The Elastic Book of Numbers, edited by Allen Ashley

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"Approaching Zero" by John Lucas
"Where None Is the Number" by Joel Lane
"351073" by Jeff Gardiner

"3:21" by Eric Shapiro
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"i" by Paul Evanby
"Two Moon City" by Tim Lees
"Every Eight and Eleven" by E. Sedia
"Breach of Contract, Clause 6A" by Mark Patrick Lynch
"The One Millionth Smile" by Neil Williamson
"4Thoughts on Numbers" by Ellen McAteer
"Twenty One Again" by Neil Ayres
"Dial 1-800-2-To-Live" by Donald Pulker
"The Square Root of 2" by Phil Locascio
"Sixty Thousand Pieces of Glass" by Sam Hayes
"The Sympathy of Five" by Joy Marchand
"The Zero Worm" by Charles Lambert
"Wanderer 8" by Rosaleen Love
"Mine the Primes" by Julian Todd
"7:33" by Toiya Kristen Finley
"When We Were Five" by Marion Arnott
"While We Were Sleeping, Numbers Took Over the World" by Tim Nickels and Allen Ashley
In The Elastic Book of Numbers, numbers play a pivotal role in each of the stories, literally or symbolically. Most of the offerings are speculative fiction, spanning the spectrum from hard science fiction to psychological horror. The anthology also includes several non-fiction pieces, even a puzzle or two; the frontispiece is a cryptogram.

While the book presents a reasonable variety of fiction, it does seem to emphasize tragedy. Lively but brief flickers of humor punctuate a collection mostly peopled by doomed or unredeemable protagonists. The overall effect is rather depressing.

Generally, the writing emphasizes literary quality over clarity and plausibility. Much of the language is extraordinarily vivid, and most of the stories feature exquisite characterization. Unfortunately, these often come at the expense of strong plotting, and many of the storylines veer into absurd and surreal territory.

The anthology opens with "Approaching Zero" by John Lucas. This quirky tale, rendered as a series of diary entries, follows a couple and a society as they take voluntary simplicity to a ridiculous extreme. Instead of seeking to acquire more material goods, the characters obsess with counting and culling their possessions in endless cycles. The linear plot relies on theme to carry it, but some readers may find the story’s lesson elusive nonetheless. Though mildly amusing, this story ultimately leaves a lukewarm impression.

In Joel Lane‘s "Where None Is the Number," a man suffering a string of bad luck wins a lottery by filling out his ticket with all zeroes. The rest of the story is a symbolic examination of how his life fails to improve thereafter, despite his efforts to be more than just a "nobody." Dreamscape intrudes on reality, lending the impression of madness. Though peppered with ironic humor, this tale is quite bleak. Readers may find it difficult to sympathize with the unlikeable protagonist, and it is tedious to wallow so deep inside his point of view with very little dialogue or character interaction to break the monotony. This piece may succeed as a character study, but not as a narrative.

In "351073," a poignant memoir by Jeff Gardiner, a clergyman reflects on his daughter’s unusual life. The circumstances of her naming at birth engender in her a fascination with numerology and number games, culminating in a religious philosophy at once alien and similar to the narrator’s Christianity. The father’s voice is somewhat distant and sentimental, as if the narrative is the text of one of his own sermons. Even so, he learns powerful lessons about love from beyond the bounds of his faith, and readers may feel moved to tears.

On the heels of pathos comes "3:21," a highly amusing piece by Eric Shapiro. An office dweller relates how his bereaved boss, under the influence of a psychic "theory," fixates on the number sequence 3-2-1 in an attempt to summon the spirit of his dead wife. Over time, the boss integrates the numbers into a variety of office procedures, often with hilarious results. Despite the story’s light-hearted tone, the ending may leave a reader thinking—and wondering.

Perhaps the strongest work in the anthology is "i" by Paul Evanby. The title refers to the square root of -1, the imaginary number i, but it could just as easily stand for "intriguing." As the story begins, a disabled computer technician befriends a mysterious musician who claims to be from a different reality—one in which i, not 1, is the basis of all musical ratios. His goal is to calculate the value of i in this reality in order to create a revolutionary new kind of music in his own. Though the endeavor seems absurd on its face, the visitor engages the technician’s own computers in the effort. Interleaved with the main story are the wartime experiences of a composer whose music fascinates both of the principal characters.
"i" is an incredibly vivid story, especially in its descriptions of music, and it evokes a wistful sadness. It explores a complex interplay of mathematics, music, and imagination, and even after several reads the details may remain mysterious. In a way, this piece challenges a reader to imagine infinity, leaving one gazing "north of reality" while listening to "a Toccata and Fugue in i."

