Self-imposed deadlines have no meaning, at least, not to me any more. I started Parsec issue 11 on the flight from Birmingham to Glasgow for Worldcon in August and was honestly blown away. A stellar issue of a fantastic British magazine. I should then have written about it in late August after I’d got over the con-Covid, but that coincided with a period of wondering what and who these reviews are for, and how best to go forward with Supernova, and how to find time for my own fiction..
Well it’s now November and Parsec issue 12 just dropped. I have no answers, I’m just late. So I have to speedily give you my notes on the previous issue, convince you to pick it up, or subscribe, or try some of the authors out when you can find their stuff online. Here we go!
The Packet (Part 1) – Neil Williamson
I’ll read anything Neil Williamson writes – his novella Charlie Says was a creepy and chilling masterpiece. ‘The Packet’ is part one of three, set in 1920, where ex-con Charlie takes a voyage on the packet steamer Applecross from Glasgow across the Atlantic to start a new life. The details feel right, immersive – Charlie is grieving the loss of his family from the Spanish flu epidemic and doesn’t want to get involved with cattle-class bullying and drama. He spends the first part of a difficult voyage remembering how meeting his wife turned him away from a life of crime, the hard childhood that brought him to crime. It could be historical fiction except there’s a mysterious package and some odd behaviour. All is not what it seems for Charlie. This instalment concludes in a vicious storm, where the language of speculative fiction starts to seep into the narrative, breaking the realist spell just as we reach the words “To be continued…” Looking forward to the next instalment.
Discipline Problem – Adrian Tchaikovsky
I should live long enough to catch up on everything Adrian Tchaikovsky has written! This one starts with a strong central concept but if I tell you what it is I will spoil the fun. Suffice to say that a fantasy army division – the Fourth Purpose – are awaiting orders to return to base and rest after several long campaigns, but instead they are visited by functionaries from the homeland. The story brings surprises and maintains a sense of fun in its use of the slightly exaggerated voice of the old English officer class. Somehow the story even talks about the use of armies as instruments of home repression as well as wars of expansion. Fabulous stuff.
The Inhalations – Aliya Whiteley
Aliya Whiteley gives us a glimpse of a future where people make the choice to inhabit what seems to be a new layer of reality over the top of the quotidian grind, “the inhalations” of the title. The story is set up around the meeting and conversation between two characters, one in the middle of the transformation, the other waiting to begin. We feel their hope and their doubts through glimpses of their past. Sparse, with so much left unsaid. Gorgeous.
Visiting Day – Allen Stroud
Allen Stroud’s “Visiting Day” has a simplicity to it, an elegance that reminded me of Kasuo Ishiguro’s recent Klara and the Sun. A tragic tale about a child born and bought in the future. The contrast between the purity of the child’s narrative voice and the hellish world they learn that they inhabit only emphasises the tragedy.
The Perpetual Metamorphosis of Primrose – Ana Sun
I read this story shortly after Naomi Kritzer’s Hugo-winning novelette “The Year without Sunshine” and I’d suggest that if you loved the Kritzer then you’ll love this. What they have in common is a low-key community response to the trappings of some kind of near-future collapse. A heart-warming recovery from apocalypse.
“That is how we changed our street: one prototype at a time, fumbling our way through possibilities.”
You can see in this story the nexus between cosy and solarpunk – the narrative line is a community in the near future pulling together to put together a communal vegetable garden and play area. Through this framework we see people working together for the common good, arguing and then making positive decisions, welcoming strangers, thinking the best of said strangers, and generally being kind to one another. It is genuinely lovely. What makes it speculative fiction, apart from its near future setting, is that as in the Martian each problem is approached as a problem:
The Crossing from Syria Planum – Val Nolan
Val Nolan’s “Crossing from Syria Planum” is an angry allegory about the treatment of “small boat” refugees in the UK and elsewhere. In this story, the migrating refugees are returning from war-torn Martian colonies to Earth and the moon. It is powerful and effective. If it feels a little on the nose, well, that’s the nature of this kind of allegory. I wish it weren’t so on the nose, I like subtlety in fiction, but maybe this one will stay powerful beyond its moment. Maybe.
Invitation – Ruth EJ Booth
A different take on the issue of migration. Where Nolan is angry and direct, this is nuanced and edgy. Nolan’s allegory is of a sea voyage, Booth takes us over land borders, this time into Scotland. This story asks the question, what would you give up for a better life in a different country?
May is our immigrant and we see her life helping out at the Community Hub as she completes her immigration procedures, flashing back to her arrival in Scotland, sacrificing her canine teeth to cross the border from England. Wait, canines? A nod to Octavia Butler, these ‘Kindred’ immigrants add an extra layer of ambivalence to the story – are these immigrants dangerous? Well yes, and how do we as readers interpret that part of the allegory? Can refugees drain the blood of their new homes figuratively or literally? Throw in Scottish independence too, for good measure. It’s brilliant – richly realised, and even better – the allegory is just the background. This is May’s story, and nothing about it is simple.
Western Approaches – Ian McDonald
Ian McDonald’s Hopeland was my favourite novel of 2023 and so I was excited to see a new story in Parsec. It does not disappoint. It’s about a storm off the Hebrides that may be an event horizon, a nexus between parallel universes. Moya is the pilot of the planes used to study the phenomenon, to take pictures. She was born in the islands, a twin, and “twins are always uncanny in island belief”. So when one of the objects they see also examining the phenomena is revealed to be another plane, well, you can guess who its pilot might be and it won’t spoil the story one bit. Beautifully told, everything is in the detail, steeped in the real.
An excellent issue – a banger from editor Ian Whates, and if you want to try Parsec then this is the issue to pick up. I’m genuinely excited to see what’s in #12.
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