3. Gaslighted [Slappy the Ventriloquist Dummy vs. Aloysius Pendergast] by R. L. Stine vs. Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

I dreaded reading this because I am not a fan of horror. It is a genre I am perhaps oversensitive to, one that lingers with me for days if I am lucky. A couple of years ago, for example, I read a short story by George R. R. Martin, “The Monkey Treatment” in The Year’s Best Science Fiction: First Annual Collection. That one gave me difficulty sleeping for a few weeks after and some of the imagery still haunts me.

In the case of “Gaslighted” it was not so bad. I was not affected by it like a horror story but still found much of it to be a difficult and unpleasant read because, as the title suggests, Aloysius Pendergast is indeed being gaslighted and that is almost always distressing even when I don’t know the characters concerned.

I was disappointed by this story not being really Aloysius vs. Slappy, in that Slappy’s appearance here is entirely as a figment invented through the true villainous doctor’s experiments in memory manipulation. Although being a horror anti-fan of course I have not read any of the Goosebumps books. Maybe this is true to Slappy’s usual presentation. But I had been looking forward to seeing such an excessively heroic character as Pendergast take on the evil machinations of an actual ventriloquist dummy.

Pendergast’s own exploits recounted here put me in mind of a reel of rejected X-Files plots, perhaps for being too outlandishly extravagant. I could not help but hear his speaking voice as played by David Hyde-Pierce, which I side might be fitting for this urbane, lethal, super strong albino FBI agent from New Orleans. I was a bit curious to read more of his adventures but am wary of how they might shade macabre enough to fall into the horrific. Plus despite a strong sense of adventure showing through it seems like he may just be a bit too perfect to be a satisfying read - this being why the narrative of his series was so plausible as the fantasy trauma retreat it was being presented as.

I also feel a need to mark hesitance regarding this character being from New Orleans. A place regarded in American folkloric and media culture as a source of dark magic and sinister happenings, it is not surprising this deliberately exotic albino FBI agent should hail from there but it is discomfiting. As a trend in fiction, as though that region is having its history washed away and re-purposed into the national mystery zone. Basically, African American culture and others raided for mysticism to fuel the adventures of white characters.

Chapters 10-13

About half-way through. Still no sign of the promised ghost aunt. Beginning to think she won’t show. Meanwhile our protagonist finds the children growing on her with their quirky damage. Continues to feel like she is being fitted into a narrative she did not ask or want to be moulded to (new dresses appearing in her wardrobe, persuasion that gardening is her true passion, that sort of thing). Sometimes when I am reading this feels almost like a horror narrative.

Also meanwhile, spending time with their handsome, son-of-an-earl father who is still grieving his wife after five years. But he does bring with him the stirrings of mystery plot. Had to remind myself not to scoff at the hint of supernaturalism in the colour-changing stained glass window that doesn’t need restoring, since this is after all a ghost aunt mystery (minus one ghost aunt). Aaand casting suspicion on the Duke’s obsessive quest to enact the ritual of his family’s legend, plus the vast sums of mysteriously obtained money funding this. He’s even built himself a Stepford village! I suspect the resolution of this plot will be to clear the Duke of all suspicion, perhaps with some otherworldly intervention.

Bit of US writer feeling when the kids are served cider at lunch, since in most of the world unqualified cider is an alcoholic beverage (details I latch onto). I was a bit gratified by the protagonist drawing upon her computer expertise to impress others and make helpful mystery-solving suggestions. Mainly because I’ve been worried the fulfilment of this story will involve her casting off her successful computing business to take on the roles of wife and gardener. But not so gratified by the ‘not like other girls’ undertone. Paired with love interest being proud of his shamefully-for-an-earl’s-son practical interests in life. But it does improve my reception of the romancey togetherness.

[sometimes I gotta remind myself I don’t have a policy on spoiler or non-spoiler info, or writing in a recappy or non-recappy style, although if I think it might be something a lot of people would be concerned about spoilers for and not have read maybe I should use a cut]

Now up to beginning of chapter nine. Has mostly been an exercise in getting introduced to the cast of the duke’s household, who are of course nearly all charmingly eccentric.

