#urban centres that are dens of lies

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #633

Top Ten Fictional Cities

If there’s one thing I like in my fiction, it’s a good sense of place. You want to be immersed in an alternative world; so it’s nice to know where you actually are. Of course, tons of fiction is set in real places: whether that’s an historical drama like The Crown necessarily inhabiting the palaces Queen Elizabeth did actually occupy; or a film such as The Full Monty being specifically set in contemporary Sheffield; or even the bulk of the MCU taking place in what’s supposed to be a believable version of New York. Plenty of films and shows and books and everything else revel in their location; how many times have we heard “the city is a character”, usually when describing urban crime dramas (or, frankly, Batman films)? But it’s true; a great location can ground a story, or it can transport you. There can be a realness even to the most fantastical of fictional locales.

And I really do love a fictional locale. Whether it’s the unrecognisable cityscapes of the likes of Blade Runner or The Fifth Element – ostensibly set in real-world cities such as Los Angeles and New York many years hence (“many years” in Blade Runner’s case being, er, 2019) – or places that are made up entirely, it’s great to see the wildness, weirdness, and even the realism that these made-up metropoli deliver. Think about it: how many of your favourite fictions take place in not-real location? Of course you can look at total fantasies like Lord of the Rings, or sci-fi stories that exist on other planets; but whether it’s as crazy a place as Roger Rabbit’s Toontown, the sprawling cities of games like Cyberpunk 2077 or Crackdown, or even the fictionalised township of Derry, Maine in several Stephen King stories, across the gamut of genre, medium, and audience, we have places that aren’t real giving us stories that feel real.

Because, again, the best settings reinforce the fiction they envelop. I don’t want to pre-empt the list itself, but look at how Gotham and Metropolis reflect the heroes that live there. This can be both sublime and ridiculous: the way the fictionalised cities of Grand Theft Auto serve not only to reinforce the themes of the games they inhabit, but also work as subtle (and not so subtle) parodies of American life; but also the way you’d get a place like Duckburg in Duck Tales, or even Far, Far Away in the Shrek movies, that really don’t have much purpose other than giving fantastical cartoon characters a home and allowing for some wince-inducing puns when it comes to the names of shops and stuff.

Blimey, I’ve wanged on a bit this week.

Anyway, I love a made-up city, that’s what I’m saying. And that’s what this list is, if you hadn’t guessed. Now, as usual, I’ve given myself rules; one is that these are supposed to be cities. There’s one that I’m not certain of (I’ll come to it) – it might be a town, technically, but I’ve allowed it on the basis of its iconicness (is that a word?). Also, they have to be fictional; so the likes of Marvel’s New York or Blade Runner’s LA are out. As are, frankly, the in-all-but-name cities of GTA; I don’t really think Liberty City is any more fictional than the New York inhabited by the Avengers, it’s just got a made-up name to go along with its made up buildings and locations. This has also stretched to Neo-Tokyo from Akira, which is really just Tokyo with a hole in the middle. However, I am allowing Mega-City One.

I think that’s it. Let’s go on a city break!

Gotham and Metropolis (Batman and Superman comics, from 1938): yes, once again I cheat at the start. Two cities! But often they’re thought of as twin cities, so, y’know. Whatever. Anyway: they are always a yin and a yang, the light and the dark, reflections of their principal heroes. Metropolis, shining city on the hill, beacon of the future; Gotham, dark and brooding gothic vision, its windswept alleys awash with rain. They’ve been called New York in the day and New York in the night, and as representations of the beauty, optimism, darkness, and danger of cities – of American cities; of America – they’re perfect. So perfect they’re almost certainly the first fictional cities you thought of too. So perfect they can be high-tech futurescapes, twisted neon-drenched, fume-belching furnaces, or just broadly realistic interpretations of real places (in Donner’s Superman, Metropolis is literally New York, Statue of Liberty and all). No fake place is as redolent. They are the ur-cities. And, of course, they have the best superheroes.

Coruscant (Star Wars stories, officially from 1997): the retro-futuristic art deco stylings of its skyline is one thing – the hovering platforms in the clouds, the vast curving domes of the buildings – but the fact that the entire planet is one big city is its big talking point. Taking the concept of sprawling metropolis (small “m”) to its most ridiculous degree, it’s a crazy sci-fi concept in a film series built on crazy sci-fi concepts.

Autobot City (The Transformers: The Movie, 1986): the notion of the Autobots – long trapped in their crashed spaceship – building a permanent city on Earth was cool enough. But the fact that it can transform into a bristling battle-station is even better. And its design is cool; a sci-fi version of a medieval fortress, moat and all. Gets extra points because, depending on who you believe, it may turn into an actual Transformer, or just have one sleeping beneath it. Fun fact: in the original script it was even referred to as “Fortress Maximus”!

Springfield (The Simpsons, from 1987): it’s a hell of a town; the schoolyard’s up and the shopping mall’s down. This is the minor controversy, because I don’t know if Springfield is a city or a town; but to hell with it, chances are if you didn’t think of Gotham or Metropolis, you thought of this place. Over thirty-odd years of the series, Springfield has developed into a believable, if exaggerated, township; we know some of these locations like the back of our hand. Moe’s, the Power Plant, the burning tyre yard, Springfield Elementary, yada yada yada. It’s a perfectly realised unreal place.

Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor (The Lord of the Rings, 1954): technically, I believe that “Gondor” is the realm and the huge walled city. Its seven walled levels climb upwards, providing multiple rings of defence, and looking somewhat like a giant swirl on top of a colossal cupcake. The promontory rock jutting out the front, and the beautiful citadel on its topmost level, make for an incredibly striking and unique design, as well as offering functionality. It’s an amazing, fantastical, incredible location.

Mega-City One (Judge Dredd, 1977): whilst this city does contain New York, it also stretches across pretty much the entire eastern seaboard of the US, so it’s, y’know, big. Possibly the poster child for sprawling post-apocalyptic metropolis, it’s a vast, corrupt, horrible place overseen by a fascist police force. Pick your depressing sci-fi trope, it’s here. Interesting to ponder what it says about the British view of America, really.

Ankh-Morpork (Discworld stories, from 1983): possibly lower down the list than some would have it, because (whispers) I’ve not read much Discworld. But as a place, it’s incredibly well-realised, a brilliant multifaceted fantasy location that feels incredibly real and dynamic and lived-in, and (typical for Pratchett) reflects our own world so perfectly.

Rapture (BioShock, 2007): it’s part-city, part underwater laboratory, yeah? But the notion of a man-made utopia going to pot is a common sci-fi go-to. Here, the distinct areas of the city, and how they reflect the various obsessions and perversions of the pseudo-fascist nutters who ran the place, are beautiful to behold and terrifying to ponder. Plus, as an emergent and interactive bit of design, the location is tremendous to wander around, the retro art design great to behold, the distressed and decaying façade of gaudy old-timey whimsey disturbing but also quaintly amusing.

Zootopia (Zootopia, 2016): cities in talking-animal movies usually just look like real cities but there’ll be dreadful puns, like a burger place called “McDognald’s” or something. Zootopia tries to imagine how all these different animals would co-exist, with fascinating results, including different temperate zones, vast tubes connecting different areas, and buildings of varying sizes that result in our relatively-diminutive leads towering kaiju-like over the proceedings.

San Angeles (Demolition Man, 1993): I was worried this was a bit of a cheat too, as it’s an amalgam of two real cities, but this new metropolis emerged from the ashes of a devastating earthquake so – like Mega-City One – it counts. And for once we have more of a culture than a design that stands out; true, the three seashells and sexy curvy cars are a highlight, but it’s the way this city imposes its morality, the way the future erased 20th century vices, and the way – frankly – everyone speaks that sets this out as a fascinating little town of tomorrow. Be well, San Angeles. Be well.

[challengerbmxmag]

Sam Waller Interview

Sam Waller co-runs, the UK based Central Library, “a shop in the North West of England that sells zines, DVDs and other interesting bits and pieces.” He’s also part of the current resurgence of quality independent BMX media with his Red Steps magazine. In addition to that he finds the time to contribute to Challenger with his quarterly column, ‘Notes From A Fancy Island’ and of course, ride. And, when you talk to Sam, you can tell that riding reigns supreme.

Sam and I email back and forth fairly often because of the column but also about other random stuff like old spots, concrete skateparks, music, etc. It’s fun to email with Sam so I figured it would also be fun to ask Sam some more in-depth questions. Hit the link below for the full interview.

All photos by Gaz Hunt. Thanks, Gaz!

I know you live in Manchester, England now but where did you grow up and what is your BMX origin story? I grew up in the complete middle of nowhere in a place called Colton in the south of the Lake District. Whilst the countryside in film and television is often shown as a tranquil, quaint place, the reality is a fair bit different, and Colton in particular seemed like a hotbed for strange stuff going on. Only recently a large farmhouse was burned down by a wild woman who owned loads of pigs. She was exiled from the county, but the pigs remained to cause havoc.

Anyway, my older brother has played guitar since he was six or seven, but as I was a useless at it and couldn’t get my hands to move properly, I felt obliged to find a similar all-encompassing past-time.

I was mad on Formula 1 racing for a while (thoughts go out to the Schumacher family), and I went to a karate lesson once (a hobby quickly scrapped after the whole hour was spent being taught how to bow honourably), but up until the age of 12 or 13 it just felt like I was dawdling about.

All of this changed when, for some reason I’m not entirely sure of, me and my friends decided to make some jumps and drops and stuff to ride on our mountain bikes in some woods near a dual carriageway.

One of my friends knew some older lads from nearby who had proper bikes and Little Devil hoodies, so I think they must have planted the seed of raditude with him, but I think at that time I was just happy to be out the house and not playing Tekken 2. We later found out that the woodland we’d chosen was a popular dogging site frequented by truck drivers (I'm not sure if 'dogging' exists in America - maybe look it up), and quickly moved our spades and everything into another forest. By that point the damage was done and my mind was snagged.

After a bit of bouncing about on a mountain bike, I then splashed out on a second hand Standard that someone had painted post-box red, affixed some stunt nubs and never looked back (or lookbacked, for that matter).

The nearby town of Ulverston had a pretty big riding and skating scene, but thinking now about us lot trying to lay down ‘street style’ in this small historic market town, we may as well have been the Jamaican bobsleigh team — the rough ledges were strictly for stalls, and the closest thing to a flatbank was a grass verge round the back of a Texaco garage.

