A Is For Alien

Caitlin Kiernan

Collection of short stories, was surprised to see it on the shelf of the local library and read it with less buildup or anticipation than occurred with a lot of these pieces. The main surprise here is finding them to be, for the most part, pretty distinctly science fiction as opposed to the dark fantasy I know from three of her novels. It's self-consciously Lovecraftian in tone, dealing with the menace and distance of aliens while simultaenously alienizing humanity in various ways. All of the stories are readable, most are interesting, but none manage to be fully compelling or offer really ground-breaking insights. I prefer Kiernan as a novelist and certainly none of the stories are up to the standard of Bacigalupi's collection, but they do make some daring and weighty functions.

Pretty goofy title, though. It’s presumably a riff on Bradbury, but as is it sounds like the kind of cheeky title that civilians would expect of genre fiction, and doesn’t really adequately serve the tone of these pieces.

Worse than: Buy Jupiter and Other Stories by Isaac Asimov
Better than: The Planet on the Table by Kim Stanely Robinson

Threshold

by Caitlin Kiernan

Very similar in format to Silk, but a lot more enjoyable. The characters were more appealing, the pace of events worked a lot more smoothly, and the wider supernatural facets were effective rather than distracting. The background myth slowly expressed was interesting, and the monsters were actually quite scary--and such encounters were used to further build the connection with and complexity of the characters. Still not as good as the Red Tree, and I'm beginning to get worried that Kiernan only really has one story she's retelling, but a worthwhile read.

The main structure works both as a horror novel and as a character study. The type of horror is rather Lovecraftian, and much as I tend to be alienated by the initial writer and many of the recreators of his text, here it’s quite effective, brining a level of creativity and coherence alongside some effective specific passages. The creepiness comes from the ability of the creatures to quite effectively and horribily dispose of main characters as well as the larger substance of what they are, a longstanding pre-historic species at once before recorded time and outside of regular temporality entirely. Yet it ultimately succeeds because the characters, while in the same mold as in Silk, appear vastly more complex and sympathetic. They’re screwups, in large part, but much more endearing and understandable in the mistakes they make with their life. Additionally they carry in enough actual sympathy for each other that there are sparks of real friendship and possibly even love against the grittiness, and make the central momentum of the plot a lot more engaging.

Worse than: American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Better than: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Silk

by Caitlin Kiernan, 353 pages

Not long ago I made my first encounter with Kiernan in her most recent volume, The Red Tree, which I found quite impressive. Unfortuately in this earlier work Kiernan didn't manage anything like the same intensity or literary flair, or even real coherence. The urban fantasy/horror elements are more explicit than in Red Tree but also far less impacting, taking some stock terrors that disturb the characters without ever making for a unique take on fantasy. They disturb the immediate balance of people’s lives but lack the pathos to deliver a truly forceful statement in relation to the larger world, or even the long-term lives of the characters that do managed to survive. The narrative barromater, that is to say, appears to be locked on extremes of reaction in a way that makes it hard to truly accept the details of the backdrop as unique or compelling.

Put this with characterization too spread out and similar to be really effective--the switch from a single tight viewpoint of the Red Tree to four perspectives here isn't a good one--and I wasn't sufficiently invested in anything that happened in the story. It’s clearly deliberate that the characters are generally failures, having an incomplete grasp of their own lives and screwing up again and again with drugs and sex. It doesn’t make them more appealing, though, and given the horror-novel structure depends on some level on having sympathy with them this aspect is unfortunate. While in the Red Tree the main character was complex and compelling despite her extensive flaws and failings, here too much of what they are feels irritating and, worse, predictible.

There was some pathos and effective moments in the very end, but overall I have to judge this book a failure.

Worse than: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Better than: The Mystery of Grace by Charles de Lint