Full Title: Dangerous Women
Author: [various]
Editor: George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois
Year: 2013 (mine is original hardcover)
Genre: Fiction (incl. sci-fi, adventure, fantasy, historical, etc.)
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates (Tor Books)
ISBN 978-0-7653-3206-6 (hard cover)
Wikipedia page

Summary

An anthology of 21 short stories (more than half of them by women), Dangerous Women attempts to move away from the stereotype of women in fiction as damsels in distress or unimportant side characters (wives, girlfriends, secretaries, etc.) It does occasionally fall into the well-worn sci-fi trope of presenting women as villainesses, but more often portrays women as protagonists — the sympathetic main character. The collection varies widely in genre, including scienc fiction, fantasy, historical fiction, mystery, horror, paranormal, and some that were difficult for me to categorize.

Most, if not all of these authors are ones I’ve never read before — though all of them are accomplished in their fields. So the styles and settings were all unfamiliar to me, which was refreshing.

What I Liked Least About It

One thing that surprised me quickly as I read the opening stories was how far we still have to go in fiction when it comes to representing women and girls. Even in a book with the explicit mission of challenging stereotypes, we find stories told from the male viewpoint (even by women authors), stories with only one prominent female character who only deals with men, incessant usage of the word “girl” when referring to adult women, and few stories that fully passed the Bechdel Test — a three-step rule of thumb for measuring women’s roles in media.

Secondly, it felt like the most-relevant stories were presented first, so my initial good impression faded into disappointment as I went on. And despite his international reknown as a massive figure in the world of fantasy literature, George R.R. Martin’s story (the last one in the book) seemed the least relevant and least interesting to me.

What I Liked Most About It

Despite my complaint above, the stories here are still a far cry from the usual fiction choices. Women are rarely presented as victims, don’t need men to save them, and their primary roles are something other than sympathetic side-characters or objects of desire.

Additionally, most of the stories were fun to read and quick-paced. With a couple of glaring exceptions, each story was about 20-30 pages long and thus could be finished in a brief sitting.

Per Story

Because this is an anthology — a collection of widely different stories by very different authors, encompassing several genres — I feel it appropriate to provide mini-reviews of the stories it contains. Below, I have written at least something about each story.

• Some Desperado, by Joe Abercrombie

This is a fast-paced, brutal action story about a young woman named Shy who’s on the run from both bounty hunters and former partners-in-crime. The writing is clipped and precise, yet colorful and evocative. Despite Shy’s character being extremely questionable, I found myself rooting for her.

• My Heart Is Either Broken, by Megan Abbott

A brief but haunting account of a tragic event in an imperfect relationship, this story kept me from sleeping afterward — despite the seemingly happy ending. The writing style was jagged, however, in a way that required repeated looks back at previous paragraphs, and the chronology felt skewed so that I was rarely sure which time period I was reading about. Not my favorite story, but still powerful.

• Nora’s Song, by Cecelia Holland

Not sure why this one was included. The main character was a young girl who didn’t accomplish anything — or (that I could tell) learn anything. The writing wasn’t particularly notable. It was simply a snapshot into the lives of an actual historical family, that of Henry II of England — the story being told from the viewpoint of his daughter Eleanor, called “Nora” in this story.

• The Hands That Are Not There, by Melinda Snodgrass

This was more in my wheelhouse — straight science fiction, set on a distant planet in the indeterminate future when the aristocracy of wealthy males has once again been formalized, and full of conspiracy theories, drunk spacemen, and an alien seductress. I enjoyed it. My only complaint was the repeated use of the child-indicating “girls” when the author referred to adult human females. Perhaps this was intentional, due to the mysogynistic nature of the society she described, but the words came from the narrator not the characters so it bugged me throughout. It was also told from the point of view of men and thus didn’t come close to passing the Bechdel Test.

• Bombshells, by Jim Butcher

About a young woman magician’s apprentice who’s trying to fill her deceased teacher’s shoes, this story moves quickly and enjoyably. The heroine seems simultaneously full of self-confidence and self-doubt — just like a real person. I’m not a huge fan of magic-fiction (strongly preferring “hard” sci-fi), but this was fun. It’s also the first story in this book to unequivocably pass the Bechdel Test.

• Raisa Stepanova, by Carrie Vaughn

Historical fiction, this story depicts women fighter pilots in the Soviet Union during World War 2 (based on the historical Night Witches squadrons). I enjoyed reading it, despite the anticlimactic ending. It inspired me to later look up and read several historical descriptions of the real women, which was also enjoyable.