What were some of your biggest inspirations as a kid and what about now? I always think about how the 16 year old me would probably make fun of some of the things I'm into now. Is that the case with you at all? Apart from the receding hairline and the slight increase in responsibilities, I think I’ve stayed pretty much exactly the same since I was 16. Back then I think my favourite film was probably Natural Born Killers, and my favourite album was maybe something like Bad Moon Rising by Sonic Youth. Whilst I’ve maybe expanded my interests a little, I’ve pretty much been in a rut since then.

I’m not into memes or internet humour in the slightest, but I remember someone once showing me a video of a wrestling fan in America crying and shouting, “It’s still real to me, dammit.” That’s how I feel about a lot of things I was into back then. A lot of people who I went to school with moved on from being into music and films and pissing around on bikes, whilst I’m still snagged on it all, listening to The Minutemen and wearing check shirts. It’s pretty stupid really.

What's The Fancy Island? Good question. Just next to Strangeways prison and only a mere stone’s throw from Manchester’s slick centre, lies a true rat-pit of questionable activity. I’ve seen loads of stuff happen here, such as an aggressive man chase a prostitute with a two-by-four and a creep lying in an alley trying to lure small boys into his lair.

In amongst all this, there’s loads of naff wholesale shops that sell everything from low-end Halloween costumes to fake Air Jordans made out of cardboard and fuzzy felt. All these shops have mad names like EEZZEE and Vibe Centre.

Getting to the point now, coming up with titles for things is pretty difficult, so a few years ago when I was cobbling together a zine, I nicked the name Urban Mist from one of these shops, and then, when I went to set up a Tumblr during the carefree pre-Instragram era, I nabbed ‘Fancy Island’ from a similar establishment.

I think Fancy Island has closed down now, but it’s no doubt been replaced with yet another shop with a daft name selling cheap batteries and t-shirts with swear words on the front.

Whilst I’m explaining names, I’ll state that Red Steps is a classic spot in Manchester that I ride past on my way to work every day. It boasts a rusty, needle-thin flatrail, a few small stair-sets (that are indeed red) and a large flow of gormless students to crash into. I’m not too sure why I named a magazine after it, but it just struck me as a funny name for a spot and I was struggling to think of anything else.

One thing I struggle with is balancing how to take BMX seriously while balancing a sense of humor about it as well; i.e. it's pretty goofy but is also this amazing vehicle for new experiences, ideas, and a pretty incredible community. Do you ever think about this? Like with most things in life (except crucial necessities like eating and breathing), riding bikes is pretty stupid and abstract if you try and think about it too hard. That said, I don’t see why bike riding should look goofy (apart from actual goofy-footed grinding - as a self-confessed goofy grinder myself I’ve got a lot of time for George D, Ralph and Dave McDermott) — riding is loads better than pretty much all other activities, but it’s constantly being made to look daft, when it could so easily look dope.

I think to stay juiced and not turn sour, you’ve got to completely ignore most things going on with riding and stick firmly to the bits that you like. I treat riding like music or films or anything else. In the same way I don’t go to the cinema to watch big summer blockbusters, I don’t spend my free time watching Corey Martinez edits or endless hours of footage from some zany mega-comp.

I’m a simple man. As far as riding is concerned, I like smith grinds, bottles of Heineken, Galaxy chocolate, black and white photos, sitting on benches and talking complete nonsense. The rest of it is irrelevant to me.

I constantly hear/read people complain about the lack of BMX magazines but there's so much cool stuff being printed right now. We've discussed this in email a bit but it seems weird that people are complaining. It's almost like people just have an idea of what they think a magazine should be and if it doesn't have look or read a certain way they are just confused. How do you feel about all of this? A solid group of people do buy things and support these independent projects and whatnot, but I think it’ll take a while for the loud-mouthed Instagram warlords to come to terms with the fact that the new magazines around might have different names to the ones they used to subscribe to 15 years ago. I suppose it’s maybe easier to talk about the lack of magazines out there than actually go to the effort of seeking them out, but having said that, it’s not exactly hard to find stuff these days.

I remember years ago hunting down anything beyond Dig or Ride was an absolute hassle involving a lot of e-mail mither and blind faith - but now with yourself, Berks St. and 90East stocking interesting stuff in America, me and Clarky doing Central Library over here and the newly formulated Wiretap down under, it’s easier than ever for anyone to get their hands on zines and DVDs and all that.

The new stuff that’s coming out now is ten times better than Dig or Ride ever were anyway. Endless contest reports and dull bike checks have fallen by the wayside, and I haven’t seen a photo of Jimmy Levan’s zebra-print leggings in years. Things are really looking up.

What do you do for work? Thoughts on pursuing money via BMX and also what's the best job you've ever had? By day I work in an office writing stuff for a clothes shop. As you can imagine, trying to come up with an interesting way to talk about the 659th blue shirt you’ve seen this week can get a bit tough, but I can’t complain too much really. The office is fairly warm and there’s a kettle in the kitchen.

As for pursuing ‘serious wonga’ via riding, I’m one step ahead of you. Central Library has just received big investment from Duncan Bannatyne and Deborah Meaden (of Dragon’s Den fame), meaning we’re finally able to stock all those bizarre Caramac-coloured tyres that real bike shops seem to stock. We’re also expanding our print line to offer crime fiction and the Goosebumps novels. My main aim in life is to become one of those creepy industry characters who spends their time sniffing around young and naïve talent in the hopes of flogging a few ‘dad caps’.

My finest job was probably working for my dad in the family trade of dry stone walling (which explains my surname). I’m not sure if dry stone walls exist in America, but they’re those fairly humble looking stone walls you see dividing up the fields and forests around the English countryside.

Anyway, building them isn’t too bad as far as manual labour goes. When it’s raining and you’re miles up some hill wallowing in the mud lugging big stones around with nothing more for lunch than a chicken and mushroom Pot Noodle and a Penguin biscuit, then it’s a little miserable – but on a good day when the sun is shining and you’re working with ‘good stone’, it’s hard to beat.

The best days were when my dad would fall asleep just a few minutes before the end of the lunch hour, basically extending the break for at least another 45 minutes. Thinking about this job now, I’m not sure why I ever gave it up.

Do you have any other hobbies besides riding? Yeah, but I’d say the lines were pretty blurred. This is maybe a pretty boring answer, but I suppose riding lends itself to other hobbies pretty well. I might be wrong, but I don’t think keen swimmers or budding javelin-throwers get into photography or making videos in quite the same way. It’s sort of like the ‘pillars of hip-hop’ or something – riding, taking pictures, messing round with video stuff and generally snooping around all fits together nicely (or at least it does in my peppered mind).

It’s not like I’m slipping on my Etnies t-shirt for my weekly two hour power sesh and then the next night I’m wearing some short-shorts down at the climbing wall. Even when I’m on holiday with my wife, I’m still just snooping around the same way - we’re not buying tickets for some naff rollercoaster or dining out at exclusive restaurants with Abe Froman.

Are you able to take time off of riding and not feel like you're missing out or feel guilty? I have one friend who really goes in on the guilt tripping if I don't ride. Related: You said you like sitting on benches. Can you do that on a nice day? At the age of 28, I’d like to feel like I can just about deal with a few missed sessions. Obviously I still need a comprehensive run down of spots seshed and feats accomplished when I’m away, but it’d be mad if I was out all the time. The human body can’t handle that much raditude.

Fear of things going un-photographed does creep in sometimes, but Clarky will have filmed it anyway, and Gaz and Wozzy are better photographers than me, so if they’re about then hopefully someone caught the action.

Moving onto the subject of benches, these babies really come into play during my dinner break at work. I get on fine with everyone there, but when the clock strikes twelve I’m not going to be sat in the office spilling reheated chilli over my keyboard… I’m straight out into the city centre on full sit-off mode – hopefully getting into some daft conversation with one of Manchester’s many vagabonds.

A few months ago I was sat in town when I was approached by a fairly scruffy gentleman who was bleeding loads from his forehead after someone kneed him in the skull. The rest of my lunch break was spent trying to sort him out a bit. One meal deal, some wet wipes and a pack of king-skins later, he seemed alright. You don’t get these hijinks sat inside all day.  

I was just thumbing through the new Red Steps (nice job) and I just realized how much I enjoy your interviews -- what is it that you like about interviews? Not trying to stroke the ego here but you are really good at it... Cheers. Any ego strokes are much appreciated. This maybe sounds a bit daft, but I want to know everything. This is probably evident to the people who know me, but I’m a complete mither, completely hassling everyone with questions all the time.

This pesky nature extends into everything, meaning that I spend a lot of time reading a lot of interviews about the things that I’m into. I buy a lot of old copies of magazines like Wire, Ray Gun and Sidewalk on eBay, and even though the interviews contained within those pages might have been conducted in the corner of a pub maybe 25 years ago, they’re still worth reading today.

A proper interview with a little intro and some photos laid out nicely on a page… it’s mint – it’s a finished thing – sort of like a well-edited video or something. I know a lot of people are into ‘podcasts’ these days, and that’s fair enough, but to me – they’re not complete enough. I don’t want to hear people say ‘um’ and ‘err’ all the time, and I want something sick to look at (and by that, I don’t mean a load of pundits sat around a table with headphones on).  

I’m going to rattle on here whilst I’ve got the chance. Anyone reading this who gets the opportunity to answer questions for an interview, a ‘bike check’ or anything else…don’t just write a lazy sentence for each answer – go mad. Tell some funny stories. Or if you’ve got nothing to say, just make something up. No one cares about how responsive your headtube angle is or how you ‘usually just cut the bars down’. This could be your only chance to air your thoughts into the wider world, and you’re going on about what PSI you put in your tyres? COME ON PLEASE TRY HARDER YOU BORING GIMPS.

(above) Spread from Sam’s zine, Latvia Photos. (below) Cover of Sam’s zine, Around Town.

You also make photo zines/books not related to riding. Do you have any high art aspirations with this stuff? No real aspirations I’m afraid. Wine gives me bad heartburn, so I generally try and swerve anything resembling a gallery opening schmooze-off. As I was sort of saying before, making photo zines is just an extension of everything else. I like taking photographs, so it makes sense to put them together. It’s all pretty small-time really – it’s not like I’m getting thousands printed.

To be honest, it’s all a complete faff that I could easily avoid by not bothering and just sitting around watching American power-dramas, but it’s good to have stuff to look back on – even if it’s just a 40 page zine that nine people will see.

Crouching under a tattered old curtain processing rolls of film every night whilst being mithered by my cat isn’t particularly glamorous and I’d imagine there are probably easier ways to get cosy with the artistic elite.

