Sunday Shorts: Transgender Day of Visibility

March 31st is this year’s Transgender Day of Visibility. Rather than just review a story or two, I thought I’d list just a few of the many wonderful transgender, non-binary, and genderfluid short story and novella writers whose work I have enjoyed over the years (in no particular order) and give some links to where you can find their work or more about them. (Also, apologies in advance to anyone I leave off. It’s not purposeful, and this is not meant to be a complete list. I’m working under a little bit of a deadline.

Everett Maroon. I loved Everett’s memoir (Bumbling into Body Hair) and his novel (The Unintentional Time Traveler, which I’m hoping we’ll get a sequel to). His short stories have appeared in a number of anthologies as well as one collection (Spinning Around a Sun).  https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/5759590.Everett_Maroon

Charlie Jane Anders. Charlie Jane has written YA novels (the Unstoppable trilogy), writing advice books (Never Say You Can’t Survive), novels (All the Birds in the Sky among them), and a good number of short stories (many collected in Even Greater Mistakes).  https://www.charliejaneanders.com/

Lee Mandelo. Lee wrote one of my favorite novels of 2021 (Summer Sons), one of my favorite novellas of 2023 (Feed Them Silence) and has another novella out this month (The Woods All Black, sitting atop my TBR pile right now), and his short stories can be found in places like Uncanny Magazine.  https://leemandelo.com/

K.M. Szpara. Novelist (First Become Ashes and Docile) and short story writer (appearances in Uncanny, Lightspeed, and elsewhere), K.M. also edited Transcendent: The Year’s Best Transgender Speculative Fiction 2016, published  by Lethe Press. https://www.kmszpara.com/

Jordan L. Hawk. Jordan mixes gay romance and sex with Lovecraftian horror (the Whyborne & Griffin series), supernatural detective stories (the Spirits series), shapeshifters (the Hexworld and Pride books) and more.  https://jordanlhawk.com/

Nino Cipri. Nino Cipri’s short stories have appeared in Fireside Fiction, Nightmare, and elsewhere and collected in Homesick: Stories. They have also written novellas (Finna and Defekt) and the upcoming YA novel Dead Girls Don’t Dream. https://ninocipri.com/

Bogi Takacs.  Bogi’s short stories have been collected in The Trans Space Octopus Congregation (2019) and Power to Yield (2024). E also edited the 2017 – 2019 editions of Transcendent: The Year’s Transgender Speculative Fiction. Check out eir Patreon as well. https://www.patreon.com/bogiperson/posts

S.A. Hunt. Samara Hunt is the author of the Malus Domestica horror series along with some short stories. She also has a Patreon. http://www.sahuntbooks.com/about.html https://www.patreon.com/sahuntbooks/posts?filters%5Btag%5D=space

A.M. Dellamonica. Author of the Indigo Springs and Hidden Sea Tales series, Dellamonica’s short stories have appeared in Lightspeed Magazine and Uncanny Magazine among other places.  https://alyxdellamonica.com/

Nisi Shawl. Novelist (Everfair and the recently-released Kinning) and non-fiction writer (including co-authoring Writing the Other with Cynthia Ward), Shawl’s short stories have appeared in Apex Magazine and  Nightmare Magazine among many others, as well as in too many anthologies to list.  http://www.nisishawl.com/Index.html

Neon Yang. The author of one of my favorite on-going novella series, the Tensorate series, as well as a novel (The Genesis of Misery), Yang’s short fiction has appeared in magazine like Clarkesworld, anthologies like The Book of Dragons, and on Tor.com (now called Reactor). https://neonyang.com/

Series Saturday: SLOW HORSES Season One

Slow Horses, Season One (2022)

Starred Gary Oldman, Jack Lowden, Kristin Scott Thomas

Produced by See-Saw Films, Flying Studio Pictures, Sony Pictures Television Studios

Originally aired on Apple TV+

I’ll start this off by admitting two things that are particularly relevant to this post, the first of which many people already know:

1.       When too many people emphatically recommend the same movie/television show/novel/comic book and repeatedly tell me how great it is and how I “have” to watch/read it … I tend to be less inclined to do so. Because what if I don’t love it as much as they did? Does that call their taste into question, or mine? This results in me “sleeping on” several shows, movies, books, and comics that I wind up enjoying, if not outright loving, eventually. Yes, Slow Horses is one of those. Three seasons have aired, a fourth and fifth are on their way, and I’ve finally just watched season one.

2.       I have not read Mick Herron’s Slough House series of novels (of which Slow Horses is the first), or anything else by the author. Yes, it’s partially because of how many people recommended the books to me even before the series started airing. Yes, it’s a deficiency in my spy literature reading. Yes, I intend to read them (I’ve already purchased the first two). Yes, it’s a large part of the reason that this is a Series Saturday post and not a Page-to-Screen post.

For those who don’t know: Slow Horses is about the agents at Slough House in London, a dumping ground for MI5 agents who have bungled their jobs badly enough to be given drudge jobs away from the real action but not badly enough to be outright fired. Yet, at least. Slough House is overseen by Jackson Lamb (played by Gary Oldman) and his quiet-but-competent secretary Catherine Standish (played by Saskia Reeves), in charge of a motley crew of mostly amiable screw-ups that include, at the start of season one, Sid Baker (Olivia Cooke), Louisa Guy (Rosalind Eleazar), Roddy Ho (Christopher Chung), Min Harper (Dustin Demri-Burns), Struan Loy (Paul Higgins), and Jed Moody (Steven Waddington). Enter River Cartwright (Jack Lowden), who should be MI5 “royalty” as the grandson of retired agent David Cartwright (Jonathan Pryce), except that he bungled a live practice terrorist scenario that, had it been real, would have resulted in hundreds of deaths.

The question at the start of season one is: did he really bungle it? Or was he set up? And if so, why?

While Cartwright ponders this, Slough House is tasked with monitoring a disgraced reporter with extreme right wing political organization ties, and possibly to the kidnapping of a Pakistani college student by a white power organization that has the nation’s attention, as well as the attention of MI5’s “Second Chair” Diana Tavener (Kristin Scott Thomas) and her trusty sidekicks Nick Duffy (Chris Reilly) and James “Spider” Webb (Freddie Fox), who was also one of Cartwright’s best friends prior to “the incident.” And this is all just the set-up. Things get far more complicated from there.