• Wrestling Jesus, by Joe R. Lansdale

The intro claims this story is about “the best bad girl ever”, but the story is mostly about an old man and a teen boy who befriends him. The woman (not “girl”) isn’t even mentioned until 14 pages into the 31-page story — and doesn’t actually appear until the 23rd page, at which point she sits quietly and watches a wrestling match between two men. While I did enjoy the story, and I liked Lansdale’s writing style, this one wasn’t about a woman and didn’t belong in this anthology.

• Neighbors, by Megan Lindholm (a.k.a. Robin Hobb)

What initially seems like a strikingly sad story about growing old slowly morphs into a different kind of tale. Despite the magically intriguing ending, this powerful portrait into the life of an elderly woman stuck with me, haunting my thoughts.

• I Know How To Pick ‘Em, by Lawrence Block

This story was not as advertised. The blurb says it’s “about a dangerous woman with a dangerous plan in mind”, but it turns out to be about a woman who’s the victim of male-induced violence. The first-person narrator is a male, a violent one, who thinks about little other than fighting and sex, and kills the seemingly harmless woman who befriends him at a bar. I was startled that it was even considered for inclusion in this book.

• Shadows For Silence In The Forests Of Hell, by Brandon Sanderson

Though I have always shied away from fantasy/magic stories (because they require too much suspension of disbelief), this one was well-written and the world well-constructed. Set in a universe where magic is real and ghosts (called “shadows”) are tangible and deadly, our heroines struggle for survival. The primary female protagonist is Silence, who I took to be in late middle age, and who is strong and resourceful. This was a perfect addition to this anthology.

• A Queen In Exile, by Sharon Kay Penman

Like “Nora’s Song” (above), this story seemed more like a fictionalized portrait of an actual historical figure, this time Constance, Queen of Sicily, known as “Constance de Hauteville” in the story. Though it was more interesting than the other, and more fitting with the theme of this anthology, it read more like history and less like fiction to me. It was also more about a courageous woman, surviving in a world filled with dangerous men, than about a “dangerous woman”.

• The Girl In The Mirror, by Lev Grossman

An entertaining tale about young folks at a magic academy, this story read as if Grossman was trying to write as a teenage girl — and parts of this came across as demeaning. Like. Seriously. Also, the alleged heroine ends up being saved by a man — which I thought was the trope these stories were trying to avoid. Like. Seriously.

• Second Arabesque, Very Slowly, by Nancy Kress

Set in a dystopian future — a couple of generations removed from an unspecified societal collapse — this sad story is about a “pack” of humans where men rule and women are either baby-factories or Nurses (one Nurse to a pack). The first-person narrative is from the point of view of an elderly Nurse, whose grandmother told her tales of pre-collapse society. A handful of pack members discover ballet, and for a reason unexplained by the author, this is very, very bad, resulting in punishment for those members. It’s insinuated that the Nurse escapes, but the story ends without resolution.

• City Lazarus, by Diana Rowland

Set in a future New Orleans, in which the Mississippi’s new course has nearly ruined the once-proud city, a corrupt cop is the main character. Almost the entire story follows him. Just as he seems to be getting his act together, deciding to go straight, he’s killed by the woman he was falling in love with. That’s it.

• Virgins, by Diana Gabaldon

This long and rambling “short” story (72 pages) is described as “fast paced” in its introduction. It’s set in 18th Century France, and is told from the perspective of two Scotsmen who work as mercenaries. Almost all the characters are men, except for barmaids and whores — one of whom is graphically raped (Gabaldon is well-known for over-using rape scenes) — and one “Jewess” and her maid. Both men fall for the Jewess, but she turns out to be a scoundrel. Quite a bit of the dialog is written in vernacular, difficult to understand. Even some of the narrative is written this way. Not only did I not enjoy this story, but it didn’t seem to fit in this anthology.

