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I do not know what I was expecting, but this anthology is superb. It is not only powerful, it is touching, and imaginative. There's a wealth of genres, narratives, and phenomenal stories. Normally I have a list of ones I love and others I really didn't like, that's usually the nature of anthologies, but these were all great! I might be recommending this book to everyone this month!
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review from Netgalley.
full review: https://utopia-state-of-mind.com/review-sum-us-tales-bonded-bound-edited-susan-forest-lucas-k-law/
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review from Netgalley.
full review: https://utopia-state-of-mind.com/review-sum-us-tales-bonded-bound-edited-susan-forest-lucas-k-law/
I entered this anthology of speculative short stories about caregiving with the intention of bookmarking the stories that stood out the most for me, as well as the ones I savored, these were the stories I intended to list and review here but this ended up being too unwieldy a task as there were just too many good stories from a variety of approaches and themes. Instead, and with the note that my selection means that some equally awesome stories remain unexplored but ready to be discovered, I am just going to highlight a few of the ones that struck me the most:
“The Gatekeeper” by Juliet Marillier - Those are not tears that are threatening to well up in my eyes as I travel to work on public transport, nope its just a sudden localised mist situation that is taking place behind my glasses and completely unrelated to this story of an Afghani refugee, his rescue cat, and connections they make not just with the residents of the care home but with each other and the deep interconnections of memory, loyalty and fear when the safety they have found and the security of home they have made is threatened.
"Mother Azalea' Sad Home for Forgotten Adults" by James Van Pelt - was another movingly good story. The 'Sad Home' part of the title is a bit misleading as I would classify the story as both more intriguing, in terms of ideas around its android home attendants, and more heartfelt, in its exploration of the relationship between the director of the home and its newest resident. The importance of bringing a human, empathetic element to medical care was very well done in a contrastive fashion that was not overblown.
"The Healers Touch" by Colleen Anderson - This one did a beautiful job of combining scifi exploration of the use of doctor directed nanos at a very hands on level to treat patients with a personal story of the doctor's own emotional journey in coming to terms with her own past traumas as her new role sees her confronted with those of her patients. Healing of self and others becomes intertwined in an important way. LGBT story.
"The Oracle and the Warlord" by Karina Sumner-Smith - This was one of the relatively few truly sad tales in the anthology, as the protagonist Andra watches her friend, and former lover, weaken and lose her self over time in service and payment to the dark waters in her role as the oracle. It is a role that ends up being vitally important to the well being of her world and the story becomes one of the sacrifices voluntarily made for the safety of others. LGBT story
"The Gardener" by Amanda Sun - Also ended up being another sad story but more of a bittersweet sadness. A meditation on missing someone, of remaining behind to carry on its duties, conveyed through perspective of an android who has obviously not picked up on essential human cues but has developed some of his own feelings no matter how foreign or androidly expressed.
"Orang Tua Adventure Home Academy" by Charlotte Ashley - This one was one of the fun, adventurous stories within the anthology and as the story progresses one of the main character comes to see how much vim and curiosity there is still left to her in last years as she finds a new life in new surroundings in a different culture. It also ended up being a very sweet story about two people separated by culture and generation coming to open up and appreciate each other.
"Goodbye is That Time Between Now and Forever" by Matt Moore - This one was a gracefully done snapshot taken at the end of a terminally ill father's life as he and his daughter, who acts as his guardian/carer, travel back to their homeland, America, where he is 'volunteering' to end his life and undergo what is known the transformation at the barricade that separates the walled off America from the rest of the world. In the flashbacks we see how America had undergone a viral plague, where the infected turned violently against each other and in escaping death Catalina and her father made it out to Barcelona but at the cost that Catalina's father had to make a split second choice to save Catalina or risk picking up her sister and mother. We also see how Catalina grows up, transitions MtF and finds a place of home in Barcelona but how her father never quite is able to let go of his old home. We see the journey of the parent as caregiver, to the child who grows to become their parent's caregiver and we see the bonds of love and connections between them - even over the points of their differences. LGBT story
"Gone Flying" by Liz Westbrook-Trenholm - This was definitely one of the outstanding stories in the collection for me, with its final sentences resonating after the tale was done. It was one of only a couple of the stories where I just took a moment to let it rest before moving on to the next. The journey of Nanee as in her old age, in a post apocalyptic world, in a war ravaged body, she strives to raise her babies, her clones, as illness combined with lack of resources contrive against this. But though the story starts as one of despair it turns into one of hope and fruition and of ingenuity and most of all of love.