With just six episodes, season one of Slow Horses is tightly packed and fast paced. There really is no filler. There are also no “out of left field” reveals. Every revealed connection and uncovered secret regarding the disgraced reporter, the kidnapping, and what really happened during Cartwright’s test scenario, makes sense, and is seeded well before the reveals. There wasn’t any moment where I thought “where did that come from” although there were plenty of moments that surprised me – just because things are seeded well in previous episodes doesn’t mean every reveal is predictable (the difference between “I knew that would happen” and “I should have seen that coming”).

There’s a fine line between making a character unlikeable and making them unwatchable, and both Gary Oldman and Kristin Scott Thomas (as well as, to a lesser extent, Freddie Fox and Christopher Chung) walk that line expertly. Oldman’s Jackson Lamb is a slovenly, grouchy, insult-hurling functional alcoholic whose disdain for the screw-ups working under him is palpable (and nicely juxtaposed with how quick he is to jump to their rescue while making it seem like he doesn’t care at all). Before watching Slow Horses, I’d have said that Oldman’s portrayal of George Smiley in the 2011 Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy was his best spy role ever, but his Jackson Lamb is easily as, if not more, compelling. Diana Tavener is all bitchy cool efficiency and condescension as assayed by Kristin Scott Thomas. “Ice wouldn’t melt” is the phrase that comes to mind. Her every step is calculated, and from her first appearance you can tell just how manipulative and disregarding she is. Lamb cares about his people even as he talks down about them; Tavener cares only for herself. It’s a credit to both actors’ skills that they can make static scenes of sitting on a park bench having a conversation more fraught with tensions than any high-speed foot chase through an airport.

Not that Jack Lowden wasn’t excellent in the opening scene of the first episode, which ended with that high-speed chase. Just – the bench scene was so much tenser.

Lowden is the third name in the opening credits alongside Oldman and Scott Thomas, and River Cartwright really is the focal character for season one and probably for the whole series. Lowden’s Cartwright is disgruntled, rightfully so, but not so bitter that he’s given up the way Lamb has. Cartwright knows he didn’t screw up; knows he was given bad intel by Webb – but doesn’t know why and is still determined to do the best job he can to work his way back into the department’s good graces. Lowden plays all the emotions of Cartwright’s arc well, including his truly clear love and respect for his grandfather.

The rest of the Slow Horses range from plot-device level characterization (Moody and Loy) to characters with intriguing hints of backstory I expect will play out over future seasons (Standish) or hopefully futures (Guy and Harper). Scenes later in the season where the team must figure out what’s going on while on the run from MI5’s security detail (nicknamed “the Dogs”) really give Reeves, Chung, Eleazar, and Demri-Burns moments to shine both on the characterizational and competency levels. Yes, the Slow Horses are all screw-ups – but there are scenes that remind us that most of them were agents in good standing at one time.

The season finale wraps up the main storylines, corresponding (or so I’ve been told) with the conclusion of book one in the novel series. But there are plenty of unanswered questions, particularly about Lamb and Standish’s former boss and about David Cartwright’s history, that will clearly propel subplots in season two (which I should be posting a review of in a few weeks).

I am glad I finally gave in to all the recommendations. If you’re a fan of spy thrillers that are a bit more thought-provoking and nuanced rather than being a series of ever-escalating stunts and explosions, I think you’ll enjoy Slow Horses as well.

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics. If you liked this post, I’ve previously written about dramatic TV series such as Perry Mason Season One and Terriers both of which were also shows I “slept on” for too long.

Book Review: THE VINEYARD REMAINS

TITLE: The Vineyard Remains

AUTHOR: Addison McKnight

363 pages, Lake Union Publishing, ISBN 9781542038133 (paperback, also e-book)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

The Vineyard Remains is the sophomore effort from Addison McKnight, following their 2023 debut An Imperfect Plan. Much like the previous novel, The Vineyard Remains focuses on the lives of two women inextricably connected through childhood trauma that reverberates into their adult lives. McKnight is adept at weaving secrets and psychological drama with a very realistic look at the way women are judged both by society and each other, regardless of whether the things they are being judged for are within their control or not.

Cousins Angel and Kiki were pre-teen long distance best friends, seeing each other in person for only a few weeks each summer when Angel’s family visited family on Martha’s Vineyard, both her mother’s parents and her father’s brothers, one of whom was Kiki’s father. That all changed the year Angel’s mother killed her abusive husband (a night Angel has only hallucinatory memories of). Angel and her brother TJ are taken in by her mother’s parents, renamed Angela and Thomas, but Kiki’s father refuses to let her be friends with Angela anymore. Things are never the same between the girls, despite the similarities in their upbringings and the personalities of their fathers. As they age, the girls become rivals for the same boy – high school baseball phenom Bo Brooks – and unknowingly both become pregnant by him at the same time. This sets them on a lifetime course of bitter, and increasingly hostile, interactions.

There are several underpinning mysteries that propel the narrative: what happened the night Angela’s father was killed? where did Kiki’s missing mother go? and what occurred the night the babies were born? McKnight peppers clues about each throughout the decade-plus-spanning chapters, and thus throughout Angela and Kiki’s lives. It’s definitely a slow burn to the final reveals. Perhaps too slow. If I have one complaint about the book, it’s that the third quarter of it feels like the narrative is spinning its wheels in place – all the complications have been introduced, revelations should be imminent, and yet they don’t come for another 70 pages or so. It reminded me of when dramatic television series were 22-24 episodes long and 3-4 of those episodes were usually filler material because the season’s big mystery couldn’t be solved until the final episodes.

On the other hand, where McKnight really excels is at showing the difficulties of recovering from trauma and the circular thought patterns and recurring unhealthy habits that come from that trauma. And maybe that’s the point of those “wheel spinning in place” chapters I felt were so slow. Both Angela and Kiki are locked in patterns both emotional and physical that directly tie back to their different but shared childhood traumas. Every breakthrough, every attempt to change the pattern, is followed by backsliding as old habits and emotions rear up.

I try to avoid spoiling big reveals, so the most I’ll say about the final quarter of the book is that all the mysteries of the past are revealed, and all the roadblocks and complications of the characters’ adult lives are resolved (if not necessarily happily for everyone involved).

Also, it only occurs to me as I’m posting this that the title of this book can be read (interpreted) more than one way. Very cool playing with words, Addison McKnight!

I received an advance reading e-book 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.

