The back jacket copy describes Majestrum by Matthew Hughes, as “Sherlock Holmes meets Jack Vance’s Dying Earth…” H-m-m-m-m. Let’s take a look. This first person narrative chronicles the latest adventures of Henghis Hapthorn, freelance discriminator. Hapthorn is assisted by his integrator, a sort of electronic Dr. Watson, in the broadest sense, who has been transformed into a living, breathing, and definitely, eating creature. Cat-monkey is how I pictured it in my mind, although it is also referred to as a “familiar.” “It?” Is it male? Female? Not sure, but it most definitely is no longer a machine.

The third member of Hapthorn’s feckless crew is Hapthorn himself. Or, rather, Hapthorn’s intuition, which has achieved separate awareness under the same special circumstances described in a previous novel wherein our integrator becomes flesh and blood and sentient. Well, kind of sentient. And hungry.

So the intuition is growing in awareness and power and Hapthorn can foresee the day when he, Hapthorn, the current “I” in this particular body will be nothing more than a daub of logic in the other’s mind. By the way, in this far distant future universe of Hapthorn’s (Ah, Dying Earth-like) the operating system of the universe is making a switch. Kind of like going from Windows to Mac, the universe is slowly reverting to a past state wherein sympathetic association (also known as magic) dominates over logic and reason. It seems the universe fluctuates, switching from one to the other over the millennia in constant change as yin becomes yang and yang becomes yin.

However, certain occurrences in said previous novel have brought about the change faster in particular instances, i.e. integrator becomes cat-monkey and intuition becomes ego.
So we begin the novel with the integrator snacking on expensive bowls of fruit, and Hapthorn worrying about losing control of his body.

Now to the mystery, or, mysteries. First Lord Afre, a member of Earth’s aristocracy in the far future, calls in need of a freelance discriminator (Enter the Holmesian element.). Hapthorn begins his investigation, carefully. Decadent? Jaded? The aristocrats of the far future may be that, but they are more than anything, dangerous. Of course, one does not climb to such a pinnacle nor maintain that perch without having claws. Although, so unaware of the lower classes is Lord Afre, that Henghis must wear a symbol of recognition to safeguard him (Nice touch this!).

A second mystery is carried in by the Archon, the young, somewhat clumsy, and absolute ruler of Earth. Soon, Holmes, er, uh, Hapthorn is embroiled in a case that may well determine the very integrity of the universe.

Majestrum has many fine points. The characters are fey and immoral and somewhat Vanceian, but, to Matthew Hughes’ credit, very much their own people. This novel has the feel of a Jack Vance universe, but the characters are Matthew Hughes's. I particularly like the interplay between Hapthorn and his familiar. The exchanges are often droll and dry, and very funny. Toward the end of the book, Hapthorn requires his familiar to perform what seems to be a dangerous action. The familiar refuses. The dialogue brought more than one laugh-out-loud from me. Very nice.

So the characters are good and some are very real. The mystery is not all that mysterious, and the reader is not supplied with enough information to solve the case. Not bad, but not a true mystery.
The setting tends to be flat. There is just not enough description of the world around our team. Curiously, this might be said to mimic Jack Vance, whose worlds often seem a bit vague, especially when compared to the creatures who inhabit them.

Vance meets Holmes? I will give in to the Vance part with the caveat that Matthew Hughes’s characters are his very own and should be appreciated and enjoyed for this. They are not merely Vanceian pastiches, they are real. And often quite good.

Holmes, no, I think not. But this is not a bad thing. Once again, Henghis Hapthorn, his familiar, and his soon-to-be-ego are individuals their own selves. This is not really a mystery, but an enjoyable story about a detective—I mean a freelance discriminator.

Majestrum is a delightful book and highly recommended. If you like Jack Vance you will most likely enjoy these characters. But also, enjoy them on their own. The plot is above average and combined with Hughes’s excellent writing style, moves along quite well. I enjoyed this to the point where I will go back and catch up on the doings of Hapthorn and also go forward and read the newest book, The Spiral Labyrinth, as well.

The Shadow Pavilion, the fourth in the Detective Inspector Chan adventures certainly carries through with the promise of an entertaining read. DI Chen, Shanghai Three’s Police Liaison with Heaven and Hell, is after whatever group is illegally bringing in residents of Hell as cheap labor. He has two of the best working on it when they disappear. Seneschal Zhu Irzh is not only a demon but a terrific operative in his own right and was sent in with Badger, who can take care of himself. Now Chen has to find out where they’ve gone and still get to the bottom of the issue. It doesn’t help when he finds out that the newly crowned Celestial Emperor is under an attempted assassination and that a shortcutting scriptwriter has imported a Tiger demon to impersonate a movie star and that she is now on the loose and in a starlet-sized snit.

Liz Williams has created an interestingly enjoyable fantasy/scifi/adventure. This one sort of defies classification as Singapore Three is futuresque but with her addition of the realms of Hell and Heaven and all their dream- and nightmarescape denizens, the tale takes on a mythological bent that makes for fascinating reading. She has begun to flesh out some of the secondary characters more – we get to see from the perspective of Badger, a Hellish family familiar with fierce loyalties to Chen and his wife; we also get a little more perspective from the Celestial Emperor; as well as Chen’s wife Inari. As usual we have some new secondary characters, new demons, foolish humans, and the most successful assassin of all time to keep us amused.

With all due speed Williams draws us into the intrigue, imbuing our imaginations with vivid images full of color and scent that make her stories come alive. With this descriptive skill she lures us in. Then, like the sticky strands of a spider’s web, we get trapped and held by a story that is so full of life we cannot even decide what to call it. Is it futuristic police procedural? Is it an allegorical fairy tale? Near future occult? Perhaps an alternative historical fantasy? Whatever you would like to call it, I’ll just call it something I want more of. Fans of the previous three will not be disappointed.

I recently read the story The People of Sand and Slag in the anthology Wastelands: stories of the Apocalypse and I thought it was one of the highlights of that collection. Bacigalupi is one of the two authors in that collection I decided to read more material of in the not too distant future (the other is Nancy Kress). This automatically leads me to Pump Six and Other Stories, a collection of 10 stories (11 if you happen to own the limited edition, which I don't) and currently his only work that appeared in book form. I understand he is working a novel, judging from the stories in this collection I am definitely going to read it.

Pump Six and Other Stories contains nine stories that have been previously published in various magazines and anthologies between 1999 and 2007. The story Pump Six is original to this collection. Bacigalupi's stories are usually set in a (near) future and deal with two major themes, humanity (in the face of immortality) and environmentalism. His visions of the future do no make for happy reading, especially since some of them are very plausible, but if you look carefully a hint of optimism is present in most of them.