What's your favorite slang word? Going back to my walling days, my dad uses some pretty intriguing slang terms. Unlike inner-city slang, which will usually be documented in music or useless BBC3 comedies, these more rustic words don’t get much recognition. I don't use these terms myself, but I certainly respect them. Here’s a few choice cuts…

“A few skins on the job” – a large workforce “Keitel” – a fairly humble work-jacket “Bait” – lunch “Bray it – hit it “Kessen” – when an unclipped sheep falls over onto its back and can’t get up due to its weight. This happens more often than you’d think.

You can buy scoop up a copy of Sam’s magazine, Red Steps, in the Challenger web shop here, look at the online shop, The Central Library, that Sam runs with Clarky here, and check out some of his other photo zines/books here.

[aion-rsa]

The Best Books of 2021

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It’s been a difficult year for the publishing industry, as global supply chain issues and labor and paper shortages have led to delays. But many wonderful and nerdy books have made it over those obstacles to make it into the world and into our eyeballs and brains. As we reflect back on 2021, here are the books—from horror to fantasy to science fiction—that meant something to Den of Geek staff and contributors over the past year, as well as Den of Geek readers’ choice for the best book of 2021.

The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix

2021 has seen something of a slasher renaissance in film, with the Fear Street Trilogy, Candyman and Halloween Kills—and, true to form, the book world is right on trend. Grady Hendrix’s latest (he’s the author of the excellent novels Horrorstor, My Best Friend’s Exorcism and The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires) focuses on a group of women whose lives were changed in their teens when they became the focus of real life serial killers. This is “real life” in Hendrix’s novel’s world, though each killer is inspired by the tropes of classics from the 70s, 80s and 90s from Halloween, to A NIghtmare on Elm Street to Scream.

This is a meta romp, packed with black comedy as well as Hendrix’s distinctive compassion for his characters. He’s proven time and again how adept he is at writing women and this group of dysfunctional, damaged former final girls are no different. What happens to you if the most significant event in your life occurs in your teens? And how would you react when the killings start all over again? A zippy, clever, funny book that’s a must-read for slasher fans everywhere. – Rosie Fletcher

The Liar of Red Valley by W. L. Goodwater

This urban horror fantasy is a masterwork of world building that manages to make its small American town of Red Valley both instantly recognizable and unsettlingly “other.” Flirting with the YA genre (though at the violent and scary end of that spectrum), our protagonist is Sadie, a young woman whose mother has just died suddenly from a very fast acting cancer. Sadie’s mother was the titular ‘liar’ a magical role the town has always had, and that duty now falls to Sadie. With an offering and a sacrifice, the Liar can make your lies come true. But it’s a curse as much as a blessing. 

A tale of monsters and magic, superstition and tradition, Red Valley is pleasingly grounded in reality, with the California town troubled with poverty, racism and addiction, while ostensibly under the protection of the elusive “King” who keeps the residents safe from the monsters that lurk outside “The King’s Peace.” Red Valley has its own share of horrors, not least the drug addled “laughing boys” one of the most chilling (and tragic) creations we’ve read in a while. “Do Not Trust The Liar, Do Not Go In The River, Do Not Cross The King” run the rules. But Sadie is on a mission to uncover the real truth. Great for budding horror fans who enjoyed things like Cuckoo Song and Half Bad, and a riveting page turner for all. – RF

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

Another example of a modern slasher, Stephen Graham Jones’ latest novel is a dense literary horror packed with social commentary as well as a love letter to stalk and slash movies and final girls through the ages. Our heroine, Jade, is a Blackfeet Indian (like Jones) who hides from the harsh realities of her life with her deadbeat dad in the comfort of horror movies. But Jade is anything but a Final Girl (so she thinks), instead becoming obsessed with wealthy, graceful and resourceful Letha Mondragon, who is new to the area and lives on the affluent side of the lake that marks the centre of town. Jade thinks she sees the signs of an incoming massacre – if Letha is to be the savior Jade needs, she’s going to have to educate her in the rules of slashers asap.

A careful, beautifully written picture of disenfranchisement vs privilege which packs an emotional punch while managing to maintain a steady, building tension, it’s a sophisticated slow-burn which rewards patience. – RF

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When Things Get Dark: Stories Inspired By Shirley Jackson, Edited by Ellen Datlow

This compilation of short stories features some of the best contemporary horror authors around. Each tale is inspired by the essence of Shirley Jackson’s work (her best known pieces include The Haunting of Hill House, The Lottery and We Have Always Lived in the Castle) but isn’t derived or spun-off – these are original standalones which share Jackson’s themes and ethos – ghostly encounters, domestic unrest, female solidarity and dysfunction and more. It’s a packed collection and the standard is high across the board but there are standouts. Joyce Carol Oates’ “Take Me I’m Free” is a brittle snap of heartbreak, while Cassandra Khaw’s “Quiet Dead Things” explores an uncomfortable small town mentality in a nod towards The Lottery. Laird Barron’s “Tiptoe” takes the prize for the most unsettling story of the lot, following an annual camping trip that reveals something deeply unpleasant and ends with an image it’s impossible to shake, while Stephen Graham Jones’ “Refinery Road” is more quietly devastating. The longest and most cinematic of the lot is Benjamin Percy’s “Hag”, a folk fable set on a remote island with a strong narrative pull, while  Genevieve Valentine’s “Sooner or Later, Your Wife Will Drive Home” is a series of vignettes around the female experience of driving. All the stronger for the different flavours, this is an absolute treat whether you’re a Shirley Jackson nut or not. – RF

True Believer: The Rise and Fall of Stan Lee by Abraham Riesman

While superheroes have long been household names, their creators, the ones who wrote, drew, and edited the comics which birthed them, aren’t. Well, with one exception: Stan Lee. The co-creator of characters like the Fantastic Four, Hulk, X-Men, Spider-Man, Doctor Strange, and many other integral parts of the Marvel Universe is as close to a celebrity the comic book world ever had, aided in no small part by his marketing savvy, personal charisma, and ultimately by a series of beloved cameos in the most successful film franchise of all time, the MCU. If you take all of that at face value, Lee is the most important comic book creator of all time, and a towering genius of 20th Century pop culture.

But what if he isn’t?

True Believer: The Rise and Fall of Stan Lee examines that myth and puts Lee’s actual contributions in perspective with the efforts of Marvel architects and co-creators like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. Exhaustively researched and as gripping as any novel, True Believer is both the definitive Stan Lee story and a fascinating history lesson. 

It’s a history lesson that may annoy fans who choose to buy the Disney/Marvel company line about Lee’s achievements. But while True Believer is certainly no hagiography, and some of its revelations may seem harsh, it also takes a sympathetic look at Lee’s personal life, especially his tragic final years where forces who didn’t have his best interests in mind aligned to control and exploit his legacy. Whether you’re a comic book scholar or someone curious about Lee after exposure to him via the MCU, True Believer is essential, riveting reading. – Mike Cecchini

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

Light from Uncommon Stars wasn’t written as a pandemic book, but for me, in the midst of a world filled with chaos and loneliness, ever-moving goalposts and inconsistent information, reading a book that touches on all of those things with a fully blossoming sense of hope was exactly what I needed. The story centers on violinist Katrina Nguyen, a young trans woman who runs away from home, only to realize that the friends she trusted to take her in aren’t reliable. She soon finds herself under the guidance of Shizuka Satomi, a violin teacher who sees her as a protege, when Shizuka meets her in the park and offers her a donut. Except that Shizuka sells the souls of her students to hell in exchange for her own freedom, and Katrina will be the final soul that fulfills her bargain. And the donut came from Starrgate Donuts, which is run by aliens under the command of Captain Lan Tran, building a stargate on Earth as they hide from the Endplauge.

The three women’s lives come together in strange, sometimes miraculous ways, and Aoki seamlessly weaves together two disparate genres like a master conductor directing the parts of a symphony. While selling souls, galactic pandemics, and the prejudice and dangers faced by trans women could have made this a grim, weighty novel, the story is infused with so much love, and a sense that there is meaning and value in life, that it left me feeling as though I’d listened to a life changing musical performance, complete with tears and laughter. – Alana Joli Abbott

Leviathan Falls by James S.A Corey – (Readers’ Choice)

Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck’s political space epic wrapped up in November with Leviathan Falls, the ninth and final novel in The Expanse series. (March 2022 will see the release of new Expanse novella The Sins of Our Father, as part of the Memory’s Legion anthology collection.) Picking up after the events of Tiamet’s Wrath, Leviathan Falls sees Holden and the rest of the Roci crew continue to fight for humanity’s future in the wake of the collapse of the Laconian Empire. With 1,300 systems now liberated from under Winston Duarte’s cruel rule, the future feels more hopeful than it has in a very long time.

Reflecting back on the last ten years of work and what he and writing partner Franck hoped to do with the saga’s much-anticipated ending, Abraham told Polygon: “Part of what we were doing with the whole series was making the argument that history is prophecy, that humans don’t actually change much as an organism. The stuff we were doing in Rome, we’re doing now. And the happy ending that we have is, now we’ve got 1,300 chances to get it right. Now, maybe somebody will figure it out. One of the reasons I think the epilogue is short is, I’m not sure what that would look like.”

With The Expanse TV series currently airing its sixth and final season on Amazon Prime, this is the end of an era for the genre-defining world that has been one of the most rewarding sci-fi storytelling experiences of the last decade. Fittingly, Leviathan Falls is not only one of our best books of the year, but the readers’ choice for the honor.

A Test of Courage by Justina Ireland

This was probably the first book I read in 2021, and it has remained a favorite not just because it was part of the launch of the new Star Wars: The High Republic initiative, but because I read it aloud with my kids. Our family shares a love for Star Wars—we watched all of Rebels and The Mandalorian together—but this is the first time I’ve shared my love of Star Wars in its written format with my children. The whole High Republic initiative is amazing, in that it’s fostering that sense of family reading, and Justina Ireland captures so much of what we love about the Star Wars universe in this first book. In the story, newly minted Jedi Knight Vernestra Rwoh and three younger characters—Avon Starros, an eleven-year-old inventor; Imri Cantaros, an empathic padawan; and Honesty Weft, a twelve-year-old Ambassador’s son—are stranded on a hostile moon after an attack from the brutal pirates, the Nihil, destroys their starship. As the young characters deal with their grief, they must also find a way to survive—and warn the Republic about the Nihil threat.