Theater Thursday: SWEENEY TODD (2023 Revival)

With the current revival of Sweeney Todd due to close in just over a month (May 5th), I thought it was high time for me to post my thoughts about the performance I saw back in January.

Ticket sales for Sweeney, by all accounts, dropped quite a bit between the final performances of Josh Groban and Annaleigh Ashford and the first performances of Aaron Tveit and Sutton Foster – and that’s a shame, because the cast we saw was unequivocally fantastic. This prevailing attitude that understudies/standbys/replacements aren’t as worthy of attention as “big name” stars is sad, in my opinion.

Nicholas Christopher’s Sweeney was everything you’d want Sweeney to be: gruff, obsessed, forlorn and yet at times kind of likeable despite, you know, the whole slitting throats thing. Christopher’s rendition of “My Friends” was moving, his “Epiphany” downright frightening. His portion of the “Johanna” sequence in act two was heartbreaking. He played the arc from revenge-driven to murder-obsessed to accepting of his fate beautifully.

Jeanna de Waal’s Mrs. Lovett was equally as layered and was the highlight of the show. I have never been a fan of “By the Sea,” but she made it an enjoyable character moment for me, the eye into just how obsessed Lovett is with Sweeney that I think the song was always intended to be, imagining a future we as the audience know is unrealistic to a fault. And boy, did she sell “The Worst Pies in London,” not just with her voice but with physical humor and facial contortions that stopped short of being over-the-top. “Wait,” a song I tend to forget even exists until it starts, displayed a subtler side of how convincing Lovett could be.

And needless to say based on the preceding two paragraphs, in the hands of Christopher and de Waal “A Little Priest” was every bit the dark, disturbing comedic tour-de-force it should be. It brought down the house.

In my opinion, the Beggar Woman is one of the more thankless roles in this or any show: the character doesn’t have any huge show-stopping number to showcase an actor’s chops. She is easily written off as more plot device than character, spending half the play being vulgar and the rest practically screaming. Ruthie Ann Miles imbued the part with the right levels of mania and anguish for us to see the Beggar Woman as a real, extremely damaged, person and thus elicit pity.

“Not While I’m Around” is my personal favorite song in the show, and Daniel Marconi as Tobias Ragg delivered it sweetly and innocently. If I have any complaint about this production, though, it’s that Marconi’s Tobias felt a little too cunning/wily while enticing customers during “Pirelli’s Magical Elixir,” at odds with the simple-minded boy who sings “Not While I’m Around.” Tobias is supposed to be a slow-witted victim, both of Pirelli’s obvious emotional and physical abuse and Mrs. Lovett’s condescension and treating him like a pet (“Isn’t it a sweet boy” – it, instead of he), which makes his awareness of Sweeney’s evil that much more of a surprise. Still, Marconi’s interpretation of Tobias’ love for his “rescuer,” Mrs. Lovett, and of his mental breakdown at the end of the play, were spot on.

Rounding out the main cast, Daniel Yearwood as Anthony and Maria Bilbao as Johanna were perfectly matched – earnest, infatuated young lovers who are obsessed with each other as Sweeney is with revenge and Lovett is with Sweeney. If I have a second complaint, it’s that I felt Jamie Jackson’s Judge Turpin, obsessed with Johanna and power, lacked any real sense of menace (although he did still come across as creepy/slimy), and that John Rapson’s Beadle Bamford was almost too flamboyant (an interpretation of the character I’ve never seen before). That said, “Pretty Women” was a highlight of the show, and “Parlor Songs” was humorous.

Full credit to the great Thomas Kail for his direction. He has a fantastic sense of when to focus on the spectacle (the final sequence) and when to focus on the characters. The set design by Mimi Lein is a minimalistically steampunk aesthetic, perfectly juxtaposed with Emilio Sosa’s period-appropriate costumes. I know there’s been some negativity about Steen Hoggett’s herky-jerky, swaying choreography but I found it to be intriguing and exactly right for the mood, especially in the opening and closing “Ballad of Sweeney Todd” numbers where it was mesmerizing. This is, after all, a horror story.

So – while you can, heed the words of the Ballad. Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd, at the Lunt-Fontanne Theater through May 5. (I would gladly see it one more time if finances and time permitted.)

I’ve always loved live theater, and in the past couple of years I’ve been making a stronger effort to see more of it. Theater Thursday is a new occasional series where I talk about live theater, both shows I’ve seen recently and shows I’ve loved in the past.

Macbeth Monday: WHY?

It is no secret that Macbeth is my favorite play by Williams Shakespeare. I will see every live production I can. I have many of the filmed versions on DVD (but not all, especially if you include all the pastiches and “based loosely on…” films). I have comic book and graphic novel adaptations, and more novels and non-fiction books about both the real King Macbeth and Shakespeare’s version than I have ever managed to read.

But if I’m being honest … I have no idea when my obsession with this Shakespeare work started.

 Most of my lifelong pop culture obsessions I can trace back to my father. His love of classic black and white horror films and Abbott and Costello led to my love of all things connected to Dracula. His love of musicals (Broadway and film) and classic Disney (animated and live action) led to my love of all things Arthurian (thanks to the Broadway cast album and movie versions of Camelot and the Disney animated classic The Sword in the Stone). My wildly diverse musical taste (Barbershop Quartet to hard rock)? My love of slapstick comedy and fast-talking comedy duos? My continuing to root for the Mets and the Giants despite rarely watching sports on television anymore? All Dad’s fault.

But Macbeth? Not sure I can toss the credit/blame his way on this one. He was not a fan of Shakespeare (except when there was a musical connection, as in Kiss Me, Kate). Yes, he and his brothers were first-generation Americans of Scots descent (both of my paternal grandparents came from Scotland as adults). But he never seemed to care about his Scots heritage (possibly because of bad blood between him and my grandfather, who passed when I was young), so I doubt Macbeth would have come up in that context.

I can’t even remember when I first encountered the play. I know it was before we studied it in high school. It may have been in the 1937 leatherbound edition of the Complete Works of William Shakespeare published by Walter J. Black, given to me in middle school by my Aunt Frances (who was not from the Scots side of the family), but did middle school me really randomly flip through the book and chance upon Macbeth some 1,100 pages in? I guess it’s possible. Or maybe it was a random Saturday or Sunday viewing of Akira Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood, his adaptation of Macbeth, on one of the local NYC television stations that filled weekend airwave hours with badly-dubbed Japanese martial arts and monster movies (another fave of my father’s, leading to my lifelong Kaiju affection) and occasionally threw in more high-brow dubbed fare.

