“The Damned Busters” by Mathew Hughes

There is a location in Hell that Dante overlooked; it is called the middle-seat, and to get there, one must first stand in an interminable line of sweaty, angry, confused people who, like you, are about to miss their flight.  This line, controlled by TSA golems carrying whips and wands, ogle and glare at you as you pass through their marvelous invasive machinery that can see through your clothing.  With a nod from their sausage-like necks, they signal their approval and allow you to pass.  It’s hard to miss their secret knowing, leering, smiles:  they have just seen you naked.

“The Damned Busters” did not start well for me.

My next humiliation:  to get to my middle-seat, I must squeeze past the incredibly large woman who was to be the seatmate, encapsulating the entire aisle to my left; surely, she blocked any hope of escape in the event of an emergency.  My other neighbor, by the window, an equally enormous black man, told me, as soon as I was seated, “Hey, if I'm asleep when they come with the drinks, then wake me.  Cause I want something to drink.”

Okay, I thought, time to ignore the world about me.  I pulled out Matt Hughes’s latest book “The Damned Busters,” published by Angry Robot, 2011, and began.

Oh, no!  I searched my pockets and computer bag for my glasses – damn!  They were in my carry-on bag, which I had tucked safely away in the overhead locker above the fat woman’s head.  The plane was already moving and so I was stuck.  The fat woman was chatting to people across the aisle.  The black man on my right was already asleep, and I was trapped between them both.  Stuck fast with my crappy eyesight, my Hell begins anew.

Holding Matt’s book about a foot from my face, I read.  The tight squint I adopted for that first hour is still fixed to my face, even now – two months later.

It is said:  Doctors make terrible patients, Pilots make nervous passengers, and that Prostitutes make timid lovers.  So then, it must follow that Writers make reticent readers, for author Matt Hughes actually encouraged me to read another of his books, "The Others" instead of this one, "The Damned Busters."  http://www.sfsite.com/fsf/blog/forum/topic.php?id=1286&page=2

All I can say is that “The Others” must be fantastic, because “The Damned Busters” is great… and odd, and strange.

There is no meandering storyline for Matt Hughes.  He gets immediately to the gravitas of the story, wherein the main character, Chesney Arnstruther, accidently summons a demon from Hell.  This encounter leads to a work stoppage of Hell, bringing Earth to a grinding passionless halt, and annoying the Principal of Hell Himself, Satan.

At first glance, there is an element of “cute” to the story, but as the entanglement unfolds, the reader is treated to a thoroughly well thought-out plotline, with Hell shutting down, and our protagonist, Chesney, resolving the situation by making a non-binding deal with the Devil – and all this by the end of Chapter 3.

Chesney’s deal is to be a superhero – and this is no less plausible than radioactive spider bites, or our suns golden rays shinning upon our most famous superhero, Clark Kent.

Using the complexities of the Judeo-Christian belief system as the key element underlying this story, Matt throws an entirely different light on this well-worn genre.  I think Matt may be first to do this, and so his playing field is vast and untouched, already, he has a sequel in the works.

Hughes has a deep insight into Christianity and uses it well by introducing us to a televangelist, Billy Lee Hardacre.  Hardacre, is the story’s religious expert, and becomes the mediator between Hell, Chesney, Earth, and Heaven.  While he negotiates the deal to get Hell moving again, he falls in love with Chesney’s mother… and the plot thickens.

Hughes’s perception of Christianity and the sin found within it, is best reflected in Chapter 3.  Chesney is walking to his mother’s house (because the busses are not running).  Chesney has already had a conversation with several high-ranking demons and then with Satan himself, and so Chesney knows what is going on.  With Hell on strike, humans are no longer sinning.  In Chapter 3, as Chesney walks, he passes a house he knows.  The garden of this house is normally filled with blooming flowers, but now the garden and its flowers are untended, untidy, and yellowing.  Why had the elderly couple, who worked so diligently, day after day, to create the garden, not come out to tend it?  Chesney realizes that it was never for the love of flowers and their beauty; instead, the garden had been inspired entirely from the sin of Pride.  It was here, I realized, I found something I had not expected, and I knew I wanted to keep going.  Despite the horrible people about me, and despite my cramped confinement to my seat, I disappeared into Matt’s world, and for that, I will always be grateful.

I won’t spoil the story for you, suffice to say, it’s a good one.  Chesney and his demonic sidekick, Xaphan (who has penchant for whiskey, cigars, and the 1920’s), go through a series of bonding moments.  There are a couple of pretty girls, a villain, etc.  But there is more – for it is a story within a story.  Matt Hughes cleverly intertwines a higher plot that may, or may not change, depending on the number of rewrites God Himself makes to His Book (God’s book, not Matt’s – or maybe both, I guess we will find out in the sequel, “Costume not Included” coming in May 2012).