The collection opens with A Pocket Full of Dharma, a story set in a future China. Wang Jun, a young boy, orphaned and homeless, attempts to survive in the city of Chengdu by stealing and begging. Fortune seems to smile on him when he sees a foreigner with an expensive pair of glasses he intends to steal. Following the foreigner he is witness to his murder. The killers allow him to take the glasses but only if he will carry a datacube for them. When the person he is supposed to deliver it to fails to show up he decides to keep the cube and unwillingly becomes involved in the political struggles over Tibet. I was struck by Wang's will to survive and the lengths he will go to to fill his belly every evening. On the one hand you want to smack him for not seeing the bigger picture, on the other you fully understand his instinct for self preservation.

The second story is The Fluted Girl. Set in a world where in some places at least, governing seems to have reverted back to a feudal system, with the subjects of of a fief are little more than property. For the rich virtual immortality is available but at a high price. To gain financial independence Madame Belari has carefully raised two fluted girls. Girls that literally use each other's body as a musical instrument. One of the two seems happy to go along with this treatment but the other, Lidia, is not content. Another malcontent, a boy by the name of Stephen, has given her the means to make her displeasure known, but how will she go about it? The end of this one will leave the reader wondering, not only which option Lidia chose but also if the other would have been preferable.

The People of Sand and Slag is another story that deals with near immortal humans. It explores they effect on their psyche in a different way though. I already covered it in the Wastelands review so I won't elaborate here. Suffice to say I still think it is brilliant.

The Pasho is set in a world that is slowly recovering from a collapse. Knowledge and technology are no longer widely available. Ten years ago a young Jai man, Raphel, left his people to study with the Pasho, a sect who believe knowledge should be made available to people when they are ready to oversee the consequences of it's use. To study he had to go to the great city of the Jai's ancient enemy, the Keli. Now he is returning to his people and not everybody is happy to see him. A deep hatred for the Keli burns in some of the Jai as they see the Keli cultural influence overwhelming their own ancient ways. His grandfather, a hero of the previous crusade against the Keli, is one of the Jai calling for another war. Raphel must choose between his teaching and his culture. When he makes his choice you can't feel but wonder if he really did not betray his people.

The Calorie Man is one of the stories with a strong environmental theme. Set in a future where oil has run out biomass now fuels society (one way or another). The agricultural industries are well in control of the economy. Their genetically manipulated, patented and plague resistant seed stock dominates the market and bio-engineered pests have finished off all competition. These companies rabidly guard their monopolies with rigorous checks for "unstamped calories". Lalji, an immigrant to New Orleans, is a small antiques dealer and sometimes smuggler. He used to have dreams of a better future but they have been firmly squashed but reality. Still, hope is not entirely gone. He lets himself be talked into travelling up the Mississippi to collect a man who literally carries the seeds of change.

In recent years there have been some disturbing trends in the agricultural industry in regard to genetic manipulation, patented seeds, seeds that don't produce a heirloom crop, seeds that are manipulated to be resistant to a patented pesticide etcetera. All of these developments point towards the agricultural industry dominating farming, if it doesn't lead to outright monopolies. it also raises questions such as whether it is ethical to patent genetic material and what it would mean for the world if we become dependant on crops that don't produce heirloom seeds. The Calorie Man paints a bleak picture of what might be possible. Somehow I don't think this collection will grace the library of whoever runs Monsanto.

The Tamarisk Hunter is a story set in the south west of the United States. Water has become so scarce that extensive legal battles have erupted over water rights. California appears to have been successful in securing a large portion of the water supply. As a result the situation in other parts of the region has become difficult indeed. Many of the inhabitants have moved away, following the water. Lolo has managed to hang on to his patch though. He hunts Tamarisk, a plant growing along riverbanks that holds a lot of water. The water bounty has been enough to make ends meet for him. To keep in business he secretly reseeds the plants, an activity that carries a severe penalty if discovered, so when a national guard official shows up at his place he thinks his life as a Tamarisk hunter is about to end. It is, just not in the way he expects.

One of the things that struck me when I visited the American South West in 1996 was how amazingly short-sighted some of the water policies that are in place seem to be. It is not a question of whether the region will have to face severe water shortages, only when. Bacigalupi puts a very human face to the crisis that such a shortage might cause.

In Pop Squad Bacigalupi returns to a future where humanity has found a cure for ageing. Since this would involve a serious demographic crisis without some severe birth control measures being in place an anti conceptive is added to the treatment. Not everybody will settle for not having children even if it means living forever though. Some women are still illegally getting pregnant. The main character works for a police unit that finds such illegal parents. The penalty for the parents is severe, for the children it is even worse. Our police officer is troubled though, he is increasingly curious why someone would want to give up living forever to raise children. A disturbingly brutal story but with a kernel of humanity and compassion. Not as powerful as The People of Sand and Slag though.

Yellow Card Man seems to be set in the same future as The Calorie Man but in a different part of the world. In an anti Chinese pogrom former successful businessman Tranh lost his business, his familt and almost his life. Now he is trying to survive as an unwanted refugee in Bangkok. It is not a kind city to old destitute Chinese refugees and Tranh is forced to shed the last scraps of dignity trying to survive. He even has to grovel for a former employee Ma, whom he fired years ago. He has learnt something of the world since then though, something Ma has yet to figure out. Probably the most pessimistic story of the collection. There really isn't a way out for Tranh and he knows it.

The story that least appealed to me in this collection was Softer. The story is about a man who murders his wife on impulse. Even in hindsight he doesn't really know why he did it. He feels more relief than guilt though. The murderer doesn't know why he did it and, after reading the story twice, neither do I.

The final story of the collection and the one that gave it its name is Pump Six. The story is set in a far future where people no longer seem to be intelligent enough to keep the technological infrastructure that keeps their society going in good repair. The main character Alvarez works at a station that regulates New York sewage treatment system. He is one of the few who still know how to keep the pumps going. Until number six shuts down that is. On closer inspection it turns out to be worn beyond repair and in desperate need of some spare parts. This is way beyond Alvarez' ability to repair. He sets out to look for help. A trip that will open his eyes to the sad state of the world.

I wonder if this is some veiled comment on a society that seems to crave instant gratification as some put it. Society in this story appears to have completely lost sight of long term planning. Whether or not it is, Pump Six leaves you with the feeling that Alvarez is capable of a lot more than he himself knows and that somehow he will fix things. A hopeful end to what is a rather pessimistic set of stories.

