[On May 10, 2021 Strange Horizons officially expressed its political support for Palestinian solidarity. The views of Tangent Online reviewers are not necessarily those of Strange Horizons. Fiction critiqued at Tangent Online is, as much as is humanly possible, without prejudice and based solely on artistic merit.]
Strange Horizons, July 13, 2026
“Guillotine” by Max Franciscovich
Reviewed by Philip Hutson
“Guillotine” is a character-driven science fiction story of the protagonist, Sydney, unstuck in time. While the description begs comparisons with Slaughterhouse-5, the only thing it has in common is the idea of a person jumping around in time or, as the “Guillotine” narrator describes it: “It’s not time travel, per se. Closer to time drift, a record-scratch skip to the life you might have had in Georgian England or Early Byzantium.” A better comparison would be to the original Quantum Leap, where the protagonist, Sam, jumps into the body of another person.
The story explores Sydney’s mental state, suicidal ideation, and her general struggle with life in the different timelines. Here Sydney talks about the attraction to death via a guillotine: “you wonder what it feels like to kneel on that platform. Terrifying, you guess, but there must be some sense of finality, fulfillment.”
Sydney’s primary timeline is a modern-day college campus where they (she has decided her pronouns are they/them) is struggling to find any purpose in life. The story spends most of the narrative on her depression, lack of will to live, lack of motivation, and absence of joy. The jumps to the past and future are a continuation of the theme of depression. The description of Sydney’s life in 1790 France, which seems to be the author’s, Max Franciscovich, favorite, is “Based on the bedroom debris, Citizen Archer drinks more than they eat.” Citizen Archer is the name of the Sydney in 1790 France.
The different temporal settings that Sydney jumps to are all into the bodies of different versions of Sydney. The different time frames all have a version of the roommate, Mary-Caine, always connected to that time frame’s Sydney in some manner. In each of the scenarios, the Sydneys’ mental states are similar to the primary Sydney; the author shows that by describing the actions of the Sydney in the time frame with things like chest binding: “You check your chest, surreptitiously (bound, not gone—how cruel this mortal coil!).”
While the primary time frame has a number of sex scenes (some explicit) between Sydney and Mary-Caine, there are none between the other Sydneys and the other Mary-Caines. It seems that while the Sydneys and Mary-Caines still have the same sexual preference, they have not followed their desires.
The first hint at the ending of the story is given with a statement describing a scar that appears on Sydney’s throat with no cause: “It was a perfect garroted red line. It looked five years faded.” The story continues until all of the different time frame versions of Sydney are killed off. The first one is shown with: “The first time you die, it’s unexpected. Also, it’s Seattle Sydney’s fault.” The other deaths in the different time frames are a mix of purposeful suicide, and poor decisions, except for an unwritten death by guillotine in the 1790 France time period. In that time Sydney tries to act on sexual desires and is rejected: “You catch his hand and plunge it down your shirt. Shock lights his face first, then open horror.” Shortly later, close to the end, there is a scene where the Mary-Caine of that time frame eliminates Sydney: “You do not recognize most of the men who break down your door. You recognize the one in red.” … “Citizen Archer,” he says, “you have been accused of plotting against the Republic. Can you prove those accusations false?” The death scenes are not graphic except for the last one, which is a bit of an autassassinophilia scene.
While it is a character-driven story, it is not a story of growth but a story of the conclusion of a life. Where you would expect a character-driven story to show a character finding purpose or getting better, this story just shows the spiral down to an end, interspersed with scenes of intimate encounters. Most of the sex scenes do add to the narrative by illuminating the mental state of Sydney; they are more graphic than strictly necessary. Here, for example: “Even in a time when no one carries a rapier, you would gladly die on the point of her blade.” It clearly shows the mixture of homosexuality, phallic fixation, and autoassassinophilia without delving into an explicit sex scene.
I am sure there are deeper meanings within the story, but being a bit dense, I did not see anything beyond an exploration of nihilism.
Philip Hutson’s ramblings and poor attempts at storytelling can be seen at https://tr8t.com