I loved this book because, in addition to capturing the real space-fantasy adventure tone I love, Ireland so deftly engages with the emotional turbulence of her young characters. In the films, the Jedi frequently reject emotions like fear and anger, but Ireland gives the Jedi a more complex reading than that. My youngest reader, on the other hand, loved this book because of Vernestra’s fantastically cool lightsaber. The fact that the novel works on adult and kid levels—and that I could share my fan-love with my kids—makes this one of my top reading experiences of the year. – AJA

The Unbroken by C. L. Clark

Some of my favorite books in recent years have featured main characters that hang in the balance between two cultures and nations—Kacen Callendar’s Queen of the Conquered and Arkady Martin’s A Memory Called Empire among them. That perilous space of not quite fitting in, of striving to be something and never quite succeeding, is also key to C. L. Clark’s The Unbroken, a fantastic series launcher that brings readers to Qazāl, an occupied nation rebelling against the Balladairan Empire. Touraine is a member of the Colonial Brigade, conscripts stolen from the colonies as children and forced to serve as soldiers, now facing the job of peacekeeping people who look like them—people who might be related to them. Touraine stops an assassination attempt against Princess Luca, but things almost immediately go wrong when the rebels capture Touraine, and she’s framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Saved from the rebels but faced with court martial, Touraine is only saved through Luca’s intervention. The princess takes Touraine on as an aide, knowing Touraine could be a valuable tool in forging a peace through negotiation, rather than war.

But of course, war and colonization aren’t simple, and Clark never lets the answers to any of the problems be easy, especially when Touraine knows the first soldiers sacrificed in any conflict are the conscripts, her first found family. The questions of whose loyalty is earned, who becomes your family, and what it means to exist in a space between two worlds are so phenomenally explored. The tension and connection between Touraine and Luca, who might have been friends or lovers without the huge power differential between them, and whose dynamic goes through a series of stormy changes, resides at the heart of the novel. With characters so easy to empathize with, even when they make regrettable choice after choice, a deeply textured world, and intriguing magic, this has me already eagerly anticipating the sequel. – AJA

Forging a Nightmare by Patricia A. Jackson

I stumbled onto this debut book through Patricia A. Jackson’s work, alongside her students, combating the book bans in the schools of York County, Pennsylvania. After following her on social media, I realized she was not only a teacher, but an author, whose first novel released in November. Though the opening of the story is on the darker side (I typically avoid novels with serial killers), it’s quickly evident that this is a novel steeped in Christian lore, and exactly the type of story that plays with and reinvents real-world legends in a way that transforms the familiar into something new. FBI Agent Michael Childs is tasked with solving the murders of several victims, all of whom were born with six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. His first solid lead, Anaba Raines, is a Marine who was killed in action. Now, she’s a Nightmare—a magic, demonic horse and the fusion of a damned soul with an archangel’s transformative will. And Michael, like the victims, is a Nephilim—and the murderer may be after him next.

The story soon brings in the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and all Hell breaks loose. (Rather, Michael breaks Hell’s sky and adopts the Leviathan as a pet. But details.) A war is coming, and Michael and Anaba are destined to play a much larger part. Jackson aces bringing in mythological and religious references to create a complex cosmology for her world, while also grounding the human characters through relationships that spiderweb out from the main cast. It’s an excellent debut that meshes crime fiction and horse novels with the apocalypse, and the ending promises more to come. – AJA

Redemptor by Jordan Ifueko

Ifueko’s Raybearer was one of the 2020 reads I adored, so I had very high expectations for this sequel—which fulfilled every one of them. Redemptor picks up the story of Redemptor Empress Tarisai, who pledged to end a treaty that sacrifices children to the underworld to appease demons. Now those sacrificed children, the ojiji who appear as desiccated corpses, torment Tarisai, demanding that she do more, be more, and insisting that she is unworthy. To fulfill her promise Tarisai must bind the vassal royals of the empire’s nations to her magic; to do so, she must make them love her. Because she spent so long viewing herself as unlovable, as a monster, and because the ojiji are more than happy to reaffirm all her self doubts, navigating a path to the love of others is even more challenging. Meanwhile, she begins to realize just how much wealth the rulers of the Empire have been hoarding, and how many children have been sacrificed to the altar of their wealth, with no treaty to blame. As she began with Raybearer, Ifueko continues her exploration of justice, deepening it into the cost of broken systems. Tarisai’s quest to use her power for the betterment of others inspires, and her constant doubts that she is ever doing enough resonate. Ifueko’s expansive cast is well managed, with clear frontrunners shining in the narrative’s spotlight without ever undermining Tarisai’s story. For much of the novel, Tarisai feels alone (an emotion all too easy to empathize with this year), and her triumph over those critical voices in her head (evil spirit or otherwise) hits exactly the right note. This is a perfect pick for anyone who has ever worried that they aren’t enough; Tarisai’s story will feel achingly, inspiringly familiar. – AJA

Flowers for the Sea by Zin E. Rocklyn

I love Zin E. Rocklyn’s short fiction, and I looked forward to her novella for months before it was released. I was absolutely not disappointed. In the story, Iraxi is pregnant, one of the few successful pregnancies of a people who live aboard an ark, fleeing the flooding of their homeland. But Iraxi doesn’t fit in among the refugees; her own people were reviled long before the flooding, and now Iraxi is treated with both contempt and hope, because she might bear a future for the people. Iraxi is no glowing pregnant woman. Everything about her condition makes her miserable, and everything about her current life, living in a decaying boat among a dying people who hate her, remind her of the life and family she lost. When Iraxi begins to see visions of sea monsters, it’s easy to question whether she’s a reliable narrator—and that uncertainty about Iraxi’s perspective is unsettling in all the right ways.

The book is a short 112 pages, but each page is packed with glorious description in gorgeous prose. Rocklyn’s poetic language doesn’t distance the reader from the horrors, both realistic and magical, that she describes, and the story is not for the faint of heart. But this story of anger is also one of transformation, and of survival, made haunting by its dreamlike telling. – AJA

Charles Addams: A Cartoonist’s Life by Linda H. Davis

Creepy? No. Kooky? Maybe. Linda H. Davis sees cartoonist Charles Addams as far more mischievous than mysterious. Charles Addams: A Cartoonist’s Life is the only biography written about the creator of the perennially ooky The Addams Family, and does a wonderful job dispelling his personal mythology. Or does she? People think Chas Addams slept in a coffin, kept eyeballs in martini glasses, and showed up in a full suit in armor at non-costume parties. But these were isolated incidents blown way out of proportion. Addams hung out with Hollywood stars. He loved fast cars and beautiful women. He dated A-list actresses like Joan Fontaine, and President Kennedy’s newly widowed wife Jackie, but all three of his wives looked like Morticia Addams. Addams was the only The New Yorker magazine cartoonist whose mental facilities were questioned, and he did have vast eccentricities, but they were a delight, not a horror, and Davis brings it out in every page. – Tony Sokol

Immortal Axes: Guitars That Rock by Lisa S. Johnson

Guitar geeks get their gear on in this coffee table photography book about celebrity axes. Famous guitars played by The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, B.B. King, Jimmy Page, Tom Petty, Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, St. Vincent, Lita Ford, Susanna Hoffs, Nancy Wilson, Metallica, and Black Sabbath are ready for their closeups, and photographer Lisa S. Johnson snaps them in amazing detail. With a foreword by Peter Frampton, and an afterword by Suzi Quatro, every fret is beautifully rendered. 

Immortal Axes: Guitars That Rock frames the guitars from over 150 rock icons with the stories of those whose fingers have picked, stummed, and shredded over them. Johnson manages to capture the instruments both in their natural settings, and their surreal appeal. Whether they are weathered instruments, with scrapes and gashes as big as an F-hole, or well-preserved works of sonic art, Johnson finds the sexy. Once you get your hands on this book, you will want to get your fingers on these strings. – TS 

The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec

Thanks to the success of books like Madeline Miller’s Circe, it’s become somewhat trendy in fiction these days to wrestle with the way we’ve always been taught to think of the women whose stories have been forced to exist on the edges of a man’s in historical epics like The Odyssey. (This is not a bad thing, just to be clear and books like A Thousand Ships, The Silence of the Girls, and Ariadne are all very much also worth your time.) 

Genevie Gornichec’s The Witch’s Heart attempts to do something similar with Norse mythology, reimagining the story of the giantess Angrboda in an entirely new and intriguing way. In the old tales, she is only briefly mentioned as the mother of the trickster God Loki’s three children �� Fenrir, the wolf; Jorgamund, the Midgard Serpent; and Hel, the ruler of the realm of the dead. But Gornichec aims to change all that, crafting an empowering and tragic tale that blends a centuries-long quest with a surprisingly meaningful love story. (And one of most adorable oddball families primarily comprised of wolves and snakes you’ll ever see.) The Witch’s Heart is full of sly nods to other gods and their stories, even as it spins a necessary tale about a woman who may be fated for sadness, but who still manages to live a life of meaning along the way. A surprisingly gut-wrenching and deeply beautiful debut. – Lacy Baugher

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

If you’re looking to add more diverse fantasy to your bookshelves, you honestly can’t go wrong with Tasha Suri’s The Jasmine Throne, a queer, female-fronted Indian-inspired fantasy that is rich, complicated, and full of morally gray characters. An epic that includes half a dozen POVs, multiple kingdoms, complex magical and cultural systems, bands of rebels, interfamilial betrayal, and a fantastic slow-burn central relationship. But, at its heart, this is a story about power: Who has it? What does it cost to wield it? What is it worth sacrificing to keep it? And who is suffering under the yoke of the empire it creates?

The Jasmine Throne is precisely the sort of dense, immersive tale the fantasy genre was essentially built to tell, unfolding slowly and purposefully over a story that clocks in at over 500 pages (and is just the first installment in a trilogy!) but is so deftly told that you won’t feel most of them pass. Bring on The Oleander Sword. – LB

For the Wolf by Hannah Whitten

Fairytale retellings are all the rage right now, but Hannah Whitten’s debut novel For the Wolf takes it to the next level, mixing folklore, horror, and a dark reinterpretation of Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty and the Beast to create something that feels entirely fresh. Set in a kingdom where the royal family’s second daughter is traditionally sacrificed to the Wolf of the Wood in return for the kingdom’s safety, it follows the story of Redarys, a girl who’s grown up knowing she was essentially destined to die. 

Only, she doesn’t die. And what happens next – from the monster she meets in the wood who isn’t a monster at all to the battle against dark magic and ancient gods at its center – will both surprise and delight you. The enemies-to-lovers romance at its center is rich and satisfying, as is the relationship between Red and the elder sister she left behind – whose determination to save sibling may end up dooming the world. Whitten’s lush prose makes her Wilderwood come alive, from its literally bloodthirsty trees to its constantly creeping shadows and rot, the sort of vivid fantasy storytelling that’s all too rare these days, and a true joy to read. – LB

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward

It’s rare to find a story that can genuinely surprise you, but Catriona Ward’s The Last House on Needless Street does so in spades. The book centers on a lonely man named Ted, who lives in a boarded-up, run-down house, with his 13-year-old daughter, Lauren, and his cat Olivia, not far from a lake where young girls have been going missing. 

