Thursday, September 27, 2007

Michele Slung: I Shudder At Your Touch: 22 Tales of Sex and Horror


(ROC, 1991)
On Amazon
I Shudder At Your Touch has taken me a long time to finish. I don't read much horror in one sitting (especially before bed), and I kept hitting dull or dated pieces of writing and losing interest. A number of the stories are well written and a few are fascinating, but overall the quality of writing isn't as high as I'd hoped. The selection doesn't really hold my interest either: I've enjoyed some of these authors more in other collections.

I'm not a frequent horror reader. I've read the older classics in the genre, a handful of the big names from the last few decades, and I enjoy some of the recent crossover horror/fantasy/romance fiction. Most of all, I enjoy a good short story in any genre.

I'll discuss the stories here. In Part 2 I'll talk about the very interesting preface by Michele Slung.

The stories

I Shudder was first published in 1991; most of the stories date from before that. The earliest stories (1890s-1960s) are all strong: they're distinctive enough to stand out among decades of similar themes, and they're not overwhelmed by old-fashioned ornamentation. Several of those written in the 1970s-80s sin the other direction--they're distinctive only in plot, with no writing style; good stories told with minimal nuance. Too many of the later stories rely on the reader's visceral, squeamish reactions for effect, neglecting the good writing that turns a lurid read into a compulsive read.

It's not that these stories are nonstop gore. The collection is fairly well balanced between different types of horror: growing hatred, sudden violence, and outré paranormal creatures. Nor am I arguing for an elaborate Gothic style. If anything, the opposite: several of the stories are flabby, wordy writing.

My synopses are sketchy because I hate to "spoil" short stories, and because there are 22 of them. If you want more detail, try here.

Women run amok

Several of the stories are in the vein of The Turn of the Screw: they center on a woman going mad (perhaps driven mad by frightening forces), and ultimately harming herself or others.

The Revelations of 'Becka Paulson by Stephen King, 1986
Becka accidentally shoots herself in the head. The bullet lodged in her brain is only the start, as her reality and her attitude toward her husband take some strange and threatening turns. King's language is flat, and his voice is blah. Interesting ideas, boring delivery.
Cleave the Vampire, or, A Gothic Pastorale by Patrick McGrath, 1991 (titled "Not Cricket" in the UK edition)
A well-written send-up of a British matron (complete with fox-hunting-obsessed husband and cricket-obsessed son), in the sex-mad style of a country-house farce. Lady Hock has stopped taking her medications, an grows increasingly obsessed with a vampire at the neighborhood cricket match. Cleave is light on the horror; Lady Hock's mental state is developed more than the vampire. Slung hits on the one aspect that up-ends the usual vampire story:
It's a provocative thought that the only thing worse than a vampire's advances could be a vampire's indifference.

The Conqueror Worm by Stephen R. Donaldson, 1983
The one madness story in the collection that centers on a man. The story would be unremarkable except for the ghastly "worm". Which is sort of the story of Donaldson's success, I think: seemingly ordinary stories with a queasy element that renders them uncomfortably memorable. It's very effective, but I always end up feeling manipulated by it.

Keeping House by Michael Blumlein, 1991
Another "horrid" story of a woman going mad. In this case the evil seems to emanate from a house, and manifests itself through creepy crawlies and rank odors. The horrors and her madness progress in smart tandem, keeping the reader unsure of the narrator's reliability until near the end.

Unsafe at home

Keeping House is the best of several stories about the terror and mental fatigue of feeling spied-on in one’s own home.

The Master Builder by Christopher Fowler, 1991
More stalker-thriller than horror; great ideas but flabby, wordy writing.

Wings by Harriet Zinnes, 1988
This could have been an intriguing little psychological piece. It breaks all kinds of taboos and plays with the character's mind and sexuality to a cruel degree--but it goes nowhere and explores nothing.

Nature, red in tooth and claw

A few of the stories depict half-humans who seem to belong to a nature that's fierce and uncompromising. There’s no true understanding between the ordinary person and the half-human Other.

