Asakiyume mita

sovay linked me to a story from 2012, "Aquatica," by MC Clark, in which a male anglerfish's effort to avoid his own biological drive and the blandishments of a female anglerfish lead to profound conversations. Really gripping story that creates a full, meaningful vision of the anglerfish life cycle--which is one of those life cycles that seems really alien from a mammalian point of view. It's easy to sympathize with the male anglerfish's desire to outrun biological determinism, but it's not merely survival he's after--as the female anglerfish points out, death comes either way--it's wanting to perceive or understand something more than just the cycle.

* * *

On the way to visit my dad on Christmas Day a small murmuration passed over our car. It was breathtaking--thinking about it makes me stop breathing. Dark bodies, wings, pale sky--a tessellating collectivity. Then on our way back later in the day, we saw bobcats in a meadow. Bobcats are so strange, if you're used to domestic cats: they're like someone has taken a domestic cat and given it extra-strong, extra muscular legs... and reduced its tail.

* * *

Saw this and wasn't sure at first whether it was a branch on the path or the shadow of a branch.



(It was a shadow)

Quick! Before the day closes.

"Where Oaken Hearts Do Gather," by Sarah Pinsker (Uncanny March–April 2021)

I came to this via purlewe (thank you!) It's done as posts on LyricSplainer, a site for talking about folksongs--in this case, the folksong "Where Oaken Hearts Do Gather," which has many variants (of course), across all of which a man's literal heart is taken out and replaced with an acorn... Dr. Rydell wrote a paper about it back in 2002 and posted more about it on his blog, was even investigating a town that might have been the site of the original story ... but then he seems to have disappeared from the world of scholarship and the interwebs. So reports Henry Martyn, one of the commenters on LyricSplainer, who is following in Dr. Rydell's footsteps ... though one of the other commenters remarks that Henry Martyn's own last post to the site seems to have been a couple of years ago...

I enjoyed all the fun ballad-adjacent handles the LyricSplainer site users had, like Rhiannononymous, BarrowBoy, and BonnieLass67. Also, the author Sarah Pinsker is also a singer-songwriter, and among the links to [fictional] versions of "Where Oaken Hearts Do Gather" by groups like Steeleye Span and the Decemberists, there's one actual live link to a version by a group called Moby K. Dick. Nice touch, Ms. Pinsker. If you enjoy folksongs and all the paraphernalia surrounding them, this is a story for you. All you folks who were reviewing Ellis Peter’s Black is the Colour of My True-Love’s Heart, if you haven't read this already, give it a try!

"Letters From Mt. Monroe Elementary, Third Grade," by Sarah Pauling (Diabolical Plots 3 September 2024)

Beginning in 1967, "a mere five years after Beacon Day," when Earth first received notice that a generation ship was heading its way from a faraway star, kids in an elementary school in Michigan have been writing letters to the Pilgrims, as the aliens are known. The letters extend to 2024 (the Pilgrims aren't due to arrive until 2090), and it's funny and touching to see the various preoccupations and stances of the children over time--also fun to see younger siblings appearing. One third-grader from 1967 later becomes the class teacher. One child describes a book she found in her mom's car that features a romance between a Pilgrim and a woman whose evil husband is trying to take over her ranch:

she was out riding her horse and when they started kissing all the rain turned into space diamonds that let them read each other’s minds. Do you think that will happen a lot when you get here?

But maybe most touching of all is the fact that in spite of the suspiciousness of some of the kids' letters, the framing of the story is such that we understand the coming of this generation ship has NOT been met with an all-out scramble of military preparedness. The assertion, never directly articulated, that we might--just possibly--welcome an alien generation ship is a beautiful statement of faith in humanity.

"A Theory of Missing Affections," by Renan Bernardo (Clarkesworld, September 2024)

Vanessa Fogg put me onto this story when she described it as a "fascinating story that considers big questions and ideas." The author describes it as "a tale about two sisters separated by distance, by their conflicting views on life, and by the devices left by an extinct alien species." One sister is into scientific investigation of the aliens; the other is an adherent of a religion that worships them as gods. The story is told from the first sister's perspective, and I confess I was waiting with bated irritation to see what was going to happen. But the author neatly dodged a facile ending, coming up with one that was emotionally satisfying. Similarly, the extinct aliens, who we're initially told "cherished torture" evolve in our consciousness as the viewpoint sister comes to understand them better. It's a carefully built story--nicely done.

If the three stories I've read so far are any indication, this issue of Clarkesworld is crackerjack, but the story that's really blown me away is "Embracing the Movement," by Cristina Jurado, translated by Sue Burke (who writes a little about her process here).

It's the story of a powerful, intelligent collective alien species trying, with increasing frustration, to communicate with a lone explorer who, as described and seen by the aliens, reads very human. The communication issues and disjunction between the lone "sister sojourner" and the alien collective reminds me of China Miéville's Embassytown.

Most beings who detect our presence shy away, fearing the reach of our offensive capacity: the destructive power of our attack system is legendary throughout the galaxy. And yet you drew near in your mediocre artifact and initiated an amazing dance.

The aliens invite (detain?) our lone sister sojourner for a visit and attempt to show her their grandeur:

Few have visited our refuge: consider yourself regaled.

We find out plenty about the aliens as they do their regaling. For example. . .

Despite our reputation, I assure you we are sensitive. How else could we have prospered if not by caring for each of our sisters? The union of our swarm is only possible through the concern and attention with which we treat every one of our members

But then too...

We are the sentries of our hives, porters of justice, and exterminators of hideous, pillaging, corrupt, squandering vermin.

Our morality is impeccable, although that may be hard to see except from our viewpoint.

The aliens describe their communication method--patterns and formations:

If anger inundates us, we compose an undulating surface, a flowing liquid force that manifests itself as breaking waves and even as tides. At times sadness possesses us, and our organisms pulsate in a fractal of fluorescent scales.

If you would like to see how this first-contact ends, click on the link at the top of the entry, or, what the hell, here it is again.

So far I've also read two other stories, also worthy of your time:

Yukimi Ogawa, "The Shroud for the Mourners."
In a society stratified by body patterns and colors, as well as andoid/non-android status, a mysterious medical condition has arisen. The solution to this mystery involves honoring personhood and the dead, and finding ways to make society a little more humane.

Jiang Bo (trans. Andy Dudak), "Face Changing," a cat-and-mouse story in which financial police officer Xu Haifeng is always one step behind cybercriminal Huang Huali. You may, like me, be a little exasperated by Xu's unjustified self-confidence and dubious decisions, but the financial cybercrime aspect and the dystopic all-present state was very interesting to me (LOL), and I found the end very satisfying.