Realms of Fantasy - October, 2004

The Stories
"Almost (But Not Quite) Heaven" – by Tom Gerencer
"Embers" – by Rudi Dornemann
"They Are Girls, Green Girls" – by Ian McDowell
"The Old Woman and the Moon" – by Steven Popkes
"King Orfeigh" – by Ruth Nestvold
"The Beast" – by Bruce Holland Rogers
"The Glass Casket" – by Tim Pratt

Realms of Fantasy is a magazine devoted to fantasy of all sorts. While the covers are usually cheesy (and almost embarrassing at times in their T&A factor), the stories inside can be quite good. This was my first issue in years, but I will be offering a proper review of the magazine after the next issue. This issue had its share of good and lukewarm stuff, as is usual.

"Almost (But Not Quite) Heaven" – by Tom Gerencer
This is a hilarious story about domestic divinity. Bill answers a knock on his door, admitting Lester, a man who talks his way inside and eventually reveals he's the "god of hors d'oeuvres." He's decided he likes the decoration of Bill's apartment, so he'll stay. Soon, a bunch of other gods and goddesses have shown up and decided to stay too. He decides not to kick them all out when they start helping out around the house. This is a delightful and short story, wonderfully witty with great writing. "The following weeks brought more of the self-proclaimed deities, whom I would have evicted at the drop of just about anything (since I do not own any hats) save for the intriguing fact that they all pulled their weight to an astonishing degree." A concept like this would wear out very quickly, but the story ends before it does that. Funny stuff.

"Embers" – by Rudi Dornemann
Sophie and her father find a "clockwork man" in their yard. Sophie lives in a village of "canal people," where commerce is dependent on the canal that runs by the village. The man, called Arturo St. George, is a representative (some would say harbinger) of the new phenomenon, the railroad. Forged by ancient dragons, Arturo needs fire to replenish his batteries and Sophie vows to nurse him back to health. As Sophie grows more attached to Arturo, a hostile mob attacks him and drops him in the river. While Sophie does move on, she never forgets Arturo. This story has a wonderful mixture of setting and character, with Sophie and Arturo standing out. While he's an automaton, she still finds herself falling in love with him. The question of whether an automaton can have a soul comes up, and the local clergyman actually has a surprising answer. This perception contrasts with the question of whether the villagers would have done what they did if they believed that he had one. It's an interesting question of artificial intelligence and sentience, but this lies under the surface. On top of it is a love story of a woman who can never forget the special man that came into her life one September morning.

"They Are Girls, Green Girls" – by Ian McDowell
This story is a story about "different" teenage girls. Rachel is the odd girl out, low on the "cool meter." She doesn't have a car, or even a boyfriend with a car. But she befriends Lily, the new girl in town, an Asian girl from Vancouver who has just moved to North Carolina. She also has green hair, mysterious eyes, and a manner about her that sets her apart from everybody else. Rachel and Lily become the best of friends. But Lily has a secret. Her grandmother is a nature goddess, and she would like Lily to come spend the rest of her life with her grandmother. This tug-of-war has been going on for years, and life in North Carolina may finally push Lily over the edge. "They Are Girls, Green Girls" is filled with pop culture references that place the story very firmly into the present day, which may be a problem in years to come if somebody reads it. However, Dornemann has captured the modern teenager perfectly, and the sense of alienation that Rachel feels is wonderfully portrayed. Lily isn't quite as good, with an odd mixture of naiveté and street smarts that doesn't seem to match. The story drags on a bit too long, but the final sequence is extremely touching. Definitely worth a read.

"The Old Woman and the Moon" – by Steven Popkes
I haven't read a lot of Popkes, but what I have ("The Fable of Savior and Reptile" and "The Ice") has been very good, so I was greatly looking forward to this story. It's a myth about a man falling in love with the Moon and drawing it down so she could be with him. For thousands of years, the world went without a night light and succumbed to evil times. It then becomes a tale of Nichiva, a woman who has made her own way in this world of men, becoming a master swordswoman and courier. She is tasked to deliver something to an old man, and he in turn tasks her to help his female companion once he is dead. She must help the woman return to her home in the night sky. This is an interesting story that's told in classic mythological form. Even the ending of the story is that way, with a dual ending depending on what you want to believe about why the moon waxes and wanes. Nichiva is a wonderful woman who develops a bond with this companion, which makes what she has to do even harder. I loved Popkes' prose and the way he keeps the reader guessing all the way to the end. Not about the woman's identity, which is blatantly obvious, but about what has to happen for the story to turn out. Excellent stuff.

"King Orfeigh" – by Ruth Nestvold
Told in second person, this story is about a king who neglects his wife so much that she eventually runs off with the king of the Sidhe. He can't bear to be without her (despite not having shown that to her when he was with her), so he tracks her down and attempts to win her back. The quote at the beginning of the story ("While this is based on the medieval tale of Sir Orfeo, you may recognize its source as one far older…") intrigued me, but unfortunately I don't recognize what it's talking about. The imagery in the story is wonderful, but there isn't really a lot of meat to it. Basically, it tells us that love can wither and die when it's neglected, that the love that bards speak of is not as pure and elegant as it is in their songs, but instead can be painful and must be nourished. The ending is a foregone conclusion. The story has a nice message and the descriptions are good, but the story just didn't grab me.

"The Beast" – by Bruce Holland Rogers
A man captures a beast, and while he's trying to figure out the best way to cook it, his pregnant wife gives birth to an unhealthy baby. For some reason, the man decides to take out his grief on the beast, beating it sadistically. Finally, the beast offers some of his spittle as medicine for the boy. When it works, the man thinks to keep the beast in comfort, but this makes what had been medicine turn out to make the ills worse. The beast only produces medicine when it's miserable. The beast is kept as a healer through many generations of the family, until an innocent child decides to set it free. Rogers spends a great amount of time at the beginning and end of the story emphasizing that nobody knows exactly what the beast looked like, which confused me a bit. Ultimately, the story is about greed and selfishness, asking the question "is there any price too high to keep you and your family healthy?" Everybody knows the correct answer, though, so it's strange that it needed to be asked. It's a very short and probably unnecessary story.

"The Glass Casket" – by Tim Pratt
This is the standout story in the issue, and a fitting conclusion. Billy Cates is wandering behind the old burned-out Safeway when he stumbles upon a girl in a glass casket. She appears to be in some sort of suspended animation, but tears still well up and begin to fall from her eyes. He's torn between running for help and trying to release her from the casket. He's afraid that the casket is sustaining her and releasing her might kill her. Ultimately, he heads home to his mother (his father had run off). Mr. Mancuso is there talking with her and Billy can sense the malevolence. He's convinced that Mancuso has something to do with the girl. Sneaking out that night, he is determined to set her free before Mancuso can find her. Setting her free, however, may give him even more trouble than he expected. This is a tale of a parent who cannot let his child go. He'll even go so far as to lock her away to make sure she never leaves him. Billy is wonderfully characterized, as is everybody else except Billy's mother, who doesn't have that big of a part anyway. She's used mainly as a contrast to Mancuso and his daughter, and works beautifully in that vein. This is a wonderful example of modern fantasy.