"A Guide to the Zoo" by Stepan Chapman
"The Beautiful Gelreesh" by Jeffrey Ford
"The Toes of the Sun" by Rhys Hughes
"My Stark Lady" by D. F. Lewis
"Python" by Ursula Pflug
"Maldoror Abroad" by K. J. Bishop
"Free Time" by James Sallis
"The Scream" by Michael Cisco
"Dr. Black in Rome" by Brendan Connell
"Lights" by D. F. Lewis
"Mortal Love" by Elizabeth Hand
"A Dream of the Dead" by Steve Rasnic Tem
"A Hero for the Dark Towns" by Jay Lake
"The Catgirl Manifesto: An Introduction" by Christina Flook
"Eternal Horizon" by Rhys Hughes (mislabeled "Eternal Sunset" in the TOC)
Album Zutique #1
Edited by Jeff VanderMeer
Ministry of Whimsy Press/Nightshade Books
May, 2003, $12.99
Jeff VanderMeer labels his latest project as "a general anthology of modern Surrealist and Decadent short fiction" and cites influences like Rimbaud and Verlaine. Although the words "science fiction" and "fantasy" are pointedly absent from VanderMeer's description, the surreal and grotesque are species of the fantastic, and several of the stories (most notably the Hughes pieces) owe a debt to magical realism. The Hand story is a novel excerpt and will not be reviewed here. Album Zutique demonstrates excellent production values. The cover blurb describes it as a "pocket book," and it is indeed nicely shaped to fit in a back pocket. The cover art and interior production, barring one flub in the TOC, are outstanding.
Self-consciously invoking a genre substyle creates a potential minefield. The original Surrealist and Decadent movements were creatures of England and France at the close of the nineteenth century. Attempting to invoke them a hundred years later suggests three possibilities. The first is homage, either genuine or executed with varying degrees of irony. The second is the creation of something truly new, which draws inspiration from its forebears but does not ape them. The third is disaster – smug, self-aware writing full of pretension. (As Emerson once noted, "Shakespeare is not to be made by imitating Shakespeare.") All three can be found in Album Zutique,. Like the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead, when it's good it's very very good, but when it's bad…well, you know.
"A Guide to the Zoo" by Stepan Chapman kicks off the collection. Chapman presents a series of exhibits of an imaginary zoo, all of which are linked to writers and artists with a fantastic edge. Most of these creators, like Roald Dahl and David Cronenburg, have a dark aspect. The individual vignettes are like pieces of popcorn, tasty but not particularly filling.
In a recurrent theme of the anthology, Jeffrey Ford borrows fairy-tale motifs for "The Beautiful Gelreesh," about a creature that uses pity to lure victims to their doom. Ford's story comments on the way such tales transmute over time. "Python" by Ursula Pflug is a love story with surrealist trappings, as a young woman named Faith journeys to New Orleans and into a number of Jungian archetypes (the python, the wolf). The surreal elements add flavor to a fairly traditional story of love and loss. James Sallis invokes the vignette/collage technique in "Free Time," a series of dark glimpses into a mind succumbing to insanity. The narrator's suicidal obsessions give the story a focus that the other surreal pieces in the anthology often lack. "Dr. Black in Rome" places Brendan Connell's recurring protagonist, the learned dwarf of the title, in a farcical situation. In this comedy of wit and manners, involving academics trying to outdo each other and their cuckolded host, Connell offers up a warped image of the Algonquin Round Table. Steve Rasnic Tem's "A Dream of the Dead" offers a brief meditation on the dead passing through the world of the living, in a sort of tone poem.
Several missteps mar the collection. The protagonist of "My Stark Lady" by D. F. Lewis remarks "I've often enjoyed reading atmospheric ghost stories or any fiction with an atmosphere you can cut with a knife," and that's a fair description of this particular piece. Unfortunately, it's nothing but atmosphere. The story has superficial echoes of Kafka, but it lacks the complexity that makes Kafka worth reading. Lewis' other story, "Lights," suffers from the same problem. With nods to H. P. Lovecraft and Ishmael Reed, "Maldoror Abroad" by K. J. Bishop employs decadent and purple prose to no particular end. While rich in pretty words, as an oversaturated photo is rich in pretty colors, it lacks substance. The anthology reaches its nadir in "The Catgirl Manifesto: An Introduction" by Christina Flook. It bears the subtitle "for Richard Calder," and it's a pseudo-academic riff on the world Calder crafted in Dead Girls and its sequels. The story is flaccid, self-indulgent, and far too pleased with its own cleverness.
Fortunately, a few strong stories highlight the anthology. "The Scream" by Michael Cisco is a meditation on that very phenomenon. What would be the ideal scream – what would it sound like, and who would voice it? By refusing to take itself too seriously, this piece succeeds where others in the collection fail. Cisco's sardonic little dig at the end, concerning how such a horror story usually resolves, is amusing rather than irritating. Rhys Hughes contributes two magical realism stories with the subtitle "Strange Sunsets," and they're the strongest pair in the volume. In "The Toes of the Sun," Don Entrerrosca applauds a particularly beautiful sunset and is startled to see the sun rise from the horizon and set again, in a sort of encore. He finds sunset the next night less pleasing, and when he jeers it the sun responds by refusing to rise at all. The only way to restore the light of day is for him to make the most beautiful woman in the world smile, so he sets off on that task. The story is light-hearted and entertaining. Hughes' "Eternal Horizon" is a similar lark. Luis Rodrigues, the protagonist, confidently informs the reader that "All my girlfriends have been goddesses," and he's speaking the literal truth. His current lover, the sea-goddess Reshmi, entangles him in an adventure filled with doting worshippers, fierce Central Asian nomads, and the misplaced Martian horizon. Once again, Hughes' light touch carries the day. With echoes of Poe, Lovecraft, and Clive Barker, "A Hero for the Dark Towns" by Jay Lake tells the story of a man who visits one of the hidden places of the earth, a twisted and decadent echo of traditional paradises like Shangri-La. It's creepy, well-focused, and effective.
The future of Album Zutique is unclear. VanderMeer indicates that future issues could be far-ranging; single-artist collections, short novels, and nonfictional essays are all mentioned for potential future volumes. Perhaps after three or four volumes come out, one might have a clearer sense of VanderMeer's overall goals. VanderMeer himself is the strongest argument for future success. Obviously he understands the taste of his market (e.g. the Leviathan anthologies), but the small size of that market might not support this project. One other problem is that placing restrictions like "surreal" or "decadent" around an anthology leads to poorer-quality material. For some reason, the "hit rate" of theme anthologies in the genre runs lower than that of general anthologies. In a general anthology, the editor is in a strong position of focusing on purely the best work. In a theme anthology, the editor has to accept the best work that fulfills the criteria – which may not mesh with the individual strengths of particular writers. As noted earlier, theme anthologies walk a fine line between success and self-indulgence. Hopefully VanderMeer's editorial vision will guide him to more consistent material in future numbers of Album Zutique.