Strange Horizons, February 2008

A theme of loss seems to run through the February, 2008, stories at Strange Horizons. The first, “Tokyo Rising” by Lynne Hawkinson, matches loss with whimsy. Tokyo has been destroyed multiple times by Godzilla, Mothra, natural disasters, and more, which eventually results in the city planners considering the site cursed and moving the population to a new city out in Tokyo Bay. During one of these destructions, Kai loses his daughter, and he cannot get over her death.

At first, Kai’s loss is described in the same light, amused tone as the city’s repeated downfalls:

The fifth time hurt him. That was when the giant secret government robots went berserk and bombed the schools during the national examinations. Kai lost his young daughter, and he had not yet found a way to replace her.

This changes as the story progresses. Kai is fleshed out, and his loss becomes more real, so that by the time he is met by a group of schoolgirls and thinks of how each one is someone’s daughter, the encounter with one of them has sufficient emotional meaning. Unfortunately, the casual treatment of Tokyo’s previous destructions makes the price Kai pays at the end not nearly as meaningful as Hawkinson perhaps intended. “Tokyo Rising” is an enjoyable read but misses its full potential.

“We Love Deena” by Alice Sola Kim examines a young woman’s loss—of her girlfriend, Deena, who ended their relationship. Incapable of accepting that Deena will never love her again, the narrator learns how to put her mind into the bodies of other people and stalks Deena in the hope that if Deena won’t love her in her body, “then [she’ll] give [Deena] another, and another, and more after that.” Deena realises what is happening, though, and it comes to a confrontation.

The narrator is compellingly written, her frustrations made real and, to an extent, sympathetic. Kim mixes brokenheartedness and obsession with the bizarre; details, such as the narrator finding Deena hot in part because of her job as a state-sanctioned euthanizer, learning how to jump into people’s minds from a letter written by an old friend who was a member of the Cult of Mindy, and her use of Angelina Jolie’s body to try to seduce Deena, give the story a unique feel. (This bizarre flavour is reflected in the artwork by Hellen Jo.) Kim’s skill ensures that the unpleasant qualities help to make the story more interesting, rather than leaving an unpleasant taste in the reader’s mouth.

Daniel J. Pinney’s “Where We Live” is a near-future piece about a man living in the City: the shantytown city established in the remains of the area currently contested between the Israelis and Palestinians. Warfare with dirty bombs and small-grade nuclear missiles has reduced to poverty everyone unable to leave the area.

Pinney’s setting felt utterly convincing to this Western reader; there is a level of detail that makes it real. And the stories of the people are the same. It is not an easy story—Pinney’s future is a grim one, where death can occur at any time—but there is a surprising amount of hope. The scene with the tulips is a wonderful example of how people can shape their lives in the face of where they live, although Pinney does not let the reader forget that a person’s control is always limited. “Where We Live” is well worth a read.

The final story of the month, “Dead” by Haddayr Copley-Woods, is about a different kind of loss: one that is not missed. Almost a year past, Susan finally snapped after suffering abuse from a former partner and shot him. His body, buried in her back garden, has never been found. Now his wife, who he claimed was dead, has sent Susan a letter and demands that it be opened, otherwise, Susan will die.

Susan’s utter lack of regret for killing Jacob might have been chilling, were it not for the way he tormented her:

the small dead birds he’d been leaving on her doorstep, the anonymous hang-up calls in the middle of the night, and the butterfly she’d found stabbed through its thorax with a nail file into her desk at work.

This, after she was forced to take out a restraining order against him. Instead, Susan is a sympathetic character, affected by the abuse, and Copley-Woods conveys this without treading anywhere near overwrought. When the meeting with Jacob’s wife deviates from expectations, the story becomes even stronger. The true nature of Jacob and his wife is never explained, but “Dead” does not suffer because of this; the level of mystery is just right, keeping the emphasis on Susan’s story while giving “Dead” its own flavour. Recommended.