Sea Lovers by Valerie Martin, 1988
Sea Predator might have been a better title. Mermaids can have cold, fishy hearts; this particular mermaid is anti-men, having seen one drowned and found his genitals frightening... quel shock! It's a strong story with a weak ending. Some editor should have accidentally-on-purpose omitted the last two paragraphs.

The Tiger Returns to the Mountain by T.L. Parkinson, 1991
Slung compares this story to Beauty and the Beast, but the fairytale is altered in almost every respect. Most versions of the story alter the atmosphere but not the structure of the fairytale; Jean Cocteau's prince is beastly in instincts but still leads a life of privilege--and he's still constrained by the need to win the beauty's love. The Tiger Returns twists male/female power disturbingly. The Tiger Man is far from privileged; he's a prison escapee. He doesn't woo; he kidnaps and forces. On the face of it the Tiger Man possesses all the power in the relationship, and Molly can only take back her power negatively, by acquiescing to her own rape.

Master by Angela Carter, 1981
White man, native woman, jungle, jaguar, killing that which we love or that which we become. Oh-so-full of symbolism, but none of it spoke to me.

The everyday: Fantasy and cruelty

Most of the stories involve relationships going awry. A couple of the stories are about the entirely human dimension of horror, the kind of thing that leads to divorce court or, at their most fantastic, headlines for supermarket tabloids.

A Quarter Past You by Jonathan Carroll, 1989
A wife is a little too honest about her sexual fantasies; the husband thoroughly squelches her fantasy. Not remotely horrific, but a decent short story.

A Glowing Future by Ruth Rendell, 1987
A rather predictable story of a woman done wrong, and her revenge on both the man who done it and the woman he done it for.
  • The full text is online (PDF).

Other stories originate in human discontents but conjure something otherworldly.

Consanguinity by Ronald Duncan, 1965
I found this the most intriguing story in the book. After reading the ending, I immediately started again from the beginning. It's a primarily psychological tale of an unusually close brother and sister; more about the weird and the transgressive than the truly horrible.

Festival by Eric McCormack, 1987
A genuine piece of grotesquerie with a twist in the end. A couple attend a festival of increasing horrors; they've agreed to participate in the final act. The interest is in the couple's agreement, their brinksmanship, and their careful compact that accommodates both of their yearnings toward death. McCormack has found the flaw in the Prisoner's Dilemma: the two principals may trust each other implicitly, but can they trust the rest of the world to play along?

Psychopomp by Haydn Middleton, 1991
An exploration of the yearning to return to one's beginnings, and the death that accompanies this turning away from life.
Editor's note: A psychopomp... was, in ancient Greek myth, a conductor of souls to the place of the dead.

Salon Satin by Carolyn Banks, 1991
A trite tale of two women and a supernatural spa (described in ridiculous psychedelia). The "punchline" is all in the last page, and hinges on a lame pun.

Nameless horrors

A few of the stories are Gothic in structure, relying on nameless horrors for their emotive value. These two vintage Gothic pieces worked for me (Sinclair and Hitchens); the newer stories weren't very good.

The Villa Désirée by May Sinclair, 1926
A classic Gothic tale of a young woman engaged to a mysterious stranger. Mildred is alone in his remote home, sleeping in a bedroom with a bloody past.

How Love Came to Professor Guildea by Robert Hitchens, 1900
Another classic story of an isolated man haunted by the nameless. The Professor would rather die than live with the creature's affection.

The Swords by Robert Aickman, 1975
A young commercial traveler becomes fascinated by a perverse carnival act. It's an interestingly macabre idea, but I didn't find the writing very effective.

Ladies in Waiting by Hugh B. Cave, 1975
An over-explained and under-atmospheric story of a strange house. A wife is strangely attracted to it, her husband strangely repelled.

Moral fairytales

I don't necessarily mean moral as in upright. Several of the stories have clear roots in legend, and take a fairly direct path toward resolution.

The Basilisk by R. Murray Gilchrist, 1894
A lush and strangely sexy Victorian fairytale about a young woman who's in thrall to a basilisk, and her human lover who doesn't realize what he's up against. One wants to warn him of the obvious: "Young man, don't mess with basilisks."
Death and the Single Girl by Thomas M. Disch, 1976
An interesting, deadpan story that plays with the banal side of death by sex.
Death spread his suitcoat and unzipped his fly.