Especially, persuading our protagonist to be roped into the role of restorative gardener and out of the role of touring vacationer. This, mostly accomplished by an onslaught of British aristocratic charm and an appeal to the authority of the series-regular Pym sisters.

At this point the single most obnoxious guest has been eliminated as a source of unpleasant moments by a grave injury - so presumably the mystery aspects of the story can get going - and the heads of the household have departed to engage in PR damage control.

So we also have the lead and the guy who I’m sure will be her love interest ‘alone’ to work on restoring this isolated old manor. And she can I suppose work on unlocking the tragic mysteries of his past and get to know his precocious, worldly children.

So far it really feels like the protagonist is being fitted up for a romance and mystery narrative whether she is interested in one or not. And that, along with the romanticising of pastoral British aristocracy, is a bit distasteful.

Started reading this on Tuesday afternoon before my shift. I borrowed it from my mother’s collection although I’m fairly sure this copy is previously unread, and I’ve no clue by what path it ended up there. I think I would not otherwise have picked this book up to read, but then broadening my horizons is precisely why I am interspersing her books into my reading.

If I wanted to have fun with genre labelling, I might call this a paranormal romance. But I think this book both pre-dates and belongs to a different tradition than most books which currently bear the paranormal romance label. From the buzz I looked up, it seems what I can expect from this book might best be described as an ultra-cosy mystery. With romance. This story is thick with the scent of romance being laid out, and I’m waiting to see if I will love or hate that.

At the moment I’m only at the start of Chapter 3, 34 pages into this 290 page novel.

What I’m dreading: this is a ghost aunt mystery series set in Britain but written by a US author. I’m worried it is going to romanticise imperial England, as for example in the love story told in the prologue.

"In the first gray light of dawn she saw the ship, the great four-master bearing spices and gold and the treasure of her heart.["]

Discomfiting having this act of looting drawn so casually into a tale of romanticism, like it’s just a neutral or good thing that happens. I’m not sure if there was a second specific moment that further aroused my worry, but the overall tone so far seems to be idealising England as embodying a sort of pastoral innocence against the City that is America.

The other thing I dread is how exactly this might pan out as a romance, what tropes will be deployed. That’s likely to have a very strong influence on whether I am happy with the outcome of this book, or angry.

For the beginning there is very much a sense of the story being laid out like cards, or a stage being set. We have Emma Porter, senior in a computing company who is taking bafflingly[1] well being left by her open-relationship partner of 15 years for a younger woman.

[1] Everyone in her life is baffled, and so is she.

We have Derek Harris, widower with a couple of kids who happens to fit the description Emma briefly daydreamed about, and who is set to engage in prophecy-related restoration work at home of the titular duke. AND whose son apparently has been wearing himself out doing the housekeeper’s work for years to protect his father and keep the nagging sister-in-law at bay, who is fixated on the restoration as promising a supernatural salvation that I would say is sure to bring bitter disappointment except the whole series is premised on ghost aunt so maybe it will happen.

And their paths are surely set to intersect, as Emma is redirected to this same location, drawn from the prologue, by elderly twin sisters whose synchronous speech and manner speaks so much of an author giggling to herself that I had to look up online and confirm they are regulars, these Pym sisters.

That’s where I’m up to. Mostly I’m nervous to continue reading rather than excited; there’s so much potential for this to proceed on paths I detest that the anticipation of Aunt Dimity and The Duke failing me dominates my attitude toward the book so far.

26. “The Gate of Ghosts” by Karen Joy Fowler

I approached this story warily. On the one hand, Karen Joy Fowler has a strong reputation among people whose opinions on sf I respect. On the other, the only story of hers I’d read previously, “The Lake Was Full Of Artificial Things” in the third of these anthologies, did nothing for me. And on a third hand - if I may be so bold - the nature of her reputation suggests “The Lake Was Full Of Artificial Things” could be representative of her work, so while she might be an excellent writer, she might also be one who doesn’t suit my taste.

