The Shining Girls

On the surface, this book had many things that I love: A psychopath. Time travel. A May-December romance (Harrison Ford I still love you bb). Sophisticated 1920s era lesbians. Etc, etc.

And...yet. The sum is less than its parts. I've read some of Beukes' previous novels, and she certainly has a real knack for imaginative plot devices and world-building. In this story of one man sowing murder and madness through the decades via a time-portal in an old house, I wasn't bothered by the fact that the hows and whys of the time travel wasn't explained. The creaky old house with the boarded up windows, full of treasures the killer has stolen from his "shining girls," was creepy and evocative enough for me - I didn't need that bogged down with a "scientific" explanation of how the villain skipped through the years and found his victims. But what I can't excuse is the lack of motive, or really any depth of characterization, in his character. He's barely more than a sketch - and as a result a lot of what he does feels completely random. Is he a drunk? Was he abused? Just insane? A misogynist? An opportunist? What the hell is his story, and why do I care?

The heroine, Kirby, is slightly more fleshed out. However, I still didn't find her very compelling. Also I hate the name Kirby. Sorry, Kirby. Her boss/mentor/love interest was equally mild. I kept picturing him in those sad dad sweaters, which didn't help (You know: a chunky textured knit, maybe in a forest green. The sweater equivalent of that 'wommp wommp' sound).

Funnily enough, the characters that stood out the most to me were the "shining girls" that are stalked and murdered in short interstitial chapters. From different eras, with different struggles - in those concise sections their lives are richly imagined. The killer is drawn to them because of their potential, which seems to "shine" from them - and the writing certainly reflects this. Too bad the rest of the book had to suffer.

2 unlicensed haruspices* out of 5.

*Look it up, dummy.

Tenth of December and Store of the Worlds: A Surreal Stories Twofer

 

I feel like the question authors dread the most is “where do you get your ideas?” because a) there’s not, like, a box somewhere and b) it always has this weird subtext of “tell us the secretsss please precious secretsss we wants to work from home too pleeeease.” Also, for tons of authors, it’s pretty obvious where they get their ideas: from the news, or from their lives, or from scanning the best-seller list. Not that there’s anything wrong with that – some of the most amazing books have their magic in the way the story is told, not necessarily the premise or plot twists.

But sometimes you just got to go to another place – you don’t want to read about sad suburbia or ripped-from-the-headlines mystery & crime or another goddamned paranormal romance. You want something ORIGINAL, baby! Something that will actually make you shake the book and say “where did you get these ideas you weird little fuckers?!”

For those moments, try George Saunders or the late, great Robert Sheckley. In Saunders’ 10^th of December, there are so many visions of an absurdist yet completely possible future America that I vacillated between being amused (“ha! Can you imagine?”) to terrified (“Oh god I can imagine…is this real life???”). I predictably loved the most ‘out-there’ stories, like “The Semplica Girl Diaries,” about a father trying to ‘keep up with the Jones’ and their living lawn ornaments.  The other tales, like the title story, were more realistic, but no less engrossing. Disappointment and failed potential and middle-class longing seemed to be big themes. Yet somehow I emerged un-depressed - Saunders has a way with words that can make you laugh through the tears.

Sheckley’s work has a similar sense of humor – he used his super-powered imagination to ask "what if?" and followed the trail wherever it took him. This was my first introduction to his work, and I’ll definitely be checking out more. He turns all of the stale conventions of science-fiction & fantasy on their heads in smart, witty stories about government sanctioned cat & mouse games and "land races," alien worlds with killer winds, well-intentioned but bumbling "first contact" teams, spaceships made of self-aware specialized components, resurrected soldiers...etc, etc, etc. The potential Twilight Zone scenarios go on & on. Sci-fi & speculative fiction can sometimes fall back on predictable tropes, but Sheckley feels sharp and fresh. For stories written in the 1950s, that's no small feat.

Saunders & Sheckley in 2016. Step into something new...with BOOKS! Doo doo doo DOO.

Tenth of December: 3.5 ml of Vivistif out of 5.

Store of the Worlds: 4 minutes in an alternate non-nuclear winter earth out of 5.