Jacqueline Ess: Her Will and Testament by Clive Barker, 1984
Power leading to degradation; love leading to a fall; ultimately, both protagonists are damaged enough to come together.

Slung's breathless introductions do the stories no favors. The buildup is gushing, and the purple prose is comical. I prefer to read the stories first, then scan the introductions for any points of interest. Slung introduces Jacqueline Ess with typical hyperbole:
In the dark miracle of Jacqueline Ess, Clive Barker has given us what may be the most daring and unnerving story many of you will ever encounter. For in exploring those deepest mythic recesses of female power which exist beyond any known responses, he moves instinctively into the realm of Circe, of Medusa, of Kali, of shape-changing goddesses and demons. Yet, despite its awesomely frightening special effects, for me this story is ultimately an allegory of the nature of desire, which is in itself an endless mystery.

But because there are what can only be termed harrowing perversions of desire on exhibit here, I must also stress the tenderness that unexpectedly breaks through. I could be mistaken, but I do think that Barker provides in "Jacqueline Ess" an utterly original expression of admiration for and homage to the smoldering primal force that is women's sexuality.
(I found the story interestingly plotted and constructed, but by no means "the most daring and unnerving story" I've ever encountered.)

I enjoyed about half stories from the collection, and found most of the rest interesting. But overall it's not the strongest collection; too many pieces are blandly written and not aging well.

I'm certain some of my reaction is due to reading these stories many years after they were first published, in a whole different literary culture. However, I can't evaluate these stories based on a hypothetical long-ago reader. As a book to read in 2007, I'd give it a C+ grade. If it were re-released with better introductions, I'd read it with historical curiosity... but I'd still find the writing a mixed bag.

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Monday, August 20, 2007

Steve Almond: My Life in Heavy Metal: Stories

My Life in Heavy Metal is a dozen stories about sex and love, being together and standing apart. Almond has a wonderfully strong and pungent voice. Some of the stories are excellent, some are duds; several have stuck with me. Well worth the read.

In the best of the collection, Almond truly inhabits his characters. Not only the protagonist, and not only the male characters; he also writes secondary characters who matter. The lively characters are the key to these stories in which, as Almond says, "What they do, and quite vigorously, is have sex and suffer heartbreak."

I really like that Almond uses sex to develop characters. In his stories, a sex scene or an emotional discussion doesn't halt the action; it's a means to explore conflict, to move the story forward. However, the earthiness of the stories gets strong reactions. Almond says his early reviews included headlines like "A Pervert Among Us" (NY Times Book Review, Apr '02), and "How Low Will He Go?" (Us, Jan '03).

The stories

Heavy Metal, Run Away My Pale Love, and Body in Extremis share a protagonist, a callow twentysomething who initially has his cake and eats it too. Some ten years later, he gets his just desserts. (Thank you, Steve Almond, for making your characters face their various assitudes. That twist provides an extra layer of development that's sometimes missing in short stories.)
Among the Ik
A widower feels his loneliness at a family gathering. A surprisingly touching story of loss.

Geek Player, Love Slayer
Almond creates a 30-something female journalist with a rapid cadence and a flip, hip way with words. Despite the irreverent, one-of-the-guys persona, she's vulnerable. She poses a good question, too, adding a dimension of social commentary:
How did Computer Guy become the Lifeguard of the decade? How did the mild-mannered Systems Manager morph into an omnipotent Geek Player, Love Slayer?
GP,LS is a favorite in the collection. Not because the protagonist is a woman (though Almond writes a great woman), or because I've experienced the pseudo-intimacy of the Geek Player crouching between my knees under my desk. From the first sentence the language makes me smile. Almond's sometimes rude, always lively narrative voice is especially strong here, even over the top in places. And despite its familiar plot, the story is meticulously structured to make for a satisfying resolution.

The Last Single Days of Don Viktor Potapenko
A 19-year-old would-be rebel meets a number of characters who genuinely live outside the conventions he grew up with. Among the least emotionally hooky stories in the collection.

