Review: The Librarian
Multiple authors (anthology)
302 pages
Air and Nothingness Press (2022)
Read this if you like: Dr. Who, non-humanoid aliens, speculative short fiction
tl;dr summary: Interdimensional librarian has adventures, loans books, preserves knowledge across the multiverse.
See the book on the Air and Nothingness Press website
I’ve always had a shop local mindset, so whenever I find a press based in the Pittsburgh area I feel compelled to check them out. Rarely am I disappointed by what I get from taking this approach—but at the same time, I have rarely been so tickled and inspired by a local press’ offering as I was by The Librarian.
The concept of this anthology was a new one for me, first of all. I’ve read themed anthologies before but I’ve never read one where the theme was a shared character who inhabits all of the stories. I’m sure there are others out there and now that I’ve read this one, I’m officially going to be on a quest to find them, because it created a very unique reading experience. I would liken it to an episodic TV series. Each story presented the titular Librarian and their trusty sentient Satchel in a new time and place, called to solve a different character’s problem or provide needed wisdom to resolve some new culture’s dilemma or difficulty.
What makes the Librarian especially unique is that they’re a shapeshifting character, taking on an appearance that matches the people of the place they’re visiting. This includes switching genders—a she in many, a he in some, and a they in others. My favorite transformations were the ones where the Librarian becomes non-humanoid, including one story where they visit the world of living trees and another where they’re a wasp-like insect.
That wasp one, “The Art of Seeing” (Nathan Waddell), was one of the most intriguing stories in the anthology for me, in part because of a small detail: the author employs pictographic communication. It makes sense for the species—bees are known to communicate by dancing, and the pictographs used for character names are comprised mostly of arrows and shapes that seem to me to indicate movements. These were deftly employed and well-differentiated so that the reader could quickly identify which character was being referred to, even without a name written in English letters. Beyond this neat conlag detail, the story itself is a compelling non-humanoid take on class conflict and the hazards of bias and stereotypes that I found resonated with present day Earth culture in a way you might not expect from a story about, basically, bugs (if very large, smart bugs).
With 24 total stories in the anthology, there is truly something for every speculative fiction lover in this collection. Each reader is likely to have their own favorites, and I would say there weren’t any “low points” in the lot for me. That said, I did have some other standouts that really struck me as masterful for a variety of reasons. Among them:
- “The Bar At the End of the World” (Waverly X. Night) – in which a literal worldbuilder has retreated to a dingy bar after his first and favorite world ends in destruction. The concept of this tickled me, first of all, and also touches on the heart connection between a creator and the things they make. As an avid worldbuilder, I felt seen. Another fun detail is the drinks made in the story, which include ingredients like summer rainfall and the shadowless part of a cloud.
- “More than Color” (CL Hart) – in which the Librarian goes to a world where the inhabitants are born black-and-white and take on color the first time they feel love. This concept is what struck me the most about this—it’s such a unique way to approach a species, and one that resonates with me especially as someone who’s played with species that change color based on emotions. The plot hit me, too, centered on a girl who never “colored” and is ashamed of this deficiency. People who never color are seen as essentially psychopaths lacking in emotion and discriminated against in the culture, but the Librarian helps the girl gain confidence in herself and show her community that she still can love, despite her skin. The underlying metaphor here is fairly obvious but exceptionally well-crafted and beautiful in both its simplicity and execution.
- “Where Stories Meet” (EJ Delaney) – in which two cultures have been at war so long neither side really remembers why. One outpost is manned by a mother whose young child has known nothing but war. Despite this upbringing, the child asks the librarian for the stories her mother read as a child, while the mother initially only asks for technical manuals and other “practical” things that will help her win the war. In the end, though, she is reminded of the potential for better thanks to her child’s innocence, hope, and capacity for love. Maybe a bit saccharine in concept, but so well done I wasn’t mad about it—and, again, a message that feels super relevant for today’s world.
…the truth is, I could probably go through every story in the book and point out some detail or concept that I found absolutely delightful. The fact that all of the stories manage to be so distinctive while still focusing on the same core idea is maybe the most impressive thing about the anthology as a whole—the curation of these works is equally masterful as the writing within each piece, and the end result is an incredibly enjoyable read.
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