Most of Bacigalupi's characters seem to feel they are small people, powerless to change the world around. He shows the effects of certain developments on a very personal level. I am impressed with Bacigalupi's to make these characters come alive in as little words as he uses. On the other hand I also think his stories are best enjoyed in small doses. Take your time reading this collection so the bleak futures Bacigalupi don't overshadow the glimpses of hope and optimism and you'll find some true gems in this collection. One word of advice to Mr. Bacigalupu though, choose a pseudonym. I misspelled Bacigalupi at least fifty times while writing this review ;)

In the anthology Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalypse John Joseph Adams collects 22 pieces of post-apocalyptic short fiction. It includes stories by big names such as Stephen King, George R.R. Martin, Orson Scott Card and Gene Wolfe as well as a number of lesser know authors. I used to read a lot of what could be considered post apocalyptic stories when I was a child. Of course those were the 1980s, when the threat of nuclear warfare was still a (receding) treat. As the editor mentions in his introduction, this sub genre is not quite as popular as it once was. A shame really, I can think of plenty of reasons other than nuclear warfare to bring about large scale destruction.

Adams has managed to collect a varied collection of stories, a good mix of new and old works and varied ways of bringing about the destruction of the world as we know it. It's obvious the editor aimed to give as good and overview of the sub genre as he could manage. He also includes short introductions to each story and adds an extensive list of books recommended for further reading if the sub genre interest you. All in all I think the editor did thorough job. As always with these collections not all stories appealed to me in equal measure but all of them are definitely worth reading. I'm not going to go into detail on each of the stories but there are couple I want to mention specifically.

The People of Sand and Slag by Paolo Bacigalupi is set in the far future. The world has turned into a huge toxic waste site (reason remain unclear) but humanity has adapted and formed a symbiosis with a species that can turn just about everything into sustenance for humans. As a result of increased medical knowledge people have become practically immortal as well as very hard to kill. The attitude towards unmodified lifeforms (very little of whom seem to remain) has changed to something of disbelief at the fragility of these creatures. How did they survive? Then familiar sight in this hostile bleak world shows up . A dog that has managed to survive against all odd. Life is shown as fragile yet surprisingly strong. A very good story even if the end shows us we may not want to evolve in that direction. I've never read anything by Bacigalupi before but I am very much impressed with this story.

Dark, Dark Were the Tunnels by George R.R. Martin was a story I was particularly looking forward to. I don't think I have ever read anything by Martin that disappointed me. This story is no exception. The earth is destroyed by nuclear warfare sometime after humanity has managed to settle on the Moon. Those that remain retreated below the surface of the earth and have been living in the dark for five centuries now. But the radiation levels are dropping and a search party has descended from the moon to look for remains of society and possibly survivors. For the first time in ages they bring light into the world of those few that survived. Martin manages to instil that same creepiness into this story that he puts into a lot of his science fiction/horror hybrids. Don't read this if you are afraid of the dark.

The Last of the O-Forms by James van Pelt. A virus that seems to scramble the DNA of just about everything living brings on Armageddon. By the time the story opens no "normal" baby has been born for years. A clever fellow captures a few interesting mutated specimens of various species and sets up a travelling zoo (or freak show, depending on how you wish to look at it). Years later people are longing for something normal instead of the monsters the virus creates. O-Forms, as the creatures that still resemble the original are called, are becoming scarce. People really don't need a reminder of that. With his zoo about to go under, what must our clever entrepreneur do to stay in business? The Last of the O-Forms is a very sad story. It's not massive destruction that brought on Armageddon but the slow loss of what people recognize as human. Heartbreaking in a way, but the author is not blind to the dark side of human nature either.

Inertia by Nancy Kress is probably the best story in this collection. A lot of her work describes technological developments in the near future and the effect on society they have. FBS has put up another of her short stories which is almost as good in my opinion. You can find Nano Comes to Clifford Falls here.

But back to Inertia, an incurable disease has struck the US and to contain the epidemic modern day leper colonies are set up. Decades later a cure still hasn't been found and while the epidemic is contained whole generations have grown up locked inside the colonies. Deprived of contact with the outside word and anything but the most basic resources the victims make the best of it. Against all odd a more of less stable and peaceful society has formed. The world outside however, is slowly sliding into chaos. Rioting, unemployment, poverty and crime take over. Ironically the people inside the colony might be better off than those outside. Or so some people seem to think. We see all this from the point of view of an old woman, one of the first victims of the disease. She is a brilliant character, very convincing. Fully aware of what she has lost, she has resigned herself to living, and dying, in poverty and ignorance, but surprisingly, there are things that can still move her.

The last story I want to mention is The End of the World as We Know It by Dale Bailey. It's a story about the apocalypse but also a story about stories about the apocalypse. It takes a humorous approach to the sub genre, common types of characters in such stories and common story lines. He also takes a shot at the book of Genesis and the biblical ideas on what the apocalypse will be like, so maybe this won't be too popular with religious people. Towards the end of the collection this story is a quite refreshing look at things though. I very much enjoyed it.

As you can see, it is not the big names that make this collection in my opinion. Except for my obvious bias for Martin's work that is. None of these writers save Martin have made the cover of this anthology. I suppose the big names is what will draw readers to Wastelands as much as the subject but I was surprised to see the number of quality stories Adams managed to collect besides the big names of the genre. Wastelands is successfully gives us an overview of the sub genre. A must read for everybody who enjoys post-pocalyptic fiction.

Seneschal Zhu Irzh, demonic scion and star of the first Detective Inspector Chen Novel, is now officially, if grudgingly, a member of the Singapore 3 police force while Chen is on his honeymoon. An investigation lands in his lap, when a socialite ends up missing. He takes on the investigation, getting a whiff of his native Hell in the mix—and it gives him something to do.

At the same time, Robin Yuan, the lesbian lover of the missing socialite, starts an investigation of her own. Robin works at the pharmaceutical Paugeng Corporation, where she conducts secret, torturous experiments on a seemingly kind creature from Hell, something she finds distasteful.

Zhu Irzh and Robin Yuan’s paths cross, and both discover that it’s no coincidence that every investigative strand leads to the Paugeng Corporation, headed by the beautiful, ambitious and charismatic Jhai Tserai, who has a secret of her own.

Eventually, Detective Inspector Chen returns from Hawaii, bringing his arsenal of spells and dedication to justice to the proceedings, something his vice-loving demon friend lacks. By his appearance, the complex and sinister aspects of the mystery begin to reveal themselves.

To tell any more would spoil the surprises in store for the reader of this hybrid novel, which mixes mystery, comedy, science fiction, and Chinese mythology in unexpected ways. Liz Williams plots like a demon (pun intended). She’s like a juggler, keeping the whole improbable plot and setting moving at a brisk clip. Her city of Singapore 3 is believable, full of squalor and opulence, and the futuristic technology mixed in isn’t jarring at all. The supernatural set pieces have a true sense of wonder, and prove that Ms. Williams has done her research in Chinese mythology. The principles of feng shui, ying and yang, and reincarnation run throughout the worldscape.