The Law of Sugar
A strange little interlude between a librarian in a bar, a crank and his sister, and a... pack of feral dogs? Is this a shaggy dog story? It has all the makings, including the inconclusive ending. Enjoyably weird.

The Pass
A collection of ships passing in the night. Some good passages, some mawkish. Two strangers stranded at an airport.* A blind date. A bar pickup. Two gay soldiers far from home.
A man in a bar makes a pass at a woman. It's not a good era for passes, but he's giving it his all.
I enjoyed some of it very much, but the self-conscious pronouncements really got up my nose.
*This setup gave me déjà vu until I remembered Anne McCaffrey's Stitch in Snow. It even involves the Denver airport.

Moscow
Three pages of memories, of a phone call to Moscow and a factory tour in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Too oblique for me.

Valentino
A teenage boy spends the summer before college thinking about his status low in the social order. His train of thought is altered by a tale of Rudolph Valentino's emergence from overlooked to beautiful, from obscure to legendary.

How to Love a Republican
Two lobbyists--one for the left, one for the right--try for love without politics. He's deeply depressed over the lingering end of the 2004 presidential race; she's elated, energized, aware her party is taking her places. He wants to discuss their differing ideologies; she's deeply suspicious of the word, and perhaps of the whole conversation. Can they, and should they, go on?

Even the couple's sex life is mediated by their politics:
The female sex was, in political terms, the equivalent of the inner city: a dark and mysterious zone, vilified by the powerful, derided as incapable of self-improvement, entrenched and smelly. Going down on a woman was a dirty business, humiliating, potentially infectious, best delegated to the sensitivos of the Left.

I relished the act, which I considered to be what Joe Lieberman would have termed, in his phlegmy rabbinical tone, a mitvah. It required certain sacrifices. The deprivation of oxygen, to begin with. A certain ridiculousness of posture; cramping in the lower extremities. One had to engage with the process. There were no quick fixes.

Pornography
A vignette on women, violence, and men who are mesmerized by the two.

Interesting reading

Steve Almond on Moby Lives:
I view plot, most centrally, as a mechanism by which our heroine is forced to face her deepest fears and desires.
Bookslut has a great interview of Almond:
Why do you think so many authors have trouble writing sex scenes?

I don't know. I love it. I think it's, well, I don't know. It's hard to do, I guess. I think of it as… not easy, but you've got a lot to work with. You can talk about all of the senses, and it's a very emotional experience. I think it's in my work a lot because emotionally it's very extreme. It's a very vulnerable state, and I'm kind of an emotion junkie.

I know the culture at large is still stuck at the age 11 or 13 when it comes to sexuality. Everyone is so freaked out about it, even if they're "liberated." People are so fearful of their own desires that it becomes prurient, that sex doesn't feel very emotional to me. Sex in Hollywood movies seems so not hot. Porn is so stupid and terrible. You know what there isn't enough of is good, emotional, sensual writing, filmmaking, music. There just isn't enough of it, period. It's not just writers who struggle with that.
For Nerve, Almond's also written a 12-step program for writing sex scenes (including "sometimes sex is funny" and "Do not allow real people to talk in porn clichés"), and adjudicated a Bad Erotica contest. I'm sure that porn connotation will stick with him for a while, despite his other gig as pro blogger Baby Daddy.

Almond's received some attention for his nonfiction book Candyfreak: A Journey through the Chocolate Underbelly of America. I'm currently reading his collaborative epistolary novel with Julianna Baggott, Which Brings Me To You: A Novel in Confessions.

Overall grade for the collection: variable.... A few stories showed such an unique voice that I'll call it an A-.

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Friday, July 6, 2007

Paula Guran: Best New Paranormal Romance

While some of these stories are excellent, none of them resembles what I've previously read as "paranormal romance". Some are romantic; very few are paranormal. I'd call the collection a cross-section of supernatural and straight-up sci fi/fantasy, generally involving significant romantic relationships. I'll review the stories first, then talk about the collection as a whole and Guran's definition of paranormal romance.

[Update: Guran's new anthology is called Best New Romantic Fantasy 2, a much better title if it's like this collection.]


