Weird Tales #347

Issue #347 is the first issue of Weird Tales from fiction editor Ann VanderMeer, who prior to joining the Weird Tales masthead had already established a reputation in the industry for editing fantasy and the weird. Given that Weird Tales also has a bit of a track record in the fantasy and weird departments, it remains to be seen what (or whether) she will introduce with regard to changes in the fiction’s direction.

The first story, “The Messenger,” is by former fiction editor [and current contributing editor] Darrell Schweitzer, which certainly demonstrates continuity between the past and present administrations. In it, A nameless messenger approaches a city with a deep and desolate history. The fog of war hangs over everything, and the messenger is unsure of his message but knows it must be delivered to the Emperor.

Evocative of high fantasy but almost a mood piece in execution—despite its wistful quest plot—the upshot of its dreamlike presentation is that there’s little that lingers in the reader’s memory afterwards.

Erik Amundsen’s “Bufo Rex” is a first person narrative of the eponymous toad. Another high fantasy—albeit one with a more medieval cast to it than Schweitzer’s tale—Bufo is buffeted between kingdoms, illuminating aspects of myth and the foolishness and cruelty of humanity as he does so. Is there a jewel hidden in the skull of toads? Is he a witch’s familiar? Not all the people (or nations) he encounters are capricious, but the gentler people do tend to suffer in this world. Can Bufo (also the personification of all toads) do anything to redress the wrongs? He certainly seems to care, although his story is constantly reset to a new beginning. Amundsen’s prose is a delight, and it came almost as a surprise to me to realise that a plot was being woven while I was dazzled with poetic resonance.

“Figure 5″ by M. Thomas and Paul G. Tremblay is set in a modern era, although this only becomes apparent gradually as the story progresses. The city is unnamed, but it possesses a ministry that is more Kafkaesque than Orwellian as it attempts to control the plague ravishing the city’s inhabitants. Anderbine is an artist/scientist studying the plague. He has sketched one of the victims, a prostitute called Midria, as she progresses through the different phases of the disease—which always ends in death. Anderbine, although he may not admit it to himself, has fallen in love with her. They discuss fleeing the city together, although they both realise it would be pointless; they are frozen at a moment in time, with Midria seemingly stuck in the disease’s penultimate phase. Their stoic behaviour is a reflection of that of the other inhabitants of the city; if there’s nothing that can be done, why not pretend that nothing has changed? Such an attitude in this setting begs for comparison with Albert Camus’s The Plague, although “Figure 5″ doesn’t share The Plague’s allegorical nature. Nevertheless, this story is still a fascinating look at a baroque society under extreme pressure.

“Catch” by Amanda Downum tells of an angel working as a trapeze artist in contemporary Los Angeles. Her stage name is Soleil, and her mortal lover is, unsurprisingly, Luna. Luna started out her life as a man before transgender surgery, which does lead to some early narrative confusion, and is now dying of cancer, causing Soleil to seek out another of the area’s supernatural beings—also slumming amongst the mortals—for help, a sassy, streetwise tattoo artist who just happens to be the Blue Fairy. A former lover with a less charitable view of mortals shows up, symbolised by her name, Hunter, and various circus people, including a real fortuneteller, all have their parts to play. “Catch” is the sort of story that one would normally expect vampires to be in, playing the supernatural roles, and it feels as though it is self-consciously trying to be different. It doesn’t entirely succeed.

There’s another fortuneteller with a pack of cards in Jonathon Wood’s “The Blank Card.” Despite being one of the recent flurry of uncanny pirate tales, it’s a much more original effort than many of its trope-mates. The main character is a priest, inviting comparison to Gene Wolfe’s recent Pirate Freedom, who tries to bring God to the Freeport of Port Royal. A tarot card prefaces each chapter, and the whole thing loops, Möbius strip-like—appropriately enough for a priest named “Father Mobius.” He arrives full of hope but, as the years progress, is broken by his failures. There is also the realisation that corruption is endemic to the Church, as he gets hints that his mentor was as debased as the pirates. The fortuneteller shows him the horrors that will destroy the sinners. But if there is no chance for redemption, how can the Church offer hope to the people?

Wood is too crafty a writer to spell everything out, and he’s managed to deliver an excellent story using a now-familiar shorthand structure. Who would have thought that a theme park ride would create a sub-genre?

“The Yankee at the Sitting-Up” deals with part of a funeral service in the superstition-soaked Deep South. Clayton Kroh tells this tale from the deceased’s point of view, and, narrator notwithstanding, there’s nothing here that could be conclusively pointed to as supernatural. It’s certainly weird, though. As people come to view the body, the protagonist is intrigued by their reactions. He sees little that the living cannot but now is able to put things together a little better. When alive, he’d been having an affair, and the other mourners start to deduce this by the overwrought reaction of his lover. He realises, though, that he is not the only one who has been playing away from home. That’s more-or-less it. It’s a short, slight story, but Kroh writes with a convincing voice.

Scott H. Andrews sets his high fantasy tale, “Excision,” in the middle of a war where the forces of good are suffering heavy casualties. Vivomancers patch up the injured with grafts from animals—whole limbs, frequently—before sending them back to the battlefield. Medi and her mentor, Giazla, are searching for a way to purge the infection that the enemy gives to the wounded. Vivomancers are skilled at extracting necrotia from the wounded and sick, but their powers are limited. Medi and Giazla try to develop new methods in the laboratory to fight it, using animals as subjects, but their successes, when they come, are small and limited.

“Excision” is a deliberately grotesque story that asks reader to take the characters on their own terms while simultaneously evoking the horror of their situation—a have-your-cake-and-eating-it-too setup. The parallels with medical experimentation and vivisection in our own world are obvious, but fortunately, it’s not necessary to have an opinion one way or another on the subject in order to identify with Medi.

Much of Michael Boatman’s “A Father’s Work” will be familiar to anyone who’s seen 28 Days Later, right down to the red eyes of the infected. Here, a family has moved to a rural township when disease erupts, seemingly the fault of flying saucer aliens who attach themselves to people’s backs and suck out their life force. In this case, it’s only children and adolescents who turn into savages, but that’s hardly the most original horror idea either. The prose is lazy as well. For example, when, during a horrifying event, the father refers to his wife as “the mother of my children,” it’s an obvious attempt to get the reader to do the hard work of imparting emotion into the story. “A Father’s Work” reads like a plot treatment for a straight-to-DVD low budget movie and is one of the few failures in this issue.

Overall, despite a few wobbles, neither VanderMeer nor Weird Tales fans will be disappointed with her first issue. It promises to be an interesting journey.