The characterizations are uniformly good, to the point that you end up even caring for the villains in the story. Zhu Irzh is a wonderfully wicked character, genuinely perplexed by the fact that he has a conscience. He’s sexy, witty and urbane. Detective Inspector Chen is a bit of a 'straight man' to his comic foil and you really don't miss his absence during the novel. Ms. Williams gives him James Bond-like magical gadgetry, the ability to cool cast spells and even another sidekick—a talking badger that spends a large amount of time as a teakettle. The secondary characters are fleshed out as well, sometimes quite poignantly. As frothy a mix as this is, The Demon and The City also has moments of real horror and suspense. Finally, Ms. Williams' prose is crisp and elegant. There's a seamlessness to her sentences, as she balances action and pleasing word choices. I look forward to the next Detective Inspector Chen novel.

(The cover illustration by the artist Jon Foster that wraps the book is simply stunning, an amazing collage of scenes from the novel framed by sprays of peach blossoms and other flowers. Nightshade Book will be bringing out a mass market edition that will truncate this cover; the trade paperback is worth it).

“One night, I dreamt that trapped cries of ecstasy were turning to water between the floors, staining my ceiling with the shape of a naked woman. I woke and turned on the light, but couldn’t make out anything from the scattered bruises of damp and the cracks in the wood-chip wallpaper. As I was a bout to drift back into sleep, I heard a faint stirring and a dull moan, then a long shuddering wail. I curled into a fetal position as my crotch spasmed uncontrollably, impregnating the dark shape of my dream….” (The Bootleg Heart)

Mostly set in England’s industrial north, The Lost District Joel Lane’s second collection of short stories uses bleak, unrelenting cityscapes to explore the human condition. The burnt out factories, the grey weather and the depressed economy are ever-present characters in his tales. The cover of the edition, by J.K. Potter, is an apt representation of the imagery within. Smoking grey chimneys, and a sepia-tinged image of an emaciated person’s hand that looks like it’s begging or asking for help. The landscape mirrors the souls that prowl through these tales.

The first thing you notice about a Lane story is that they are full of description. The narratives are dense and layered, mostly unbroken by dialogue. The work of Thomas Ligotti comes to mind—the textuality of the page and the insularity of the imagery are major weapons in the author’s arsenal. The stories also move at a leisurely pace, and linger over descriptions. The action is slow and deliberately torturous. The supernatural content in the story is often implicit in the establishment of mood rather than any explicit action. What action that does happen occurs within the character’s mind, as much as it occurs in the physical world. Lane’s characters come from a variety of milieus; all lead lives of “quiet desperation,” to coin a phrase.

Lee, the protagonist in “Pain Barrier,” is visiting a gay bar, aimlessly looking for sex in a soulless city. He meets Tony, who he recognizes from an avant-garde fetish film. The two of them go to the abandoned house where Tony is squatting, and have sex in a decaying room. The sex scene is explicit but tender, and filled with tension, as Lee recalls disturbing images from the film that Tony appeared in. What threatens to become a gorefest , a la Dennis Cooper, is a meditation on loneliness.

This dark slice-of-life form reappears in “Scratch,” a story about a young man in a Council Estate who befriends a stray cat. The story follows the narrator through the downward spiral of his life: running away from home, stormy relationship with his girlfriend, and living on the dole. The cat Sara is the one constant in his life, until she is killed by hooligans. Lane brilliantly uses cat behavior as a philosophical symbol of human nature:

“People say there’s no such thing as a domestic cat, and it’s true. Females in particular. Whatever you feed them, they still hunt. When they bring you something they’ve killed , it’s not a gift. It’s a lesson. They’re trying to train you, like you’re a kitten…A cat’s world is full of territories, friends and enemies, safe roads and dangerous roads. Patterns.” (Scratch)

The outright horror tale here, “Among the Dead,” is an ironic allegory about vampirism. Corporate culture and the culture of ghouls are compared/contrasted with a skill that doesn’t beat you over the head.

Most of these stories are short, but they are heavy pieces. Like Ligotti, Lane is a writer’s writer. It’s as much about craft as it is about story. For fans of cerebral horror, vectored in the direction of Kafka, The Lost District is an exquisite gem.

The Butcher Bird was dropped impaled on the never to read pile its first time around, not for future consumption - just out of spite - and forgotten rather quickly and not unthankfully so. Even while sporting some blurbage from Cyberpunk don William Gibson and capo Pat Cadigan, my worst fears seemed to becoming reality in the first few chapters, namely, another fringe ultra hip wanabee, smart ass protagonist - complete with the job as a tattoo artist and oh yeah…his sidekick is of course a quip-ready, lesbian version of himself - who together find out reality isn’t what it seems. Couple that with the first sip into the quantum-chaos looking-glass mug really reminded me of a favorite comic of mine from the early 90’s, Dark Dominion, published by DEFIANT comics created by Jim Shooter and the legendary Steve Ditko (indeed the subtitle of Butcher Bird is A Novel of the Dominion) and you just had a product that completely was pressing the wrongs buttons with me from the beginning. One also has to have to understand, I had recently read the likes of Alex Bledsoe’s debut The Sword Edged Blonde, ran through the entire overrated Butcher series, read Morgan’s Black Man, Huston’s Already Dead among some others and while they all represent different levels of quality I just had an overload on the too-cool, snarky, potential goth-idols running around telling me how smooth they are.

What I just described could still have been viewed as a recipe for success if attached to a writer I was familiar with - an Aylett, a Moorcock, a Tarantino, but anytime I’m experiencing a writer for the first time - and I understand Kadrey has previous well thought of credits - and am not familiar with any previous work such an introduction usually makes me think I’m in for another work wading in the shallow end that’s more preoccupied with being trendy and a cultural dumpster-diving noir (because isn’t everything noir these days?) that read like rejected Sin City pitch than actually offering a worthwhile story. That this was a superficial, preliminary, and ultimately baseless assumption makes it more necessary to mention because I think there are some that have this hipster filter. We like cool, and even more than we despise posers, we hate too cool even more.

The second time around - I rather enjoyed it. The story revolves around a man, Spyder Lee, who after a night at the bar with his best friend Lulu get accosted by what seems to be a demon and is saved by a passing blind woman. After recovering he finds that not only does he wake up to his world, but he finds it inhabited by more than what he used to know.

