Moon Dogs kicks off with the title story. It tells of a young man who goes to a near-drowning clinic in the hopes of purging his thoughts of mortality. After, he rests in the woods and meets a strange woman with a pack of mechanical dogs. Her backstory relevant, the man's sense of mortality takes a dramatic swing in the aftermath of their meeting. This story is the lone, previously unpublished piece in the collection and is an oddly successful combination of gothic and science fiction. It delivers on mood, and, if anything else, is a well written bit of cheap revenge.
What follows the title story sets the pattern for the remainder of the collection: one or two essays, followed by a piece of short fiction relevant to said essays. “The Death of the Magus” is a whimsical ideation on Avram Davidson's passing, followed by “Mickelrede, or, the Slayer and the Staff”, a collaboration between Swanwick and Davidson. Bizarre does not begin to cover this story. It is set in a world where luddites who love blood sport are attacked by egotistical cavemen. Chaos, if it didn't already exist, ensues, complemented by Davidson and Swanwick's faux-formal style. “Vergil Magus: King Without Country” is a tale featuring the eponymous wizard that readers will need to be patient with, the payoff worth it. Court intrigue involving multiple magicians, Davidson and Swanwick weave a subtle tale with fun elements—swords, aphrodisiacs, and comically stilted dialogue.
“Jane Swanwick and the Search for Identity” is an anecdotal (and entertaining) muse on people impersonating fictional characters at parties and other social situations. Who would have known? Swanwick follows this with a Gardner Dozois bio “The Hagiography of Gardner Dozois”, after which a collaboration by the two authors appears. “Ancestral Voices” is akin to The Thing in telling of a black-tape alien feeding on humans, from NYC to a Vermont farmhouse. A classic thriller, granny has something in store for the alien in the barn. “Ancestral Voices” is followed by another collaborative effort between the two writers: “The City of God”. Later expanded into a novel, the novella here opens on a memorably depicted scene: an aging man shoveling coal in an industrial yard meets the competition—a strong young man new to the team. What follows is a dystopian nightmare, culminating in a rock-and-hard-place decision none of us would want. Great, great mood.
too-too-lu-lu Interlude.
“The Dead” is a play set in a corporate world where executives are replacing low level workers with even cheaper zombies. It's a cynical take on modern business delivered through effective dialogue and metaphor. If only it weren't true.
Lu-lu-too-too (?) Back to the program.
“They Fell Like Wheat” is an essay that perpetuates victim mongering among certain sf enthusiasts. It plays the “grand master” card. No more need be said. “A User's Guide to Postmoderns” is a semi-comedic, semi-serious discussion on the state of fantasy in the spectrum of 80s and 90s culture. Splitting hairs, mountain out of a molehill, much ado about nothing—whatever you want to call this type of discussion, it has not aged well. The short story which follows, “Ships”, does, however. It's brilliant presentation. The tale extrapolates a couple's marriage troubles into a fantastical motif—yin-yang, time drift (with sodomy), an anti-hero ship captain, heaven, rape, murder. A savage story with real heart.
The final tryptych of pieces is: “In the Tradition...”, a nice summary of excellent fantasy titles, some remembered, some forgotten, “Growing Up in the Future”, an essay reflecting on the social transition from science fiction as the future to science fiction as the present—William Gibson's 'the future is now”, and the final story in the collection, the novella “Griffin's Egg”. In some ways classic science fiction and some ways something new, “Griffin's Egg” tells of lunar laborer Gunther Weil who becomes an unlikely hero when nuclear war breaks out on Earth. More than one sound from The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress echoes through the novella, but the story, while uneven, is distinctly Swanwick's own.
In the end, Moon Dogs is a mixed bag in a few ways. It's a mix of fiction and non-fiction. It's a mix of fantastika—no two stories even remotely alike. It's a mix of collaborations—four other writers contributing in one way or another, seed to embellishment. It's a mix of styles—all the stories have their own voice, baroque to theater, retro sf to magic realism-ish. And it's a mix of contemporary relevance. Some of the essays remain valuable artifacts to speculative fiction today, while others feel decidedly outdated, capsules of time rather than ongoing contributors. But most importantly, there are some sweet pieces of fiction collected here. Readers will undoubtedly have their favorites, but for me “Ships”, “Moon Dogs”, and “The City of God” are the stand-outs.
The following are the seventeen pieces, fiction and non-fiction, collected in Moon Dogs:
Moon Dogs
The Death of the Magus: Two Myths (essay)
Mickelrede, or, The Slayer and the Staff (with Avram Davidson)
Vergil Magus: King Without Country (with Avram Davidson)
Jane Swanwick and the Search for Identity (essay)
The Hagiography of Saint Dozois (essay)
Ancestral Voices (with Gardner Dozois)
The City of God (with Gardner Dozois)
The Dead
They Fell Like Wheat (essay)
A User's Guide to the Postmoderns (essay)
Ships (with Jack Dann)
In the Tradition ... (essay)
Growing Up in the Future (essay)
Griffin's Egg
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