Book review: Silk & Sinew anthology, edited by Kristy Park Kulski

“Being in Thailand reminded her of an identity she’d lost in relocation, and probably why she always preferred haunted places and to be among ghosts. They existed somewhere in between, like her.”— “Mindfulness” by Rena Mason, in Silk & Sinew Silk & Sinew: A Collection of Folk Horror from the Asian Diaspora, edited by Kristy Park Kulski, contains some really interesting stories, poems, and reflections, many of which transmit lovely feelings, and/or deep unease, and/or gut punches. Sometimes all at once! It came out in May, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to read a horror collection then. The main part of the book is divided into sections of Soil, Estuary, Bedrock, Roots, and Air. Each section starts with a poem (one in prose) and continues with several short stories more or less related to the theme. The front matter contains an Editor’s Note, a poem, and a Foreword by Monika Kim. The book ends with “Glimpses into the Historical Context” — providing short summaries of Colonialism in Taiwan, Enriching Far Away Worlds (about British colonialism breaking Indian economics), and An Ancient Land (about Armenia) — plus another poem, Acknowledgements, Content & Trigger Warnings, and sections about the authors, the editor, and the artist. I want to highlight the Content & Trigger Warnings section a little, because it’s in the back of the book, which may be a little late for people who just begin at the beginning and read straight through. But it makes sense to put it there, because the warnings are story-specific and thus contain spoilers for some things that will happen or be referenced in each story. A front-of-book warning would necessarily be either so generalized as to be useless, or a long list of specific harms that might put people off the book who could have just skipped stories that might have traumatized them in particular. In addition to possibly skipping to the back for the warnings in case you want to avoid, or at least brace yourself against, specific themes, I also recommend reading the Foreword by Monika Kim, which helps add to these stories and poems a context for our era. Like Silk & Sinew’s editor, Kristy Park Kulski (according to Kim), and like Kylie Lee Baker, whose Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng I reviewed in April, and doubtlessly like many others, she expresses dismay over the upsurge in anti-Asian sentiments, harassment, and violence following the COVID-19 pandemic; however, she also talks about finding some comfort and catharsis in reading and writing about experiences that may not always be shared, exactly, but that do resonate with common themes. There are seven poems and more than 20 stories in the anthology. All of the poems were evocative and included lovely, lyrical language, with emotions ranging from wistful and nostalgic, to harsh and angry, to fatalistic about oncoming doom, to wondering and hopeful, and more. The opening poem, “Treachery for the Forlorn” by Saba Syed Razvi, describes heartfelt memories and numinous figures, contrasting comfort with unease, inviting the reader to contemplate and speculate:“On this the night of a thousand echoes,…Which voice would you invoke into the walls of your heart, if the wayward would listen?” Many of the stories also contain lovely passages, or harrowing ones. All the writers here are extremely skilled at their craft. There are a lot that I don’t want to quote here because the most amazing sentences give away something important, but here’s one section: For the first time since I answered the phone—what seems like a lifetime ago—my vision blurs, turning the rippling grasses into a kaleidoscope of gold and green. I open myself up to my grief, letting the tears fall from my face into the river below, swirling into the current.I let the water taste me. I let them know I’m here.— “Fed by Earth, Slaked by Salt” by Jess Cho Many of the stories include elements of sacrifices that relatives are expected to make for each other, sometimes matter-of-factly like in “Mother’s Mother’s Daughter” by Audrey Zhou, sometimes resentfully, and sometimes even unknowingly. Sometimes the sacrifices are mutual, and sometimes they benefit entire communities. On the other hand, people can make sacrifices that only end up benefiting outsiders, via trickery and extractive economics, and some of these nominally horrific stories’ plots act as wish fulfillment for the vengeful. Numerous stories are about people adjusting to life in new lands, occasionally finding unexpected allies, or still coping with being treated as outsiders generations afterward. Several of the stories are about members of the diaspora visiting the lands their parents or ancestors came from; sometimes this leads to revelations and deeper understandings (e.g. “The Squatters” by Shawna Yang Ryan), sometimes to transformations, sometimes to potential gain for the inhabitants if not the visitors, and sometimes simply to fear, horror, and death. Sometimes the horror happens to the protagonists, and sometimes they perpetrate horrors upon others. Often the horror depends on the perspective the reader brings to the stories. I certainly don’t always agree with the actions or inactions of the protagonists, and I’m sure many stories contain nuances that I missed; however, I find most of them to be relatable in some manner. Each poem is moving in its own way, as are most of the stories, and everything in the anthology is interesting, often in very surprising ways. Silk & Sinew: A Collection of Folk Horror from the Asian Diaspora, was published by Bad Hand Books but can also be ordered via other retailers.Authors: Kristy Park Kulski (editor, editor’s note, afterword, and acknowledgements); Monika Kim (foreword); Saba Syed Razvi, Geneve Flynn, Angela Yuriko Smith, Christina Sng, Rena Mason, Lee Murray, and Bryan Thao Worra (poems); and Audrey Zhou, Shawna Yang Ryan, Geneve Flynn, Ayida Shonibar, Kanishk Tantia, Jess Cho, Yi Izzy Yu, Angela Yuriko Smith, J.A.W. McCarthy, Nadia Bulkin, Robert Nazar Arjoyan, Rowan Cardosa, Seoung Kim, Saheli Khastagir, Gabriela Lee, Rena Mason, Ai Jiang, Christopher Hann, Priya Sridhar, and Lee Murray (stories). Three
Comics Review: Indiginerds: Tales From Modern Indigenous Life