He learns more from Lulu who he see’s now is without eyes, who has lived in this world since bargaining with the Black Clerks, sphere-crossing tithe collectors, a supernatural mob crew that watched was a bit too enthusiastic about Saw and is like the Twilight Zone’s Twilight Zone inhabitants. Spyder gets some answers but decides to hunt down his savior of the night before for more information and along the way he gets cursed by the demon who tried to bite his head off before. Yes, a rather extreme case of the Mondays but during this portion of the novel I started really settling in; enjoying Kadrey’s chaos that viewed our own reality - even if amiably - as the exceptional, little brother who has to wear a helmet around solid objects. The charm of the books is that when ugly calls us ugly our regularly repartee ready protagonist seems to role with it and in a few chapters Spyder went from cheap, stereotypical fringe of society outsider to becoming something more recognizable without changing a beat. Then you realize, It’s not anti-culture, it’s culture, and this the recognizable draw we see in books by the likes of Morgan, Grimwood, or even China - it is PKD’s future that we see our path is going to intersect with, not that of Clarke, Asimov, or Heinlein, and it is the Spyders and Lulus who will inherit it.. He (Spyder) is not abnormal, he is the reality, a blue collar guy who gets by on his trade, and afterwards throw down drinks with his friends in what is a daily celebration and a simple meeting of shared misery, as that can be seen by the game we see he and Lulu partake in at the bar challenging each other to describe the worst ways to die. Indeed he is not cool at all - he’s a guy who spits off one liners from the mind of a guy who is a lifelong film buff. We know this guy, some of you are this guy, and you aren’t special at all, indeed your chosen identity is to not be exceptional at all. This is exactly the person you want to watch your back if you have business in hell - the guy and gal that cross the border between our world and Hell and don’t even notice, the kind of people who adjust to madness and are not consumed by it, the daily grind favors no reality. Spyder finds himself accompanying the blind assassin who aided him on a job turned personal quest rationalizing that he wants to become blind to the reality, to forget, like he does at times waking up and thinking his former girlfriend is still with him. The assassin, Shrike, takes on a job to retrieve a book of power for one Madame Cinders - a book that lies in Lucifer’s palace, in the middle of a civil war in Hell.

I can see this book being accompanied with descriptors like ‘grit’ and ‘edge’ and an examination of the gutter and alleys, and the underbelly of society, and other comparable senseless book-jacket jargon mentioned with the best intentions, and no doubt if this were the 1980’s and I were ten I might even agree the content is consistent with those supposed accolades; however, my read was that of what is essentially a dungeon crawl from my block to hell with today’s average Joe.

And in this it succeeds.

I like Lulu because I know Lulu. She’s your kid sister who is not blood or someone you share a last name with , she’s chosen family, she’s the girl you would really go to hell for, and while we probably run into a few (too many) of those, she’s the one who would actually come with you. What I’m perhaps most thankful for is the keeping of the harping over the lost love interest element to a minimum. Many writers would have made the presence much heavier and frequent (aka Lana-syndrome) than necessary. Anyone that’s a teen or above understand the feelings Spyder carries with him and that it’s a constant presence without it needing to be mentioned on ever other page. One of the best parts of the books is delivered by Primo, a servant of Cinders, and another member of this quest who tells a story of the Raven King and jubilation and the joy in eating one’s family. All that said, ultimately what probably makes the novel is the Prince of Darkness himself. You won’t be floored as the Devil is possibly one of the few characters who has been utilized in all possible incarnations from Woland, to Twain, every Faust book from Mann to Swanwick and literally hundreds more, but Kadrey’s devil is that friend you have that commits some atrocious crimes but he’s still your boy - the guy you judge by how he does you, not by what he does - and in this novel, it’s not that you just find him amusing, you like this guy. As mentioned before Butcher Bird’s subtitle is that of "A Novel of the Dominion", the implication being there may be more stories to be told and while the book itself isn’t striking me as a book that demands to be read, the further adventures of Spyder is not a notion that I find entirely distasteful.

*passes a smoke to Lulu*

A Noh mask wearing bookseller named Bulgarkov, a condo building Lucifer, Orson Welles’s lost film, Lou Ford references, in a fast talking, brisk, fun read - a novelization of a Cage and Derm go to Hell and yes in the end, it's even not too cool.

Jay Tomio
The Bodhisattva

Elizabeth Moon’s collection of short stories called Moon Flights is a wonderful combination of stories. Moon exemplifies her grasp of science fiction, fantasy and military fiction with this collection of fifteen delightful short stories gathered in this one volume. Each one of these stories has something to tell you, the reader. And each one does so with such subtlety and skill that often you don’t realize what you’ve just been told until you have had time to digest it for a while. Some of them are funny, some are poignant and some are brutal, but all are well-written and engaging.

All but one of these stories has been published before. The first, originally published in 1988 in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, is called “If Nudity Offends You”. She starts off the collection with this mysterious story of an average girl who encounters something completely out of the ordinary and yet still doesn’t consider it important enough to remember.

My favorites of this book are the fantasy shorts that deal with the Ladies’ Aid & Armor Society; of which there are four. The first of these is, And Ladies of the Club where a jealous Queen’s attempt to rid the military of women is turned around on her by some clever financial and magical maneuvering. Then you have No Pain, No Gain which tells a story where schemes of laziness and jealousy which are once again thwarted by the clever ladies of the Aid & Armor Society. The third of these tales is a little different detailing the downfall of a miserly man and a hungry dragon, which is aptly named Fool’s Gold. The last of the Aid & Armor Society stories is called Sweet Charity and hits on several themes like generosity, cheating, thievery and kicking butt while still looking good.

Two of the hardest hitting stories are Hand to Hand and Politics. In Hand to Hand Moon sets up the reader for a thoughtful fall on the nature and meaning of, and reasons for, war. She explores similar topics in the military science fiction of Politics.

The one story that has not been previously published in an anthology or magazine is Say Cheese, an enjoyable story of family pride, growing up and utilizing what you have at hand to make lemonade out of lemons.

Thoughtful and poignant, humorous and silly or just mysterious – Elizabeth Moon seems to enjoy exploring our baser natures and twisting us about to point out some of our most egregious foibles. I highly recommend this collection to anyone who enjoys short stories and even those who generally do not read the short stuff. These tales have something for everyone.

Of late I have kind of been, or more properly stated, returned to a mystery kick and recent excursions into my unread book piles have taken particular notice to book that claim to be hybrid mystery or sleuth novels. From superb novels like The Spiral Labyrinth by Mathews Hughes to exploring the world of Chen and Liz Williams, and too countless debuts of late in what seems on the surface to be a new fad as two pools of writers see crossover opportunities in each other’s depths or something no doubt much more innocent in simply being a combination of a writer’s love for both mediums, consciously or not.