The first live production I remember seeing was a touring company of British actors that came to Mahopac High School my senior year (or maybe it was junior). What I remember most about that production was that men played the Three Witches, something I’d previously only seen done in the comedy of Monty Python, Flip Wilson, the Carol Burnett Show, etc... In hindsight, it seems there wasn’t much memorable about the performance other than that it was the first time I saw Macbeth live. It certainly wasn’t the last.

Okay, so don’t remember my first encounter with the play, and only vaguely remember the first live production I saw. But the title of this post is “Why Macbeth?” As in, why is it my favorite?

Young me was definitely obsessed with the supernatural elements: the Witches, the visions, the ghost of Banquo! And probably a bit with the bloodshed as well. But definitely the supernatural elements. Middle school was also when I was becoming obsessed with Dracula and read Bram Stoker’s novel for the first time, and when my love of all things Arthurian was also ramping up (most of my classmates didn’t really like reading “Gawain and the Green Knight,” but man did I love it, because supernatural doings!) The more supernatural, the better!

But while those scenes remain favorites and are looked forward to every time I see the show, I’ve also come to appreciate Shakespeare’s depth of character in all the leads (Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Banquo, and Macduff), and how they respond to prophecy and to plain fact. Even though The Bard was writing several hundred years before the British historian Lord Acton penned his famous phrase about power, I do think that Shakespeare was delving into the concept that “power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Macbeth starts the play as a loyal Thane, confused by why the Witches would address him with titles beyond his scope. It takes him a while to come around to the idea of murdering Duncan; he vacillates mightily before agreeing to do the deed. But it’s all downhill from there. Even having murdered his predecessor, he could still have been a good King, lived a repentant life – but once he has the power, he becomes paranoid and controlling, obsessed with the idea of a legacy the Witches promised to someone else. Corrupt. While at the same time, his wife descends into mental illness, depression, and suicide. Lady Macbeth’s move from enabler and co-conspirator to guilt-wracked sleepwalker is as moving as her husband’s shift from loyal Thane to genocidal despot. And in my mind, there is no doubt that they love each other deeply, from start to finish. I am NOT a fan of Shakespeare’s romances (Romeo & Juliet: ugh) but I think he manages to make it clear Macbeth and his Lady do love each other, which enables us to wonder: in different circumstances, what kind of power couple could they have been?

In his fantastic one-man show All the Devils Are Here, the actor Patrick Page traces Shakespeare’s development of the concept of the villain. Macbeth is of course included in the show. In a talk-back with the audience after the performance I saw in December 2023, Page said something that made me view Macbeth in yet another light. Responding to a question about how he finds his way into playing so many villainous roles, Page said that his first question is always “what does this person ultimately want?” And, he said, for Macbeth that is to overcome his fears. He’s afraid of the Three Witches, so he meets them head-on. He’s afraid of killing Duncan, so he does it. He’s afraid of losing the power he’s gained, so he has more people killed to protect it. He’s afraid of death, so when confronted with Macduff, not “of woman born,” but “ripped untimely from his mother’s womb,” Macbeth cries “Lay on, Macduff, and damned be he who first cries ‘hold, enough.’” I had never looked at the character, or the arc of the play, from that perspective before: conquering one’s fears.

I am also intrigued by the staging and costuming choices made by each new production. I’ve seen the show performed in “authentic” Scots dress of the period Macbeth takes place in (roughly 1040, when the real Macbeth reigned), in the dress of Shakespeare’s time, in Russian military uniforms of the Cold War, in modern dress, and more. Each choice brings distinct aspects of the script, and its relationship to our current day obsessions with power, wealth, destiny, and legacy, to light.

So. Why do I love Macbeth so much? There’s no one reason. I love the supernatural aspects, I love the commentary on power and motivation and guilt and paranoia, I love the power of the soliloquies. I also love that Shakespeare gave us what might have been the first written “alternate history” (because he knew darn well that his history of Duncan, Macbeth, and company was nowhere near the real history) with speculative fiction aspects – which might need to be the subject of a future Macbeth Monday post.

Do you also love Macbeth? Why or why not? And if not – what is your favorite Shakespeare play?

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.

There’s currently only one previous Macbeth Monday post, about Drunk Shakespeare NYC’s production. But I also posted my thoughts on Patrick Page’s All the Devils Are Here in a recent Theater Thursday post.

Sunday Shorts: Two by Sharang Biswas

Sharang Biswas is a game designer, writer, and artist based in New York City whose stories and poetry have appeared in Nightmare Magazine, Fantasy Magazine, Baffling Magazine, Sana Stories, Strange Horizons, and elsewhere. Look him up on his website. Today, I’m going to look at his two most recent stories that appeared in Lightspeed Magazine, edited by John Joseph Adams. Lightspeed Magazine contents are free to read on the website and e-book subscriptions are also available.

“Real Magic” (Lightspeed Magazine #153, February 2023)

Three townspeople visit the Witch in the Woods to ask for help with their problems. She extracts a different price from each, something either cherished or endemic to the person’s sense of self. Each visitor ultimately finds what they are searching for (or searching for relief from), but not in the way they or the reader expects. The witch uses their ingredients to do real magic. This is a beautifully told story, a fairy tale in style but cloaked in Biswas’ beautiful sense of character and community. Biswas uses the needs of the visitors (and their resolutions) to show that every individual action has an effect outside the moment in which that action is taken or that choice is made. Nothing happens in a vacuum, no one person’s fate is theirs alone. What one person discards (willingly or not) may be picked up by another (who may or may not benefit from it). I also loved how Biswas doesn’t spoon-fed the connections between the villagers’ stories but lets them come out organically and not all at once.

