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Book Review: Temporary Planets for Transitory Days: Poems of Mykol Ranglen by Albert Wendland

cover art for Temporary Planets for Transitory Days: Poems of Mykol Ranglund

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Temporary Planets for Transitory Days: Poems of Mykol Ranglen by Albert Wendland

Dog Star Books, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-947879-18-8

Available: Paperback, Kindle

 

Mykol Ranglen, adventurer, talented finder of rare Clips left behind by the Airafanes, keeper of secrets, and central character of Albert Wendland’s science fiction books The Man Who Loved Alien Landscapes (2014) and In a Suspect Universe (2018) has always been a poet. In the first book, he describes one alien landscape as “dazzle” running through “the dew-laced savanna” with “scents of basil and almond” as the grass makes “soft cracking sounds like static electricity.” In the second book, apocalyptic visions from his poems become real and threaten the safety of the woman he loves. So, it is no surprise that Wendland was inspired to write a third book, a collection of speculative poetry, supposedly written by this enigmatic character.

Temporary Planets for Transitory Days is a more concise version of ideas introduced in the novels. In all three books, Wendland looks at what might happen in futuristic human/alien worlds that continue to be influenced by past civilizations and mythologies. He imagines these worlds as places which have devolved. They are inadequate for living and never change because they are controlled by technology and lacking in what we might recognize as a humanizing touch. Creatives like Ranglen and his lover Mileen, a painter, are living in worlds that the reader can still recognize as having links to our times with “aircars” for speedy transportation, competitive people using “card-links” to make business contacts, and gangsters who traffic “the deprived and homeless.” At the same time, these new worlds are nightmarish developments of what might have once seemed like exciting possibilities such as teleportation (but with time glitches, so at what point is Ranglen in his relationship with Mileen in a certain place?) or the projection of the imagination into harmful and even deadly objects or scenarios that cannot be controlled (was someone killed by a unique type of aircar that only existed in a poem Ranglen wrote?).

The poems are divided into groups and include some that directly reference characters and events in the books, some that might be about the author’s actual life, and others that seem inspired by Wendland’s own reading and teaching as a professor of literature. There are even poems involving superheroes, Native American mythology, and vampires. Overall, Wendland and Ranglen seem to be attracted to writing about their eclectic, science-fiction infused personal interests as well as sudden, intense encounters and events that are best captured as poetic memories. In addition, the poems even predict Ranglen’s future because Wendland notes that these poems will lead to two more Ranglen novels “yet to be written.”

In the poem “Notes Toward a Supreme Science Fiction,” we learn what Wendland values most in writing science fiction: “The obsessed, the pursued, / And the space / In between.” He sees, as he says in “Negotiating a Dream” an opportunity when we might be able to “Maybe even appropriate/ Some other era’s / Lost stellar dreams.” In contrast, the love poems in the Planetary Love section of the book are more immediate, focusing on what loving someone means and how that love is an action and unifying force rather than being an exploration of complicated emotions. Ranglen talks about that “singular moment” when the “world of another person is open” (“In a Moment”) and about loving in a “language” “that came before words” (“The Touch”). The poem that defines Ranglen best has the same title as the first novel and appears toward the end of the collection. However, there is also an excellent introduction to the poetry that helps the reader for whom Ranglen is a stranger to understand, in broad strokes, the context of the poems as a whole.

If you want to experience a pleasant feeling of recognition, like a memory, read the novels first. If you decide to read the poems first, it would be worthwhile to avoid dipping into the book randomly so that the poems will unfold in a logical way, thus providing enjoyment and understanding through a narrative approach as spare and direct as the prose of the novels.  Recommended.

 

Reviewed by Nova Hadley

Book Review: The Willows by Algernon Blackwood

cover art for The Willows by Algernon Blackwood

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The Willows by Algernon Blackwood

ISBN-13 : 978-1081920890

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, Project Gutenberg

 

Having just finished T. Kingfisher’s book The Hollow Places, I discovered in the afterword that she had been inspired by a novella by Algernon Blackwood titled The Willows, which was much admired by H.P. Lovecraft as an example of horror and weird fiction. The story follows the narrator and his traveling companion (referred to throughout as “the Swede”) as they journey down the Danube River, which is almost a character in the story. Having left the town of Pressburg during a rising tide, with the threat of a storm on the way, they are washed out of the main channel of the river and into a wilderness of islands, sandbanks, and swamp covered with willow bushes, a “separate little kingdom of wonder and magic… with everywhere unwritten warnings to trespassers.”

