Sometimes it’s easy to say goodbye – to a friend, to a way of life, to a lover. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. And sometimes they just won’t take the hint.
Sometimes it’s easy to say goodbye – to a friend, to a way of life, to a lover. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. And sometimes they just won’t take the hint.
SHORT TRIPS: FAREWELLS
The last time Jacqueline Rayner edited a BF short story anthology, it was “The Muses,” 12 books in the past. That release was brilliant, however, and with two solid volumes immediately preceding “Farewells,” expectations were expectedly high.
The Mother Road — Gareth Wigmore — This is Wigmore’s fourth Hartnell short story, and it’s up to his usual standard. The regulars are perfect and the story is lighthearted and amusing. And any Doctor Who story taking place in Chicago appeals to me. A fine start.
Father Figure — Steve Lyons — Downbeat, but well-written and gripping. This is potentially the most vicious, spiteful thing we’ve seen Daleks do, and it lays the groundwork for Victoria’s eventual departure. Something of a departure for Lyons, but very good.
The Bad Guy — Stephen Fewell — It’s an interesting idea, pointing out that while companions may fall in love seemingly at random with people they meet on alien planets, those aliens may do the same. However, this is a bit too forced and melodramatic for my taste.
Separation Day — Andy Campbell — I read this in a shopping mall food court, watching young lovers fawn over each other, and though I assume none of them had the high IQs of Campell’s central characters, I couldn’t help but think “There’s no way that lasts” in my cynical way. Predisposed to dislike this sort of thing to begin with, coupled with implied predestination from the “So free will is not an illusion” Doctor, of all people — no, did not like this one at all.
The Very Last Picture Show — Andrew Collins — Collins has a taste (and a talent) for the more humorous eras of the show, and here he tackles the relatively rare Williams-era Leela stories. The Doctor is patronizing as ever, Leela continues to be the most capable fish out of water of all time, and the story has that macabre underpinning of the best Williams stuff. Very amusing.
Into the Silent Land — Steven A. Roman — A new author to the range, and apparently a very good one — this is fine work. An explanation for the fourth Doctor’s changes in mood and behavior between S17 and S18 has never been presented, and here Roman frames it as the Doctor’s increasing awareness of his own mortality; this ties the story to the themes of S18. This sort of mood is unique to Tom Baker’s final season, and I wish we could see more set in this period.
Wake — Jake Elliot — Another new author, and another with talent. I like the experiment — setting a Doctor Who story in a large business-type enviroment, and then telling it through the eyes of one of the ordinary workers — but ultimately I don’t think it works, just because the story is too detached and the main character too uninteresting.
The Velvet Dark — Stewart Sheargold — Look, it’s well-written, and Sheargold captures the regulars competently enough, but this is exactly the sort of thing people talk about when they lampoon the Master. A ridiculous scheme to gain more regenerations, an over-elaborate trap for the Doctor, a silly villain’s lair (I ask you, sitcoms with the Master as every character on the television?), and lines like “Quite characteristically, the Master explained everything” — are we supposed to take this seriously at all? I’d say no, but the morose opening would suggest otherwise.
Life After Queth — Matt Kimpton — I’m not sure how Kimpton thought of a story featuring the Doctor, Tegan, and the Gravis, but I’m glad that he did. This is hilarious stuff — Kimpton shows a talent for literary comic timing, as well as an understanding of the Doctor-Tegan relationship and Davison’s underrated sarcasm. The ending is a delight as well.
Black and White — John Binns — The Doctor/Peri stuff is what makes this worthwhile, as the Doctor’s struggles with his evolution program are too esoteric to be sympathetic. The “give it a couple regenerations” ending is disappointing. But again, Binns does good work with the regulars, and it’s quite believable as the start of their time together.
Curtain Call — Joseph Lidster — Heartbreaking, really. The main character’s story goes exactly as it should be told — boring to start, followed by a needlessly elaborate description of a common scenario alien to the narrator, followed by a tragic ending. The desperate sixth Doctor is appropriate as well. Very uncompromising ending. Lidster continues to impress, even if this isn’t his best work.
Utopia — Darren Sellars — This is the same guy that wrote “Never Seen Cairo” in the first Christmas anthology? Really? “Utopia” is badly- and over-written, forced, preachy, and unenjoyable. I don’t doubt that this Doctor could talk someone into suicide in 15 minutes, but I’d need more convincing than this.
The Wickerwork Man — Paul Magrs — Amusing postmodern take on “The Wicker Man,” with suburbia replacing Christopher Lee’s cult. Magrs always writes on just this side of realism, and his central character is delightfully entertaining in his blithe acceptance of a time machine but his shock at his father sitting quietly at a backyard table. I’d be curious to see how Magrs would tackle a TV script.
The Three Paths — Ian Potter — I like the setting, and I like the image of Hartnell learning at the feet of a Time Lord older and wiser than himself, but ultimately I just can’t take a story where the TARDIS randomly lands Hartnell back on Gallifrey. It’s a fannish condemnation, I know, but it bothered me.
I wasn’t particularly impressed with this anthology. The prose standard is consistently high, as is the characterization, but only one story stood out as anything more than above average and several failed to impress me at all. It’s entertaining enough, I suppose, but that’s not enough to justify the cover price. Borrow, don’t buy.