Lightspeed #119, April 2020

Lightspeed #119, April 2020

“The Least of These” by Veronica Roth

“Voice of Their Generation” by Andrew Dana Hudson

“Glass Bottle Dancer” by Celeste Rita Baker

“The Witch Speaks” by Rati Mehrotra

Reviewed by Kat Day

Issue #119 of Lightspeed features a collection of stories that dwell on what we value, how we grow and change and, above all, what it means to be human.

“The Least of These,” by Veronica Roth, introduces us to two women named, for the purposes of the narrative, Best and Least. An alien enters the room in which they find themselves and explains their situation: they must make a difficult and far-reaching decision. This is an interesting story with deep themes that question what it means to be a “good” person, and, more importantly, how we value humanity. It’s clever, thought-provoking, and ultimately rather moving.

“Voice of Their Generation,” by Andrew Dana Hudson, is a futuristic piece that begins with a character named Thicket on their ninth rewrite of the third act of Detective Pikachu vs. Predator. This sets the tone perfectly for this irreverent story which also has something meaningful to say about the importance of stories to humans and why, sometimes, it’s all about getting a message across.

“Glass Bottle Dancer,” by Celeste Rita Baker, is written in the first person using Caribbean dialect (the author is Caribbean herself). The main character, Mabel, thinks of the words “glass bottle dancer” and has the idea of taking soda bottles, laying them down, and stepping on them to dance. At first, there doesn’t seem to be much of a fantasy element in this piece, but that appears in the final act. This is a lovely story, different and fresh, with a wonderfully upbeat ending. It’s also a real joy to see a supportive romantic relationship portrayed.

“The Witch Speaks,” by Rati Mehrotra, begins with the main character, a witch, in Varanasi—one of the seven holy sites of Hinduism. We quickly learn that she can hear the dead, and the story appears to be framed as dialogue spoken by her to someone she’s lost, although perhaps things are less straightforward than that. This is a complex piece that twists and turns, bending time as well as well as blurring the boundaries between life and death. The language is beautiful. I’m not quite sure I understood the ending, but perhaps that doesn’t matter.


Kat Day is an associate editor at pseudopod.org, writes a mixture of both fiction and non-fiction, and can be found generally hanging around on social media. You can follow her on Twitter @chronicleflask.