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Friday, December 15, 2023

Review of Everywhere by Ian R. Macleod

I am not a fan of bands' greatest hits albums. Unlike standard albums which are conceived as sequential wholes of original songs, greatest hits are forced conceptions. Song order no longer matters, which (ironically) dilutes the contrast of what makes great songs great. Secondly, the songs are not technically novel; they've been released before. And thirdly, not to put too fine a point on it, such albums feel more commodity than art. I feel the same about book publishers who release best-ofs, particularly those who release best-ofs for writers still creating at a high level. Unable to find his older collections at a reasonable price, however, I made the choice to go against my own values and indulge in Ian Macleod's two volume 'greatest hits': Everywhere (2019) and Nowhere (2019). Collecting his 'best' novellas (or at least longer pieces of short fiction), let's take a look at Everywhere.

Things kick off with “Grownups”, a story capturing the worldview of pre-teens, often in subtly uncomfortable fashion. Peter Pan-adjacent (perhaps adjacent to adjacent), it tells of a boy growing up in the most bizarre, creepy social fashion, but is at heart looking at the awkwardness, dynamism, and occasional absurdity of becoming an adult. Magic realist in substance, Macleod presents the strangeness as quotidian. The tale builds to a bittersweet ending that hangs and hangs for its relatability, making for a difficult story to forget.

A story deserving a spot in many a 'greatest hits' let alone Macleod's, “New Light on the Drake Equation” is the story of astrophysicist, mathematician, and drunkard Tom Kelly. Isolating himself in the French Alps with a massive homemade radio antennae, he spends his days bottle in hand, waiting for the universe to communicate. A surprise visit from a person on Earth, however, is what changes his world. With an occasional reference to sci-fi of old, Macleod fully humanizes the search for extra-terrestrial life—a paradox needing to be read to be believed. (For extended review, see here.)

The Master Miller’s Tale” is the story of the latest in a long line of Westovers manning the grain mill on Burling Hill, Nathan Westover. Taught the spells that keep the winches and pulleys turning by his mother, and by his father the necessities of bargaining with the wind-seller for the knotted ropes that will stir the skies when they become calm, Nathan spends his youth learning the ways of the big wooden windmill, getting dusty with flour along the way. Coming to understand every aspect of the trade as he grows, Nathan is ready to take over when his father suddenly passes away, the family business in good hands. But something new appears in Nathan’s lifetime that his ancestors never had to deal with: aether technology. Finding the new competition stiffer than his upbringing taught him to handle, Nathan pushes himself harder and harder to stay ahead, pushing the old windmill on Burling Hill to its limits. Problem is, even the most well-maintained mill has a breaking point. And so too do people. “The Master Miller’s Tale” evokes the dark talents of Charles Dickens and Keith Roberts as much as The Light Ages and The House of Storms. It is a real treat for those who enjoyed the novels and are looking for more, and for those who haven’t read the Aether books, the novella makes for a nice introduction to the themes, setting, and style.  (For extended review, see here.)

Another jewel from Macleod's short fiction crown, “Breathmoss” is a poignant tale of a young woman’s named Jalila development on a distant planet as changes occur in her family. A story that transcends tragedy and comedy, the denouement is truly touching. Never melodramatic, Macleod should be commended for keeping the scope realistic despite the setting being another planet. A hint of melancholy residing between the lines, Jalila’s trajectory caroms between the little joys and pains that make life what it is, culminating in a choice that accepts the innocence of youth is behind and the responsibility of growing up is ahead. The twist on Middle Eastern culture only marginally interesting, readers should tune in for the personal themes of a young person finding their place in the universe—yes, just like many of Le Guin’s stories. (For extended review, see here.)

More vignette than story, “Papa “tells of an elderly man visited by his 20-something grandchildren. While grandpa has been biologically upgraded to have extended life, he still blinks and glazes over at the tech and gadgets his grandkids wield. A semi-utopian vision, Macleod plays off the elderly man's bittersweet memories to contrast the technically advanced present. The story's aims are subtly realized, but it struggles a touch without a strong motivating plot factor.

A writer's story perhaps a touch more than a reader's story, “Frost on the Glass” overlays writer's block onto an Orwellian dystopia. In the setting, productive writers are sent to live on a luxurious island where they have freedom to ply their craft for the people's good, and are provided for while society on the mainland struggles to survive—so long as the writers are productive, which the main character Boult is not. Boult is hiding a bad case of writer's block, and at the start of the story a government official comes to check progress on his latest novel. The novella, Macleod's that is, is well written, but remains a forced conception that may not have long legs.

Closing the collection is “Ephemera”, which is likewise the name of a massive culture cache located inside an asteroid orbiting Earth in the story. The asteroid cache is maintained by a spider AI who enjoys the arts, and who occupies the role of main character. Put into orbit in the event human civilization should collapse, humanity figured some record of the Beatles, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Kurusawa, etc. was important. And it turned out the cache was needed: contact with Earth disappears. But that is not the biggest challenge; entropy is. A surprisingly touching story despite the fact an AI is front and center, “Ephemera” offers a nice closing story to ponder the value of culture, including Macleod's own work.

In the end, Everywhere is an excellent collection. While I would have preferred to read the novellas/novelettes in their native element, i.e. the collections they were originally released in, I can't complain too much. Taken one by one, and spaced out with time, each story packs significant human punch. If you've never read Macleod, and, if you are major reader of Macleod, this, along with the sister collection to Everywhere, Nowhere, is for you. If there is justice, Macleod will go down as one of the greatest of his generation, and some of the reasons are here.


The following are the seven novelettes/novellas collected in Everywhere:

Grownups

Breathmoss

New Light on the Drake Equation

The Master Miller's Tale

Papa

Frost on Glass

Ephemera

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