Archive for the ‘Richard Parks’ Category
Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate, by Richard Parks
published in 2014
where I got it: purchased new
.
.
.
.
.
.
Historical fiction about a time and place I don’t know much about combined with mystery, ghosts, demons, and political intrigue? Sign me up. As much as I love my space opera and low fantasy, I grew up reading historical fiction, and historical works have a very special place in my heart. I’ve read and enjoyed a few of Richard Parks’ short stories, so I was curious to read one of his novels.
Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate by Richard Parks takes place in 11th century Japan. Yamada no Goji is a minor nobleman, lately welcomed at the palace compound, but since the loss of Princess Teiko, he has avoided crossing paths with the nobility. What was the secret she was willing to die for? Was someone blackmailing her? And the larger concern is the safety of her son, Emperor Takahito. The power of the Fujiwara clan is rising, how far will they go to ensure one of their own sits upon the throne?
(quick language lesson: Monogatari translates to story, tale, or narrative)
The opening chapters of To Break the Demon Gate are just beautiful. Characters send metaphor laden poetry back and forth to each other, and this art of courtly poetry was a real thing in the court of the Heian period. Inflection, rhythm, symbology, and how it all came together in a very short verse was just as important as the information carried therein. Many of the poems are explained, but I enjoyed trying to figure out the symbology before Yamada explained it to me. Colorful poetry aside, this was a very formal environment, with no room for public displays of affection. In these early chapters, it is implied that Yamada and Princess Teiko have a history, but exactly what that history is is never spe Read the rest of this entry »
I’m randomly working my way through the Clarkesworld Year Four anthology, which includes all the original fiction the magazine published in their fourth year. This is the second post in the series, click here for the first post.
The more I read in this anthology, the more I enjoy it. The stories are relatively short, mostly around 9-12 pages, perfect tasty nuggets of strangeness. I’ve linked each story back to Clarkesworld, so you can head over there and read the ones that catch your attention.
Today I’ll be talking about short fiction from Richard Parks, Brenda Cooper, Robert Reed, and Melissa Lingen.
Night, in Dark Perfection by Richard Parks – The Faerie Queen insists that everyone attend her parties. Anyone who doesn’t come willingly, will be forced, or perhaps the entire party will have to be cancelled. Elsewhere, the Captive Princess is trying to escape. Something very strange is going on, there is something skewed and not quite right about these characters right from the start. They have both been alone for a very, very long time even though the kind and gentle voice of the Palace speaks to both of them. The Captive Princess hears strange voices while she is exploring her prison, but for once, these voices do not belong to the Palace, or any of the usual residents. For you see, the Faerie Queen and the Captive Princess are AIs (or at least, that was my interpretation of them) on a derelict ship, and the ship has been discovered by salvagers. Did the ship’s mind create them, in an attempt to stave of insanity, or perhaps as friends, other voices to talk to in the void?
Clockwork Phoenix 4, Edited by Mike Allen
Available July 2013
where I got it: received review copy from the editor (thanks Mike!!)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
What kind of stories will you find in Clockwork Phoenix 4? Only those are that are magical, imaginative, heartwrenching, just plain bizarre, forward-looking, backward-looking, biological, romantic, hopeful, darkly funny and openly frightening. All the words that describe the best speculative fiction you’ve ever read apply. In fact, if this isn’t the epitome of speculative fiction, I don’t know what is.
Mike recently did an interview with me over at BSBB, and I asked him about the job of an editor. Among other things, he described it as being similar to being the director of a play. Did you recently see a play or a movie that was more than the sum of its parts? How about a musical that was only 2 hours long, but seemed to have weeks of song in it? That’s what Clockwork Phoenix feels like, like time has been frozen, allowing Allen to cram far more beautiful strange things than the laws of physics should permit in less than 300 pages. Allen is a dude who really, really knows how to direct.
I used to always read anthologies in the order the stories were presented. I started liking anthologies much better after I decided I’d read the stories in any damn order I wanted (usually starting with the shortest). I know Mike Allen put these stories in this particular order, for a particular reason, and by reading them out of order it’s like I’m going through his carefully curated museum backwards. To be even more contrary, the order I’ve reviewed a handful of stories in isn’t the order they were presented in either.
I’ve not read much from most of the authors in this collection, so I greatly appreciated the “Pinions” section in the back, where each other offers a short bio, and more importantly a little snippet about how their story came to be. It was very nice to read that Corrine Duyvis is an arachnophobe.
Here are my thoughts on a handful of selected entries. This is just the smallest taste of what awaits you within these pages. Where available, click on the author’s name to visit their website.
The Old Woman With No Teeth by Patricia Russo – The Old Woman has hired someone to transcribe her story, but since he keeps getting things wrong she interrupts and tells him what he aught to be writing down. Their interaction is hilarious, but her story starts out sadly. The Old Woman is very lonely, and wants a family. She goes into the city to find orphans who might want to be adopted, and instead finds another population that is in more dire need of being wanted. It’s a little jarring how the story goes from a fantasy-feel to a matter-of-fact feel, but in the end it all works out.
Beach Bum and the Drowned Girl by Richard Parks – what happens when two story cliches meet each other? Beach Bum is the mysterious guy the female protagonist always meets in the story, maybe to fall in love with, maybe to learn something from, maybe to be hurt by, maybe just to watch. Drowned Girl is the dead girl the investigator always finds, the mystery to be solved, the child to be saved. And who knows? Maybe Beach Bum and Drowned Girl can help each other out and learn from each other. It couldn’t hurt to chat with another cliché, could it?
the Little Red Reviewer 
Recent Comments