The representation of Indigenous people in comics and in SF&F alike has historically been … as someone who’s not Indigenous, I’m just going to say that my understanding is that on balance, and despite some notable exceptions, it’s been not great. Viewed most frequently through the understanding and expectations of white creators and readers, the depiction of Indigenous characters has often been profoundly stereotypical. And whether those stereotypes were entirely negative or partly positive, they were reductive and limiting. Of course, Indigenous people have always been telling their own stories, but which stories were able to reach a wider audience was heavily influenced by the expectations of, again, white publishers, reviewers, and readers – and that means that the works that broke through often focused on present or historical Indigenous trauma.
But Indigenous people are more than their pain. Indigenous creators shouldn’t have to perform pain to be considered worthy of our attention.
Movie Discussion: Lore (2023)

Daniel: Somehow I went into this not realizing it was an anthology film. Aside from the title and knowing it was labeled horror and would have some kind of supernatural element, I knew nothing. The opening shot of the countryside is gorgeous and the music by Benjamin Symons I think is fantastic from that very start. From those vibes I figured this would be some sort of folk horror. And as the credits rolled over the opening scene/dialogue there was nothing obvious to say “this is the start of an anthology wraparound”… Shaun: I also found myself surprised by the setup. The anthology format is hardly new to horror, as I’m sure you (and our mutual Skiffy friend David) well know. The film that Lore immediately brought to mind was Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983), but unlike that somewhat controversial anthology film, Lore‘s setup is a story unto itself. Our band of young thrill seekers believe they’re on a new and unique horror adventure into the woods not realizing they might be part of something else. What that is could be a creepy old man’s story, a cleverly craft bit, or possibly a horror unto itself. This is probably my favorite part of the film: its frame narrative. And that frame – a group of thrill seekers telling ghost stories around the campfire – made me think of another horror anthology in TV form: Are You Afraid of the Dark? (1992-2000; 2019-2022). However, turning that frame into something more than just people telling stories is, I think, where this film offers an interesting deviation. Wholly original? No idea. But interesting nonetheless. Daniel: I completely agree with that all, and that’s another thing that surprised me about Lore, that I loved the frame story wrap-around. Normally it’s the structural part of anthology films that I find not holding up on its own, of being forgettable in place of holding up the main stories featured. Like you say, here it becomes an interesting link to all the stories, and nostalgically creepy/enjoyable in its own right. A good chunk of that success also comes from Welsh actor Richard Brake, a horror staple who will be familiar to fans of Rob Zombie’s horror movies. Here he is playing Darwin, that old man who runs this mysterious haunted experience in the woods, “a once-in-a-lifetime experience [that] will stay with [those thrill-seekers] for a lifetime.” He gets some great lines. With his sinister smile and chuckle he introduces the characters – and we the audience – to what will go on at this haunted experience. The tour has a custom within these woods, land where over three thousand ancient bodies of unknown origin were found buried by archaeologists. Each member of the tour takes a wooden totem from Darwin, burns it within a fire, and tells their ghost story, a fable that haunts them, a tale to feed the dead, the evil. This opening, the intervening segments, and the conclusion just perfectly