Among the more recent of these books is a one Nathalie Mallet entitled The Princes of the Golden Cage. It’s a pseudo-Ottoman backdrop taking place entirely in the city, the seat of power of Telfar Empire ruled by the Ban dynasty. The central element and the novel’s most interesting facet is the implementation of the Kafes system (unfortunately spelled out on the first page for the reader), a system that places and confines all sons of the reigning Sultan into one portion of the palace until one of them ascends to the throne. The choice of the next ruler is not at all reliant on order of birth, or necessarily the station of one’s mother, but is tabulation based on a formula overseen by the Vizier of the “cage” and the Sultan himself that make up an updated registry that the Prince’s can follow their current rank. Aside from whatever personal or politically motivated preferences of the Vizier and Sultan, these ranks fluctuates on the action of the Princes themselves. The Cage is a Darwin daycare where fratricide is the norm as princes vie to improve their standing even if it’s just to position themselves in the esteem of brothers who are the favorites. It’s like a horse race but the horses are betting and are the bookies Others, like Mallet’s protagonist, Amir, chooses a different route. One of the more studios of his sibling (so he thinks), he strives to achieve a state of that of the undistinguished. He walks the line of exuding the presence of a threat yet not being so weak to be viewed as easy prey. He does this so much - and until the occurrences of this novel - so well, it actually assimilates into his worldview of himself which proves most dangerous in his environment. The crux of the story is that he is a woken up one night and asked to help investigate particularly peculiar death that turns into a series of such that seem supernatural in nature. This sets him on a path that will take him off of his average path of safety and in a certain sense makes him start living a life. It is more than interesting that he essentially has the same day-to-day life style of his two immediate neighbors, brothers that are more or less hermits and are both - to some degree - mildly delusional.

Amir’s journey to freedom is at time interesting as the evolution occurs sentence by sentence. In the beginning all the 117 inhabitants of the cage are his brothers but as the novel progresses he clearly starts separating them, and thus himself in his mind. The entourage of the Sultan’s current favorite to ascend, Ibrahim, no longer are his (Amir’s) brothers, they are Ibrahim’s. I think the reoccurring tendency to think the Amir is an idiot isn’t as much a product of questionable writing but is probably and hopefully and intentional effect to keep the reader mumbling to the pages as we would chastise our dumb young kid cousin or brother. We are supposed to envision ourselves as another brother, Darius, a more typical fantasy protagonist (and thus thankfully not so in this book) and while I think perhaps our attachment to Amir is a bit too overtly intended and threatens to be more than an annoyance but I think for the most part it remains bearable.

I find that in most whodunits authors can’t help but to smile at us at some point nearly in the novel and The princes of The Princes Golden Cage is no different in this work. There is a single line in this book that should allow you figure out who or what the antagonist is. I certainly didn’t know the details or motivations exactly but I knew where the path would lead eventually and admittedly perhaps the fun is to be proven right as much as it is to be surprised.

I fear when a book in this type of backdrop is written and is described it is inevitable that it will be tagged with The Arabian Nights wrap which is a bit like saying Open Water II reminds you of Moby Dick because there is like water…and boats and stuff. For the same reason every bloke or shelia who writes a street level story is Dickensian and god forbid you have Hell in your story because you’re obviously channeling Dante. At not time in my reading did The Princes of the Golden Cage invoke the Arabian Nights, though it may spur thoughts of what some think - IE haven’t read - the Arabian Nights represents. What Mallet does have on her hands is what I’d call a quick, in-and out read. As I said prior, the story doesn’t leave the city and follows essentially one character performing a single task and along the way we are introduced to what may be an underdeveloped cast, but is naturally and correctly limited due to the POV choice which I think is reasonably kept to. At times it is hard to convince the reader that Amir can be so petulant at times as we are no really immersed into the world as much as we are just along for the ride as it occurs. We are indeed told the why, but I’m not sure if the reader feel the stakes as much as we are simply told what the stakes are. - I’m not walking in his shoes, I‘m told what brand he wears and where Amir is walking. It’s a brisk enough read that I kept on reading partly due to interest, and partly due to the economy of the experience. It’s a read that you become aware of early on that won’t astound you upon conclusion but neither did I feel inclined to give up on it either. In some sense it’s much like Amir - good enough to not get tossed after every chapter, but not at all threatening the upper-hierarchy of my bookshelf either.

There are some rather annoying elements in the novel and to some could represent deathblows to the reading experience. First, just about everybody we are introduced to via Amir is somebody else, or the long lost relative of, so much so I wanted to ask all of them if any of them knew Ratchett was indeed Cassetti! The problem is that it somehow occurs without the characters ever achieving a state of being multifaceted. Secondly, the ending is so telegraphed and the invitation of it by the antagonist seemed so stressed and bolded in my mind that it invites you to think if the read suddenly shifted to a YA novel. I’d be remiss to say it isn’t an absolutely cringe worthy sequence of events and due to being the climax of the novels ends up perhaps unfortunately marring the work as a whole. All in all The Princes of The Golden Cage was a solid one night read and at times has a charming, mischievous quality, and possibly even hits its mark, I just don’t think I’m that target.

In a slight confession, what prompted me to take a look at the book is that I found that I had multiple copies that were sporting different covers The book I received first was the galley and pimped a cover marked for solicitation purposes only and I remember that it caught my eye the day I received it. In the past I have stated that I’d never buy a book because of the cover but I would also not even give a second look to a book because of a cover. The finished version of the book sports a real stock 70’s and 80’s Deryniesque look that would be a strong model representative of what I wouldn’t buy. The first cover is vivid, atmospheric, inviting adventure in a city of opulence, and an intoxicating, basking in forbidden romance representing freedom. I preferred the latter but perhaps the one ultimately used is more honest.

Jay Tomio
The Bodhisattva

Zoran Zivkovic’s novel The Fourth Circle opens quite simply with the following sentence:


"The Circle."


This simplicity and that geometric shape carry throughout the remainder of the book as the mystery of the circle is obsessed over by a rather disparate group of characters (many of whom are well-known historical figures.)

There is Rama, a feminine computer program and her creator, who lives in a remote Buddhist temple.

The esteemed Sherlock Holmes and his trustworthy assistant Dr. Watson.

Archimedes (I told him not to touch my circles), Stephen Hawking, and Tesla.

There are also dog-like animals, spherical creatures, and a giant radio telescope set to permanently monitor signals from one specific cosmic system.

And as befits these unique characters, each story thread exhibits its own distinctive voice, tone, and style, so that the book almost reads like a collection of short stories, all of which are unified by the ubiquitous circle.

The clarity and simplicity of Zivkovic’s prose was both beautiful and deceptive. More than once I found myself re-reading a passage because it’s seeming straightforwardness contained subtle connections.

