Ellen Datlow, Kelley Link and Gavin Grant, editors’ The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror: Eighteenth Annual Collection

cover artWhat’s better in this world than the best? That’s what I asked myself when I received an advance review copy of The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Like the seventeen before it, it promises some of the finest stories and poetry the year had to offer, along with information on what these genres were up to during the year. When it arrived on my doorstep, I did what any normal, red-blooded fangirl would do; I scanned the entries for hints of what was to come. I was excited to see that “And the Sea Shall Give Up Its Dead” and “Hunting Meth Zombies in the Great Nebraska Wasteland” were included, since I had heard about these stories but hadn’t had the chance to read them yet. Then I looked for my favorite authors and found Douglas Clegg, Tanith Lee, Joyce Carol Oates and Peter Straub. I allowed myself a few minutes of childish glee, then I set aside fannish things and got to work.

The problem with reviewing a book like Year’s Best isn’t the worry that some of the stories are going to be dull, badly written affairs that make you wonder why you ever decided to be a reviewer in the first place. No, the difficulty is deciding how to tackle an anthology where each entry is worthy of consideration. It would be tempting to do a story-by-story review, but the question isn’t whether the stories are any good, but rather have the editors done a good job representing this year’s cream of the crop? The editors of this edition can rest assured that they’ve done their jobs well.

Both fantasy and horror are fairly represented, and the editors have chosen stories (and authors) from all corners of each genre. Dragons soar and witches roam; vampires stalk the innocent while tales the locals tell are proven all too true. There are things in the water waiting to draw you in and pull you down, and stuffed animals have lives of their own that Winnie the Pooh could never imagine. Light and airy or dark and gruesome, there’s a little bit of everything here.

Although there isn’t a story or poem in this edition that isn’t well written, as with all things, there were some stories I loved, and others that just didn’t affect me in quite the same way. I’ll try to keep it short and sweet, but these are the stories I couldn’t resist mentioning:

“And the Sea Shall Give Up Its Dead” by Richard Mueller: an amazing look at what the Final Solution could have been … or is it just that this is a part of history that I’ve never known? Brutal and chilling, this is one of those stories you hear about that actually deserves the hype.

“Singing My Sister Down” by Margo Lanagan; one of two stories by Ms. Lanagan, this tale deals with a town’s version of capital punishment, told from the viewpoint of the condemned woman’s brother.

“A Hazy Shade of Winter” by Simon Bestwick: a Christmas story with a twist, dealing with how people deal with what they see as evil, and the twisted face of fanaticism.

“The Oakthing” by Gregory Maguire: I liked Wicked, but I think this short story is better. His turn of phrase suits this tale of an Italian family fleeing before the threat of World War II’s madness, and how a grandmother left behind survives by caring for a strange creature. This is, along with many other stories in this collection, realism with a twist, and he does an amazing job with his descriptions of a land scarred and changed due to the horrors of war.

“The Silver Dragon” by Elizabeth A. Lynn: In case you thought that I only liked the horrific, this story, the last of this edition, is a lighthearted tale of dragons, magic and true love. It’s a perfect way to ease out of the horrors, mysteries and magic of this collection, and back into the magic of the everyday world.

Poetry is also represented, as it is in every edition. Jean Esteve’s “House of Ice” is the sort of poem you read over and over; easy to do, since it’s very short, but what’s amazing is how she packs so much imagery into so few words. It’s a plaintive cry disguised as verse, one just about anyone can understand. The impish rogue of “The Changeling” by Theodora Goss made me smile, while “These Various Methods of Brightness” by Ann Ross was beautiful, but hard for me to fathom. That’s a fault of this reviewer, not of the writer; Ms. Ross’ images are beautiful, and her style is enticing. Anything that calls out to me to be read over and over again, even though I never quite understood it, is definitely worth the time, and I loved reading it. But, even if you see the talent and style of it, what works for some may not work for others.

And with that a warning: Chuck Palahniuk’s story “Guts” may not be to everyone’s taste. This story takes self-gratification and the tragedies that can ensue to new heights (or depths, if you prefer). It’s gruesome, horrifying, and Palahniuk’s prose paints visuals that are shocking at best. I was amazed by his writing, and I’d like to get my hands on more of his work. However, the editors warn that this story, “is not for the faint of heart” and I agree.

But I haven’t gotten to the good part yet. While I love the stories that Year’s Best offers, it’s the yearly writeups that keep me coming back year after year. And this year’s collection of essays are just as thorough as they ever were. The editors tell you that this year they’ve “slimmed down” a bit, and they have, yet the summations and reviews are thoughtful, informative and entertaining, as well as concise. I’d give a breakdown of some of the movies, books and other publications they mention, but part of the fun of reading these sections is discovering ’em yourself. Plus, as I’ve said before, everyone doesn’t like everything, and while I’m excited about Trash Sex Magic and Postscripts, others may find an anime listing or a film they haven’t seen more intriguing.

I was glad to see some of the books I had reviewed in the past year were mentioned, most especially Madman Stan and Edge of Eternity. But honestly, I didn’t want to know that The Mammoth Book of Vampires has a second edition out with three newly added stories. I didn’t. Oh well, there goes my allowance.

Skip around if you must (I did). Read the whole thing in order if you like. Nibble, or take the plunge. Then decide what moves you. Maybe we’ll be on the same page, maybe not. But that’s part of the fun of a compilation. You can’t go wrong, here. How could you? What’s better than the best?

(Griffin, 2005)

Denise Kitashima Dutton

Denise Kitashima Dutton has been a reviewer since 2003, and hopes to get the hang of things any moment now. She believes that bluegrass is not hell in music form, and that beer is better when it's a nitro pour. Besides GMR, you can find her at Atomic Fangirl, Movie-Blogger.com, or at that end seat at the bar, multi-tasking with her Kindle.

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