Apex #131, May/June 2022

Apex #131, May/June 2022

“A Monster in the Shape of a Boy” by Hannah Yang

“Shevista” by Koji A. Dae

“Americana!” by Sam Asher

“The Fruit of the Princess Tree” by Sage Tyrtle

“Hoodie” by Tonya Liburd

“In the Monster’s Mouth” by Tim Waggoner

“Simbiyu and the Nameless” by Eugen Bacon (reprint, not reviewed)

“As the Sun Dies” by Jaym Gates (reprint, not reviewed)

Reviewed by Victoria Silverwolf

In addition to half a dozen original works of fiction, this issue offers a pair of reprints, essays, interviews, and reviews.

“A Monster in the Shape of a Boy” by Hannah Yang begins with a child facing a supernatural creature that appears to be identical to himself. His father slays it, and teaches his son to be as ruthless a killer of monsters as himself. The harsh lessons lead to a change in the boy as he grows into a man.

The title of the story offers a strong hint as to the story’s theme and outcome. This brief work serves as a powerful warning against becoming as cruel as one’s enemies. Some readers may find the allegory overly transparent.

In “Shevista” by Koji A. Dae, an American woman goes to live with her Bulgarian husband in his native country. She does not want to have a child, which leads to a sense of isolation from her Bulgarian in-laws, and even her husband. Bored and lonely, she takes up the traditional art of Bulgarian embroidery, learning it from a group of elderly women. She even goes so far as to stitch the patterns into her own body. A supernatural ritual changes her life in an unexpected way.

The story conveys the pressure to conform to the expectations of a foreign culture in a vivid manner. Although the protagonist accepts her new condition, there is a sense that she was forced into it against her will.

The most striking part of the narrative, of course, is the way that the woman uses a needle to weave designs in her own flesh, despite the pain and bleeding. This does not seem to be the source of the transformation that occurs at the climax, however, and I had to wonder what the author was trying to say about the woman’s choice to do such a thing.

The narrator of “Americana!” by Sam Asher lives in a future United States that has fallen into total anarchy. He works for a man who runs a place where people barter for goods. His boss sends him to an old house said to be full of magazines from the time before chaos, which are valuable because people in this world are hungry for a taste of a better past. The errand leads to violent battles with other scavengers, and a final gesture on the part of the narrator.

This is a grim portrait of a hellish society where killing is a casual act performed for trivial reasons. The narrator chooses to directly address the reader at times, acknowledging that he is speaking to those in the past reading about the future. This metafictional conceit tends to weaken the impact of an otherwise extremely visceral account of dystopia.

“The Fruit of the Princess Tree” by Sage Tyrtle is a surreal fairy tale, in which women in cages grow from trees. The only purpose of these so-called princesses is to wait until princes come along to claim them. Sometimes a cage falls to the ground before a prince opens it, and the princess dies. Others are left wondering about their fates when the number of princes dwindles to nothing. One of the princesses manages to escape on her own, and changes the lives of the others of her kind.

The story seems intended as a feminist fable about freeing women from dependence on male approval. As such, it gets its message across clearly, whether or not one agrees with it. The premise is an unusual and interesting one, but some may find the metaphor too overt.

In “Hoodie” by Tonya Liburd, a homeless Trinidadian orphan, barely surviving as a street singer, learns about her parents from a supernatural being. She tracks down her mother, who is also a magical creature, and discovers that she has to break away from her past to find her own worth.

The author makes fine use of Trinidadian folklore, and provides a great deal of local color for readers not familiar with the area. The narrative style captures the language of the region, without becoming difficult for those not used to it. Although the theme of self-discovery is evident, it is not too blatant.

“In the Monster’s Mouth” by Tim Waggoner alternates between bizarre scenes of a woman struggling to escape from a gigantic fish in a seemingly infinite ocean with realistic flashbacks to her childhood with a self-centered, verbally abusive father. It becomes evident that the nightmarish situation in the fantasy sequences is a direct result of her psychological trauma.

Both sections of the story are written in a clear, vivid style, making the incredible seem as believable as the ordinary. Some of the fantastic elements are less than fully effective. When we discover that the endless sea is formed from the woman’s tears, for example, the effect is melodramatic rather than poignant.


Victoria Silverwolf considers herself a feminist.