The last story here "Dreams as Fragile as Glass" by Caroline M. Yoachim was one of the shortest but no less resonant for that. It was a story of being parents to a child with a hereditary, terminal illness - in this case given the sheen of an almost fairy tale form - the guilt that comes with that but also the courage to allow the child fly while they can. To find joy in pleasures even if those pleasures may be dangerous in a manner exacerbated by their illness. This ended up being a brief, beautiful and fluid story that was complete within itself.
“The Gatekeeper” by Juliet Marillier - Those are not tears that are threatening to well up in my eyes as I travel to work on public transport, nope its just a sudden localised mist situation that is taking place behind my glasses and completely unrelated to this story of an Afghani refugee, his rescue cat, and connections they make not just with the residents of the care home but with each other and the deep interconnections of memory, loyalty and fear when the safety they have found and the security of home they have made is threatened.
"Mother Azalea' Sad Home for Forgotten Adults" by James Van Pelt - was another movingly good story. The 'Sad Home' part of the title is a bit misleading as I would classify the story as both more intriguing, in terms of ideas around its android home attendants, and more heartfelt, in its exploration of the relationship between the director of the home and its newest resident. The importance of bringing a human, empathetic element to medical care was very well done in a contrastive fashion that was not overblown.
"The Healers Touch" by Colleen Anderson - This one did a beautiful job of combining scifi exploration of the use of doctor directed nanos at a very hands on level to treat patients with a personal story of the doctor's own emotional journey in coming to terms with her own past traumas as her new role sees her confronted with those of her patients. Healing of self and others becomes intertwined in an important way. LGBT story.
"The Oracle and the Warlord" by Karina Sumner-Smith - This was one of the relatively few truly sad tales in the anthology, as the protagonist Andra watches her friend, and former lover, weaken and lose her self over time in service and payment to the dark waters in her role as the oracle. It is a role that ends up being vitally important to the well being of her world and the story becomes one of the sacrifices voluntarily made for the safety of others. LGBT story
"The Gardener" by Amanda Sun - Also ended up being another sad story but more of a bittersweet sadness. A meditation on missing someone, of remaining behind to carry on its duties, conveyed through perspective of an android who has obviously not picked up on essential human cues but has developed some of his own feelings no matter how foreign or androidly expressed.
"Orang Tua Adventure Home Academy" by Charlotte Ashley - This one was one of the fun, adventurous stories within the anthology and as the story progresses one of the main character comes to see how much vim and curiosity there is still left to her in last years as she finds a new life in new surroundings in a different culture. It also ended up being a very sweet story about two people separated by culture and generation coming to open up and appreciate each other.
"Goodbye is That Time Between Now and Forever" by Matt Moore - This one was a gracefully done snapshot taken at the end of a terminally ill father's life as he and his daughter, who acts as his guardian/carer, travel back to their homeland, America, where he is 'volunteering' to end his life and undergo what is known the transformation at the barricade that separates the walled off America from the rest of the world. In the flashbacks we see how America had undergone a viral plague, where the infected turned violently against each other and in escaping death Catalina and her father made it out to Barcelona but at the cost that Catalina's father had to make a split second choice to save Catalina or risk picking up her sister and mother. We also see how Catalina grows up, transitions MtF and finds a place of home in Barcelona but how her father never quite is able to let go of his old home. We see the journey of the parent as caregiver, to the child who grows to become their parent's caregiver and we see the bonds of love and connections between them - even over the points of their differences. LGBT story
"Gone Flying" by Liz Westbrook-Trenholm - This was definitely one of the outstanding stories in the collection for me, with its final sentences resonating after the tale was done. It was one of only a couple of the stories where I just took a moment to let it rest before moving on to the next. The journey of Nanee as in her old age, in a post apocalyptic world, in a war ravaged body, she strives to raise her babies, her clones, as illness combined with lack of resources contrive against this. But though the story starts as one of despair it turns into one of hope and fruition and of ingenuity and most of all of love.
The last story here "Dreams as Fragile as Glass" by Caroline M. Yoachim was one of the shortest but no less resonant for that. It was a story of being parents to a child with a hereditary, terminal illness - in this case given the sheen of an almost fairy tale form - the guilt that comes with that but also the courage to allow the child fly while they can. To find joy in pleasures even if those pleasures may be dangerous in a manner exacerbated by their illness. This ended up being a brief, beautiful and fluid story that was complete within itself.
The Sum of Us, released September 8th, 2017, is an anthology of 23 short stories around the theme of carers and caregiving, edited by Canadian editors Lucas K. Law and Susan Forest. As someone who has spent significant parts of their life caring for loved ones to one degree or another as well as being cared for, I wasn’t sure how this collection was going to hit me. This is an emotional deep dive, bringing to the surface complex experiences and feelings around the nature of caring for others.
The collection starts you off chilled with ‘The Dunschemin Retirement Home for Repentant Supervillains’, a tongue-in-cheek story by Ian Creasey about a nursing home for elderly supervillains who are supposed to have given up their evil ways. Inside lives Anarcho, who’s not quite done with supervillainy despite his diminished ability, and his henchman Stafford, on whom Anarcho relies for the enactment of his dastardly plans. It’s a funny little piece that nevertheless surfaces the importance of Stafford’s continued choice to remain with Anarcho.
A choice is crucial in Hayden Trenholm’s ‘The Burdens We Bear’. Syvian, an old monk of an ancient order, is the sole caretaker onboard a ship carrying thousands of cryogenically-frozen humans to a new planet. Syvian’s relationship with Michael, the antagonistic ship’s AI, is spiky, but as we realise the nature of the choice that Syvian must make to ensure the survival of his invaluable cargo, Michael too softens. Syvian makes his choice in the end, and though it’s self-sacrifice, it was a free one.
Maybe unsurprisingly, there are a number of stories in this anthology featuring a robot, AI, or otherwise constructed being whose primary function is to give care. Especially in the global north, professional care is a growing industry as populations skew older. The question is whether the human tendency to turn to constructs to take on this labour is altruistic (looking for the best way to do it) or motivated by reluctance to take on the work ourselves for whatever reason.
‘Mother Azalea’s Sad Home for Forgotten Adults’ by James Van Pelt features a nursing home in which ‘resident assistants’ (human-like robots) monitor patients’ quality of life via a complicated formula, euthanising them as soon as it falls below a certain value. This reads hella sinister, as would any story where the power to decide one’s own life or death is in hands other than our own, but I think the effect is amplified because it’s with non-human intelligence that the power lies. In Van Pelt’s story, Dave, a human doctor, shows Tad, a resident assistant, a new aspect to quality of life previously unconsidered in the robot’s formula. It depicts a future in which robots—symbolising purely logic-driven care—miss the nuances of humanity necessary to give good care.
A totally different story, Amanda Sun’s ‘The Gardener’ implicitly examines whether it can even be ethical to make the entire purpose of a being to care for things it has no stake in. This wonderfully sinister story pulls an old twist but a good one. A gardening android, like Tad, misses the significance of human behaviour, but for this robot the point is moot: it must choose on its own whether to continue its duties.
Sandra Kasturi’s ‘The Beautiful Gears of Dying’ moves away from ethics to blur the lines between human and construct and thereby between life and death. A little piece exposing a desire for the undying, unliving machinery under a robot’s synthetic skin over the very human, messy, painful process of gradual death.
Another important theme throughout the book is that of grief, whether for yourself or others, and what you do with it. For me, the most striking of these stories is ‘Good-bye is That Time Between Now and Forever’ by Matt Moore, in which a trans woman, Catalina, accompanies her elderly father from Barcelona to Boston on his final journey in a cataclysmically changed world. The tension that comes with our not seeing the full picture adds to the certainty of approaching horror; the horror in the end being not only what’s happened to North America but that of bereavement—and then, in the end, the horror is eased by the acceptance of it.
Another beautiful, though heartbreaking, story about loss is Karina Sumner-Smith’s ‘The Oracle and the Warlord’, in which a warlord comes to seek a prophecy of an oracle who, despite the love and care of her attendant, is almost at the end of her life. It’s not only about death but also about the grief for the stepped losses of long-term illness—loss of mobility, loss of energy, loss of the things by which a person defines themselves, is defined by other people, for which they are loved. It is also about how, in the wake of loss, the world rolls on despite everything.
On the flip side of grief, though, this collection also hums with joy—the joy of living and loving. In Liz Westbrook-Trenholm’s ‘Gone Flying’, a grizzled old woman spends her twilight years caring for her brood of baby clones, as mandated by whatever government remains after an apocalyptic cataclysm. It started out so intensely harrowing I had to put the book down and walk away for a few hours. But when I came back, I discovered a story so full of love, even woven inextricably with sorrow, and in the end, joy at the weary old persistence of life, that I’m still thinking about it days after finishing the whole book.
Stories like Claire Humphrey’s ‘Number One Draft Pick’ and Charlotte Ashley’s ‘Orang Tua Adventure Home Academy’ are full of light and life in the face of ill health and death. Something in these speaks to me so fundamentally—being ill or disabled and being a carer aren’t your be all and end all most of the time, they’re just a manner in which you navigate the world.
The last story in the collection is an ode to joy. In ‘Dreams As Fragile As Glass’ by Caroline M. Yoachim, Hikaru moves with her husband Tsutomu and her daughter Masumi from Japan to Hawai’i, and not long after the family discovers that Masumi is developing symptoms of a genetic disease that turns her gradually into colourful glass. But Masumi only wants to learn to surf.
And surf she does, both strong and fragile at the same time, beautiful as she shines in the sun. Her parents watch her from the sand, caught up in this moment they’ve enabled, when their daughter is alive and happy.
Alongside the stories I’ve mentioned are many more I haven’t, but that’s down to space constraints rather than deservedness. The Sum of Us is a whole world’s worth of windows on the experience of caregiving, from the familiar to the totally alien, encompassing the range of human (and non-human) emotion. As Susan Forest mentions in her afterword, there are none of us who don’t care in some way or another; humanity is defined by its cooperative nature, so in a way caring is the ultimate expression of human nature.
This anthology is the second book published as part of Laksa Media’s mission ‘Read for a Cause, Write for a Cause, Help a Cause’, and as such, a donation of CAN$1,000 goes to support mental health programmes upon publication, plus a further portion of the revenue from sales. The first collection was Strangers Among Us, which tackled mental health, and which I’m looking forward to going back and reading!
The collection starts you off chilled with ‘The Dunschemin Retirement Home for Repentant Supervillains’, a tongue-in-cheek story by Ian Creasey about a nursing home for elderly supervillains who are supposed to have given up their evil ways. Inside lives Anarcho, who’s not quite done with supervillainy despite his diminished ability, and his henchman Stafford, on whom Anarcho relies for the enactment of his dastardly plans. It’s a funny little piece that nevertheless surfaces the importance of Stafford’s continued choice to remain with Anarcho.
A choice is crucial in Hayden Trenholm’s ‘The Burdens We Bear’. Syvian, an old monk of an ancient order, is the sole caretaker onboard a ship carrying thousands of cryogenically-frozen humans to a new planet. Syvian’s relationship with Michael, the antagonistic ship’s AI, is spiky, but as we realise the nature of the choice that Syvian must make to ensure the survival of his invaluable cargo, Michael too softens. Syvian makes his choice in the end, and though it’s self-sacrifice, it was a free one.
Maybe unsurprisingly, there are a number of stories in this anthology featuring a robot, AI, or otherwise constructed being whose primary function is to give care. Especially in the global north, professional care is a growing industry as populations skew older. The question is whether the human tendency to turn to constructs to take on this labour is altruistic (looking for the best way to do it) or motivated by reluctance to take on the work ourselves for whatever reason.
‘Mother Azalea’s Sad Home for Forgotten Adults’ by James Van Pelt features a nursing home in which ‘resident assistants’ (human-like robots) monitor patients’ quality of life via a complicated formula, euthanising them as soon as it falls below a certain value. This reads hella sinister, as would any story where the power to decide one’s own life or death is in hands other than our own, but I think the effect is amplified because it’s with non-human intelligence that the power lies. In Van Pelt’s story, Dave, a human doctor, shows Tad, a resident assistant, a new aspect to quality of life previously unconsidered in the robot’s formula. It depicts a future in which robots—symbolising purely logic-driven care—miss the nuances of humanity necessary to give good care.
A totally different story, Amanda Sun’s ‘The Gardener’ implicitly examines whether it can even be ethical to make the entire purpose of a being to care for things it has no stake in. This wonderfully sinister story pulls an old twist but a good one. A gardening android, like Tad, misses the significance of human behaviour, but for this robot the point is moot: it must choose on its own whether to continue its duties.
Sandra Kasturi’s ‘The Beautiful Gears of Dying’ moves away from ethics to blur the lines between human and construct and thereby between life and death. A little piece exposing a desire for the undying, unliving machinery under a robot’s synthetic skin over the very human, messy, painful process of gradual death.
Another important theme throughout the book is that of grief, whether for yourself or others, and what you do with it. For me, the most striking of these stories is ‘Good-bye is That Time Between Now and Forever’ by Matt Moore, in which a trans woman, Catalina, accompanies her elderly father from Barcelona to Boston on his final journey in a cataclysmically changed world. The tension that comes with our not seeing the full picture adds to the certainty of approaching horror; the horror in the end being not only what’s happened to North America but that of bereavement—and then, in the end, the horror is eased by the acceptance of it.
Another beautiful, though heartbreaking, story about loss is Karina Sumner-Smith’s ‘The Oracle and the Warlord’, in which a warlord comes to seek a prophecy of an oracle who, despite the love and care of her attendant, is almost at the end of her life. It’s not only about death but also about the grief for the stepped losses of long-term illness—loss of mobility, loss of energy, loss of the things by which a person defines themselves, is defined by other people, for which they are loved. It is also about how, in the wake of loss, the world rolls on despite everything.
On the flip side of grief, though, this collection also hums with joy—the joy of living and loving. In Liz Westbrook-Trenholm’s ‘Gone Flying’, a grizzled old woman spends her twilight years caring for her brood of baby clones, as mandated by whatever government remains after an apocalyptic cataclysm. It started out so intensely harrowing I had to put the book down and walk away for a few hours. But when I came back, I discovered a story so full of love, even woven inextricably with sorrow, and in the end, joy at the weary old persistence of life, that I’m still thinking about it days after finishing the whole book.
Stories like Claire Humphrey’s ‘Number One Draft Pick’ and Charlotte Ashley’s ‘Orang Tua Adventure Home Academy’ are full of light and life in the face of ill health and death. Something in these speaks to me so fundamentally—being ill or disabled and being a carer aren’t your be all and end all most of the time, they’re just a manner in which you navigate the world.
The last story in the collection is an ode to joy. In ‘Dreams As Fragile As Glass’ by Caroline M. Yoachim, Hikaru moves with her husband Tsutomu and her daughter Masumi from Japan to Hawai’i, and not long after the family discovers that Masumi is developing symptoms of a genetic disease that turns her gradually into colourful glass. But Masumi only wants to learn to surf.
And surf she does, both strong and fragile at the same time, beautiful as she shines in the sun. Her parents watch her from the sand, caught up in this moment they’ve enabled, when their daughter is alive and happy.
Alongside the stories I’ve mentioned are many more I haven’t, but that’s down to space constraints rather than deservedness. The Sum of Us is a whole world’s worth of windows on the experience of caregiving, from the familiar to the totally alien, encompassing the range of human (and non-human) emotion. As Susan Forest mentions in her afterword, there are none of us who don’t care in some way or another; humanity is defined by its cooperative nature, so in a way caring is the ultimate expression of human nature.
This anthology is the second book published as part of Laksa Media’s mission ‘Read for a Cause, Write for a Cause, Help a Cause’, and as such, a donation of CAN$1,000 goes to support mental health programmes upon publication, plus a further portion of the revenue from sales. The first collection was Strangers Among Us, which tackled mental health, and which I’m looking forward to going back and reading!
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a collection of short story based around the concept of care givers and the different types of carers found throughout society. Being fantasy fiction, the tales included range from robots to Gods and back again, and provides a unique perspective on the concept of care.
The tales in this, as would be expected in an anthology, were hit and miss for me. My favourite story was 'the gatekeeper' by Juliet Marillier. I loved the idea that cats, who are often perceived as aloof but all seeing, could be looking over us and protecting us - there in our final hours to give comfort and support. I'm a great believer that animals can help treat those in need - especially in illnesses such as dementia and depression. The story was great at exploring the roles of animals in a care setting, and debating if the human-animals relationship is essential to be well rounded individuals in life.
My other favourite story was 'Dreams as fragile as glass' by Caroline M. Yoachim. In this story, the author uses the concept of hereditary and congenital diseases in children to form an opinion about caregiving in those born with a disease that can effect their whole life, or act as a'ticking timebomb'. It covers the guilt seen in the parents of a girl, named Hikaru, who grows up knowing she will inherit the disability of literally turning into glass. We see Hikaru struggle with accepting her disability and trying to curb her desire to surf., as well as her mother's struggle to accept that she must let Hijaru live her life to the fullest.
The other stories, unfortunately, I was less interested in. Some of them were too short, and I couldn't really get a feel for the characters. I loved the concept for this collection of stories though, and think it's a brilliant idea in order to open up discussion about careers and caregiving.
This is a collection of short story based around the concept of care givers and the different types of carers found throughout society. Being fantasy fiction, the tales included range from robots to Gods and back again, and provides a unique perspective on the concept of care.
The tales in this, as would be expected in an anthology, were hit and miss for me. My favourite story was 'the gatekeeper' by Juliet Marillier. I loved the idea that cats, who are often perceived as aloof but all seeing, could be looking over us and protecting us - there in our final hours to give comfort and support. I'm a great believer that animals can help treat those in need - especially in illnesses such as dementia and depression. The story was great at exploring the roles of animals in a care setting, and debating if the human-animals relationship is essential to be well rounded individuals in life.
My other favourite story was 'Dreams as fragile as glass' by Caroline M. Yoachim. In this story, the author uses the concept of hereditary and congenital diseases in children to form an opinion about caregiving in those born with a disease that can effect their whole life, or act as a'ticking timebomb'. It covers the guilt seen in the parents of a girl, named Hikaru, who grows up knowing she will inherit the disability of literally turning into glass. We see Hikaru struggle with accepting her disability and trying to curb her desire to surf., as well as her mother's struggle to accept that she must let Hijaru live her life to the fullest.
The other stories, unfortunately, I was less interested in. Some of them were too short, and I couldn't really get a feel for the characters. I loved the concept for this collection of stories though, and think it's a brilliant idea in order to open up discussion about careers and caregiving.