Rhiannon
Like the forests of the pacific northwest this collection of short climate fiction centres itself around, it is not so much esoteric but elusive and ephemeral… the stories are wisps of cypress and fir scented air: enticing, mysterious and beautifully transformative.
Having been raised in this very same environment, the collection feels at once familiar and evocative. I found myself quietly, wistfully content as each luminous and slightly disquieting story evoked an emotional, visceral response. There is an underlying subtle, amorphous horror to each, as the stories are ultimately the tales of the end of ‘us’ and of our mark left on the natural world, but told with the lush and reassuringly transformative vantage of aeons of time:
“…this mutability as salvation— that all our errors will, eventually, be re-absorbed…”
The writing is gorgeous and haunting, the pieces intriguing and provocative. I felt like I learned something (historically, scientifically, sociologically) different with each, while simultaneously falling into each individual story.
For me, Rebecca Campbell has become a firm favourite of speculative, weird fiction that also carries hopeful renewal. Somehow, finishing this, I feel a quiet optimism about the natural world’s ability to rebound that I didn’t think was possible.
Originally posted at www.amazon.ca.
Like the forests of the pacific northwest this collection of short climate fiction centres itself around, it is not so much esoteric but elusive and ephemeral… the stories are wisps of cypress and fir scented air: enticing, mysterious and beautifully transformative.
Having been raised in this very same environment, the collection feels at once familiar and evocative. I found myself quietly, wistfully content as each luminous and slightly disquieting story evoked an emotional, visceral response. There is an underlying subtle, amorphous horror to each, as the stories are ultimately the tales of the end of ‘us’ and of our mark left on the natural world, but told with the lush and reassuringly transformative vantage of aeons of time:
“…this mutability as salvation— that all our errors will, eventually, be re-absorbed…”
The writing is gorgeous and haunting, the pieces intriguing and provocative. I felt like I learned something (historically, scientifically, sociologically) different with each, while simultaneously falling into each individual story.
For me, Rebecca Campbell has become a firm favourite of speculative, weird fiction that also carries hopeful renewal. Somehow, finishing this, I feel a quiet optimism about the natural world’s ability to rebound that I didn’t think was possible.
Originally posted at www.amazon.ca.
