible differences and disabilities, by society, by those close to them, by institutions and media. Set in 19th century England (and thus evoking echoes of the life of a similar medical curiosity, Joseph Merrick, the famous Elephant Man), this is the story of the life and murder of Daphne Merwin, the Living Dryad. There is a real, and very rare, genetic condition known as Lewandowsky-Lutz dysplasia, in which damaged skin develops into hardened tissue and forms papules that resemble treebark, and branches. It is this condition that the fictional Daphne suffers from, and the reason that her husband - the man who found her alone and starving in the streets of London - exhibits her under the name of the Living Dryad.

The story is told through Daphne's journals, the internal narrative of her great-great-granddaughter, also named Daphne, who has inherited her condition, and various documents - handbills, news reports, excerpts from the younger Daphne's book on Victorian Freak Shows. The younger Daphne, reading the journal for her research, becomes suspicious about the official version of the murder, and seeks to resolve the questions she has. Daphne's journals provide clues. But what lies beneath the murder mystery - which is interesting in itself - is the tragedy of two woman turned into objects for display, for the financial benefit of the man who wooed and used them both, and the voyeuristic pleasure of others.


Carlie St. George, “If We Survive the Night”; The Dark Magazine, March 2017
http://thedarkmagazine.com/if-we-survive-the-night/

There’s a house in the woods where the girls who die in horror films go. Every day there’s an angel who calls on them to repent their sins, and every night they are murdered again. Because everyone knows it’s the bad girls who die. But who decides what’s good and what’s bad? And who determined that the appropriate punishment for any sin that a teenaged girl could commit is to be horrifically murdered?

In an interesting literary coincidence, shortly after reading this story, I encountered the following passage in Sara Ahmed’s Living a Feminist Life: “You can be made responsible whether or not you have modified your behavior in accordance, because gender fatalism has already explained the violence directed against you as forgivable and inevitable.”


Kirsten Valdez Quade, “Christina the Astonishing (1150 - 1224); The New Yorker, July 31, 2017
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/07/31/christina-the-astonishing-1150-1224

More mainstream/literary fiction. A thought-provoking story recounting the life of a late Medieval female saint from the perspective of her sister. Reading with a modern eye, one is unable to discern sanctity from madness. Did Christina really return from death, or from a paralytic fit that seemed like death to the uneducated villagers and barely educated priest? Her sisters suffer greatly from her ranting, accusations and erratic, sometimes violent behaviour - is it the wrath of God or schizophrenia? What tears at the heart is the anguish of a sister torn between love, resentment, anger and reverence.

bibliogramma: (Default)

And now, for a quick look at my recent anthology reading.

Sword and Sorceress III, Marion Zimmer Bradley (ed.)

I’d originally bought this because I wanted to collect all of Charles Saunders’ short stories about Dossouye, the Abomeyan woman warrior, most of which were first published in the early Sword and Sorceress anthologies edited by the late Marion Zimmer Bradley. But that’s hardly the only reason to read (or re-read) the anthology. It’s great fun to go back and revist the early stories of other favourite fantasy writers, like Jennifer Roberson, Diana Paxson, Elizabeth Moon and Mercedes Lackey.

The Sword and Sorceress anthologies played a significant role in the development of a new kind of woman-centred fantasy , and a new generation of writers, mostly women, who knew how to write it. Sometimes it’s a very good thing to travel back and look at where some of the great female characters of heroic fantasy, and the people who created them, had their beginnings.


Sword and Sorceress XXIII, Elisabeth Waters (ed.)

From the retrospective to the modern day – this is the second volume of the Sword and Sorceress anthologies to be edited by Elisabeth Waters and released by Norilana Books (by publisher Vera Nazarian). Featuring stories by well-established writers who have been part of the Sword and Sorceress phenomenon from the beginning, like Patricia B. Cirone, Mercedes Lackey and Deborah J. Ross, as well as relative newcomers such as Pauline Alama, Leah Cypress, and others.


Tesseracts Q, Jane Brierley & Elisabeth Vonarburg (eds.)

One of the biggest disadvantages to being monolingual– and worse, being a monolingual speaker of English – is that it’s hard to really read globally. Many works in English are translated into many other languages (can you spell cultural imperialism? I thought you could.), but only a small percentage of the interesting writing, in any genre, in languages other than English gets translated into English.

And so, much thanks to Jane Brierley and Elisabeth Vonarburg, who have selected some of the interesting work that Quebecois(e) writers have been producing, and publishing it in translation for the benighted monolingual English to read. There are some very interesting stories in this anthology, and in addition, it offers the chance for the reader to immerse herself in a different tradition – science fiction with a different set of working assumptions about treatment and style. Many of the stories here are more “literary” than much English-language science fiction, and ask different questions. And that makes the experience of reading works in translation doubly engaging.


Interfictions: An Anthology of Interstitial Writing, Delia Sherman & Theodora Goss (eds.)

What, you may be asking yourself, is interstitial writing? For the long answer, you can read this Wikipedia article or this essay by Delia Sherman, one of the founders of The Interstitial Arts Foundation and co-editor of this anthology.

For a short answer, it is writing that exists in between. In between what, you may ask. In between something that you think you have all neatly boxed up and categorised, and something else (or several somethings else) that you think is different from the first something. It’s work that colours outside the lines. And it’s interesting to explore – which is exactly what this anthology is all about. Many of the writers whose work appears in this anthology are known primarily as science fiction or fantasy writers, including Catherynne Valente, K. Tempest Bradford, Christopher Barzak, Holly Phillips, Vandana Singh, Rachel Pollock and Leslie What – and in fact, many of the stories are ones that would not seem particularly out of place in an anthology of fantasy, or science fiction, or horror, or the other genres that fall under the umbrella of speculative fiction. And yet – there is something extra about each of these that harkens to something else even as it seems to be, when looked at in a certain light, something you think you can clearly identify.

So what, you may ask. Read the anthology and find out, I may answer.

Profile

bibliogramma: (Default)
bibliogramma

May 2019

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930 31 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 27th, 2025 11:04 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios