★★★ The Ones Who Stay And Fight, 13 pages (2018)

This is “a pastiche of and reaction to” Ursula K. Le Guin’s award-winning The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, and I could tell almost immediately. Written in a similar style, but with a vastly different message — almost the opposite, I felt — this story is both whimsy and plea, a celebration and grief. Note: I first read Le Guin’s story less than a year ago, so the comparison came quickly to mind. But I think I wouldn’t have appreciated the story at all without having recently read the other work.

★★ The City Born Great, 20 pages (2016)

This was fantasy, written in a style I typically can’t stand, the style that explains little, describes only in vague, veiled ways. The author says it is: “The rebirth of New York into an ancient battle, by the hand of its reluctant midwife.” I admit parts did resonate with me:

“What good does it do to be valuable, if nobody values you?”

— pg. 22

And I got caught up in the emotion of the climax, the fight between — I’m not sure, the narrator? the city? versus Evil? — at the end. Some specific NYC references might hit home for people from there. (Read it online.)

ADDENDUM, 2020.06.17: This story later became the prologue for the novel The City We Became (see my review), with only minor textual changes near the end. Now seen in context, the story is greater and part of an epic battle for survival.

★★★★ Red Dirt Witch, 24 pages (2016)

Fantasy again, this story is set in mid-20th Century Alabama, in the early days of the Civil Rights movement. In a style very different from the previous story, Jemisin tells of Emmaline, a poor black mother who also practices magic and has prophetic dreams. I can’t say that I understood the magical confrontations with the White Lady (apparently an evil Irish fairy? and not an actual white lady). The writing here was superb, the patois brilliantly done. My only complaint is that it gave the impression that improved conditions and rights for African-Americans were at least partially caused by a magical trade rather than by determination, courageous leaders, and hard work.

★★★★ L’Alchimista, 17 pages (2005)

Again with a noticeably different style, this story begins in modern-day Italy with an expert chef named Franca; its fantasy elements don’t become apparent until more than halfway through. Jemisin’s descriptions of recipes and food preparation were so lucid I could taste it, and her handful of lines describing the stranger who enters the inn felt like a photograph. Subjectively, I didn’t like the ending, but I recognize this is only my personal ambivalence toward stories about magic and/or alchemy (fantasy).

★★★★★ The Effluent Engine, 38 pages (2011)

This steampunk adventure in New Orleans was my favorite so far, partly because it fell on the science fiction side of the SF/F divide, but also because the story was fun and endearing. Set in the 1800s, a Haitian operative meets with a Creole family of means in order to perfect a nation-saving technology. A bit of romance thrown in the mix never hurt either. (This story was previously featured in a collection of “steampunk lesbian” stories, which I totally didn’t realize existed as a sub-genre but I’m glad it does.)

★★★★ Cloud Dragon Skies, 13 pages (2005)

Here, Jemisin does impressive world-building and storytelling in only 13 pages. The protagonist is a woman on a damaged, depopulated Earth, where all who remain have chosen to live simply — most humans moved off-planet to the Ring to avoid contamination. In the end, she has to leave too. Until nearly the end, I was going to classify this as sci-fi, chalking up to folklore the stories about cloud dragons, but no, it turns out the clouds do have sentience, and do resent humanity’s efforts to intervene. (Read it online.)

★★ The Trojan Girl, 24 pages (2011)

I admit much of this went over my head. Are the characters computer viruses? Sentient programs that hide in the internet? I’m not sure. From the title, I assume the girl they met is supposed to be a trojan horse, but she seemed nicer than that. I don’t mind stories for which I have to make some assumptions, even if those assumptions turn out to be wrong, as long as something at least is cleared up in the end. In this one, I felt nothing was cleared up in the end. (Read it online.)

★★★ Valedictorian, 20 pages (2012)

Set in the (distant?) future, after “adapted” humans took over the world, some population in the heartland still exists, unadapted, behind the Firewall. Zinhle is one of these, about to be valedictorian — which, according to the rules of this future civilization, is a threat to her way of life. The story was interesting, but like others in this collection, I had trouble grasping what was supposed to be its essence. Also, it didn’t move me like some of the others did. In the Introduction, Jemisin indicates that Valedictorian is set in the same world as The Trojan Girl, though this wasn’t evident to me in either story. I did, however, identify somewhat with Zinhle — because I underwent my share of bullying over good grades. And I liked several passages:

“Her parents raised her to be respectful of her elders. She believes respect includes being very, very clear about some things.”

“It is so easy to have principles. Far, far harder to live by them.”

(Read it online.)

★★★★ The Storyteller’s Replacement, 13 pages (2018)

Switching between first-person and third-person narrative, this is written like an old-style morality tale. An impotent king sends his men to hunt dragons after a wizard tells him eating the heart of a dragon will improve his virility. Things don’t go quite as planned. The ending seemed weak, though the moral is at least plainly stated:

“So many of our leaders are weak, and choose to take power from others rather than build strength in themselves. And then, having laid claim to what they have not earned, they wonder why everything around them spirals into chaos.”

★★★ The Brides Of Heaven, 14 pages (2007)

On the planet Illiyin, a colony of Muslim women struggles to survive — men had been on the ship too but died in a technological failure upon landing. Some of the narrative hints at the weirdness of women following morality rules that originated in men’s drive to control, even after the men are permanently gone. I was enjoying the story, which appeared to be “hard” sci-fi, until the end when magic makes an appearance to save the colony. Even then, I wanted to ride it out, but didn’t understand the emotional reaction of the colony administrator — I write vaguely here to avoid full-on spoilers.

★★★ The Evaluators, 17 pages (2016)

Written as a series of transmissions, notes, private messages, etc., with distracting dates and headings between every few paragraphs, this sobering tale concerns an extraterrestrial mission to a planet with its own sentient species. The actual goings-on were interesting, but nearly buried behind the weird formatting. (Read it online.)

★ Walking Awake, 20 pages (2014)

Jemisin says this story is “a reponse” to Robert A. Heinlein’s Puppet Masters, a book I enjoyed quite a bit as a youth. I still don’t know what her response was trying to say. In her version of the world, the masters didn’t come from space; they were made by humans: “All the monsters were right here. No need to go looking for more in space.” But here, the humans who’ve been taken over by the masters can communicate with each other via dreams. And they can communicate with Sadie, a bipolar woman tasked with raising new humans for the masters. And somehow, Sadie tricks one master to take her, which will somehow kill all the masters. So much was unclear to me in this story that I’m not even sure what happened. Also, even what little I did understand was, I think, because I’ve read Puppet Masters at least twice — and saw the movie. (Read it online.)

★★★★★ The Elevator Dancer, 4 pages (2018)

In a future conservative theocracy, a security guard begins to question the whole setup when he is intrigued by a woman he sees dancing in an elevator (he views her via security cameras, but never sees her in person.) Brief, poignant, almost a poem in prose, this one is masterful.

★★★★ Cuisine des Mémoires, 16 pages (2018)

Like L’Alchimista above, the descriptions of foods and recipes in this story are masterful; I was literally hungry after reading. Harold has been invited by longtime friend Yvette to dine in a restaurant that requires an NDA before dining; they claim to be able to reproduce — down to the last detail — any meal from the past for which the diner can provide the exact date and location, as well as an approximate time. Harold of course doesn’t believe this, but is soon convinced. The how isn’t as big a surprise as I wanted it to be; still this one was enjoyable.

★★★★ Stone Hunger, 26 pages (2014)

In a fantasy world in which the planet (it’s not said which planet) has been “riven”, there exist creatures — including the protagonist — who can sense seismological events and “feed” off the energy inside the planet. They can also cause seismological events. Alone for so long, the protagonist (described as “a girl”, though clearly not human) finally discovers people like herself trying to live together. Despite my poor description here, the story was fascinating, well-written, and endearing. Edit: I realized later this was in the same universe as the Broken Earth trilogy. (Read it online.)

★★★★★ On The Banks Of The River Lex, 16 pages (2010)

Long after the demise of humanity, surviving mythical creatures like Death, angels, and Nursery Rhymes inhabit the world and look for meaning in their now-pointless existence. Until Death notices a new thing happening on the outskirts. This gives him purpose. The story was hopeful and insightful. (Read it online.)

★★★★ The Narcomancer, 37 pages (2007)

This tale, the second-longest in the book, contains all the elements that typically deter me from enjoying fantasy — magic stones, spells, wizards and priests running societies, undue emphasis on dreams and portents, unnecessarily rural and backward societies, etc. But something in the air of this one was kinder, more considerate than most of the others. In the end, it was a story about doing the right thing, about consent, and about feminism. One exchange that stuck with me:

“I never meant to hurt anyone”, he said. “I just wanted to be free.”

“I understand”, Cet said. “But your freedom came at the cost of others’ suffering. That is corruption, unacceptable under the Goddess’s law.”

★★ Henosis, 8 pages (2017)

Unnecessarily out of order, this brief piece was trying to say something about writers leaving legacies. Or being killed in order to have a legacy. Or winning awards because the legacy is over. I’m not sure. Something about writers, legacies, awards, death, and perception. (Read it online.)

★★★★ Too Many Yesterdays, Not Enough Tomorrows, 13 pages (2004)

This is short bits of narrative interspersed with oddly formatted blog entries, emails, message boards. Due to an odd bit of quantum entanglement (or something), reality “rolls over” every so many hours — a bit like in Groundhog Day except with pleasingly fewer Bill Murrays. Multiple people are stuck in the loop, but in different locations. Only the internet sees linear time and they can still somehow communicate via it. A theory arises that stronger human connections end the loop, weaker ones perpetuate it, and complete lack of connection drives one mad. Now to test the theory...

★★ The You Train, 8 pages (2007)

This one takes the form of a telephone conversation, but just one half of it. The woman talks about trying to date, taking the train home, hating her job. Nothing is deep or insightful here; I assume it was simply an experiment in a different way to write a short story. The only real feature is that she speaks of noticing trains that shouldn’t be there — either long-defunct or never existing. Finally, she rides the U train. (Read it online.)

★★★ Non-Zero Probabilities, 11 pages (2009)

Luck has come to New York City. Or, rather, any probability that isn’t flat-out zero can happen. I mean, it always could happen, because the probability was more than zero. Just now one-in-a-million things are noticeably happening more often. Religions see it as a sign of the end times and organize giant prayer rallies. (Read it online.)

★★★★ Sinners, Saints, Dragons, And Haints, In The City Beneath The Still Waters, 26 pages (2010)

Set in New Orleans after a devastating hurricane, this story is about a young man who rides out the storm, meets a dragon, saves an old lady from flood waters, fights a haint, and manages to survive. It’s interesting and descriptive. (Read it online.)