The structure of the book was a bit unorthodox in that five more chapters followed the epilogue, but those closing chapters revolving around Holmes and Watson were my favorites. Although I’ve not read any of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s work, Zivkovic acknowledges in the afterword that those chapters were written as a pastiche. Watson’s enlightenment as to the significance of the circle parallels the reader’s own as both are led simultaneously and inexorably to the tale’s end.

By that end, the recurring theme of the round aspect is literally brought full circle (sorry, I couldn’t help myself) as we meet in the end the mysterious character we met in the beginning. The rather anti-climatic finale of The Fourth Cicle will, no doubt, disappoint some readers, but I found the uncomplicated ending to be appropriate. Simple and circular.

This is going to be a short review as the original story is only 40 pages long. If you are familiar with the term "B" as in B movie then you will have an idea what Joe Lansdale's style is like. He is proudly a B-movie writer and very good at it. His only intention is to entertain the pants off of you and by the end of this story you'll be sitting there in your underwear. Lansdale deserves more recognition and hopefully he gets it.

Bubba Ho-Tep is about an aging Elvis and a black JFK defeating a mummy that is killing patients at a retirement home. Elvis, years ago, was tiring of his life so he hired an Elvis impersonator to take his place. It was this impersonator that died on the toilet in 1977 and the real Elvis was able to live his life. But since the only thing he knew how to do was be Elvis, he became an Elvis impersonator. During a concert performance he fell off the stage, broke his hip and was placed in the rest home.

The story opens with Elvis contemplating his life and how impotent he feels. While wandering the halls one night he meets and becomes friends with Jack, a black man who believes that he is JFK. He claims to have survived the assassination attempt, been died black to hide his true identity, screwed over by LBJ and left to rot in the nursing home. They begin to suspect that something is amiss at the nursing home and set out to investigate.

Through the amazing conciseness that only a short story can provide they quickly figure out that there is a mummy haunting the nursing home and killing off the residents, stealing their souls to draw power. Since the residents are old and dying the mummy only has nominal strength. The mummy has certain logic to his chosen hunting ground, rather then go after younger bodies and who could potentially destroy it, he kills the elderly since they can’t fight back. Once they die everyone suspects natural causes and the bed is filled again with a new body.

Elvis and JFK, now having a purpose in life, become visibly stronger. They plan a showdown to kill the mummy and set about implementing their plan. The climax of the story is sufficiently packed with tension, suspense, action and in one simple, touching moment between Elvis and JFK a lot of emotion and sub-text.

Except for the show down there isn’t a lot of action in Bubba Ho-Tep. It has a lot of internal dialog and exposition and every aspect of it is handled deftly. The prominent theme throughout the book is how we cast our old to the curb and view them as a burden in a society that favors the young. Youth vs. Wisdom, an age old battle. But on its surface it’s a lot of fun where Elvis and JFK team up and kick a mummy’s ass.


-Brian Lindenmuth

Those of us that enjoy reading,whether novels or in this case reviews of novels, we are often confronted with certain commons adjectives used to describe these works or characters within them, as often misused as it is properly used, these term's origins derive from past influential writers, or their works. We all know these words, one is Picaresque, which judging from the frequency one encounters this word in reviews you would think every other work is an example of a Picaresque work. The term of Spanish origin (picaro) is used to denote a novel chronicling a rogue character (not a criminal mind you, a fine line but relevant) often times humorously, often times, but not exclusive to autobiographical narratives, relying on wits, not personal capitol, and often conveying vividly a message about social castes. Novels that many would recognize purposely written in this style would be Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or beatnik Kerouac’s On the Road. Another example of such a word is Dickensian, which is a term that seemingly every review of a book that takes place in London is used. The term of course is used in regards to characteristics associated with works by Dickens. Another word (and finally to the point) is Borgesian, which is derives from Jorge Luis Borges, mid-20th century writer and sketcher who penned Historia universal de la Infamia, which is now considered a highly influential, landmark of modern fiction containing short stories and essays and depicting stories whose subject are often of the unsavory variety, whether pirates, dictators, or common thugs or charlatans, involved in tales of violence, vengeance, spinning tales containing distortions of history/fantasy and harsh realism, and has to be mentioned in discussions pertaining to the influence if not the origin of the Magic Realism movement even though by later definition the broader post-modernist description is probably more apt.

Unlike many mislabeled efforts the novel that is the subject of this review is Borgesian, down to the title, yet more importantly its author, Rhys Hughes, in a admittedly audacious attempt, perfectly finds balance with his offering of homage to the work that was a great influence to him and leaving his own unique mark. What does Rhys Hughes bring to this classic? The incomparable John Clute remarks in his finishing words within the forward:

I’m going to briefly touch on the various subjects of Mr. Hughes first. To begin A New Universal History of Infamy, Mr. Hughes, following the tradition of the original, offers seven short stories, each chronicling and fantastically embellishing the exploits of infamous figures. The first is entitled “Brutal Buddha” Baron Von Ungern-Sternberg, a story that derives from the historical figure Baron Roman Fyodorovich Ungern von Sternberg, a German sent by his government to Mongolia to establish military presence in who became infamous for his brutality and tactics of torture, who later carved out a personal empire, as a Warlord, and strangely enough desired to reestablish the Chinese Qing Dynasty. Mr. Hughes spins his tale of the same man, driven by Buddha to the degree that he did the opposite of the religious doctrines to prove his belief. As brutal as his historical counterpart, and Hughes spin on his morale motivation, levied through brutality and torture, definitely sets the tone for the rest of the novel, although admittedly it was my least favorite of the short stories.

The second, called the “Honest Liar” and deals Denis Zachaire a historical “transmuters” or alchemists of the middle ages, and there quest to turn other objects to gold. The short story tells the story of some of the famous practioners, whether professional charlatans, or true intellectuals who dedicated themselves into unlocking the secret. It also tells how Inquisition viewed alchemy as crimes of sorcery and the justice branded by the infamous organization, but Mr. Hughes of course levies his spin, which actually makes so much sense one might mistake it as truth:

The stories title character is again a historical figure that sought like many others the Philosopher’s Stone, which is known in history/fantasy as a legendary substance that could not only turn mundane metals to gold, but also grant eternal life. Denis was a man who in history pretended to find this stone, but of course did not and died in relative obscurity and supposed poverty. Mr. Hughes offers another conclusion.

The third story, “Chewer of Hearts” is of Francois L’Olonnais, and tells of the origin of the buccaneer. In the very beginning of the story he differentiates to the reader he is not writing of a truly mythic buccaneers popularized to us in movies but true buccaneers:

Note Hughes states “mortal” behaviour, not moral behaviour, there is no place for morals among the infamous, and Francois was no exception. Francois, a noted ruthless pirate who among other things, while interrogating a prisoner, and unsatisfied with the given information cut the man’s chest open and ripped out his heart and began to eat it. The other prisoners afterwards could be described as garrulous (that’s real history, not Hughes adlib).

