In a modern interpretation of the epistolary novel, S.L. Huang’s 2016 novella, The Little Homo Sapiens Scientist examines one of the oldest unknowns, the vast depths of our own ocean system. Drawing from myths of mermaids as old as sea travel, this story is one of first contact, politics, and, in its way, love.
Told from the perspective of Cadence Mbella by some unknown writer, it is made up of recordings of her own subvocalizations during the time that she attempts contact with a recently discovered species of intelligent sea creatures who leave so deep in the ocean that they can’t even see, but communicate and sense in other ways. But something goes wrong when a militarized group attempts to circumvent her research and instead kidnap one of the so-called mermaids.
This sets off a series of events that eventually leads Dr. Mbella back to the sea, to discover, as deeply as a human can, the extent of the Atargati way of life.
Despite its short length, the novella manages to present the reader with a lot to consider; from its in medias res beginning to its heartbreaking and eye-opening conclusion, the language Huang uses to tell the story is some of the most evocative in the contemporary SF canon. This is one of those stories that redefines what it is to be human, what science is, and how we think about myth and culture.
Without Light or Guide picks up soon
after the events of In Midnight’s Silence,
after Diago has rescued his son from Moloch, ruler of the daimons, who wishes
to use young Rafael for his own empowerment. Diago and his husband Miquel begin to put their lives in
order with the addition of Rafael, while trying to get to the bottom of the
conflict between the angels, daimons, and angel-born Nefilim to whom they are
1930’s noir, part urban fantasy, Without
Light or Guide explores human pain in all its facets, and the many forms
that healing can take. Diago has
doubted himself for so long after the events of his first life that even though
he looks for mercy for others in their reincarnations, he reserves none for
himself. This time, he has to deal
with the suspicion and even open hostility of other Nefilim while attempting to
solve a series of murders—and the victims have direct connections to him. As the clues point towards a greater
game being played than just conflict between angels and daimons, Diago must
learn to trust himself again in order to face the next attack from Moloch, who
has only been weakened, not defeated.
humanity, and indeed that of all the Nefilim the reader encounters, is what
drives this story. Frohock draws a
definitive line between the mortals and immortals, then skillfully blurs it,
allowing the reader to fall into it headfirst only to be brought up short with
the delightfully horrific realization that, no, these are not humans; though
they may make attempts to spare humans when it’s convenient, the lives of
mortals are not a priority. Frohock’s
use of music as magic is a perfect example: music is both commonplace and
transcendent as a human endeavor, and yet when the Nefilim use it, it becomes
something more altogether—something that can kill or heal at will, and beguile
mortals to turn them into pawns in a greater game.
of urban fantasy and magical realism will enjoy the way Frohock blends myth,
reality, and her own blend of magic to create a unique fantasy world. For those who like a historical,
alt-universe this series firmly places the story within its real-world setting,
all the while hinting at a much more sinister world history than we were taught
in school. Any reader of fantasy
drawn to character-driven stories, will surely find much to love in Without Light or Guide and its
Taking on charlatans is a full time job for Rob, editor, writer and publisher of The Jaundiced Eye. And for the past eight months Kildy, blockbuster movie star-turned reporter, has been battling the psychics, mediums, and other assorted con artists in the greater Los Angeles area with him. Until they encounter a channeler with a particularly strange show, and find they just may have met their match.
Willis has crafted a page-turner that goes just far enough into the absurd to keep readers hooked. Though Rob is the narrator, the story is told mainly through dialog, allowing the reader to discover the mystery along with Rob and Kildy. Rob’s place as the somewhat unreliable narrator forms a nice contrast to his normally authoritative role as skeptic and collector of facts. The novella takes many twists and turns within its 100 pages, making this more than the story of a man secretly in love with his co-worker it could be. Being influenced by the crime noir genre, the characterization is somewhat underdone, but the story does not suffer for it.
This is a great, quick read for anyone who enjoys Connie Willis’ work, or noir-inspired fiction. Those who enjoy science fiction on a micro level—rather than the universe spanning genres like space opera—will find much to like in the way Willis explores science vs. pseudoscience. Readers of Twain will enjoy the quick characterization and punchy dialogue of this novella.