A book that’s almost impossible to explain without spoiling one of its many twists, it’s equally difficult to categorize (Is it a horror story? A mystery thriller? A straight-up tragedy?) and features multiple lead characters who may or may not be entirely trustworthy.  And yet, Needless Street is also one of the most emotionally affecting novels that hit shelves this year, an exploration of loss and obsession that subverts many of our preexisting expectations of what a horror story is supposed to be and do. (Even as it counts on us understanding those same tropes to misdirect and occasionally mislead us.)  Plus, there’s the presence of a very religious talking gay cat, truly the best supporting character in fiction this year. – LB

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

The fifth book in Sarah J. Maas’s  A Court of Thorns and Roses universe, A Court of Silver Flame is the first in the series to focus on a character other than original leading lady Feyre, now High Lady of Prythian’s Night Court. Instead, it follows the story of her elder sister, Nesta, a furious ball of rage still struggling to process the trauma from the events of the previous four books. Silver Flames also marks a graduation of sorts for this series: Whereas the earlier ACOTAR novels are more easily classified as YA fantasy, this sequel marks a clear step into the more adult contemporary genre occupied by Maas’s Crescent City series, and the story is all the better for it. Now featuring darker themes, a whole more violence, and, yes, some rather explicit sex, A Court of Silver Flames is largely a story about pain: How to carry it, how to process it, how to accept help because of it. 

A more complicated and often less likable heroine than her sister, Nesta’s bottomless rage and sharp tongue make her occasionally hard to root for. But Maas works hard to ground her anger as an understandable reaction to the trauma she’s experienced and allows Nesta to explore her fears and grief with a group of new characters who have all undergone similar horrors. (People may recommend Maas’ work for her swoony, sexy relationships, but she’s one of the best at writing complex female friendships working today, and that talent is on full display here, as she crafts new bonds that are ultimately a more important part of Nesta’s journey to recovery and self-acceptance than her romance with the hunky Cassian. Silver Flames may be a fairly massive tome, but it’s a great example of why Maas remains so popular as an author – and why this series is going to go on for as long as she wants it to. – LB

A Fan Studies Primer, edited by Paul Booth & Rebecca Williams

Fandom is a global force for good, bad, and everything in-between, but the academic study of it is relatively new and often underfunded compared to other disciplines. That doesn’t mean there isn’t still vital work being done in the field, as academics across the country and world work to create and articulate helpful frameworks for understanding how forces of fannishness work, and the best ways to study them. A Fan Studies Primer: Method, Research, and Ethics attempts to give teachers a resource for shaping their own fan studies curriculum and studies, especially as fandom becomes increasingly transnational and multinational, and media begins to wrestle more seriously with questions of diversity, representation, and inclusion. This might seem like a niche book recommendation for a nerd site centered more on media analysis than fandom analysis, but it’s a great read for any nerd looking to understand their own fannishness and the fannishness of those around them a little better. – Kayti Burt

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Xiran Jay Zhao offers up a vibrant, wildly entertaining debut with Iron Widow, a speculative fiction reimagining of the rise of China’s only female emperor, Wu Zetian.

In the patriarchal sci-fi world of Huaxia, 18-year-old Zetian is part of the mecha military system that killed her older sister. In Iron Widow, teen girls and boys are paired up to pilot giant magical robots called Chrysalises, used to fight the mecha aliens that live beyond the Great Wall; however, while boy pilots are revered as hero-celebrities, the girl pilots are seen as concubine, and often die from the mental strain of the piloting process. When Zetian turns the tables, psychically killing her boy co-pilot, she is paired up with Li Shimin, considered the strongest male pilot in the fleet. But that’s just the rough premise.

What follows is a queer, polyamorist romance filled with giant transforming robots and giant transforming feelings. A love letter to East Asian cultures, anime tropes, and the fight against misogyny, Iron Widow was one of the most rewarding reads of the year. – KB

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

If you haven’t encountered Mo Dao Zu Shi in some format, then you probably haven’t been on the internet in the last few years. The Chinese-language web novel, also known as The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, was published online from October 2015 to March 2016, and became very popular, spurring several adaptations across different mediums, including audio dramas in multiple languages as well as manhua and donghua adaptations. In 2019, Tencent adapted the story into a live-action drama called The Untamed, which has racked up literally billions of views across the many platforms it has been available on. Starring pop idols Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo in the central roles, The Untamed took off internationally when it was made available on Netflix in October 2019. Two years later, the original danmei finally has an official English-language edition, complete with new illustrations.

The first of three planned volumes of the English-language The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation hit bookshelves earlier this week. The Chinese xianxia fantasy novel follows cultivator soulmates Wei Wuixan and Lan Wangji fighting injustices in a fantasy version of ancient China, and it’s great. The new edition is from Seven Seas publishing, and features cover art from Jin Fang, interior illustrations from Marina Privalova, and translation by Suika with Pengie as editor. The time and care that went into translating this novel into a new edition is apparent in every page, and every word choice. In a year in which American consumers were more open to foreign-language and foreign-made content than ever, an official English-language translation of this beloved fantasy romance feels like a major moment.

What were your favorite books of the year? Let us know in the comments below.

The post The Best Books of 2021 appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[easterndaze]

Budapest’s New Underground

Although the international reputation of the country, whose PM hailed illiberal democracy as his preferred NWO, is not the best (to say the least), there's a parallel culture that largely operates independently of state-run infrastructure, creating several microcosms with their own audiences and worldviews, implicitly turning against misogyny, discrimination, narrow-mindedness, and reflecting the techno-dystopian times we are living in at the moment.         "...The goal of our underground is to create a second culture, a culture completely independent from all official communication media and the conventional hierarchy of value judgements put out by the establishment", wrote Ivan Jirous, a member of The Plastic People of the Universe, in 1975. For the purposes of this article, we will focus only on Budapest. Hungary, in general, is very centrist, even more so than its neighbouring countries. Most of the cultural happenings take place in the capital. "It is worth mentioning that to me the 'underground' seems to be an arty, intellectual, middle-class, mostly Budapest-centred, or at least city-centred thing", explains popular music scholar Emília Barna. "For instance, there is so much rap music made in the outskirts or the provinces, extremely poor areas of Hungary, scenes that thrive in these localities as well as on the internet – music that I would certainly call political because these artists directly address issues of poverty, social deprivation, criminality (gangster and prison life) etc. – yet as far as I know this music is never referred to as part of 'the underground'".

UH Fest

"A strong stage performance and powerful art are always political acts", says Krisztián Puskár, one of the organisers behind UH Fest. The experimental music staple was established at the dawn of the new millennium, taking inspiration from the now-defunct Austrian phonoTAKTIK festival. Since 2000, UH Fest (also known as Ultrahang) has staged approximately 500 performances. From noise techno, through avant-garde improv, to an hour of drone, UH Fest aims to challenge its audience's expectations and break the boundaries between various genres and generations. Thus, over the course of the week of the festival, the likes of Romanian spectralist Iancu Dumitrescu rub shoulders with Low Jack, KTL, Sote and Richard Dawson. Unlike many other similar urban festivals in Europe, UH Fest is not institutionalised, and is largely run on a volunteer basis. "To this day, we are just ordinary citizens without an institution behind us. We have a foundation, which is a legal entity, but not in terms of an office or infrastructure. It was a grassroots initiative, a family venture in the beginning, because my sister and brother-in-law were also involved", says András Nun, the organiser of the festival and one of the most pivotal figures of the Budapest underground music scene. Aside from its main event, which usually happens in late September/early October, the festival has also organised so-called "Demo" events for up-and-coming local talent, which acted as a springboard for several successful musicians such as The Death of Rave artist and Mark Fell collaborator Gábor Lázár, Opal Tapes and Lobster Theremin producer S Olbricht (whose own Farbwechsel imprint we'll discuss later), and the improv duo 12z.

OMOH

OMOH is a new addition to Budapest's queer scene, shunning the music played at mainstream gay events and embracing a more abrasive type of techno and underground house. The name itself comes from Russian police special forces and can be interpreted "as a sort of middle finger to all homophobic legislators of the world", explain the organisers, whose identity remains a mystery. "No organisers, no line-ups" is their egalitarian motto. The monthly (or so) OMOH party takes place at the top of a decaying shopping centre built in 1926, the home of the infamous Corvin Club & Bar. This sprawling venue is wedged between the 7th district, renowned for its tourist-filled ruin bars, and the up-and-coming, working-class 8th district. "Lively, chaotic, and most definitely an architectural, urban and social war zone – not postcard material. Which fits our mindset perfectly." The right-wing parties who came to prominence across Central Europe – most prominently in Poland and Hungary – championed heteronormative, Christian, conservative, nationalist values, the resonance of which can be felt in places like OMOH: "Even if club owners and managers have no problem with the LGBTQI crowd, the organisers still have to deal with the suspicion of the staff and the regulars – to put it mildly. And our audience, quite frankly, is a division of brave little foot-soldiers claiming their share of an environment which is by no means a so-called safe space."

Auróra

About 10 minutes' walk from Blaha Lujza Square, deeper into the dimly lit streets of the 8th district, the increasingly gentrified inner-city "ghetto" which is also one of the most ethnically diverse and lively areas of Budapest, lies Auróra. Located in the street of the same name, Auróra is based in an inauspicious building – you will have to ring the bell in order to get in. This family house with a cosy garden has become an oasis of alternative culture and thinking in its purest sense. Aside from its music programming – which largely centres around the weekend – the space also provides offices to several NGOs such as Budapest Pride, Roma Press Center and DrugReporter, maintained by a platform called the Auróra HUB, which is funded from Auróra's profit. The genealogy of the space can be traced back to Sirály, a former squat located on one of the busiest commercial veins of the city, at Király St 50, which was shut down in 2013. Several activist groups and a few political parties emerged from the vaults of Sirály – one of which was the collective behind Auróra (another established Gólya, a venue also located in the 8th district). Auróra's music programming is diverse, and encompasses over 40 gigs per month, ranging from free jazz, techno and punk to experimental electronics – all of this without any official state support. "The political situation doesn't let us cooperate with culture-politics at all", say Auróra's Fanni Tóth, Áron Lukács and Zsuzsi Mekler. "You can see self-censorship, fear and unpredictability across cultural institutes all over Hungary. We think the only possible way to keep this platform of NGOs and the lively discussion about issues in our country alive is to run a social centre like this, totally independently."