I highly recommend this book.  It made an otherwise intolerable travel day, pleasant.  Thanks Matt.

JL

Fantasy & Science Fiction, Jan/Feb 2012

Issue

Jan/Feb 2012

When I read F&SF I begin by reading the Short Stories first and then Novelettes and the Novellas.

The Short Stories

The first journey into this issue began for me on page 43 with Alexander Jablokov's "The Comfort of Strangers"  It is a good thing I like "weird" because this story, easily, is weirdest of the bunch.  But unfortunately, it's not much of a story, I'm afraid.  The plot is very shallow, almost non-existent; it has no theme, unless the sexual proclivities of various alien species can be considered thematic – but I somehow doubt it.

This story saves itself because it is imaginative and playfully written, and written well.  It is a shame that Mr. Jablokov did not provide the same consideration to the story at large.  However, this aside, I must congratulate Mr. Jablokov on his remarkable and spectacular imagination!

Next, I jumped to page 79.  Ken Liu's "Maxwell's Demon"

I'm a great fan of Ken Liu.  I just hope this isn't about somebody's mother...

Thank goodness, it's not.  Now here is a story!  Literally, this is a ghost-in-the-machine story.  It has an intriguing beginning; here we follow a Japanese American from imprisonment in the USA right into the heart of the conflict on Okinawa, WWII.  Graphic and horribly real, Liu takes us where few writers dare tread.  A theme of home and belonging runs strong and true through this piece.  The science aspect of plot tends to peter out toward the end, as too does the spectral side of the story.  However, Liu recovers nicely allowing for the natural entropy between the main character and her real home.  When the door is opened, you may be forced to shed an unexpected patriotic tear to the fact that we Americans are not defined by the ground we walk on, but by the people we are.  It is wonderful piece, even though the nuances of Maxwell's (very real) thought experiment maybe lost on some readers.  This is a great story.

I leap forward now to "Scrap Dragon" by Naomi Kritzer, page 101.

Immediately, this story had me thinking of the actor Fred Savage - but not the young Fred Savage from the “Princess Bride” (where this story begins), but the Fred Savage with the giant mole on his cheek from the Austin Power movie, Goldmember. “Moleeee.”

I found this story to be rather weak, and found myself flipping to the end to figure out how many more pages to go (not a good sign).  This story is not terrible but it seems out of place after reading the two earlier stories.  The second voice (the Fred Savage voice) is annoying and distracting; also, it is incongruent -- sometimes child-like and sometimes adult-like.  The story is a little clumsy too, there are two scrapbooks, and so the reader is left to wonder why the first was introduced to begin with.  There are also a number of extraneous characters that jumble the story, taking it nowhere.   All this being said, the plot is solid, if not predictable.

On I go, on to page 140 -- "In the Trenches" by Michael Alexander.

And Wow!  What a great story it is.

Here we have entwined themes of companionship, love, death, fear, hate, the joy of life -- regardless of death or suffering.  This story salutes that peculiar human ability to recognize our own weaknesses, and love them for what they are.  This is a powerful story set in the trenches of WWI.  It is well crafted and well written.  This story is sure to keeping you thinking days after you’ve read it.

My prediction:  this story will win awards.  What awards I don’t know, but I feel it will live on in Anthologies for years to come.

Then, I jumped all the way to page 188, the shortest story of the bunch, Lewis Shiner's "Canto MCML"

I finished it in just a few minutes.  Hmmm... got to be a misprint -- there must be some pages missing.  It took me a few minutes to figure it out but then I looked at the title again.  Oh, now I get it.   But a story, a title does not make. After all, this is supposed to be a magazine of short stories not a cryptogram.  I offer the staff of F&SF this: just because something is clever does not make readable or enjoyable.



I pause now to explain a few things.  No doubt, you've realized that I do not retell these stories or even provide much of an overview, as some bloggers/critics do.  As far as I'm concerned that is the author’s job -- and it’s your job to pick up the magazine and read the story for yourself!  Don’t trust anybody, especially me.  Subjectivity is the beast that both author and reader must ride together.  A third party, i.e. me, can’t do it for either.

I see a story in three parts: Theme, Plot, and Mechanics.  These three devices make up the whole.  Primarily, I look for themes and their relevancy to my life.  After all, at its essence, a story is conveyance of conceptual ideas and feelings directed at me, the reader.  Without a theme, I often wonder why I’m taking time to read something to begin with.  The theme is an offering, a gift, if you like.

