Realms of Fantasy, October 2003

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"Okra, Sorghum, Yam" by Bruce Holland Rogers
"In the Forest of Forgetting" by Theodora Goss
"The Door Gunner" by Michael Bishop
"The Day Pietro Coppino Spoke to the Mountain" by William Shunn
"Runesmith" by Harlan Ellison and Theodore Sturgeon
"Deep in the Woods of Grammarie" by Michael Swanwick
"Strings" by Karen Traviss

ImageThe cover of the October 2003 Realms of Fantasy features an attractive and busty woman warrior holding a long and glowing sword and wearing mail that covers her crotch, her wrists and her shoulders, though not her head, neck or heart. False advertising, really, because there is neither hide nor hair of a sword and sorcery tale in this issue. One hopes that the readers who pick it up for the cover are also seduced by the fine stories inside.

Although there isn't any S&S, this issue includes most of the other subgenres of fantasy: slipstream, folk tales, mythology, dark fantasy on the slippery slope to horror. There's not a story in here that isn't worth reading, and some of them are much more than that.

Michael Bishop is a nice man of regular habits, but that good neighbor exterior houses an imagination with more than a tinge of whacked out insanity. "The Door Gunner" is a Vietnam story, written with the kind of gritty detail that will destroy any romantic notions you might have about war. Although the story is fantasy – it's about a guy who's dead "but too dumb to lie down" so he just keeps doing his job – the story feels as accurate to me as any of the true life stories I've heard from Vietnam vets or read in historical accounts. That's partly Bishop's writing – he has a gift for telling the truth while weaving an outlandish story. It might also just be that Vietnam – and maybe war in general – was a surrealistic event. Although this is a short story, Bishop uses seven different points of view and switches them often – and it works extremely well. Master writers like Bishop can pull off this kind of rule breaking; the rest of you, don't try this at home.

Bruce Holland Rogers' "Okra, Sorghum, Yam" is a folk tale. It's a tale of a wise man who teaches wisdom – perhaps – to a princess, and while it's obviously rooted in African culture, it has overtones of the classic Chinese and Japanese stories about master warriors and their more foolish students. It's the middle of the tale – we have only hints about the experiences of the princess's other sisters – but even if the princess misses most of the truth, the reader doesn't. A charming read – I can easily imagine a storyteller telling this one around a campfire.

While Rogers is playing with folk tales, Karen Traviss is upending mythology. In "Strings" she gives us a feminist retelling of the myth of Eurydice and Orpheus. Her Eurydice is emphatically not in love with Orpheus, but one cannot refuse the son of a god. Traviss turns the old story on its head with several unexpected twists, making readers consider whether what the underlying truth might be in many of the other myths they studied in school.

In another twist on old forms, Michael Swanwick provides seven short-shorts that take a twisted look at fairy tales in "Deep in the Woods of Grammarie." Some of these, like "The Hero," provide much the same moral as the original tales. But others, like "The Witch," will jump out and surprise you. "The essence of a witch is wrongness," true, but what Swanwick does with her is very interesting. A couple of the other tales involve young women who do not exactly follow the usual fairy tale script. Yes, these are fairy tales, but you might not want to read them to your small children. Your teenagers will probably appreciate them, though.

"In the Forest of Forgetting," by Theodora Goss, slides us right into the slipstream. The main character – who is searching for her name – is in the forest because she has "lumps." She drifts along, learning and rejecting possible names. Too much information about this beautifully written story will spoil the experience of reading it, but I would suggest that the ending is both happy and sad at the same time.

In "The Day Pietro Coppino Spoke to the Mountain," William Shunn gives us a disturbing story about a great sculptor whose masterpiece of Persephone and Pluto is drooping, changing shape. At the urging of his son, he goes to speak to the mountain from which came the rock he is carving. His choice of what to say affects both him and his sculpture, and leaves the reader to contemplate compromise and sacrifice.

This issue also includes a classic reprint, a collaboration between Harlan Ellison and Theodore Sturgeon, "Runesmith." Although this is distinct fantasy, with a young man who learned the ancient ways of magic and other powers with whom he struggles, it feels a bit like Golden Age science fiction. Perhaps this is simply because it's set in a destroyed Manhattan – the setting for many post-apocalypse stories – but given that it is dedicated to the memory of Cordwainer Smith, I suspect the genre blurring is intentional. The main character is also Smith, and he has destroyed the world. Is this his fault, and can he fix it? Read and see.

Nancy Jane Moore's fiction is currently available in three anthologies: Imaginings; Imagination Fully Dilated: Science Fiction; and Mota 3: Courage. She lives in Washington, D.C.