RNR666

RNR666, or Rock'n'Roll 666, is a music community established in 2005 by three friends from rural eastern Hungary: Csühes Pali, Lavor and Szabo, whose backgrounds include music, art and fanzine publishing. Initially begun as online radio, the RNR666 RADIO SHOW, the group widened its activities to include concert organisation, online publishing and record releasing. Their collective spirit is marked by a fiercely DIY attitude and punk-inspired ethos. They began in the era of Myspace, which connected them to the global underground and the low-budget, so-called "food-flat-and-beer bands". 10 years later, not much has changed in terms of the frugality and DIY aspect of this scene. "Lots of the venues here don't care about the fact that you want to do small, but subculturally very important events, they are just interested in profit", says Lavor as we sit in Kék Ló, an improv venue/bar in the 8th district. These days, they might do one gig per month, largely due to the lack of resources, inviting mostly foreign bands – they have to finance everything from their own pockets. This is how they released their first 7-inch, a psychedelic garage rock split between Piresian Beach, the moniker of Budapest-based singer-songwriter Zsófia Németh – who is also a member of the collective – and JC Satán. Although event promotion has shifted to Facebook, they still make posters and spread the word IRL: "I still party six days a week, so I get to talk to people that way."

Farbwechsel

Farbwechsel is a truly glocal label based on friendship and personal connections, sourcing its roster almost exclusively from local talent and organically spreading the "Budapest sound" abroad. This happened largely thanks to acclaimed producers like Route 8, S Olbricht – who established the label with Bálint Zalkai aka Alpár in 2012 – Norwell and Imre Kiss, all of whom released their debut albums on Farbwechsel. You'll often find musicians associated with the imprint jamming in each other's bedrooms, sometimes perusing vintage hardware instruments borrowed from Zoltán Balla, an avid collector and member of Farbwechsel-signed project Wedding Acid Group. Even though several artists from the label's roster have gradually begun to release music on foreign labels such as Opal Tapes and Lobster Theremin, they remain faithful and committed to the imprint that brought them recognition, and they also organise regular events in Budapest. Their sonic aesthetic has been described mostly as lo-fi house, but that doesn't do them justice. There's a sense of ghostly melancholia and longing, perhaps an aural appropriation of their home city, a place constantly hovering somewhere between the past and the present. This is most prominent in Mikolai's work, which centres around the dancefloor and transgresses it at the same time. The label roster has become stable over the last five years, with names such as Saint Leidal The 2nd, Aiwa, S Olbricht, Norwell, SILF and Alpár. 

Küss Mich

Küss Mich… and follow me to a gritty basement, where we'll dance to abandon and the music will elevate us beyond our physical selves, bodies sublimating in communal spirit. Küss Mich is a romantic event – romantic in its truest, least-saccharine sense. Founded in 2008 as an irregular DJ club event at the iconic drinking den/underground basement Vittula off Blaha Lujza Square, Küss Mich is a legendary night in the context of Budapest nightlife – a place that hailed eclecticism before it was in fashion and steered clear of the corrosive irony inherent in postmodern hipsterdom. Their sonic cocktail contains a blend of DIY-synthwave, punk, Italo disco, acid and industrial – in a concert or DJ format. "The motivation was to entertain ourselves. One of us had an industrial-dark-synth-punk background, the other came from techno and acid-oriented electronic dance music. We were both tired of the narrow-mindedness of these scenes", says Krisztián Puskár who also DJs under the moniker Splatter, one of the founders of Küss Mich alongside Gábor György alias Gördön. Adopting their outsider status and subverting expectations of the then-segregated music milieu, rediscovering past gems and presenting them alongside current sounds and bands, enabled them to navigate the muddy waters of contemporary music, aided by a devoted audience. "To choose a German name was pretty strange, fun and uncool back then. Now it's totally the opposite of that. German party and brand names will vanish or become out-of-vogue, but great people will still be there to do things on their own. And us too. If there is no money in it, there must be another motivation, right?"

JazzaJ

JazzaJ is a compound word combining "jazz" and "zaj" (which means "noise" in Hungarian). The event, which aims to bridge the free jazz and noise/experimental scenes, based on improvisation, was founded in 2011. "We wanted the noise musician to meet the free jazz musician. The underground rocker to meet the folk musician. The baroque player and the avant-garde music-philosopher to meet the electronic music geek", says Ernő Zoltán Rubik, one of the organisers of the event. Over the last five years it has grown into a communal gathering of discerning listeners, who welcome anything that JazzaJ offers them. "Listening is a creative act", adds Rubik. The main task that musicians who play at JazzaJ are given is to leave their comfort zones. "We believe in no style". Recently, JazzaJ began to invite musicians to be curators – each month a musician puts together the line-up, which sometimes creates rather interesting and surprising juxtapositions. This way, they've staged "hardcore-like nights" courtesy of Balázs Pándi, video operas with Miro Tóth, baroque and noise improvisation with Albert Márkos, and 12 saxophonists running around the room via Gergő Kovács. The JazzaJ community is sourced from the sprawling local scene, but remains tightly connected not only to neighbouring countries, but also the European and international scenes. "Our way of promoting improvisation as an act of freedom and tolerance, listening and presence, is already political without naming it so. There were times when we felt that for some people, this was a weekly refuge, a hideout from everyday cruelty and ignorant aggression taking place on social and political fields, or the streets." (photo: Attila Nagy)

T+U

T+U stands for Technologie und das Unheimliche, or the uncanny, the strangely familiar – that which repulses and attracts you at the same time. Established in 2014 as a publishing project and cross-disciplinary movement by Mark Fridvalszki, Zsolt Miklósvölgyi and Márió Z. Nemes, T+U is located somewhere between Berlin, Budapest and Leipzig. Their leitmotif is an exploration of the confrontation between the age-old dichotomy: the human condition – its various manifestations and cultures – and technology, through theme-based issues and events. Music plays an important role in their modus operandi. They have a regular radio show on legendary Tilos Rádio and create guest mixes, employing a specific sonic aesthetic that chimes with their ideology: dark, technoid, dystopian. Some of T+U's members have left Hungary for personal and political reasons. "Within the recent years, mostly due to the socially and morally harmful cultural politics of the current political establishment, there is less and less air for progressive art and subversive thoughts", says Zsolt Miklósvölgyi via email. "This catastrophic hedge-hop mainly caused by the anti-intellectualist, reactionary attitude of the ruling right-wing populist party and its substandard cultural myrmidons, obviously forces many of us into 'exile'. But within our techno-capitalist era, the image of 'living in exile' no longer means that you exchange one geo-cultural location for another, but you are in constant transition. You are not only characterised by the place you are from, but rather by the way you are rewriting these already-existing cognitive landscapes and cartographies."

Drrpnc

If you are a musician or into underground rock and extreme metal in Budapest, you will probably have passed through Keleti Blokk and the adjoining Dürer Club at some point. The sprawling complex neighbours the green oasis of the city park, whose integrity is threatened by a huge makeover that, for the foreseeable future, may replace much of the greenery with shiny concrete. Drrpnc is a secret cellar somewhere in the underbelly of the aforementioned space. A cross between a rehearsal room and a gig space, Drrpnc has become one of the city's most prominent havens for the punk/hardcore and extreme underground metal. Needless to say, the modus operandi of their activities is strictly DIY. "We have always had some challenges, such as leakage, electrical damage, etc., but the Hungarian scene is a community, so we can solve all of our problems through our common strength", says Adam Mjöl. The future remains uncertain. "This building, where we are now, will be probably demolished, so we have to start looking for a new place."

Davoria & Külvárosi Techno

The seeds of Davoria were sown around the year 2000. The collective began organising sound-system parties in the summer, as part of the then-thriving freetekno scene and its annual summer teknival gatherings. Ever since their beginnings they have always been part of both worlds – throwing events at regular clubs as well as the outdoor, illegal parties. These days, Davoria's monthly events take place at Müszi (situated in the 8th district at the aforementioned Corvin shopping mall), a space for alternative culture that also includes the offices of the civil watchdog Atlatszo.hu, as well as Auróra. The sonic identity of the event remains faithful to their beginnings: hardcore techno, noise and experimental electronics. "We call our parties tekno, because we feel that this term is open enough to represent different kinds of genres, from tekno to experimental music", explains Davoria organiser Péter Márton, who also produces uncompromising techno (or tekno) and noise under the respective monikers Telesport and Prell. Davoria also host a stage at the now-legendary underground techno event Külvárosi Techno (Suburban Techno), which takes place several times a year in the industrial premises of the large studio space and now-defunct venue R33. Ideologically, their stance hasn't changed over the last fifteen years. "We try to show that even in a commercial world, you are capable of doing productive, good things while keeping your freedom."

Originally published in Glissando magazine #30 

Lucia Udvardyova

[aion-rsa]

Best Books of 2021

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It’s been a difficult year for the publishing industry, as global supply chain issues, as well as labor and paper shortages, have led to delays. But many wonderful and nerdy books have made it over those obstacles to make it into the world and into our eyeballs and brains. As we reflect back on 2021, here are 20 books—from horror to fantasy to science fiction—that meant something to Den of Geek staff and contributors over the past year.

The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix

2021 has seen something of a slasher renaissance in film, with the Fear Street Trilogy, Candyman and Halloween Kills—and, true to form, the book world is right on trend. Grady Hendrix’s latest (he’s the author of the excellent novels Horrorstor, My Best Friend’s Exorcism and The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires) focuses on a group of women whose lives were changed in their teens when they became the focus of real life serial killers. This is “real life” in Hendrix’s novel’s world, though each killer is inspired by the tropes of classics from the 70s, 80s and 90s from Halloween, to A NIghtmare on Elm Street to Scream.

This is a meta romp, packed with black comedy as well as Hendrix’s distinctive compassion for his characters. He’s proven time and again how adept he is at writing women and this group of dysfunctional, damaged former final girls are no different. What happens to you if the most significant event in your life occurs in your teens? And how would you react when the killings start all over again? A zippy, clever, funny book that’s a must-read for slasher fans everywhere. – Rosie Fletcher

The Liar of Red Valley by W. L. Goodwater

This urban horror fantasy is a masterwork of world building that manages to make its small American town of Red Valley both instantly recognizable and unsettlingly “other.” Flirting with the YA genre (though at the violent and scary end of that spectrum), our protagonist is Sadie, a young woman whose mother has just died suddenly from a very fast acting cancer. Sadie’s mother was the titular ‘liar’ a magical role the town has always had, and that duty now falls to Sadie. With an offering and a sacrifice, the Liar can make your lies come true. But it’s a curse as much as a blessing. 