"Two Moon City" by Tim Lees places a high fantasy culture on Mars, where the two moons are believed to govern everyone’s fate. The narrator, an Earthman in the service of a regional ruler, acts only as a storyteller. As he relates how his merciless master courted a beautiful young woman, the piece takes on the air of a rather dreary fairy tale. The story emphasizes the harsh dualism that permeates Martian society, inspired by the two moons, a philosophy which has resulted in a rigid class structure. Though the worldbuilding is excellent, the narrative unfortunately accomplishes little else. The theme is clear, but it is delivered somewhat heavy-handedly.

In "Every Eight and Eleven," E. Sedia offers a fascinating page-turner that also manages to deliver laughs. A man sensitive to numerical patterns suddenly finds himself bombarded by references to 8 and 11 in his daily life. Taking them for a sign, he tries to leverage them in gambling, with mixed results. Though lighthearted overall, this piece sometimes darkens unexpectedly, rendering the tone a little inconsistent. It ends rather abruptly, leaving readers to contemplate the moral of the story on their own.

"Breach of Contract, Clause 6A" by Mark Patrick Lynch is a grim story that holds its secrets close. The protagonist begins a job that requires him to solve daily puzzles delivered in briefcases. As the days progress, it becomes apparent that his employer is involved in a sinister enterprise. However, it is difficult for a reader to decipher exactly what’s going on because the story lacks context. It also holds the audience at arm’s length with regard to character motivation: we never learn why the protagonist works for the unidentified employer or how he feels about his job—only that he must finish each puzzle by the time the mail goes out each day. The other characters are faceless props, and the absence of dialogue aside, the protagonist does not interact with them in any meaningful way. Arguably, the story might lose some of its raw impact if the situation were clearer. As it stands, a reader cannot get close enough to the protagonist to care about him, and the narrative coasts on the cleverness of the puzzles and their solutions.

In Neil Williamson‘s "The One-Millionth Smile," a man with a dying mother confronts an old family legend. For generations, the women of the family have logged predictions of their newborn children’s life spans in terms of the numbers of heartbeats, breaths, and smiles they will have. This story is well-written, with vivid and lovely prose, and it delivers a strong emotional punch. It may leave a reader feeling unsatisfied, however; the author could have done so much more with the intriguing premise, at least in terms of narrative.

At this point, the anthology breaks for an essay by Ellen McAteer. "4Thoughts on Numbers" is a short but thought-provoking discussion about the relationship of mathematics to beauty and the natural world.

In "Twenty One Again," Neil Ayres uses forty-two short, overlapping scenes to relate an incident at a British pub. Each of the first twenty-one scenes is written in a different point of view, and the second twenty-one revisit the same characters in reverse order. This unusual structure might lend itself to an interesting writing exercise, but it makes for ineffective storytelling. It is difficult to keep the many characters straight, and most of them are peripheral to the central thread at best, in addition to being unlikeable. The ending is clever and wonderfully ironic, but the author could have delivered the same impact with a much simpler and shorter story. Unfortunately, some American readers may find the British slang and pub culture references too confusing and distracting. (Also of note to Tangent readers, this story is not technically speculative fiction.)

"Dial 1-800-2-To-Live" is a surreal tale of desperation by Donald Pulker. The terminally ill protagonist responds to a cryptic newspaper ad offering hope for the dying. After calling the phone number in the ad, he embarks on a frustrating wild goose chase through gloomy streets and endless office hallways. The author makes good use of suspense, and he succeeds in evoking an aching sympathy for his pathetic main character. The narrative, though, leaves readers at a dead end with many more questions than answers.

Phil Locascio’s story, "The Square Root of 2," is a rambling monologue by a sociopathic neat-freak. The narrator’s quirky obsession with precision, seemingly harmless at first, soon impels him to commit a ghastly crime. Though the plotline is rather soft, the piece is a fascinating character study, if bordering on the absurd. The speculative elements are somewhat weak; this is mainly a psychological piece.