The subject of the fourth story, “Trader of Doom” Basil Zaharoff, is about a man who played a huge role in history from mid 1800’s to the 1930’s from starting in essence as a pimp in turkey, a major arms dealer of both sides of conflicts, being on the ground floor on Monaco casino’s, a oil mogul, and marrying a former Dukes wife, Zarharoff is known historically by such titles as “merchant of death” and the “mystery man of Europe”, and another title, Hughes proposes, which is slightly more enviable, perhaps the richest man who ever lived.

Francisco Solano Lopez is the subject of the next piece, ”The Worm Supreme”, a former President of Paraguay (1862-1870) his true nature in history is skewed, some thought of him as an obscenely arrogant, who fashioned himself “the Napoleon of the South”, or in stark contrast a symbol against imperialism. It cannot be said Lopez passed without impact however:

The next story was one of my favorites within A New Universal History of Infamy, and was based on famous; pardon me, INFAMOUS, highwaymen in England during the middle Ages. Hughes gives us a run down on many colorful characters in the segment entitled, “The Worst Hero”, before focusing on Dick Turpin, a figure of some romantic worth as a highwayman in English tales. Mr. Hughes says of the bandit from Essex:

The Maddest King, about the reign of Henri Christophe, the former slave and later president/King of Haiti (1811-1820). Within these seven stores, some better than others, admittedly, Hughes achieves what I definitely say as a compliment, and that is not embarrassing himself in his homage, that would not doubt be closely scrutinized due to the title of the novel alone. Hughes found a successful combination of humor, wit, violence, while adding his dosage of the fantastic and successfully accomplishes exactly what Mr. Clute sums up nicely in the forward:

The next segment, as in Borges original is the main story. Borges’ version was entitled “Streetcorner Man”, Hughes’ “Streetcorner Mouse.” This was Borges’ first original story and one that is he is very famous (not infamous) for. Borges' tale, playing on the stereotypical of young “knife wielding, thugs, congregating in a dance hall of his Argentinean heritage, Hughes use the opportunity to do the same with his version, using Welsh elements. Hughes’ “Streetcorner Mouse” epitomizes the body of A New Universal History of Infamy, and that is Hughes gives ample credence to the spirit of the story, but drives the still synonymous plot, with an incredibly imaginative story that could be described as a Welsh/Borges story “through the looking glass”, in a Welsh Pub amply named the Tall Story, whose patrons are shape-shifters. In a musicians duet-duel, Rhys engaging narrative is evident:

The next portion of the novel, still paralleling the original structure is Hughes’ “ET AL”, his answer to Borges’ “Etcetera”, and is a collection of shorts. These works are original writings by Hughes although he does as Borges did attribute or dedicate them to other writers, in Hughes’ case to the current author of such wonderful works as Secret Life, Jeff VanderMeer. The first of which is among a few other sections is my favorite story within the novel entitled “City of Blinks” which is an incredible story simply yet completely describing the checks and balances systems of a state that is governed by a system of mass surveillance and brilliantly tell us how simply, even if against probability that it can fall. Really an example of an incredible piece of writing. Next, “The Landscape Player”, a 2-page effort in which a footnote alone about a musician’s former gig locations provides readers a certain familiarity (Atlantis, Chaud-melle, Ambergris, Mirenburg, and, Viriconium) in setting. Following that, the “The Spanish Cyclops”, a tale of a giant eyepiece and a whirlpool. “The Unsubtle Cages” seems Lovecraftian but is dedicated to Thomas Ligotti, another extremely talented writer. Celia the Impaler, a 2-page erotic story about a woman who has made six of the Seven Wonders of the World succomb to her, and her attempts at the last, The Great Pyramid of Cheops. “Alone with Longwinded Souls” a supernatural story ascribed to DF Lewis. “Monkeybreath” (Halitosis Simians) is the name of the next short, and a condition in the mold of an ascribed to Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases, an anthology categorizing strange conditions that was edited by the aforementioned VanderMeer and Mark Roberts, with contributions including a virtual who’s who in the industry, Mieville, Moorcock, Gaiman, Moore, Baker, Chapman etc. The “ET AL” portion comes to a conclusion with a paragraph,“The Exactitude of Theology”.

The last portion of the nove,l like the original offers 3 stories. The First “Finding the Book of Sand”, along with already dsicussed “The City of Blinks” and the forthcoming “Ictus Purr” are the stories I enjoyed the most. “Finding the Book of Sand” which is a book written by Borges about a book with infinite pages, that Hughes’ uses as the subject of story of that book, to weave a remarkable story behind the scientific qualities such a book would possess such as the capability to serve as a cheap, unlmited energy source burning the pages (that were infitnite) which served to heat a water source into steam that powers a eletrical generator. This is remarkably witty as in the original story the narrator decided not to follow such a course as he thought perhaps, due to his thinking that an infinite number of pages may eventually “choke the world with smoke”. The narrator in Hughes’ version knows otherswise however:

This story is remarkably entertaining, and if you desire to know what happens when you throw a book with a infinite amount of page...well your going to have to read the book:) The second to last story is ”The Hyperacusis of Chumbley Mucker” a story ascribed to Science Fiction writer John Sladek about a boy, Chumbley, whose treatment of highly sensitive hearing causes an apocalyptical ending. The final story and as mentioned one of my favorites is “Ictus Purr”, whose contents are given warning by its title “A Parody of Myself in the Style of You”. This short is about a band that is recruited to take a gig in another universe in an effort to deliver them a Moon. The members of the band include a drummer Huw Rees (Rhys Hughes), a florescent haired singer Neil, Kate, who played instruments she found in tombs of ancient monarchs, and the lead guitarist Richard Cowell, who among other things grew the best marijuana in the region. “Ictus Purr” through shear imagination affectively caps and substantiates that although A New Universal History of Infamy is without questioning homage of Borges’ masterpiece, it is also more importantly also a masterpiece by Hughes.

Although I know this book won’t appeal to the strictly genre-fantasy fans, it should appeal to those that recognize magnificent, imaginative literature (which is what I though fantasy was anyway, but I digress). A New Universal History of Infamy puts Mr. Hughes on my must read list, and I recommend this novel to all, and my final grade for the collection is a 9. The read is such an experience I can only detract from the grade would be because some of the stories didn’t match the height some of the ones I enjoyed the most. Truly a rare read, to Mr. Hughes I would say, quoting his character Jackfruit Burst, “nice hashish, by the way. Thanks.”

Jay
The Bodhisattva

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