A tale of monsters and magic, superstition and tradition, Red Valley is pleasingly grounded in reality, with the California town troubled with poverty, racism and addiction, while ostensibly under the protection of the elusive “King” who keeps the residents safe from the monsters that lurk outside “The King’s Peace.” Red Valley has its own share of horrors, not least the drug addled “laughing boys” one of the most chilling (and tragic) creations we’ve read in a while. “Do Not Trust The Liar, Do Not Go In The River, Do Not Cross The King” run the rules. But Sadie is on a mission to uncover the real truth. Great for budding horror fans who enjoyed things like Cuckoo Song and Half Bad, and a riveting page turner for all. – RF

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

Another example of a modern slasher, Stephen Graham Jones’ latest novel is a dense literary horror packed with social commentary as well as a love letter to stalk and slash movies and final girls through the ages. Our heroine, Jade, is a Blackfeet Indian (like Jones) who hides from the harsh realities of her life with her deadbeat dad in the comfort of horror movies. But Jade is anything but a Final Girl (so she thinks), instead becoming obsessed with wealthy, graceful and resourceful Letha Mondragon, who is new to the area and lives on the affluent side of the lake that marks the centre of town. Jade thinks she sees the signs of an incoming massacre – if Letha is to be the savior Jade needs, she’s going to have to educate her in the rules of slashers asap.

A careful, beautifully written picture of disenfranchisement vs privilege which packs an emotional punch while managing to maintain a steady, building tension, it’s a sophisticated slow-burn which rewards patience. – RF

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When Things Get Dark: Stories Inspired By Shirley Jackson, Edited by Ellen Datlow

This compilation of short stories features some of the best contemporary horror authors around. Each tale is inspired by the essence of Shirley Jackson’s work (her best known pieces include The Haunting of Hill House, The Lottery and We Have Always Lived in the Castle) but isn’t derived or spun-off – these are original standalones which share Jackson’s themes and ethos – ghostly encounters, domestic unrest, female solidarity and dysfunction and more. It’s a packed collection and the standard is high across the board but there are standouts. Joyce Carol Oates’ “Take Me I’m Free” is a brittle snap of heartbreak, while Cassandra Khaw’s “Quiet Dead Things” explores an uncomfortable small town mentality in a nod towards The Lottery. Laird Barron’s “Tiptoe” takes the prize for the most unsettling story of the lot, following an annual camping trip that reveals something deeply unpleasant and ends with an image it’s impossible to shake, while Stephen Graham Jones’ “Refinery Road” is more quietly devastating. The longest and most cinematic of the lot is Benjamin Percy’s “Hag”, a folk fable set on a remote island with a strong narrative pull, while  Genevieve Valentine’s “Sooner or Later, Your Wife Will Drive Home” is a series of vignettes around the female experience of driving. All the stronger for the different flavours, this is an absolute treat whether you’re a Shirley Jackson nut or not. – RF

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki

Light from Uncommon Stars wasn’t written as a pandemic book, but for me, in the midst of a world filled with chaos and loneliness, ever-moving goalposts and inconsistent information, reading a book that touches on all of those things with a fully blossoming sense of hope was exactly what I needed. The story centers on violinist Katrina Nguyen, a young trans woman who runs away from home, only to realize that the friends she trusted to take her in aren’t reliable. She soon finds herself under the guidance of Shizuka Satomi, a violin teacher who sees her as a protege, when Shizuka meets her in the park and offers her a donut. Except that Shizuka sells the souls of her students to hell in exchange for her own freedom, and Katrina will be the final soul that fulfills her bargain. And the donut came from Starrgate Donuts, which is run by aliens under the command of Captain Lan Tran, building a stargate on Earth as they hide from the Endplauge.

The three women’s lives come together in strange, sometimes miraculous ways, and Aoki seamlessly weaves together two disparate genres like a master conductor directing the parts of a symphony. While selling souls, galactic pandemics, and the prejudice and dangers faced by trans women could have made this a grim, weighty novel, the story is infused with so much love, and a sense that there is meaning and value in life, that it left me feeling as though I’d listened to a life changing musical performance, complete with tears and laughter. – Alana Joli Abbott

A Test of Courage by Justina Ireland

This was probably the first book I read in 2021, and it has remained a favorite not just because it was part of the launch of the new Star Wars: The High Republic initiative, but because I read it aloud with my kids. Our family shares a love for Star Wars—we watched all of Rebels and The Mandalorian together—but this is the first time I’ve shared my love of Star Wars in its written format with my children. The whole High Republic initiative is amazing, in that it’s fostering that sense of family reading, and Justina Ireland captures so much of what we love about the Star Wars universe in this first book. In the story, newly minted Jedi Knight Vernestra Rwoh and three younger characters—Avon Starros, an eleven-year-old inventor; Imri Cantaros, an empathic padawan; and Honesty Weft, a twelve-year-old Ambassador’s son—are stranded on a hostile moon after an attack from the brutal pirates, the Nihil, destroys their starship. As the young characters deal with their grief, they must also find a way to survive—and warn the Republic about the Nihil threat.

I loved this book because, in addition to capturing the real space-fantasy adventure tone I love, Ireland so deftly engages with the emotional turbulence of her young characters. In the films, the Jedi frequently reject emotions like fear and anger, but Ireland gives the Jedi a more complex reading than that. My youngest reader, on the other hand, loved this book because of Vernestra’s fantastically cool lightsaber. The fact that the novel works on adult and kid levels—and that I could share my fan-love with my kids—makes this one of my top reading experiences of the year. – AJA

The Unbroken by C. L. Clark

Some of my favorite books in recent years have featured main characters that hang in the balance between two cultures and nations—Kacen Callendar’s Queen of the Conquered and Arkady Martin’s A Memory Called Empire among them. That perilous space of not quite fitting in, of striving to be something and never quite succeeding, is also key to C. L. Clark’s The Unbroken, a fantastic series launcher that brings readers to Qazāl, an occupied nation rebelling against the Balladairan Empire. Touraine is a member of the Colonial Brigade, conscripts stolen from the colonies as children and forced to serve as soldiers, now facing the job of peacekeeping people who look like them—people who might be related to them. Touraine stops an assassination attempt against Princess Luca, but things almost immediately go wrong when the rebels capture Touraine, and she’s framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Saved from the rebels but faced with court martial, Touraine is only saved through Luca’s intervention. The princess takes Touraine on as an aide, knowing Touraine could be a valuable tool in forging a peace through negotiation, rather than war.

But of course, war and colonization aren’t simple, and Clark never lets the answers to any of the problems be easy, especially when Touraine knows the first soldiers sacrificed in any conflict are the conscripts, her first found family. The questions of whose loyalty is earned, who becomes your family, and what it means to exist in a space between two worlds are so phenomenally explored. The tension and connection between Touraine and Luca, who might have been friends or lovers without the huge power differential between them, and whose dynamic goes through a series of stormy changes, resides at the heart of the novel. With characters so easy to empathize with, even when they make regrettable choice after choice, a deeply textured world, and intriguing magic, this has me already eagerly anticipating the sequel. – AJA

Forging a Nightmare by Patricia A. Jackson

I stumbled onto this debut book through Patricia A. Jackson’s work, alongside her students, combating the book bans in the schools of York County, Pennsylvania. After following her on social media, I realized she was not only a teacher, but an author, whose first novel released in November. Though the opening of the story is on the darker side (I typically avoid novels with serial killers), it’s quickly evident that this is a novel steeped in Christian lore, and exactly the type of story that plays with and reinvents real-world legends in a way that transforms the familiar into something new. FBI Agent Michael Childs is tasked with solving the murders of several victims, all of whom were born with six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. His first solid lead, Anaba Raines, is a Marine who was killed in action. Now, she’s a Nightmare—a magic, demonic horse and the fusion of a damned soul with an archangel’s transformative will. And Michael, like the victims, is a Nephilim—and the murderer may be after him next.

The story soon brings in the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and all Hell breaks loose. (Rather, Michael breaks Hell’s sky and adopts the Leviathan as a pet. But details.) A war is coming, and Michael and Anaba are destined to play a much larger part. Jackson aces bringing in mythological and religious references to create a complex cosmology for her world, while also grounding the human characters through relationships that spiderweb out from the main cast. It’s an excellent debut that meshes crime fiction and horse novels with the apocalypse, and the ending promises more to come. – AJA

Redemptor by Jordan Ifueko

Ifueko’s Raybearer was one of the 2020 reads I adored, so I had very high expectations for this sequel—which fulfilled every one of them. Redemptor picks up the story of Redemptor Empress Tarisai, who pledged to end a treaty that sacrifices children to the underworld to appease demons. Now those sacrificed children, the ojiji who appear as desiccated corpses, torment Tarisai, demanding that she do more, be more, and insisting that she is unworthy. To fulfill her promise Tarisai must bind the vassal royals of the empire’s nations to her magic; to do so, she must make them love her. Because she spent so long viewing herself as unlovable, as a monster, and because the ojiji are more than happy to reaffirm all her self doubts, navigating a path to the love of others is even more challenging. Meanwhile, she begins to realize just how much wealth the rulers of the Empire have been hoarding, and how many children have been sacrificed to the altar of their wealth, with no treaty to blame. As she began with Raybearer, Ifueko continues her exploration of justice, deepening it into the cost of broken systems. Tarisai’s quest to use her power for the betterment of others inspires, and her constant doubts that she is ever doing enough resonate. Ifueko’s expansive cast is well managed, with clear frontrunners shining in the narrative’s spotlight without ever undermining Tarisai’s story. For much of the novel, Tarisai feels alone (an emotion all too easy to empathize with this year), and her triumph over those critical voices in her head (evil spirit or otherwise) hits exactly the right note. This is a perfect pick for anyone who has ever worried that they aren’t enough; Tarisai’s story will feel achingly, inspiringly familiar. – AJA

Flowers for the Sea by Zin E. Rocklyn

I love Zin E. Rocklyn’s short fiction, and I looked forward to her novella for months before it was released. I was absolutely not disappointed. In the story, Iraxi is pregnant, one of the few successful pregnancies of a people who live aboard an ark, fleeing the flooding of their homeland. But Iraxi doesn’t fit in among the refugees; her own people were reviled long before the flooding, and now Iraxi is treated with both contempt and hope, because she might bear a future for the people. Iraxi is no glowing pregnant woman. Everything about her condition makes her miserable, and everything about her current life, living in a decaying boat among a dying people who hate her, remind her of the life and family she lost. When Iraxi begins to see visions of sea monsters, it’s easy to question whether she’s a reliable narrator—and that uncertainty about Iraxi’s perspective is unsettling in all the right ways.

