Nightmare “The Plague Comes from Chinatown” by Claire Jia-Wen
“A Nebraskan Choir” by Steve Toase
“Annette Funicello Is My Dream Mouse” by S.L. Coney
Reviewed by Geoff Houghton
The first new story in the July issue of Nightmare is “The Plague Comes from Chinatown” by Claire Jia-Wen. This is an almost novelette-sized story set in an un-named Californian city late in the nineteenth century. The context of a strong anti-Chinese labour vigilante movement is historically accurate, but is further exaggerated by the presence of some supernatural elements, primarily utilising various forms of blood magic.
The story is woven around several contrasting POV characters, the most significant of which is a Chinese Courtesan whose own magical skills include the ability to absorb elements of the life-force of those in close proximity to her. She perceives this life-force as external insect-like creatures on her client’s skin which she can capture and consume. Her zen-like acceptance of her sale by her own parents and the nature of her imposed profession is realistically Chinese and the reader may not be surprised to discover that the author is both female and of ethnic Chinese origin.
There is a deliberately contrasting intemperate POV drawn from a self-righteous vigilante of the anti-Chinese Workingman’s Party of California and further idiosyncratic examination of the same basic situation from his loyal and conspicuously subservient wife, a white gambler who regularly uses the gaming tables and other facilities of Chinatown, a roving reporter who, not quite dispassionately, observes all that passes and a somewhat racist law-enforcement officer whose obvious biases negate any protection that the inhabitants of Chinatown might receive from the authorities.
The Chinese inhabitants of the ghetto certainly do not expect any external aid or state justice and they receive none in this realistic but unsettling story. It is an unexpected consequence of blood magic rather than the authorities that deliver a well-deserved vengeance upon the bodies of the vigilantes.
The second offering is “A Nebraskan Choir” by Steve Toase. The location of this brief story is given in the title and the date is close to the present day.
A ruined ranch in the wilderness of Nebraska has been taken over by a trio of vampire sirens led by the first person narrator. The chilling throwaway remark from this dark lady that the original, innocent, and god-fearing inhabitants are not yet entirely dead and plead continuously for that mercy immediately sets the tone of this entire piece.
They are about to destroy and consume an entire biker gang that have entered their small but deadly domain. Yet these creatures are distinctly inhuman and cannot necessarily be judged by our mortal standards. If any moral is to be drawn from this chilling horror story it may be that they are clearly malevolent and evil, but that is their nature. It would be entirely right to exterminate them, if we had that power, but wrong to hate them for what they are.
The final story is “Annette Funicello Is My Dream Mouse” by S.L. Coney. The events of this first person story occur in an unspecified US city in the present day. The male narrator is a deeply-disturbed, jilted-lover who is almost certainly clinically insane. His day, and his whole existence, teeters on the edge of madness, all described in a staccato tone that somehow captures the essence of his fractured character. Unlike the elemental forces described in the flash story that preceded this one, this character captures the essence of petty-evil. His cruelties are small, spiteful, and self-destructive. They invite repulsion rather than hate, but certainly call for a reader response. This is not a lovable character, but he is a believable one. If that was the author’s intent, then she has succeeded.
Geoff Houghton lives in a leafy village in rural England. He is a retired Healthcare Professional with a love of SF and a jackdaw-like appetite for gibbets of medical, scientific and historical knowledge.