I love short fiction, and Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it. Posts will range from flash to novellas. At some point, I might delve into individual stories/episodes of anthology formats in other media, like television and comics, but for the time being, I’m sticking to prose in print and audio.
Today I’m taking a look at three stories from the chock-full-of-greatness Uncanny Magazine #41, their July/August 2021 issue, edited as always by Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas. Seriously, there’s a ton of great stuff in this (and every) issue of Uncanny. Go back their current Kickstarter to fund year 8 of the magazine.
“From the Archives of the Museum of Eerie Skins: An Account” by C.S.E. Cooney
Sometimes when reading a story narrated in first person, I find myself wondering to whom the narrator is speaking. C.S.E. Cooney neatly addresses the issue by positing this whole story as a transcript of an interview with Firi Kanaphar, former wolfcaster in the city of Doornwald, as she relates how the loss of her wolfskin resulted in a societal shift in the relationship between wolfcasters (and other shifters) and witches. This is a wonderful slow-burn story, told conversationally, that builds to a horrific climax where revenge is achieved but the narrator’s life has already been irrevocably changed. The loss of Firi’s wolf-skin is a potent metaphor for rape or dismemberment, and the treatment of wolfcasters by witches is an equally obvious metaphor for racial prejudice. The story also addresses power dynamics – the abuser’s ability to continue to harm the abused even from a distance – and the ability of art to foment social justice and social change when the structures that are supposed to do so fail. It’s a powerful story that I am sure will reveal more layers and inspire deeper thinking each time I re-read it. (Side note: fans of Cooney’s “The Witch in the Almond Tree” and “The Bone-Swans of Amandale” will notice some familiar names in cameo appearances as well as place names.)
“The Wishing Pool” by Tananarive Due
“The Wishing Pool” is about the power and costs of wishes, in the finest fairy tale tradition. Joy ventures out to her family’s remote cabin to check on her ailing father, who is not doing well since his wife’s passing. The sights and sounds remind Joy of a brief childhood friendship centered around a “wishing pool” located between their cabins, and how their few wishes came true but went wrong (as is expected in this kind of story). Joy is desperate for her father to be happy and healthy again – but is she desperate enough to risk wishing on the pool and savvy enough to craft the wish in such a way to avoid it going wrong? Due imbues the story with all of the modern frustrations of dealing with an ailing parent who will not seek out the medical attention they so clearly need: carving out time from regular life and work to travel a great distance to check in on them, the realization that their health has deteriorated far more than suspected (in this case, lung disease and cognitive/memory decline), shouldering the decision-making burden when other siblings fail to step up. All of this adds great depth to Joy as a character and to the memories that bring her to her ultimate decision. I also appreciated Due including what ‘Nathan Burgoine sometimes refers to “that slight nod to reality that makes some people uncomfortable.” In this case, it’s a mention of how the family came to have this remote cabin: built by her grandfather to “hide from lynch mobs roused by their envy that a negro businessman could afford a shiny new Ford Model T.” It’s a throw-away line, but a reminder of history and a moment that ties this story with fantastical elements to our reality.
“Immortal Coil” by Ellen Kushner
Students of drama have been as fascinated by what we don’t know about the life of William Shakespeare as what we do know of his work, and it’s always fun reading genre stories that investigate that life. I personally also tend to be a little obsessed with genre stories about writers that explore their relationship with craft, process, and legacy (see, for instance, my “Top Ten-ish Stephen King Books”). Ellen Kushner brings both of those interests together in “Immortal Coil,” which gives us a mid-career(ish) William Shakespeare seeing what seems to be the ghost of his deceased friend and fellow playwright Christopher Marlowe. The figure leads Will on a merry chase across town using book titles as clues to where to go next, and when they finally are face-to-face, the truth of the situation is laid out and Will is made an offer. Kushner beautifully addresses the question every creative person asks themselves eventually: is it preferable to walk away/retire/die at the height of your career or to stay in the game/live a longer life and watch your skills, and reputation, deteriorate? I won’t spoil Will’s choice, nor the delightful coda Kushner gives the story. But I will say that I wonder if, given the opportunity, I would make the same choice.