capture a spooky atmosphere for this time of year. With the first totem tossed in, the first tour attendee begins his tale: “Shadows”. Shaun: I think the more interesting thing about Richard Brake’s performance is not that sinister smile he is known for but the atmosphere he creates before and after each of the tales. For me, the film was most compelling in these moments because we, the audience, are on a similar journey as the characters. Is he for real? Or is this just an act? I figured out the answer before the end, but it was fun feeling like I was on the same thrill experience as everyone else. As for the first of the stories, “Shadows,” I thought it was an interesting way to set the tone and form of our stories. These are reflective of what you’d experience around the campfire: stories that have a theme or plot but might be a bit rough around the edges. We don’t tell perfect tales in oral storytelling, after all. “Shadows” is probably the most complete and tonally consistent of the four for me. Here we get Daniel (hey, it’s you) played by Primeval alum Andrew Lee Potts (who remains adorable) who is being chased by a pair of gang muscles (Steven Blades as Terry, and Daniel-John Williams as Barry). While hiding in a warehouse, he is seemingly rescued by some kind of twisted, monstrous creature. What follows is your typical horror monster survival story, but one that I thought was particularly well acted by Potts, who is believably terrified and desperate. I won’t ruin the ending – the twist is genuinely interesting – but I will say that I enjoyed this tale the most. Daniel: The brief disappointment that I felt for leaving the campfire story gave way to my being drawn into “Shadows.” I think it’s because it starts mid-action with a simple setup, and, as you say, the acting is really compelling. As the story is revealed to be a monster or ‘creature feature’, I was glad to see they weren’t shying away from a bit of gore and balancing the seeing of the horror/monster with moments where that is merely glimpsed or implied. The other chapters that follow continue that balance well also. I did find the ending of this story to be the most compelling, and so I would agree with “Shadows” being the most complete of all the stories in Lore. However, I think that each of them are equally tonally consistent within themselves. It’s just that each story has a unique tone and draws of course from a particular sub-genre or trope of horror. The second story, “The Hidden Woman,” switches things to the Haunted House corner of horror. From the opening shot of the house, we’re clear on the basic story and tropes we should expect here. Hannah (Jennifer K. Preston) and her son Charlie (Theo Preston) move into this creepy home that they’ve inherited from her mother. They soon find they aren’t alone
Comics Review: Failure To Launch: A Tour of Ill-fated Futures

Failure To Launch, in its theme, structure, and overall approach – the promotional material uses the phrase “bite-sized ‘pop-history’ vignettes” – reminds me a lot of the Big Book Of series published by Paradox Press (an imprint of DC Comics), between 1994 and 2000.
Book Review: Rosalind’s Siblings, edited by Bogi Takács

If you missed Rosalind’s Siblings when it was published in September 2023, please consider adding it to your reading list for the new year. It’s a very interesting anthology of speculative fiction and poems, containing some fascinating ideas and characters and some really beautiful language.
Book Review: CHRISTMAS AND OTHER HORRORS, Edited by Ellen Datlow

… [The] majority (even those that might be set around Christmas) are really about solstice, that moment when the sun stops on its journey across Earth’s skies to change course. As many traditions of modern Christmas celebration are really appropriation and secularization of more ancient pagan festivities, several stories could be seen from either or combined perspectives.