With the waters still rising and the winds blowing the two find an island large enough to camp on that they are sure they will not be washed away. The rising water, the shouting wind, the crumbling islands, and the masses of willows all together create a sense of unease and terror in the narrator, which he tries to dismiss by focusing on practical matters. He and his companion avoid speaking about their current situation, even when all they have to occupy themselves with is conversation. Alone, collecting driftwood for the fire, the narrator describes the willows as “utterly alien,” a vast army of “innumberable silver spears”. Although he suspects his companion shares his feelings of disquiet, the two men don’t speak about their unease. After their first night on the island, the narrator sees that the islands, covered in willows, have moved closer to their own, which is washing away. His companion has discovered that they cannot leave right away, though, because one of their steering paddles is missing, the second has been filed so it will break on usage, and there is now a hole in the bottom of their canoe, and believes the damage was done to make them victims of a sacrifice. The narrator, not wanting corroboration for his feelings of unease and fear, attempts to come up with logical explanations, but neither of the two can really believe them. Both men are terrified of their upcoming fate, but his companion advises him that it’s best to neither talk nor think of the willows who may be searching them out and hope that, in their insignificance, the creatures of the “beyond region” they have strayed into, will fail to find them.

A camping trip with a friend doesn’t sound like it would be ominous and terrifying, but Blackwood’s vivid descriptions of the natural world and the narrator’s disintegrating state of mind turns what seems at first like a river inlet filled with willow bushes that might be a good place to stay overnight, into an unnatural, dread-inducing enviroment. It’s creepy in the “I can’t believe these characters slept at all on the island” kind of way. You will never look at willows without seeing them as sinister again.

Blackwood’s descriptions of the willows as an “unearthly region” where the beings “have nothing to do with mankind” marks this story as an early work of weird fiction, and you can clearly see the influence on Lovecraft’s work. It’s easy to see why Blackwood is considered a master of the genre. Highly recommended.

Note: I read the Project Gutenberg edition of this novella, not the one pictured above.

Book Review: The Girl Who Builds Monsters by Brian James Freeman, illustrated by Vincent Chong

cover art for The Girl Who Builds Monsters by Brian James Freeman, illustrated by VIncent Chong

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The Girl Who Builds Monsters by Brian James Freeman, illustrated by Vincent Chong

Cemetery Dance, 2020

ISBN-13 : 978-1587677656

Available: Hardcover

 

Emma is lonely. The kids in town think she is a monster because of the birthmark on her face. She lives with her  grandfather, who owns a doll factory where he designs and manufactures beautiful dolls, with perfect faces and bodies, for sale. One day, Emma finds a room of rejected and damaged machinery and doll parts, and starts to create dolls herself. They are imperfect, even monstrous, but Emma loves them, and takes them home, where she already has beautiful dolls her grandfather has made for her. At night, when Emma is asleep, all the dolls come alive. Unlike the kids in town, the perfect dolls welcome the monster dolls, and they all play together happily. The monster dolls are more adventurous and confident than the perfect dolls, though, and when robbers break into the house one night, the monster dolls come up with a plan to trap the thieves and protect Emma and her grandfather. Knowing they are supposed to keep their nighttime activites secret, the monster dolls charge the thieves, terrifying them into falling through a trapdoor in the hallway floor and saving the day. Looking monstrous on the outside doesn’t stop them from either being loved or acting out of love. On its own, it’s a sweet little story.

However, Vincent Chong’s illustrations really up the creepiness factor. It’s one thing to write about dolls, and another to draw them. I saw some aspects in the illustration, design, and use of font in the book that reminded me a bit of some of Dave McKean’s illustrations in The Wolves in the Walls. The people in the book are not realistically depicted, but the dolls seem much more real.  In sharing this book with my daughter, the absolutely creepiest moment for her was the two-page spread of the brightly drawn automated doll assembly line (although the monster dolls’ nighttime attack on the thieves was a close second), so it’s likely that the dolls’ uncanny nature may cause unease in some children, Emma herself is an adorable, if mostly sad, little girl. Chong shades her birthmark in while not letting it define her face or personality, and it is really wonderful to see her imagination at work as she takes ownership of turning damaged pieces into imperfect dolls that she can relate to. In Chong’s illustration of the dolls seen through Emma’s eyes, the monster dolls don’t seem monstrous.

For me, one of the things that makes this an absolutely outstanding book and a choice I would recommend for anyone working with elementary aged children is that it is one of the few picture books out there that depict disability in a positive and respectful way. Too often picture books about disabled people are educational texts describing a child’s disability for abled peers, and in the few fictional picture books, disabled people are rarely depicted as multifaceted individuals with positive characteristics. In fiction in general, disabled people are usually presented stereotypically, as either someone to feel sorry for (like Beth in Little Women), someone inspirational (think Auggie from Wonder), someone with “magical” abilities (Charles Xavier of the X-Men), or a villain. In horror in particular, villainy is frequently signified by disfigurement or masking (some of the classics in horror fiction include the Phantom of the Opera, the Invisible Man, and Dorian Gray ).  Brian James Freeman has done a great job at subverting the trope of disability and disfigurement as villainous and monstrous, and celebrating imperfection, and it’s really exciting to see this. Highly recommended for grades K+.