Most Helpful Customer Reviews
|
|
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A diverse collection, with many gems and few duds, June 15, 2008
The conceit of this collection of short stories is that a group of authors were invited to choose a word that had been the winning word from one of the annual Scripps National Spelling Bee competitions. The word Logorrhea itself was the winning word of the 1999 spelling bee that was featured in the film Spellbound. Logorrhea means "pathologically incoherent, repetitious speech," which is not an accurate descprition of this book. In a moment I'll give a brief review of each story, but overall the book is excellent. The stories span a wide variety of genres, although most lend themselves to a kind of magical realism or even fantasy & science fiction. There are very few that don't involve some sort of supernatural element, although a disturbing number involve grotesque bodily conditions, especially skin conditions. I could have used fewer descriptions of bodies breaking apart in ways that involve lots of pussy fluid, but there are plenty others that avoid the gross-out descriptions. At least one of these is award nominated, and some of the others are also effecting enough to stay with you long after you put the book down, even without resorting to turning your stomach. The one funny bit that I found is that 7 of the 21 words chosen are all from the last 10 years of the spelling bee. In spite of all the rhetoric that is logorrhically repeated about American students getting dumber, these words are hard. Much harder than, say, 1930's winning word of "knack." Not exactly a brain-buster there.
"The Chiaroscurist" by Hal Duncan: a wonderful short about a painter who works with light, contrast and shadow(hence the use of "chiaroscuro").
"Lyceum" by Liz Williams: a forgettable mystery story, set in a world that seems like a multiplayer level from Halo more than a real environment.
"Vivisepulture" by David Prill: a wonderfully evocative story of a mysterious building that haunts the dreams of a young man who's own dreams have fallen apart.
"Eczema" by Clare Dudman: aside from some gross mentions of skin sloughing off, this story is a fascinating tale of alternate worlds and mixed identity.
"Semaphore" by Alex Irvine: A war story, a ghost story and a coming of age story, all in one. I don't remember much of the details, but I didn't hate it either.
"The Smargadine Knot" by Marly Youmans: the story of a mysterious and powerful book that passes through a family for generations. Lots of wonderful small anecdotes, and an atmosphere that would be appropriate to Lovecraft.
"A Portrait in Ivory" by Michael Moorcock: Elric of Melnibone (Elric). By Michael Moorcock. What. A. Surprise. Seriously though, this one isn't bad, just lacking in any substance. Elric passes through a city and has his portrait done by an artist. I can't muster any real feelings about it, but it might be because I never cared for Elric stories anyway.
"The Cambist and Lord Iron: A Fairy Tale of Economics" by Daniel Abraham: Hugo nominated for best short story. Abraham described money-changing as a real type of magic, and he tells a story in that tone. Full of riddles and seemingly unsolvable puzzles. The ending becomes rather predictable, in a classical fairy tale way, but it moves along quickly and Abraham has a gift for economic and entertaining prose.
"Logorrhea" by Michelle Richmond: another body-related story, but in this case it turns quickly from grotesque to beautiful, turning the entire concept on its head through the perspective of the main character. The only grip I have is that logorrhea is used only in passing, and there is never an example of "pathologically incoherent, repetitive speech."
"Pococurante" by Anna Tambour: This story unfolds in a classical American short story tradition, evocative and moving all at once. Wonderful.
"From Around Here" by Tim Pratt: A supernatural ghost-busters story, involving the word 'autochthonous.' The autochthonal nature of legends and spirits is used in a fantastic and unforgettable way.
"Vignette" by Elizabeth Hand: Forgettable story but excellent prose. I highlighted several phrases, but couldn't tell you what it was about to save my life.
"Plight of the Sycophant" by Alan DeNiro: One of the best descriptions of a totally imagined world that I've ever read. Angels in rain slickers, demons with machine guns, infinite waterfalls between worlds. Great stuff.
"The Last Elgy" by Matthew Cheney: An unusual love story that makes you care about bizare people and strange relationships.
"Eudaemonic" by Jay Caselberg: Another story of longing and lost loves. This time it is set on an island, which is much more interesting as a place than any of the people who inhabit it.
"Softer," by Paolo Bacigalupi: Perhaps the most disturbing of all the stories, also one of the most beautifully written. A body macerates(the chosen word) in a bathtub while the killer discovers a new purpose in his life. The story reminded me of an interview in the movie The Bridge, where a surviving jumper from the Golden Gate Bridge said that he thought he had all kinds of problems, until he jumped from the bridge and he had the realization that he really only had one problem. Except, of course, his problem was that he had just jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. This story is rather like that, if you imagine that it takes place in the moments of free fall.
"Crossing the Seven," by Jay Lake: An accidental prophet embarks on a transept of 7 sister cities, meeting their literal sister queens. A great, vivid travelogue on a mysterious and perhaps doomed world, the prophet and his retinue encounter all sorts of fearsome and wondrous people and cultures, usually depraved. Although, sometimes, the prophet and his people are the ones who are depraved.
"Tsuris," by Leslie What: Defiantly one of the most graphic of the book's many depictions of skin diseases, this story also has some very interesting things to say about forgiveness and love, and the heat of a day in Oregon in the summer.
"The Euonymist" by Neil Williamson: My favorite word in the collection, it means "an appropriate name," in the manner that once you hear the name you cannot think of the thing possible being called anything else. Darth Vader. The Emerald Isle. The Dead Sea. Queen Anne's Lace. Tyrannosaurs Rex. The list goes on and on. The story itself remind me of David Brin's The Uplift War (Uplift), concerned with the bureaucratic problems that arise when Earth is a member of an Inter-Galactic Community.
"The Singing of Mount Abora," by Theodora Goss: A story that could stand beside those in Arabian Nights, as well as a story about the young student who writes it. Each part informs the other, and each one is compelling by itself. Together, it is a wonder.
"Appoggiatura," by Jeff Vandermeer: Embodying its definition as "an embellishing note or tone," this collection of vignettes(I just noticed that!), features every word in the collection in a series of anecdotes that mildly relate to one another and sometimes relate to other stories in the collection. I'm not sure how this story would stand on its own, but as a final note it is like the perfect finish to an excellent meal. Some of these short bits are transcendent, some are awful, but together they form a sort of closing chorus to the symphony of word.
|
|
|
|
See all Editorial Reviews
If you need help or have a question for Customer Service, 