“Season of Weddings” (Lightspeed Magazine #166, March 2024, story goes live on the website March 28th)

Nate receives seven wedding invitations in one year. Okay, two of them are for his job, which is maybe a little less fun than attending as a guest. Especially because it quickly becomes apparent to the reader that Nate is Thanatos, god of death. Sometimes, people die at weddings. Still reeling from his most recent relationship break-up (with Thor, who has moved on to loving a mortal woman), Nate must navigate these weddings, new singlehood, his job, his perhaps too-pushy best friend, and a cute guy he keeps bumping into at the weddings. This story is so sweet, so romantic and wistful. I recognized some of myself in Nate’s self-esteem issues around romance and relationships, which made me connect to the work even more. The world-building is also wonderful, bringing together characters from all sorts of world mythologies and religions but tweaking them in new and interesting ways (for instance, the Thor is this story is neither the “drunken jock” we often see nor the blond-tressed super-hero). I won’t spoil who all shows up, because part of the fun of the story is the reveals of Nate’s friends’ circle. I’m a sucker for “deities and personifications of human concepts walk among us and act like every-day people” types of stories (think the classic issue number eight of Neil Gaiman’s the Sandman, illustrated by Mike Dringenberg, among others), and this one fits the description very well. It also fits very well as a paranormal romance, and I love it when authors blend and blur genres.

I love short fiction, and Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it. I’ve considered promising to review a short story every day, but that’s a lot of pressure. And while no one will fault me if I miss days, I’ll feel guilty, which will lead to not posting at all. So better to stick to a weekly post highlighting a couple/three stories, as I’ve done in the past. Click on the Sunday Shorts tab at the bottom of this post to find earlier entries in the series!

Series Saturday: THE ATOMIC KNIGHTS

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

Cover art by Murphy Anderson

The Atomic Knights, published by DC Comics, (hardcover collected edition: 2010)

Writers: John Broome

Art: Murphy Anderson

Editor: Julius Schwartz

I could write a whole post (and perhaps someday I will) on how I have DC’s 100-Page Spectaculars of the 1970s (and to a lesser extent, their digest-sized reprints in the 80s) to thank for my love of most of the company’s non-super-hero content, and in particular DC’s science fiction, adventure team, and historical characters of the early Silver Age (not to mention my love of their Golden Age superheroes). On the science fiction side of things, those oversized issues were rife with reprints of the exploits of (among others) Tommy Tomorrow, Adam Strange, the Star Rovers, Space Cabby, and the Atomic Knights.

Written by John Broome, with art by Murphy Anderson, and under the editorship of Julie Schwartz, the Knights debuted in Strange Adventures #117 (June 1960) and ran intermittently in the title under #160 (January 1964), a mere 15 adventures in three-and-a-half years. But what adventures they were – and what an effect they had on pre-teen and early-teen me when they were reprinted a decade or so later. I no longer own most of the various issues those reprints appeared in, nor do I know if every single Atomic Knights story was reprinted at the time. But in 2010, DC published a hardcover collection of all 15 original stories. I recently re-read it, hence this post.

For those who may not be familiar with the Atomic Knights, here’s the set-up: it is 1986 and World War III, the Great Atomic War, is over after a scant 20 days. Amnesiac soldier Gardner Grayle finds his way to a ruined city whose citizens are desperate for food and medicine, both of which are being hoarded by a warlord calling himself the Black Baron. Grayle teams up with some of the locals (Douglas Herald, a teacher; Marene, Douglas’s sister; redheaded twin brothers Hollis and Wayne Hobard; and a scientist named Bryndon) to take down the Baron wearing ancient armor that is impervious to the Baron’s radioactive weapons. Hence, the group name. The Baron is, unsurprisingly, defeated and run off in the first episode, whereafter the Knights alternate between protecting their small city of Durvale from a variety of menaces and traveling out to explore what’s left of the United States of America.

As was typical of comics of the period, the characterizations are rather flat, with each team member designed to fill a particular role. Gardner is the square-jawed, death-defying, motivational-speech-giving, “do what’s right no matter how dangerous” leader. Douglas is the practical-minded, thoughtful second-in-command and provider of much exposition. Marene is the requisite damsel-in-distress love interest. Wayne and Hollis are the loyal, do-as-told, muscle of the group. Bryndon is the scientist, the gadget man, and the not-so-subtle reminder that science without conscience is usually not a good thing. There are moments where some of these molds are broken (Wayne and Hollis get to build gliders for the team to use, something that usually would be Bryndon’s role; Marene finally gets to go undercover and save the day in the series’ final installment, “Here Come the Wild Ones,” although Broome still can’t resist having the story end with her thinking that as happy as she is that her mission was a success, she’d be happier if she and Gardner could finally get married and start a family.) but for the most part, each character plays his/her assigned role.

The stories started out very episodic, rarely mentioning what had come before other than the team’s origin. In the early adventures, the team visits other small enclaves of surviving humans as well as the remains of New York City and Los Angeles (in later stories, they also get to New Orleans, Detroit, and Washington DC), each time facing radiation-created monsters or greedy humans who need to be defeated. With the introduction of a revived Atlantean civilization as a threat, the stories develop stronger internal continuity, and it becomes clearer that the stories are progressing in something close to real time. While the stories were published between 1960 and 1964, the characters progress from 1986 to 1992, with some amazing advances in recovery from an atomic war (or “the hydrogen war,” as it’s called in some stories). The Atlantean threat is a 3-parter which also introduces the giant dalmatians (the first giant irradiated creatures that do not pose a threat) that will serve as the Knights’ steeds for the rest of the run.

Actual aliens visit the radiation-devastated Earth in “Menace of the Metal-Looters,” one of the series’ weaker entries, but they are the only extra-terrestrial threat the Knights face – the exception that proves the series’ rule: we humans are our own worst enemies, whether through misused technology, hubris and greed, or both. Okay, that’s not 100% true. “When The Earth Blacked Out” reveals that World War III / the Nuclear War / The Hydrogen War started not because of any one nation, but because of an energy pulse sent out by an underground civilization of mole people! (It was the 1960s, and lost underground civilizations were all the rage in SF and comics.) Douglas’ declaration that “we humans still cannot escape responsibility” (because we created the bombs in the first place) feels a little tacked on, almost insincere. I get what Broome was going for, but I think it would have been better for the series overall if the actual start of the war had just been left unexplored.

Throughout the run, Murphy Anderson’s art is consistently excellent. His characters have distinct facial features and body language, his action sequences are dynamic, and even the silliest monsters (I say again: mole people!) are threatening. There’s a reason he’s one of the most highly regarded and revered artists of the late Golden and Silver Age.