The Plot, I see as bars of a cage, a cage that holds and contains the themes.  If I don't see a theme --- then I see only an empty cage.  Many would argue that the Plot and the Mechanics are one in the same.  I disagree.  All stories can have only one direction – one in which Point A leads to Point Z.  The bars of the cage then are already defined – it’s up to the Mechanics now to push the story along.

As to a story’s mechanics, I do not look just at grammar, but also those movements or vehicles that shift the story about the bars of the cage -- scene snapshots, so placed, that help drive action and characters into convergent points. 

A well conceived Plot is a sturdy cage, within which, the Mechanics flow easily.  In such a place, excellent themes abound and thrive, altogether making for a damn good story!

The Novelettes

With that said, time to get down to the Novelettes.  I return to the beginning of the magazine: "Small Towns" by Felicity Shoulders, on page 5.

This is a delightful story; told well, with an engaging plot.  Themes of home, loss, sense of place, and acceptance are crystal clear.  The story's ending is a little weak, but it is enough.  I thoroughly enjoyed this story.

Next, I tackled "The Secret of the City of Gold" by Ron Goulart. Page 55

There is a time and place for everything.  Today, in the early part of the 21st Century, a story this careless and this reckless makes itself particularly unwelcome, sorry to be so harsh.  One only need compare "The Secret of the City of Gold" to that of Alexander's or Liu's to see my point.  Modern Science Fiction and Fantasy is being driven forward by writer's like Liu, and a rambling story, full of predictable, cartoonish, and stereotypical characters that lurk within the "The Secret of the City of Gold" are entirely out of place with the present.  I gave this story the same attention I have given the others, hoping to discover some secret hidden within in it, but alas, this story is nothing more than a dead fish from start to finish.

Thankfully, with that former horror behind me, I move to page 116, the cover story, "Umbrella Men" by John McDaid.

Wow!  Beautiful story.  I loved the premise and promise this story offers.  "Umbrella Men" is cut from the fabric of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy. This is an excellent story that is both enthralling and timely.  There are a few muddy parts however.  The Sci-fi writing seminar is one.  This scene is distracting, and seems unnecessary, it adds nothing to the story (and McDaid does seem to acknowledge it in a footnote at the end).  Also, McDaid has an affinity for pronouns, and uses them liberally.  With three generations of characters: grandfather, son, and grandson.  I think, like me, non-Spanish readers will have the same difficulties I did following the dialogue.   But, other than my few weak criticisms, this is a wonderful story which I highly recommend.

Next, page 164, "Alien Land" by K. D. Wentworth.

The first few pages of this story have a casual and throwaway tone.  Initially, I wanted to dislike this story, but could not.  I found myself smiling the whole way through, imagining a cross between "Coneheads" and the “Twilight Zone."

This story is a rare gem, charming and thought provoking with relevant themes regarding our current housing crisis and idiotic national policy to immigration.

One failing in many Sci-fi short stories are their endings -- authors fail to wrap things up completely, bringing the story full circle, so to speak.  Not so, in "Alien Land" -- this story is well written, enjoyable, and most of all, fun.

Now, "Mindbender” by Albert E. Cowdrey, page 204.  I’m not sure what to make of this story.  It certainly didn’t grab me, that’s for sure.  In fact, I’m not even sure there is a Sci-fi or Fantasy angle to this story at all.  Perhaps because mind-control and mind-reading stories have been done to death, and this story, unfortunately, adds to the cairn.

Cowdrey, always readable and articulate, builds a very readable and enjoyable story here, but there is no climatic impact at the end, not to say that is how a story should end, but a story should give something to the reader in return for his time, if not, then its just a whole lot of words.  Unfortunately, this story is just that.  But even so, I did not dislike this story.

Now to the last of the pack:  “The Color Least Used by Nature” by Ted Kosmatka.

Wow!  This is a hauntingly elegant story, delicate and very complex.  Ted Kosmatka is quite the poet, and this story is beautifully written.  However, there is little or no fantastic element to this story.  A theme of escape ties the story together, from the “Walking Trees” the protagonist uses to build his boats, to his death at the end of the story.  I have to admit, I like this story, but I’m not sure I understood its nuances completely – but that does not mean that you won’t.  Enjoy!

My Pick Five:

1. “In the Trenches” by Michael Alexander
2. “Alien Land" by K. D. Wentworth
3. “Maxwell's Demon” by Ken Liu
4. “Umbrella Men” by John G. McDaid
5. "Small Towns" by Felicity Shoulders

I apologize to those of you whose feelings I’ve hurt, and to those I’ve praised -- in the immortal words of Han Solo, “don’t get cocky, kid!”

I'd just like to add my thanks Gordon Van Gelder and the staff of F&SF for the free magazine, and the opportunity to blog about it.

A