2008 Nebula Awards Showcase (Edited by Ben Bova)

Been on a Nebula kick for the past few months so when I saw this anthology at a local bookstore, I grabbed it immediately. I'm very grateful that a number of the recent Nebula nominees for short story are accessible online and getting to read an anthology like this really helps me to broaden my range. Two of the 2008 Nebula winners are also favorites of mine, Peter S. Beagle and Elizabeth Hand, so purchasing this was a doubly easy choice.

The anthology opens with Ms Hand's "Echo," a post-9/11 tale addressed to an unknown 'you,' (at least in the story; Ms Hand makes it clear in her brief introduction that this short story was inspired by her own epistolary relationship with a journalist). I've always wished that I wrote as well as Ms Hand does. She has a very fluid rhythm that is tempered with the right amount of emotion. "Echo" is followed by James Patrick Kelly's novella "Burn," which takes place on the planet Walden, where a colony of humans live a very tech-lite existence and have to deal with the aliens still living with them. Okay, I really did a bad job of summarizing that. What I liked about "Burn" is that the characters are very flawed and well-realized and reminds me a bit of how Ray Bradbury approaches the sci-fi elements in his short stories. My favorite of course is Mr Beagle's "Two Hearts," a novelette which continues (or ends?) his famous The Last Unicorn. I've read this before and re-reading it still manages to stir the same emotions I had during the first time. Mr Beagle convincingly uses the young girl Sooz' voice in narrating this story. I think you have to know the characters of The Last Unicorn well to fully appreciate this, though.

Also included in this collection are three science fiction poems (a first for me to read), nominee Eugene Mirabelli's "The Woman in Schrodinger's Wave Equation" (which I also enjoyed), Grand Master James Gunn's "The Listeners" (a sad yet lovely story for any SETI supporter -- yes, I have SETI@home), and an excerpt from Jack McDevitt's Seeker, the Nebula winner for best novel. This is really making me look forward to seeing and reading more Nebula anthologies available locally. I know there are more riches and depths waiting out there.

Sleight of Hand (Peter S. Beagle)

'It's in the telling, always. It's in the old, old telling,' so declares the author in "Oakland Dragon Blues," one of the stories in Peter S. Beagle's newest collection, Sleight of Hand. Mr Beagle is a master storyteller as evidenced by this gathering of thirteen tales of the fantastic, showcasing a wide range of settings and characters (from centaurs lost in New York to a cop helping a bitterly lost dragon to a very familiar magician before he meets a very familiar unicorn). The range alone already shows Mr Beagle's mastery of his genre, but the way he lets each tale unfold convinces me that he loses none of his genius no matter what he decides to tackle.

My favorites from this collection are "Dirae," Latin for the Furies, a visceral and heartbreaking look at modern monsters; "The Rabbi's Hobby," where a teenage boy and his rabbi work on an obscure mystery on top of studying Jewish law; and the titular "Sleight of Hand," where a bereaved wife and mother enters a bargain to keep Death at bay. Mr Beagle has always been one of those rare writers who can write contemporary fantasy as well as he tackles secondary worlds but this time he brought me to unexpected places. Take "Dirae." According to Mr Beagle, "In structure, language, and specific content, this may be the strangest story I've ever written(p209)." It is certainly darker than his usual tales, and the way he utilizes the tone and voice serves to mold a very unforgettable character born out of that darkness. One of the other stories I enjoyed was "Sleight of Hand." It is emotion-laden but never overwrought or sappy, in spite of how easy it is to let the story ooze with grief. There is real magic in these tales, in this telling, not mere trickery.

Looking back, I realize that I was drawn to the more contemporary tales in this collection, but that doesn't mean that the ones containing more traditional elements of high fantasy are any less effective. Fans of The Last Unicorn will be delighted to see a Schmendrick tale close the book, ending it on a poignantly familiar note. But there are no unicorns here, and the truth is, I don't mind at all. I have grown up loving Mr Beagle's work and with Sleight of Hand, I realize that I may have matured also in how I've come to appreciate his talent.

The Last Unicorn (Peter S. Beagle)

Nothing about my recent run of good fortune could have prepared me for the attending joy that followed my sighting of Peter Beagle's The Last Unicorn. Say what you will about heroic and traditional fantasy, but The Last Unicorn remains, for me, one of the must-read books of the genre.

Where one expects a happily-ever-after in a familiar medieval world, Mr. Beagle instead fashions a not-so-traditional tale. Schmendrick the magician frees the last unicorn from Mommy Fortuna's Midnight Carnival and the two set off to find what has happened to the other unicorns. Their search leads them to King Haggard, and to help the unicorn from sharing the same fate as the others of her kind, Schmendrick transforms her into a woman. It is as a woman that she discovers other magic that exists in the world--magic like love, and courage, and sacrifice.

Schmendrick's act eventually leads the unicorn, now known as the Lady Amalthea, to declare that 'I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do (p. 207).' But no one can claim that it was pure folly, for the change advents an inordinate amount of good as well. It is with this dynamic of regret and consequence that Mr. Beagle injects bittersweet realism into his fantasy, resulting in a tale over which young girls may swoon tragically and about which adults may nod sagely: "I've been there, I know that, I am no hero but I do." (Is realism always to be bittersweet? We have heroes and magicians and ex-unicorns who would probably attest to that.)

I grew up reciting lines from The Last Unicorn as my mantra. 'Take me with you,' Schmendrick implores the unicorn, 'for laughs, for luck, for the unknown (p. 44),' and she does. I came on that journey so many years ago, and as I close my new copy, I'm glad that I've never really left the path. Mr. Beagle's prose is as familiar as the dreams we inhabit, and never a stranger.