The 2010 hardcover collection does not include the Atomic Knights’ later appearances in DC Comics’ Kamandi and Hercules Unbound, wherein it was revealed that all three series shared the same future world, nor their appearance in DC Comics Presents. The Kamandi and Hercules Unbound appearances are included in a black-and-white paperback collection called Showcase Presents the Great Disaster Starring the Atomic Knights (whew!), which I recently ordered a copy of. I look forward to revisiting those stories. I do own a copy of the DC Comics Presents issue where Superman “teams up” with the Atomic Knights. I’ve always been conflicted about it. On the one hand, it relegates the original Strange Adventures stories to being the dreams of a soldier (Gardner Grayle) in suspended animation, in an unnecessary attempt to explain why the series’ 1986 and the real world 1986 look different – which I think does a disservice to Broome and Anderson. On the other hand, it did pave the way for a “modern times” Gardner Grayle to join The Outsiders (one of my then-favorite titles and teams) as The Atomic Knight, which I really liked.

Overall, my reread of the hardcover collection cemented why the sometimes-silly post-apocalyptic Atomic Knights series was, and remains, one of my favorite non-superhero DC runs.

If you enjoyed this post, check out some of my previous DC comics-related Series Saturday posts:

Silverblade, First Issue Special, Nathaniel Dusk, Young Heroes in Love

Theater Thursday: OLIVER! at City Center May 2023

I’ve always loved live theater, and in the past couple of years I’ve been making a stronger effort to see more of it. Theater Thursday is a new occasionally series where I talk about live theater, both shows I’ve seen recently and shows I’ve loved in the past.

I saw the City Centers Encores! production of Oliver! On May 6, 2023. Encores! productions traditionally run for only two weeks (although in 2024 they’ve increased that to three), and I managed to see the opening Saturday matinee performance, which included a cast-and-crew “talkback” after the show. With Encores! runs of Into the Woods and Parade having transferred to Broadway shortly after closing, I had hopes that this would follow suit, but we’re well into 2024 with no announcements so that’s probably not happening. A shame because this production deserved a larger audience.

The character of Fagin, and the original performances by Ron Moody and Clive Revill (we had the movie and Broadway cast albums in my house growing up, and I loved both), makes such a large impression on the audience that it is easy to forget Fagin doesn’t appear until near the end of Act One. Raul Esparza’s Fagin was equal parts gleeful and woebegone, every number a real treat (none more so than his “Reviewing the Situation,” where he interacts with the first violin as another character (all in his head, of course). I realized during the talkback that Esparza was fighting something (a head cold? The flu?) but you would not have known it from the performance he gave.

Tam Mutu’s Bill Sikes was perhaps the scariest interpretation of the character for me since Oliver Reed in the 1968 film. (Oliver Reed had a habit of scaring the pants off me as a kid – I’ve still not been able re-watch The Curse of the Werewolf. I really should…) Brad Oscar and Mary Testa provided pitch-perfect comic relief as Mister Bumble and Widow Corney (as did Thom Sesma and Rashidra Scott as the funereal Mr. and Mrs. Sowerberry), not necessarily easy in a show that gets as dark as Oliver! does. Still, Oscar and Testa’s “I Shall Scream” was dysfunctional courtship at its finest, and as I am a fan of dark humor, I really enjoyed Sesma and Scott’s “That’s Your Funeral.”

But the standout among the adults, for me, was Lilli Cooper as Nancy. Her “As Long as He Needs Me” must be the new standard to strive for when performing the song. Her Nancy is strong, self-aware (she knows exactly what kind of relationship she’s in with Sikes), but also stuck in the pattern society allows for a woman of her socioeconomic status and making the best of terrible things. Her “It’s a Fine Life” and “Oom-Pah-Pah” are full of the joy of life, and her interactions with Oliver, Dodger and the boys in “I’d Do Anything” were as loving and sweet as Fagin’s during “You’ve Got To Pick A Pocket or Two” and “Be Back Soon” are self-serving and skeevy.

Speaking of the kids. Julian Lerner’s comedic timing made it easy to be charmed by his Artful Dodger, the leader of Fagin’s group of extremely energetic and talented group of boy dancer/singers (who were all wonderful, but I have to call out the incredibly acrobatic Michael Cash, whose in-place high-speed back-flips during “Who Will Buy” got a huge response from the audience when he was done. I have no idea if he can tap-dance, but if Billy Elliot comes back to Broadway before Cash gets too much older, he’s got to be a shoo-in for the lead). Benjamin Pajak’s performance as Oliver was every bit as innocent and lovable as one would want, with a crystal clear, emotive voice. His “Where Is Love” stopped the show, and everyone around me had tears in their eyes (including me). Oliver, like Annie and Matilda and Billy Elliot, is on stage for most of the show, and Pajak shouldered that responsibility with energy, poise, and genuine emotion. He more than held his own on stage with some Broadway powerhouses, and I’m sure he’ll be working consistently (as he seems to be with showcases and staged readings of various musicals featured on his Instagram).

I also really enjoyed the talkback after the Saturday matinee performance (photo below). I cannot recall the name of the City Center producer who read questions submitted in advance by audience members,  but the talkback featured director Lear DeBessonet, musical director Mary-Mitchell Campbell, most of the adult leads (Esparza, Cooper, Mutu, Oscar, and Testa), and Michael Cash representing the kids in the cast. (I assume Pajak and Lerner, being leads, had mandatory relaxation time between performances.) The cast were frank in their discussion of the darker themes of the play – misogyny, child abuse (Oliver is sold into child labor; the orphan boys are trained by Fagin to steal), domestic abuse (Sikes’ physical and emotional abuse of Nancy is not downplayed or avoided, although thankfully her death occurs off-stage), among others, and DeBessonet was open about her discussions with the cast and creative crew in how to present those sensitive issues to a modern audience. Esparza and DeBessonet also talked about how the show portrays Fagin’s Jewishness in comparison to the original novel (in which Dickens employed every horrible stereotype he knew, and usually referred to the character simply as “the Jew”), and how they worked to not make this Fagin a stereotype. Esparza’s story about being at the sitzprobe (first meeting of cast and orchestra), hearing the violin intro to “Reviewing the Situation” and saying “Oh, a Klezmer band! So we’re doing this…” got a great reaction from the audience (and as mentioned, his interactions with the first chair violin were perfect).

Oliver! is one of my favorite shows, for the music alone, and a sentimental favorite because I auditioned for (but was not cast in) a production at An Evening Dinner Theater back in the early 80s. Yes, the book has problems (Act One is almost completely songs, which is fine, but the transitions between those songs are awkward at best; and again, there’s those dark themes that aren’t explored as fully as they could have been). But I’m glad to have seen the Encores! production with this terrific cast.

