Farrago’s Wainscot, Part 7: Echoes

Farrago’s Wainscot offers six loosely themed stories, told in a variety of literary styles, of which two are very weird and left me with questions.

“An Apotheosis” by Forrest Aguirre gives voice to Laurence, a grief-stricken warrior disciple of Rocco Bonetti. Laurence recounts the murder of his maestro during an unfair duel with the two fiends, Silver and Cheese. When his maestro’s ghost appears to Laurence and tells him he drank too much and that he is unwell, he takes it as Satan’s deceit and sets out to find Silver and Cheese to exact revenge. Aguirre has a beautiful prose style, replete with literary devices and religious overtones. With only a slight fantastical element, I found this akin to a biblical tale of good and evil. Although the plot is straightforward, the author delivers a twist at the end. The sheer beauty of the prose makes this story worth reading.

“Annabel on the Eighteenth Floor” by C. L. Brussel starts with Groz’s dream about Annabel’s suicide, a teenager high on dust. In New York City, people Transform into translucent beings, a desired state by some and dreaded by others. Some people are Hollowed Out, like Groz’s Pops. Yet others remain the same and have Sight. The story shows the lives of various teenagers under psychiatric care, on drugs, or in the throes of transformation. Groz and his Crew did not transform or hollow out, but it is difficult to keep track of the slew of characters populating this story: Yanna, Alex, Alison, and Dave make quick appearances, while Lena, Red, Jessica, Dougie, and Mike are mentioned. I found the close bond Groz shares with his Pops moving. It’s possible that Brussel intends to show the class distinction between the Shining, people that Transformed, and the Hollowed Out, but this story is too disjointed and filled with slash-horror for my enjoyment.

“Stuck” by Jason Erik Lundberg is a poignant tale about Peter Fierte, a college teacher and fiction writer stuck in an elevator with Mira, a beautiful Indian woman on her way to an interview to fill an adjunct position. When Mira whips out a copy of his first novel and asks him to autograph it for her, he uses the pen Darja, his wife of fourteen years, has given him. Mira’s perfume of Jasmine and Lilac, like Darja’s, should have been a warning, especially when Mira says, “I’m not wearing any perfume,” but Peter’s ego and lust overcome his common sense. Stuck in a situation not of his doing, stuck in a marriage that has gone flat, Peter gives in to Mira’s sexual advances.

“Stuck” raises issues regarding responsibility for one’s actions. It left me pondering whether a man, any man, stuck in a marriage and placed in this kind of situation, is able to overcome sexual temptation alone, much less able to when sexual temptation is combined with ego boosting overtures. Without spoiling the dénouement, which I didn’t care for, it nevertheless made me wonder what Lundberg intended. Although the story is well-written and thought provoking, it would have been much better with a different ending. Still, I recommend it.

Marc Schuster’s “Rhapsody in Transverse Vibration” delves into the life of Andrew Salzmann, aka Salt, who is a driving instructor claiming that noise pollution is tearing apart the firmament, and evil forces from the universe are seeping into our lives. Salt lacks the education in physics and mathematics to convince others of this danger, and, after several warnings from his superiors, he loses his job. Faced with unpaid bills, a demanding wife, and his daughter in college, Salt promises his wife that he will seek psychiatric help again. But on his way to the psychiatrist, he decides to visit his daughter, Hannah, at the university.

I appreciated the sound scientific underpinning of vibration and sound (no pun intended) in this story, but what made it memorable was the human element. When Hannah tells Salt that she is pregnant, he decides to make the sacrifice for her, for his unborn grandson, and for Humanity to keep drumming to produce a “Transverse Vibration,” which will keep the atmosphere intact. Whether Salt is a saint or a fool, I’ll let readers decide, but this story works on several levels and touched me deeply. I’m glad Schuster explores this very real concern of sound pollution, an environmental issue that is largely ignored by the scientific community. “Rhapsody in Transverse Vibration” is by far my favorite in this issue.

“The Red Door” by Erik Secker takes on the surreal with a disembodied brain and a red door. Told from the viewpoint of Charlie, who one day finds a door in his apartment, there are snatches of global issues shown on television and Charlie’s thoughts on additives in food, but the story fails to resolve any of the issues it introduces. I couldn’t find myself caring about Charlie’s musings.

“Nadya” by Zdravka Evtimova is a haunting tale set on planet Number 111 and its ever-changing landscapes of shifting mountains and sentient ocean—a playground for wealthy clients. There is no pain during Leisure, and Perna turns into a healing plateau for injuries caused to regulars by the clients. Nadya is one of the regulars who has been through Leisure several times, injured, healed by Perna, and collected by the Collector—who is greedy, immune to Leisure, and in love with her. Both are in it for the money, but Nadia dreams of a day when she has enough to buy planet Number 111 so she can blow it up. Though painless, her toes and ear, subsumed by the ocean, cannot be regenerated. This water then is used for transferring emotions and sexual pleasures to the clients. The emotive, emotion-hungry ocean is reminiscent of the Pattern Jugglers in Alastair Reynolds’s Revelation Space, Chasm City, and Absolution Gap. While based on a fascinating concept, I didn’t care for the central theme of female exploitation; a simple role reversal of Nadya and the Collector would have made this story more interesting.