The book is a short 112 pages, but each page is packed with glorious description in gorgeous prose. Rocklyn’s poetic language doesn’t distance the reader from the horrors, both realistic and magical, that she describes, and the story is not for the faint of heart. But this story of anger is also one of transformation, and of survival, made haunting by its dreamlike telling. – AJA

Charles Addams: A Cartoonist’s Life by Linda H. Davis

Creepy? No. Kooky? Maybe. Linda H. Davis sees cartoonist Charles Addams as far more mischievous than mysterious. Charles Addams: A Cartoonist’s Life is the only biography written about the creator of the perennially ooky The Addams Family, and does a wonderful job dispelling his personal mythology. Or does she? People think Chas Addams slept in a coffin, kept eyeballs in martini glasses, and showed up in a full suit in armor at non-costume parties. But these were isolated incidents blown way out of proportion. Addams hung out with Hollywood stars. He loved fast cars and beautiful women. He dated A-list actresses like Joan Fontaine, and President Kennedy’s newly widowed wife Jackie, but all three of his wives looked like Morticia Addams. Addams was the only The New Yorker magazine cartoonist whose mental facilities were questioned, and he did have vast eccentricities, but they were a delight, not a horror, and Davis brings it out in every page. – Tony Sokol

Immortal Axes: Guitars That Rock by Lisa S. Johnson

Guitar geeks get their gear on in this coffee table photography book about celebrity axes. Famous guitars played by The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, B.B. King, Jimmy Page, Tom Petty, Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, St. Vincent, Lita Ford, Susanna Hoffs, Nancy Wilson, Metallica, and Black Sabbath are ready for their closeups, and photographer Lisa S. Johnson snaps them in amazing detail. With a foreword by Peter Frampton, and an afterword by Suzi Quatro, every fret is beautifully rendered. 

Immortal Axes: Guitars That Rock frames the guitars from over 150 rock icons with the stories of those whose fingers have picked, stummed, and shredded over them. Johnson manages to capture the instruments both in their natural settings, and their surreal appeal. Whether they are weathered instruments, with scrapes and gashes as big as an F-hole, or well-preserved works of sonic art, Johnson finds the sexy. Once you get your hands on this book, you will want to get your fingers on these strings. – TS 

The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec

Thanks to the success of books like Madeline Miller’s Circe, it’s become somewhat trendy in fiction these days to wrestle with the way we’ve always been taught to think of the women whose stories have been forced to exist on the edges of a man’s in historical epics like The Odyssey. (This is not a bad thing, just to be clear and books like A Thousand Ships, The Silence of the Girls, and Ariadne are all very much also worth your time.) 

Genevie Gornichec’s The Witch’s Heart attempts to do something similar with Norse mythology, reimagining the story of the giantess Angrboda in an entirely new and intriguing way. In the old tales, she is only briefly mentioned as the mother of the trickster God Loki’s three children – Fenrir, the wolf; Jorgamund, the Midgard Serpent; and Hel, the ruler of the realm of the dead. But Gornichec aims to change all that, crafting an empowering and tragic tale that blends a centuries-long quest with a surprisingly meaningful love story. (And one of most adorable oddball families primarily comprised of wolves and snakes you’ll ever see.) The Witch’s Heart is full of sly nods to other gods and their stories, even as it spins a necessary tale about a woman who may be fated for sadness, but who still manages to live a life of meaning along the way. A surprisingly gut-wrenching and deeply beautiful debut. – Lacy Baugher

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

If you’re looking to add more diverse fantasy to your bookshelves, you honestly can’t go wrong with Tasha Suri’s The Jasmine Throne, a queer, female-fronted Indian-inspired fantasy that is rich, complicated, and full of morally gray characters. An epic that includes half a dozen POVs, multiple kingdoms, complex magical and cultural systems, bands of rebels, interfamilial betrayal, and a fantastic slow-burn central relationship. But, at its heart, this is a story about power: Who has it? What does it cost to wield it? What is it worth sacrificing to keep it? And who is suffering under the yoke of the empire it creates?

The Jasmine Throne is precisely the sort of dense, immersive tale the fantasy genre was essentially built to tell, unfolding slowly and purposefully over a story that clocks in at over 500 pages (and is just the first installment in a trilogy!) but is so deftly told that you won’t feel most of them pass. Bring on The Oleander Sword. – LB

For the Wolf by Hannah Whitten

Fairytale retellings are all the rage right now, but Hannah Whitten’s debut novel For the Wolf takes it to the next level, mixing folklore, horror, and a dark reinterpretation of Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty and the Beast to create something that feels entirely fresh. Set in a kingdom where the royal family’s second daughter is traditionally sacrificed to the Wolf of the Wood in return for the kingdom’s safety, it follows the story of Redarys, a girl who’s grown up knowing she was essentially destined to die. 

Only, she doesn’t die. And what happens next – from the monster she meets in the wood who isn’t a monster at all to the battle against dark magic and ancient gods at its center – will both surprise and delight you. The enemies-to-lovers romance at its center is rich and satisfying, as is the relationship between Red and the elder sister she left behind – whose determination to save sibling may end up dooming the world. Whitten’s lush prose makes her Wilderwood come alive, from its literally bloodthirsty trees to its constantly creeping shadows and rot, the sort of vivid fantasy storytelling that’s all too rare these days, and a true joy to read. – LB

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward

It’s rare to find a story that can genuinely surprise you, but Catriona Ward’s The Last House on Needless Street does so in spades. The book centers on a lonely man named Ted, who lives in a boarded-up, run-down house, with his 13-year-old daughter, Lauren, and his cat Olivia, not far from a lake where young girls have been going missing. 

A book that’s almost impossible to explain without spoiling one of its many twists, it’s equally difficult to categorize (Is it a horror story? A mystery thriller? A straight-up tragedy?) and features multiple lead characters who may or may not be entirely trustworthy.  And yet, Needless Street is also one of the most emotionally affecting novels that hit shelves this year, an exploration of loss and obsession that subverts many of our preexisting expectations of what a horror story is supposed to be and do. (Even as it counts on us understanding those same tropes to misdirect and occasionally mislead us.)  Plus, there’s the presence of a very religious talking gay cat, truly the best supporting character in fiction this year. – LB

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

The fifth book in Sarah J. Maas’s  A Court of Thorns and Roses universe, A Court of Silver Flame is the first in the series to focus on a character other than original leading lady Feyre, now High Lady of Prythian’s Night Court. Instead, it follows the story of her elder sister, Nesta, a furious ball of rage still struggling to process the trauma from the events of the previous four books. Silver Flames also marks a graduation of sorts for this series: Whereas the earlier ACOTAR novels are more easily classified as YA fantasy, this sequel marks a clear step into the more adult contemporary genre occupied by Maas’s Crescent City series, and the story is all the better for it. Now featuring darker themes, a whole more violence, and, yes, some rather explicit sex, A Court of Silver Flames is largely a story about pain: How to carry it, how to process it, how to accept help because of it. 

A more complicated and often less likable heroine than her sister, Nesta’s bottomless rage and sharp tongue make her occasionally hard to root for. But Maas works hard to ground her anger as an understandable reaction to the trauma she’s experienced and allows Nesta to explore her fears and grief with a group of new characters who have all undergone similar horrors. (People may recommend Maas’ work for her swoony, sexy relationships, but she’s one of the best at writing complex female friendships working today, and that talent is on full display here, as she crafts new bonds that are ultimately a more important part of Nesta’s journey to recovery and self-acceptance than her romance with the hunky Cassian. Silver Flames may be a fairly massive tome, but it’s a great example of why Maas remains so popular as an author – and why this series is going to go on for as long as she wants it to. – LB

A Fan Studies Primer, edited by Paul Booth & Rebecca Williams

Fandom is a global force for good, bad, and everything in-between, but the academic study of it is relatively new and often underfunded compared to other disciplines. That doesn’t mean there isn’t still vital work being done in the field, as academics across the country and world work to create and articulate helpful frameworks for understanding how forces of fannishness work, and the best ways to study them. A Fan Studies Primer: Method, Research, and Ethics attempts to give teachers a resource for shaping their own fan studies curriculum and studies, especially as fandom becomes increasingly transnational and multinational, and media begins to wrestle more seriously with questions of diversity, representation, and inclusion. This might seem like a niche book recommendation for a nerd site centered more on media analysis than fandom analysis, but it’s a great read for any nerd looking to understand their own fannishness and the fannishness of those around them a little better. – Kayti Burt

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Xiran Jay Zhao offers up a vibrant, wildly entertaining debut with Iron Widow, a speculative fiction reimagining of the rise of China’s only female emperor, Wu Zetian.

In the patriarchal sci-fi world of Huaxia, 18-year-old Zetian is part of the mecha military system that killed her older sister. In Iron Widow, teen girls and boys are paired up to pilot giant magical robots called Chrysalises, used to fight the mecha aliens that live beyond the Great Wall; however, while boy pilots are revered as hero-celebrities, the girl pilots are seen as concubine, and often die from the mental strain of the piloting process. When Zetian turns the tables, psychically killing her boy co-pilot, she is paired up with Li Shimin, considered the strongest male pilot in the fleet. But that’s just the rough premise.

What follows is a queer, polyamorist romance filled with giant transforming robots and giant transforming feelings. A love letter to East Asian cultures, anime tropes, and the fight against misogyny, Iron Widow was one of the most rewarding reads of the year. – KB

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

If you haven’t encountered Mo Dao Zu Shi in some format, then you probably haven’t been on the internet in the last few years. The Chinese-language web novel, also known as The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, was published online from October 2015 to March 2016, and became very popular, spurring several adaptations across different mediums, including audio dramas in multiple languages as well as manhua and donghua adaptations. In 2019, Tencent adapted the story into a live-action drama called The Untamed, which has racked up literally billions of views across the many platforms it has been available on. Starring pop idols Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo in the central roles, The Untamed took off internationally when it was made available on Netflix in October 2019. Two years later, the original danmei finally has an official English-language edition, complete with new illustrations.

The first of three planned volumes of the English-language The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation hit bookshelves earlier this week. The Chinese xianxia fantasy novel follows cultivator soulmates Wei Wuixan and Lan Wangji fighting injustices in a fantasy version of ancient China, and it’s great. The new edition is from Seven Seas publishing, and features cover art from Jin Fang, interior illustrations from Marina Privalova, and translation by Suika with Pengie as editor. The time and care that went into translating this novel into a new edition is apparent in every page, and every word choice. In a year in which American consumers were more open to foreign-language and foreign-made content than ever, an official English-language translation of this beloved fantasy romance feels like a major moment.

What were your favorite books of the year? Let us know in the comments below.

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