Clarkesworld Magazine #14, Nov. 2007

In the fourteen months since its inception, Clarkesworld Magazine has established and maintained a reputation as a publisher of high-quality genre fiction. In part, this is possible because the magazine only publishes two stories in each issue. The first, selected by editor Sean Wallace, is solicited from established authors with at least one published book. The second, selected by editor Nick Mamatas, is drawn from a slushpile of typically lesser-known authors and hopefuls.

This month, the first piece, “Summer in Paris, Light from the Sky,” is provided by Ken Scholes. It’s an alternate history piece, most significantly (for the purposes of the tale) hinging on a young Adolf Hitler’s father suffering a life-threatening accident and subsequently experiencing an epiphany. He became a warmer, kinder man, encouraging his son’s ambitions and dreams and ultimately leaving a small inheritance to support Adolf’s artistic career.

The outset of the story finds Adolf in Paris in June, 1941; in his first day, he is left with two impressions. One is of a girl, who appears from a crowd to kiss him and then is gone. The second is an encounter with Ernest Hemingway, here not a writer but still a bellicose and fiery personality with a penchant for waving a pistol in the air. Hemingway is one of a few unexpected characters who come to play a significant part in Adolf’s life.

The story begins with a bittersweet tone: Hitler’s belief in his future as a painter has begun to fray, and his body and soul have begun to feel the weight of his years. It is not long, however, before we see beyond the personal stories of Adolf and his new companions, and begin to see the bigger picture. France still maintains a powerful empire under an elderly Napoleon IV, and Jewish refugees are flocking to France, fleeing a Russian Civil War. The details are sparse, with much left to the imagination. We learn only what Adolf learns, and it is clear that in this world, he has little interest in politics. Soon enough, however, he is brought face to face with a hard decision, and it is his choice that determines what the world will become.

“Summer in Paris, Light in the Sky” is a beautiful and moving story, powerfully and skillfully told. Although some of the historical events alluded to may occasionally seem questionable, it is a deliberate conceit that much of this alternate reality’s past is shrouded, which is an effective way of evading any such questions. When these concerns are put to one side, this story can be read as the collision that it is—of the personal and the political, filled with hope, courage, and love.

The second story, “Acid and Stoned Reindeer” by Rebecca Ore, is a significantly stranger story than its companion, concerning a time-hopping young man and significant amounts of drug use. The story begins with the protagonist and a band of fellow teens hunting mammoths—a process akin “to following a herd of Buicks”—and quickly hops to “centuries later,” to a party in 1970s New York where the punch is spiked with acid. The protagonist has traveled here in order to see “how some people I’d met in 2001 had gotten that way.”

The story is difficult to pin down; it segues fluidly between these two locations and times, also referencing others, and multiple interpretations are possible. The entire experience of one time and place could be a result of the trips in another—although the language and similes used in the prehistoric narration could either deny the possibility of that time and place as the source or affirm the primary narrative, that the protagonist really can travel through time or be in several times at once.

It doesn’t really matter which interpretation, if any, you choose; “Acid and Stoned Reindeer” is a fun and witty tale, populated with very believable characters. There are meditations on memory, perception, the passage of time, and homosexuality. A conversation with the eponymous reindeer is, in particular, simultaneously comedic and elegiac. The tale is about these moments and discussions rather than a traditional linear narrative.

If my summary of “Acid and Stoned Reindeer” appears somewhat hazy and confused, that’s because it is; I don’t believe Ore intended for the reader to take any one particular thing from this story. But I can state with confidence that the tale is convincing and enjoyable, thanks to a very human approach to the times, places, and people it portrays.

Clarkesworld Magazine has, in recent months, also begun to provide nonfiction alongside its stories. In this issue, Jeff VanderMeer provides a thought-provoking piece in “The Language of Defeat.” He discusses the false oppositional conflict of “mainstream” and “genre” writing, a storm which recently (once again) rocked the expansive teacup of the SF blogosphere. Rather than attempt to engage with what he sees as a false dichotomy, he instead tries to identify why the argument is not only invalid but restrictive to both the reader and the writer. Rather than build barriers by adopting the voice of victimhood, he argues, writers and readers should strive for a more expansive and inclusive attitude towards fiction. To this end, he also provides crossover reading lists for “mainstream” and “genre” readers.

This piece is followed by an interview with Australian author Sean Williams, conducted by Tobias Buckell. Buckell demonstrates a comprehensive and thoughtful understanding of Williams’ oeuvre in his questions, and the interviewee is equally enthusiastic about engaging with them. I have not personally read much of Williams’ fiction, but the interview piqued my interest and that, I believe, is one of the purposes of any good interview.

One final comment must be made about the fifth (or, technically, sixth) contributor to this issue: artist Serj Iulian, who provides an endearing painting for the cover.

Clarkesworld Magazine continues to demonstrate that its reputation is well-deserved; there’s not a duff piece present in this issue.