Book Review: DEATH COMES TOO LATE

TITLE: Death Comes Too Late

AUTHOR: Charles Ardai

397 pages, Hard Case Crime, ISBN 9781803366265 (paperback, e-book)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

MY THOUGHTS: In celebration of the 20th anniversary of the Hard Case Crime imprint, the publishers have released Death Comes Too Late, a collection of 20 mostly noir short stories from across the career of imprint founder Charles Ardai. The author admits the choice of title is a bit cheeky for a collection of stories in which death seems to arrive in a timely manner, if not early and unexpectedly. Regardless, it is a phenomenal collection by an author who I think is truly underrated. I say this as someone who is mostly familiar with Ardai as founder/editor/publisher and who had previously read only one of the stories contained herein.

That story, “Mother of Pearl,” blew me away when I first read it in From Sea to Stormy Sea (edited by the great Lawrence Block), and it blew me away again here. It is one of the few non-noir stories in the collection, if noir must include a crime or double-cross of some kind. There is a mystery at its core – who is this nameless, seemingly genderless, narrator telling us this tale of a young woman’s search for the truth of her father’s death and the mother who put her up for adoption? As I said back in 2020, the story is “a rumination on success, failure, identity, and the search for where we come from,” and upon multiple rereads I continue to find some moment or bit of phrasing or twist in the story that didn’t stand out to me on previous reads. As with most of the stories in Death Comes Too Late, “Mother of Pearl” has layers upon layers, twists to the twists, that keep you wondering where Ardai is leading you right up to the last paragraph.

I think it is safe to say that the whole collection is a rumination on success, failure, identity, and the search for where we come from (sometimes to embrace it, sometimes to understand it, sometimes to leave it behind). And equally safe to say that most of the time, those ruminations take some long, complicated routes to get to that moment of embracing, understanding, or leave-taking.

The book starts strong with “The Home Front,” in which a private investigator hired by the United States government to suss out black marketeers during World War Two is responsible for the accidental death of a young man he’s just arrested – which is just the start of a journey that turns brutal and bloody by the end while our protagonist tries to decide who he is after the tragedy. This is followed by “Game Over,” which starts with a boy’s simple wish to treat his less-well-off best friend to a free afternoon of video games at the local pizza place but whose plan to do so results in wounded pride, misunderstanding, harsh accusations, and yes tragedy. Two quite different time frames with characters of very different ages, both dealing with expectations of who they are based on something someone else has done (or not done). “The Fall of Man” is another heartbreaking story with a teen at the center, a startlingly honest look at suicide and its aftermath.

Charles Ardai is an expert at making sure his stories don’t end where they start – those long, complicated routes mentioned earlier – even when obeying genre dictates. “The Case” starts out as a standard “missing luggage” story but neatly twists through two characters’ points-of-view into something that would be at home on Alfred Hitchcock Presents. “Goin’ West” starts with a classic “Hollywood casting couch” scene (only in New York) that doesn’t quite go where you’d expect but with a conclusion that feels inevitable. “The Shadow Line” opens with our narrator waking up in a room in Mexico with a sex worker, intent on hunting down a man he’s been sent to locate – but not for the reasons that seem apparent. “Jonas and the Frail” is a “bodyguard loses his teenage charge, chaos ensues” tale with a killer reveal and ending; “Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright” is a revenge tale writ large; “My Husband’s Wife” is a riff on “disaffected corporate wife has affair” type stories. But they all take surprising turns, and each protagonist faces challenges that reveal something about where they came from or who they really are.

Ardai is also not above twisting his genres. “The Deadly Embrace,” one of my favorites in the collection, is a neat bit of super-hero noir that takes the real-world fierce competition between comics publishers in the 1950s (think the famous DC vs. Fawcett lawsuit over the original Captain Marvel) and combines it with a twist on the Hollywood Studio System in a world where super-heroes are real but under contract to the comics companies, which some of them find stifling. “Don’t Be Cruel” plays with conspiracy theories (particularly around Elvis’s supposed survival) in a noir light. “The Day After Tomorrow” is another tale that is not really noir at all, but more horror.

The collection ends with another decidedly non-noir tale, the mystery “The Investigation of Things.” If any story in the book can be called “Sherlockian,” it is this one. Two brothers in 11th century China, both detectives with decidedly different investigatory styles, are called to solve the murder of a Buddhist monk and stumble upon the invention of something we are all too familiar with as a weapon of murder in our modern era. There are twists upon twists, with one brother looking at minute and seemingly unimportant minute details while the other systematically interviews reluctant peers of the deceased (said brother even utters a variation on Detective Columbo’s famous “oh, just one more question” line, which brought a smile to this reader’s face).

If you love short stories in the mystery/crime genre that are more than just a recitation of the facts of the case or the reveal of the mystery, stories that explore the breadth of human interactions and passions, then Charles Ardai is your man, and Death Comes Too Late is your next must-read short story collection.

I received an 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.

Those interested can find my review of From Sea to Stormy Sea, where Charles Ardai’s story “Mother of Pearl” first appeared, HERE.

Series Saturday: CHEFS OF THE FIVE GODS

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

cover designs by Philip Pascuzzo

Chefs of the Five Gods duology

Written by Beth Cato

published by 47 North (2023 – 2024)

Titles:

·       A Thousand Recipes for Revenge (2023)

·       A Feast for Starving Stone (2024)

“Chefs of the Five Gods,” Beth Cato’s recent fantasy duology, features intriguing world-building, complicated characters, and strong commentary on how something being a cultural norm or tradition doesn’t necessarily mean it’s morally correct.

The world itself is politically and geographically based on Western Europe in the pre-Colonial period. At the start of book one, A Thousand Recipes for Revenge, Solenn, a princess of Braiz (essentially coastal northern France as its own country) has been promised in marriage to a prince of Verdania (the larger, more landlocked portion of France). Thanks to recent events (including the virtual destruction of Braiz’s once powerful navy), Verdania is a more politically and militarily powerful nation than Braiz. Braiz needs the ally, given its geographic position between Verdania and the equally powerful and antagonistic island nation of Albion, a constant threat. Accompanied to Verdania’s capitol city by only a small handful of musketeers led by her father’s closest friend and her mentor, Erwan Corre, Solenn must navigate the politics of a foreign nation and the burgeoning of a power she didn’t know she had: she’s a Chef.