So, reading this was a bit of mental tug-of-war between yes and no as I was a bit distracted by trying to form an opinion of the writer at the same time as the story.

What we have is a young family, white American woman, Chinese American man, and their toddler daughter. It seems like the mother is overprotective, but the daughter says there’s a special place she goes to, which no one else perceives or believes…

You know, I forgot to say this isn’t science fiction. Not something that bothers me, but I like to mention it because the title of the book says these are science fiction stories.

I had to take some time after reading to appreciate what went on here. Possibly it helped having people on IM to whom I could dump my thoughts immediately; the act of doing so prompted re-evaluation.

My immediate reaction was that this story is ambiguous in just the way I don’t like, when not only interpretation of events but even events themselves are unclear. Like with “Chance” earlier in this collection, I tend to feel that if something as basic as ‘what happened’ is indeterminate, the story may as well not be there (I tend to react similarly against stories which end in memory wiping such that for the characters effectively nothing happened).

Thinking about it a bit more I realised there is quite enough here for me to decide what this story is, to decipher it from within itself. Something I still don’t find to be true of “Chance”. “The Gate of Ghosts” as I see it is divided into three parts, three different characters telling their stories of what it is to go to ‘another place’. First Margaret, seeing her life, her relationship with her daughter Jessica, and what it is in her past that brings her to fear and why she sees death. Second Mei, Jessica’s paternal grandmother, telling a story of China that serves as oblique warning to Jessica. Finally, Jessica herself and what happens to her.

I still don’t know if I like this story but I am surely impressed by it.

24. “Down and Out in the Year 2000” by Kim Stanley Robinson

The backdrop makes this science fiction, but I don’t think it needed to be. This is a story of poverty in America as the world falls apart in war, which it feels like I’ve read five times already in this book alone. It could have been a shared world piece with Swanwick’s “Covenant of Souls”, frex.

Normally when I say something like that I mean it as some sort of savage criticism, but I liked this story. And I liked it despite its science fiction elements, not because of them. It could easily have been a work of contemporary non-genre fiction, although maybe I say that because I assume the 1980s were more similar to the 2010s in joblessness, urban decay and unrest than is justified. But I do think it’s so.

The only characters whose ethnicity is marked in this story are white. Something I see too rarely which says to me the great majority of characters in this piece are people of colour (if I had to put money on it, I’d say black, because various contextual clues).

I liked that a lot for selfish reasons - it’s a technique I’ve intended to use myself, so it’s gratifying to see it work for communicating character ethnicity while centring on their own perspective. But of course KSR is himself a white guy so it’s possible this is badly messed up [1] and I’m just failing to see it.

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[1] Such as the one story in this collection centred on black Americans being also the one story that is about falling on hard times and being poor in America. Particularly in that by being so as a science fiction story it immediately stands out and captures interest, whereas as a work of ‘non-genre’ or crime(!!!)[2] fiction it might get lost in the shuffle.

[2] In this context I would count slotting in well amongst crime stories against “Down and Out in the Year 2000”[3], whereas normally I would be all over a good crime / sf hybrid. The problem is that this isn’t one of those, and reading it as crime fiction is clearly the wrong approach. But, that genre is one where it is much more normal to encounter the pattern “black guy hits hard times, takes to selling pot to get cash together for the sake of the sick woman in his life”. The only thing that’s missing is the crisis-crash-object lesson pattern that’s put me off non-detective crime fiction, and is the reason it doesn’t quite fit.

[3] Just realised that as I write this I am equidistant from the year of story setting as the story was in its year of publication.

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What I’m saying, I suppose, is that in isolation I find this a pretty excellent story. Engaging, well-written, well-characterised in ways most I’ve read fall short on. But in broader context the association of blackness-poverty-failed-by-system, while reflecting the reality of the world as it is, stands out among a lack of science fiction positing alternative possibilities.