"Sixty Thousand Pieces of Glass" by Sam Hayes is a bizarre tale of jealousy mingled with a struggle for individuality. The protagonist, an artist who works in glass, encounters a religious cult though her simple-minded boyfriend. As she drifts deeper into the "Oneness" proffered by the cult leader, her boyfriend fights to maintain separateness for them both, sometimes engaging in counting exercises like an idiot savant. The storytelling twists back upon itself, and it’s easy to lose track of what’s happening when or even whether the protagonist is alive or dead. In the end, the story seems to be an exercise in symbolism and imagery, framing a confusing plot that fails to engross.

In "The Sympathy of Five" by Joy Marchand, a Russian immigrant mourning for his younger brother decides to get a tattoo of the boy’s face on his body. The artist he seeks out, a fellow immigrant, is haunted by his own tragedies—which he shares with the already bereaved protagonist. The prose has a lyrical quality, and though this piece is not a poem, it is more a song than a story. Its strongest aspect, perhaps, is its vivid and heartbreaking characterization.

Charles Lambert’s "The Zero Worm" begins with an intriguing mystery that suggests a hard sci-fi direction. A medical journal editor begins developing rashes all over his body—rashes shaped like numbers. Much of the story deals with his attempts to "decode" the "message" etched into his skin. Unfortunately, the fascinating premise soon degrades into mere metaphor, and the tone darkens as the point of view changes from the protagonist to his wife. The story’s abrupt ending falls flat, and if it offers any answers to the story’s questions, they are written in a code some readers may not be able to decipher.

In "Wanderer 8" by Rosaleen Love, a space station inhabitant relates how she and her husband are stranded in Earth’s orbit. The station has acquired a strange and comical "ring" comprised of such things as fish, beer ring-pulls, and the lost Mars explorer, Beagle 2. However, the reader should not expect an amusing tale in the vein of Hitchhiker’s Guide here. In trying to understand her deteriorating predicament, the protagonist entertains astrological "theories," and she comes to a rather farfetched conclusion about her ultimate fate. Readers are left to doubt the character’s sanity and wonder if they truly experienced the objective reality around her.

Julian Todd’s "Mine the Primes" is the anthology’s strongest example of hard science fiction. In a hypothetical future, interstellar travel depends on the use of large prime numbers to generate powerful "resonances" in other dimensions. The catch is that each prime number may be used for this purpose only once in the history of the universe. When the primes ran out during one interstellar voyage, the travelers were stranded in space. The narrator, a mathematician who grew up onboard, recalls for an unnamed listener how he confronted the problem of discovering more primes. The story is mainly a tirade against human greed and wastefulness, and an effective one. This is, however, another piece with a lot of unrealized potential.

"7:33" by Toiya Kristen Finley is an earthy tale of bewitchment. The protagonist is a young black woman who has successfully transcended her impoverished childhood in the American South. For weeks, she has been seeing the time 7:33 in every clock, regardless of the actual time. She suspects she is under the spell of a mysterious old blues man who has recently returned to her mother’s neighborhood. To ascertain his motives, she confronts others, but in the end, the blues man forces her to confront herself. This is an energetic and moody piece, infused with local color, but readers may struggle to disentangle the characters’ real relationships to one another. Likewise, the ending may leave some feeling baffled.

Next is "When We Were Five" by Marion Arnott. In this long story, the protagonist remembers a 1969 trip to the Soviet Union with students belonging to the Young Communist Party. There he meets an old woman, a scarred survivor of Stalinist terror, who works as a janitor at the hotel where he is staying. From their first encounter, he is drawn to her. After he falls ill, he spends every day with her, listening to her recount the tragedies of her life. Each night, he relives them in his dreams, his consciousness projected into various bodies in the past. Faces gradually disappear from one of the woman’s old photos as she recalls her life. The protagonist’s sympathy for the Communist cause wanes as he experiences Soviet cruelty and oppression firsthand.

This story is well written and vibrant with immediacy, and its short scenes contribute to a quick pace. The subject matter, however, is very disturbing, and some readers may find it unpleasant or uncomfortable to read. It recalls some of the darkest moments from Doctor Zhivago and the various Romanov tragedies. That being said, the vicarious hell experienced by the protagonist renders the final catharsis more potent when the author delivers it.

Tim Nickels and editor Allen Ashley collaborate on the anthology’s closing offering, "While We Were Sleeping, Numbers Took Over the World." This nonfiction piece offers historical and social commentary via the arrangement of numbers. In essence, the numbers become metaphor, frequently in clever ways. Often the challenge is to find the variation in a pattern, as if working a puzzle.

Publisher: Elastic Press 
Price: £6.00
Trade paperback: 286 pages