The stories


In many of these stories, a crucial part is the reader's unfolding understanding of the magical element. I'll try not to "spoil" that.

Follow Me Light by Elizabeth Bear
Alternately arid and gripping, in part because the story's time moves at varying speeds. At a couple of points Pinky comes into crisp focus with strong physical description; near the end the narrator does too.
Grade: B+

A Maze of Trees by Claudia O'Keefe
A strangely lovely story, full of longing and loneliness and sense of place. An excellent grounding in the physical world sets up a connection between the inner/outer realities that's essential to the story.
Grade: A-

The Shadowed Heart by Catherine Asaro
Straight-up space sci fi, of the dated variety. The characters are drawn in very archetypal male/female constructs: he large, half-machine, a warrior, isolated; she small, frail, a teacher, self-sacrificing, with a loving family.
Grade: C-

Walpurgis Afternoon by Delia Sherman
A drawing-room piece portraying magic as a charming addition to suburban life. Apparently magical people are attractive, nonjudgmental, well to do, content, and desirable neighbors. Not remotely a romance. Geoff and Burney seem to exist solely to express disapproval of (a) lesbianism and (b) magic. One such character in a short story gets the message across; two is the author clubbing me on the head.
Grade: C+

A Knot of Toads by Jane Yolen
Delightfully neo-Gothic. Yolen has a light, deft hand for a hair-raising tale. The 1930s setting adds atmosphere without making the story feel remote.
Grade: A-

Calypso in Berlin by Elizabeth Hand
Hand reaches back to the Odysseus story to evoke the cruel side of love and eternity. The most densely layered story in the collection, Calypso asks what we really love: the lover, or who we are with that person. Mordantly provocative.
Grade: B+

A Hero's Welcome by Rebecca York
Ultra-old-school sci fi. Again, archetypal characters, though better developed than in Shadowed Heart. Technically solid writing, but full of predictable tropes and not a particularly memorable voice.
Grade: C

Single White Farmhouse by Heather Shaw
More charm than plot. I enjoyed the Baba Yaga imagery and the overall concept, but that isn't enough to carry the story; it goes stale before the end. Like Walpurgis, a male secondary character serves as a disapproving Greek chorus over lesbianism and sex.
Grade: C+

Magic in a Certain Slant of Light by Deborah Coates
A well crafted story, just the right length for what it wants to tell. Nora's life is creeping toward predictability, psychically, emotionally, and professionally. Her regaining the magic is a straightforward story but with nice layerings of symbol and meaning.
Grade: B+

Fir Na Tine by Sandra McDonald
Men who burn, and the women who douse them? Something seems a little off in the premise. At its best, this should be a story of longing for the fire but being unable to survive it. But there are too many episodes that don't develop the story; it runs out of gas.
Grade: C+

A Treatise on Fewmets by Sarah Prineas
The only story in the collection that I think needs some attention to basic writing craft. Slightly clumsy prose and characterization. However, quirkiness saves Fewmets to some extent.
Grade: C-

The Hard Stuff by John Grant
Good writing, in an interestingly individual voice. I enjoyed the descriptions, from quotidian details to Fairyland experiences. The cultural setup is angry and exaggerated, but it mostly hangs together as part of the narrator's character and experiences. I was surprised by the almost grafted-on second ending. It's an interesting choice, to end a nebulous chain of events with such certainty.
Grade: B


The collection


I enjoyed the atmospheres conjured up by A Maze of Trees by Claudia O'Keefe and A Knot of Toads by Jane Yolen. Some of the other stories didn't seem very fresh or "new" to me. The two space stories in particular were so full of old-school sci fi tropes that I can't imagine why they were included as new, paranormal, or romance.

The writing is consistently high-quality, though a couple of the stories are insubstantial and fizzle after a few pages. Several stories have a strong theme of accepting difference. Magic, myth, and love are varyingly portrayed as a sweet part of everyday life, and as a more chilling power.

Some are love stories, but some aren't even vaguely romantic; I wonder whether simply including so-called feminine concerns (matings, weddings) justified their inclusion. Among the romances, in some the couple end up together; in some the resolution is loving but not necessarily "happily ever after". I appreciated the variety, but many genre romance readers would be taken aback. Similarly, a few stories involve the paranormal in some form, but others seem questionable. Much as Guran tries to define paranormal romance to include her odd selections, the collection really is misnamed.

