Subterranean #7

Ellen Datlow guest edited issue #7 of Subterranean, so I was eager to check it out. Ms. Datlow is capable of cobbling together a magazine full of stories that can appeal to a variety of readers, as this issue proves. But, in the opinion of this reviewer, the stories varied widely in quality and execution, although issue #7, overall, is a good one.

“Old Mr. Boudreaux” by Lisa Tuttle is a heartwarming, character-centric tale about a woman who inherits a house from her dying mother with a condition: she must take up her mother’s duty of taking care of Mr. Boudreaux. As the story progresses, we learn much about the situation in general, as well as the familial relationship, and of how Mr. Boudreaux’s presence affected them. But alas, you don’t meet Mr. Boudreaux until the end for the “big reveal,” and the majority of the tale (the “action”) involves the unnamed viewpoint character wandering around, reminiscing. Consequently, we have a literary story with some fantasy dress-up with a Where’s Ishmael.

And yet, I enjoyed it. There is a purpose to all the backstory that connects to the ending (even if the “big reveal” still felt a little tacked on), and I managed to feel for the unnamed character. Not the best story I’ve ever read, but not the worst either. Tuttle’s writing skill is excellent; she draws you into the tale and keeps you in it from beginning to end. If you’re into character-based stories, you’ll enjoy “Old Mr. Boudreaux”—despite its flaws.

“The King of the Big Night Hours” by Rick Bowes starts off well and keeps you interested, but then disappoints with its ending. We also have another Where’s Ishmael, and whether or not it qualifies as speculative fiction is up for debate. Yes, there’s a ghost. Or is there? That’s left open for the reader to decide. It could qualify as soft science fiction, given all the psychological aspects, but that too can be chalked up to good characterization. If there’s a speculative element, it’s well hidden within the overall context, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

It has, however, themes in abundance—perhaps too many. Suicide seems to be a reoccurring theme, but apparently it has more to do with the library’s floor pattern than anything else. Homosexuality also seems to be a reoccurring theme, but it appears to have more to do with characterization than something involving a message.

There’s also the problem of the unnamed character who does little more than wander around, observing the bizarre events, and essentially mopes and broods when he’s not comforting traumatized witnesses. The only character that comes close to doing anything is the ghost of the King of the Big Night Hours—who used to be a security guard. But we’re never told if there really is a ghost or whether the viewpoint character is just pronouncing coincidences and basic psychological reactions as some kind of haunting. Inquiring mind want to know: Is there a ghost or isn’t there?

“Under the Bottom of the Lake” by Jeffrey Ford would’ve been much better if it had been told differently. There’s so much switching between past tense and present tense and so many scene cuts that I got lost while reading. An excess of unnecessary verbosity compound the problem, which required me to reread whole paragraphs. The “high literature” wordplay gave me high school flashbacks which, in my case, is never a good thing. To top it off, the story comes down to two kids finding a secret passage in a graveyard that leads to a magical orb. Which connects to the viewpoint character’s (yes, it’s another Where’s Ishmael) events exactly how? There are a few other things, but I don’t want to give away the surprises.

But, as I was losing hope, along came “City of Night” by Joel Lane and John Pelan. Now this is dark fantasy at its best! Paul’s dreams are invaded by a dark, shadowy mirror-world controlled by alien entities. Eventually, he begins to slip into that world, even while awake. What do these entities want? Can Paul find a way to escape them? Does he want to? Lane and Pelan reveal the setting and plot methodically, pulling you along with sinister atmosphere. The characters are engaging, and their reactions to their bizarre, deadly world are fully believable. Well worth reading more than once.

A nameless character gets haunted by the ghosts of a bunch of dead kids in “Holiday” by M. Rickert. Either this is the fourth Where’s Ishmael in this issue or the name is buried so well I can’t find it. Another character-oriented tale, its slow pace and reluctance to get to the point made it a difficult read. And after finishing it, I’m still not sure what the point was. Maybe there isn’t one. In many ways, it reminded me of something you’d find on the TV series, The Outer Limits. Hmm, maybe that’s the point?

“The Jeweller of Second-Hand Roe” by Anna Tambour required a couple reads to get into, but once I did, I liked it. It had a sense of Poe to it. I’m not sure if that was the author’s intent, but it came out well. While the first person narrator is unnamed, he (or she) isn’t one of the characters taking part in the story and is identified as an anonymous witness. A good read for a dark, suspenseful mystery, I think any lover of Poe’s work would give Tambour kudos for this tale.

“Pirates of the Somali Coast” by Terry Bisson is black comedy run amok. Presented as e-mails sent by a child on a luxury cruise with his aunt and uncle to his parents and a friend, things start normally until the ship gets taken over by pirates. By combining a childlike imagination with Stockhome syndrome (the psychological response of a hostage identifying with his or her captor), Bisson weaves the most disturbing and chilling story in the entire issue—with a nod to Captain Jack Sparrow. Yep. I thought Disney was evil. No doubts now.

“Vacancy” by Lucius Shepard is the best and longest story in Subterranean #7. Usually, present tense doesn’t engage this reader for such a long time, but Shepard manages it. The main character, Cliff Coria—a protagonist in a dark tragedy—is full of everyman faults, and it is these that lead him to his tragic state. Shepard weaves in a morality theme, a common one in horror and suspense mysteries—of which “Vacancy” is a combination—that certainly instills a warning to old horn-dogs like me. And to top it off, the antagonist, Shalin Palaniappan, is not only sympathetic, but in many ways is someone you could root for, if you didn’t care so much for Cliff. Finally, the large cast of minor characters are all fully fleshed out and central to the plot.

While I disliked what happens at the end, I’m sure it was Shepard’s intent; why else create characters so enjoyable if not to make the tragedy that befalls a couple of them more resonant? “Vacancy” scores high in every criterion of what makes a good story. I, for one, will certainly read it many times over the months and perhaps years. Highly recommended.