In this world, ingredients called epicurea, derived from certain animals and plants, hold magic. Foods cooked with epicurea do everything from enhancing stamina and erasing wrinkles to making voices louder and more sonorous … and being used as sometimes-undetectable poisons. People who can empathically sense epicurea are called Chefs, and in Verdania and Albion they are conscripted into service of the government. Especially empathetic Chefs can even sense the aromas and flavors of ordinary ingredients and can perfectly pair epicurean and non-epicurean ingredients to create unforgettable meals. Ada Garland is a rogue Chef, on the run from service to Verdania’s ruthless king and separated from the love of her life, a Braizian musketeer named Erwan Corre. When Ada is attacked by employees of a man she sent to prison many years earlier, she is put on a path that will inevitably lead her to the daughter she sent away with Erwan for safety’s sake: Solenn.

The combination of a volatile political situation and a magic that only certain people can wield is a potent one. Throw in two strong female leads and a diverse supporting cast, all with their own secrets, and you have a fast-moving, often surprising pair of books that I highly recommend.

Solenn has no idea that Erwan and Ada are her parents, so learning she’s a Chef (as she senses poison in a meal being served to her soon-to-be husband) is a shock that leads to the reveal of her parentage. These early scenes with Solenn establish who she is so clearly: strong-willed, intelligent, but still afraid of being alone once she’s married in a court of enemies. She is not happy about being a political tool, but she loves her country too much to shirk what she perceives as her duty. Learning that she is in fact not the child of the parents who raised her, learning that she is in fact “gifted” with a talent she’s only seen others possess, learning that there’s a plot to kill her betrothed … all of this turns her world upside down, but doesn’t deter her from doing what she knows is the right thing.

Solenn’s scenes alternate with Ada’s which almost from the start are more action-packed (arrests, chases, and attacks) but are equally informative about who Ada is: strong-willed, intelligent, well-trained in sword and gun and hand-to-hand combat, afraid of the toll being on the run has taken on her beloved grandmother, also a rogue Chef. She loves the ability she possesses, hates having to create less-than-perfect meals to serve customers at the Inn where she works so that no one will suspect she’s a rogue Chef. She is devoted to her grandmother, to the friends she served with, to the memory of her marriage to Erwan Corre, annulled by edict of Verdania’s king (which forced her to send her infant daughter away). Both women would do anything, risk anything, for the people they love – and throughout the duology they do just that.

Mother and Daughter’s paths slowly converge over the course of the first book, as the true magical origins of epicurea add another layer of intrigue and several of the Five Gods become personally involved in the events. A Thousand Recipes for Revenge wraps up its major plot points before the book’s denouement, but not everyone emerges completely unscathed … and everything escalates in book two, A Feast for Starving Stone. Albionish machinations in book one lead to outright war in book two as Solenn finds herself in a new role, creating an alliance between Braiz and the previously unknown magical world to save Braiz from being overwhelmed by larger and more powerful enemies attacking from both sides.

A large portion of A Thousand Recipes for Revenge is devoted to the political intrigues surrounding Solenn and the revelations of why Ada went rogue (and how that reason is coming back to threaten her), making the book a delightful slow boil of alternating viewpoints, keeping the reader wondering how and when Ada’s and Solenn’s stories will converge. The reveal of the mother-daughter connection comes early, which enabled me to enjoy picking out how similar, and how different, the two women are without too much time spent on wondering why they are so similar. (I should admit here that I received a print ARC of the book and because I’m such a Beth Cato fan, I dove right in without reading the back cover copy, where the relationship is revealed in the first paragraph.) As noted above, they are both strong women who love their families and would do anything to protect the people they love – even if that means facing fatal danger. But where Solenn also loved her country, Ada is jaded and embittered against hers (for good reason), and this difference in political fealty affects the decisions each makes, which in turn propels the narrative. I hope you can tell how much I love, and feel for, both characters.

I also really enjoyed the supporting cast. Not just Erwan Corre, who is a wonderfully relaxed yet dangerous man, but also the sweet but mysterious Aveyron Silvacane and his father Brillat; Ada’s beloved Grand-Mere, suffering from dementia; Ada’s friend and former fellow soldier Emone and her wife Claudette; and others I loath to identify in fear of spoiling some major plot twists/reveals.

While Thousand Recipes focuses very much on behind-the-scenes political machinations and spycraft before moving into a deadly battle, A Feast for Starving Stone’s opening chapter makes it clear that war is no longer imminent, it is here – and Braiz is caught in a pincer between Albion and Verdania. Solenn and Ada again find themselves on separate quests to protect the people they love, again at great personal peril, and again caught up in the games several of the Five Gods seem to be playing with humanity and with each other. Starving Stone is a much faster paced, blatantly action filled than Thousand Recipes, which puts the books in interesting counterpoint to each other, just as Solenn and Ada counterpoint but complement each other. There is much more bloodshed in Starving Stone but there is also emotional healing and bonding. The book has a lot to say about how we heal from trauma, and how we sometimes come to forgiveness and understanding for those who have harmed us. (Solenn in particular has a painfully beautiful arc regarding this.)

Throughout both books, it is clear that all of these countries regard epicurea as a tool, drawn from animals who are not as important as the humans in control of the world. Many of these animals are hunted to near extinction or bred in horrible circumstances, the plants overharvested. While I am not a vegetarian or vegan, I recognize the parallels between the epicurea of Cato’s world and the hunting, cruel breeding/raising, and overharvesting that happens in our own. As mentioned earlier, Cato makes a persuasive case that just because something is an ingrained cultural institution doesn’t mean it is the morally correct or empathetic thing to do. But we’ve all seen in our own world how hard it is to get people to change from “the way it’s always been” to “a way that is more caring,” and the characters in this duology struggle with what will be a massive cultural shift.

“Chefs of the Five Gods” is currently billed as a duology, and the second book ends on a satisfying note with all the major plotlines tied up, but I really hope Cato will return to this world. It feels like there’s still plenty to explore both in where the characters will go (I totally ship Solenn and Aveyron, by the way. If I wrote fanfiction…) and in the shifts in politics and culture that the reveal of the truth about epicurea should bring about. Still, for now the story is done and I cannot recommend highly enough that fantasy fans seek out A Thousand Recipes for Revenge and A Feast for Starving Stone.

I’ve also featured Beth Cato’s Blood of Earth trilogy on Series Saturday. You can find that post HERE. And I’ve reviewed several of her short stories. Those reviews can be found HERE.