In another strange editorial decision, two stories had very similar secondary characters: mature men who express nearly-identical views on lesbians. The scenes are remarkably similar. Is this de rigeur in tales of alternate matings? Is this man a stock character expressing societal disapproval? The purely emblematic nature of that character is especially clear in Walpurgis Afternoon, so I wasn't impressed to run across it again four stories later in Single White Farmhouse.


Defining paranormal romance



Paula Guran is the editor of fantasy imprint Juno Books and the Dark Echo horror blog, and not a fan of romance. Her introductory essay tries to redefine both "romance" and "paranormal". It's not an easy task (several authors attempted it on DearAuthor a few months ago). I'm more comfortable with Guran's definition of "romance" than her expansive take on "paranormal".

Guran sets out to explore both the "happily ever after" variety of genre romance and a realm of romance that doesn't guarantee the "HEA". I applaud the idea, but the execution is lacking. In particular, while I'm not a staunch defender of the HEA, it can work beautifully when done well. Unfortunately, the stories with the strongest HEAs are the weakest in the volume, laden with old-school conventions from past generations of both sci-fi and romance. I have to wonder whether Guran is trying to show weaknesses in the "happily ever after" convention, or whether she's not up to date on what is considered romance these days. In the book's introduction, Guran says she's "tried a few, but other than Barbara Michaels/Elizabeth Peters, Mary Stewart, and the romantic (but not Romance) novels of Daphne du Maurier... I don't recall reading much I liked." I think that statement explains some of the collection's weakness. (She also says "LKH wrote great sex scenes." Coming from sf/f/h, I can see why she'd think so. And I don't entirely disagree... or didn't the first time I read them. But again, does she know the modern romances?)

My larger issue with the collection is on the paranormal side. Guran opens up "paranormal" to include
the supernatural--magic, the occult, ghosts, shapechangers like werewolves, psychic powers, superhuman abilities, travel through time, fantastic or legendary creatures (vampires, fairies, gods and goddesses, angels, demons, and the like), a fantasy world or alternative-Earth or -reality setting, relationships that continue to exist over eras and eons, etc.--or have a futuristic or science-fictional element.
In short, any story not set in current reality. In my view, that definition is much broader than what's commonly understood to be paranormal fiction. Including sci fi and fantasy on that list is the largest problem; those are well-established as separate genres. It's a pity, because there are many sf/f collections out there; a "best of" for true paranormal fiction would be a unique contribution.

Guran's intro and her blog list Laurell K Hamilton, MaryJanice Davidson, Charlaine Harris, Christine Feehan, and Sherrilyn Kenyon as exemplars of paranormal romance--both HEA and other romance. I agree; those are among the names that have shaped the genre. I also really like how Guran characterizes these authors: as "fantasy adventure stories for women", in the style of Robert E Howard's Conan the Barbarian, with "romance as part of life's adventure". However, those authors have little in common with the stories selected for Best New Paranormal Romance. (On the other hand, I appreciate her inclusion of the Elizabeth Bear and Claudia O'Keefe stories: those are out of the ordinary but still distinctly paranormals.)

Guran quotes Kim Wilkins' article The Process of Genre: Authors, Reader, Institutions (2005), which says that "genres are formed in relation to reader reception and expectation" rather than by publishers' definitions. Supporting this, Guran points out that the public uses the term "paranormal romance" in a broader sense than do genre publishers. However, in this collection Guran--as a genre editor--redefines paranormal romance in a way that I don't think would be recognized by most readers of Hamilton, Davidson, Harris, and the rest. My feeling is that Guran has recycled a number of sci fi and fantasy ideas under a different name. As some of the DearAuthor commenters said, it could be a misguided grab to get the romance market reading sf/f. But my sense is more that Guran truly believes that this is a reasonable fit. I disagree.

Grade: The quality varied enormously, so I'll average it. B.
The book at Juno: www.juno-books.com/paranormal.html

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