• Hell Hath No Fury, by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Set in Louina, Alabama, a real “ghost town”, this story says it’s “based on a true legend”, which of course isn’t true. It’s a fictional legend. Four people searching for treasure come across the ghost of an old Native American woman who supposedly cursed the town, and the ghost of another Native American woman who was fighting against the curse. And one of the white people turns out to be “part Creek” so she can channel the ghosts, hear them, talk to them. Then she magically realizes she’s the great-great-granddaughter of one of the ghosts due to “the part of her bloodline that had always been mysterious and undefined” — later called “her warrior heritage”. She manages to convince the evil Native American ghost to relent — by quoting Crazy Horse. For me, the only redeeming feature here is that multiple main characters are women (or their ghosts). The story ends on an incredibly sexist paragraph and the entirety of it poorly caricatures Native Americans and their religion (while also assuming that religion to be true, which is weird).

• Pronouncing Doom, by S.M. Sterling

This story passed the Bechdel Test — with multiple strong women characters. Also, points for representation: one woman is deaf and communicates with sign language and lip-reading. Other problems ruined the story for me. Set in the not-to-distant future, a couple of years after “the machines stopped” (magically?), these back-to-the-soil people have set up a new agricultural society in western Oregon. For unexplained reasons, their culture is entirely Scottish (kilts, accents, etc.) and their religion is “the Craft” (which I assume means witchcraft; Google brought up the 1996 film, but not any religions), in which they worship various goddesses and the Earth. The main character (“Juniper”) claims the settlement has “freedom of religion”, but adds that blasphemy is a crime. And I don’t think the author was intentionally trying to make the character look stupid. The story is about a criminal trial, the first capital crime tried in this new society. Juniper spends a lot of time verbally explaining how justice will be different now, without bothersome and complicated “rights of the accused” or fair and impartial jury trials — an accusation is enough; the only question is the sentence. The author seems to agree with this viewpoint, which I found despicable.

• Name The Beast, by Samuel Stykes

A lot went unexplained in this story; the author uses many one- and two-word sentences which can make things unclear. Example: “The child. Talking. Again.” Also in several places with two female characters in dialog, he writes “she” for both of them. From what I gathered, the story is about a species of sentient animals (from the meager descriptions, I could not determine what they look like) called “shict” who live in the forest; they resent humans and sometimes kill them. The story is told from two viewpoints: that of a shict woman and that of a human child. It is short and brutal, but the author never explains why. The story doesn’t mention whether this is some planet the humans have invaded, or if it’s a magical Earth where animals talk.

(Sykes’ intro in this book didn’t mention it, but he is the son of Diana Gabaldon, mentioned further up this page.)

• Caretakers, by Pat Cadigan

It definitely passes the Bechdel Test, but this story takes a while to get moving. Two sisters whose mother is in a nursing home uncover an evil plot by an employee to... “advance medicine and make life better for dementia patients everywhere”. It ends ambiguously and without explanation of what really happened.

• Lies My Mother Told Me, by Caroline Spector

This fun romp was set in a world where a virus had given random superpowers (the ability to create bubbles?) to random people. Most primary characters are women and girls. Michelle and her daughter Adesina join forces with Aunt Joey to ward off a plot to steal their powers.

• The Princess And The Queen, by George R.R. Martin

Martin got the longest (by far) introduction of all the authors in the book, and his story is the longest too — at 82 pages (the average is 34.5 pages). It was also the least interesting for me; I didn’t finish it. According to Wikipedia (here), this stoy is supposed to be a prequel to Martin’s most well-known series, set about 200 years prior to A Game Of Thrones. Having read none of Martin’s other works, I don’t know whether this story represents his style or not. It is written as if it’s history, dry lists of facts, names, places, battles, deaths, alliances, changing allegiances, and intrigue. There is little dialog. Only a handful of the many characters are women, and few have dealings with each other; it didn’t seem to fit this anthology well. Martin also has a propensity to misspell words intentionally: fyre, wyrm, ser, for example, apparently in an attempt to appeal to folks who like that sort of thing. I found it distracting.

Conclusion

I’m glad I found this book at a library sale for less than a dollar, and I’m glad I read it. It was outside my comfort zone (due to the inclusion of fantasy, magic, etc.), which can be a good thing. I think anyone at least partially interested in the various genres presented here would enjoy reading most of it.

In the end, I was disappointed at the number of stories at missed the mark, either being male-centric or following old-style tropes of women in fiction (victims, side characters, or villians).

I think we can do better. And by “we”, I mean writers. Thinking back over the few dozen stories I never published, I now realize how few of my characters were women and how many of my female characters fit the old stereotypes — love interest, for example. In most of those stories, nothing about the story required that my characters be male; I only wrote them that way because I’d never been challenged to do otherwise. (My most recent short story is an exception.)

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