Unconventional Ghosts

January 22, 2025January 22, 2025 / Adam / Leave a comment

I love ghosts. I’ve never met a ghost myself, so the best I can do is read about them. Why ghosts? Well, they don’t have to follow our rather tiresome rules of gravity and thermodynamics! They could do a loop-de-loop in the air, just for the fun of it. Maybe I’m a bit jealous…

There are many shades of ghost: vengeful ghosts, poltergeists, ghosts with the intent to improve the life of a living person à la A Christmas Carol… These are all fun in their own way, but I find it especially delightful when ghosts are given roles that betray their traditional raisons d’être–ghosts that are not strictly malicious, nor are just around to aid the protagonist. These ghosts are maybe just as complicated and multi-faceted as the humans who begat them.

It’s also interesting to see how authors answer fundamental ghost questions like: Why has the ghost come into existence? What makes the ghost different from a living person? What does the ghost want? The answers to these questions change dramatically from author to author and story to story. They also feel substantial, weighty. Making assumptions and declarations about ghosts is not so different from making assumptions and declarations about life. Like a Rubin vase, where the negative space around a subject becomes its own subject, writing about ghosts and death is a clever way of writing about life.

Anyway, here are some exciting and not-quite-traditional portrayals of ghosts.

Ghostwritten by David Mitchell

David Mitchell’s first novel is ghost-obsessed. “Ghost” is even in the title! But instead of offering a treatise on ghosts and ghostliness, Mitchell’s ghosts, or “noncorpora,” are hard to pin down. They come in many forms, sometimes existing independently and other times hopping from human to human, using bodies as a kind of macabre public transport. For part of the book, we follow one such noncorporum as it travels through rural Mongolia in the body of an American tourist. This particular noncorporum is a self-described “inhuman humanist” and provides some delightfully empathetic insights into the human condition.

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Sometimes when driving home, I’ll hang out in the left lane even if the right lane is moving faster. In my head, I’m thinking, “I know the left lane is faster!” when that’s clearly not the case. People are stubborn, and George Saunders doesn’t see any reason why ghosts wouldn’t be stubborn as well. The ghosts in Lincoln in the Bardo are so stubborn, in fact, they cannot come to terms with the reality of death. Their “sick-forms” (read: corpses) lie in “sick-boxes” (read: coffins) and only need rest. With just a bit more rest, they’ll emerge in tip-top shape and be able to resume their prior lives (read: they won’t). These circumstances may seem hopeless and wretched, but Saunders is able to deliver one of the most affecting and life-affirming conclusions I’ve read. A jewel of a book.

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

Her Fearful Symmetry is a hoot. Unlike some of the other books mentioned here that use the otherworldly to contrast comically with the mundane, Her Fearful Symmetry wholeheartedly commits to flights of fancy. Romance and death intertwine and are taken to their melodramatic extremes. There are envious ghosts, faked deaths, identical twins posing as one another: everything you could possibly want in a story. It’s often absurd and always sublimely entertaining.

100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

In 100 Years of Solitude, characters are haunted by their lineages. Decisions and dispositions repeat from generation to generation, entire lifetimes become ghostly echoes of the past. It is no surprise, then, that actual ghosts occasionally show up to haunt the residents of Macondo. Touchingly (and thematically), isolation is what brings several ghosts back from the dead. They return because they “could not bear the solitude,” or in another case, “the yearning for the living was so intense, the need for company was so pressing.” Human connection is so fundamental a force that not even death can stand in its way.

Welcome to the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut is a famed humanist, but he has mixed feelings about human bodies. Take Breakfast of Champions for example: the protagonist’s rapidly declining mental health is due to an abundance of “bad chemicals” in the brain. Or both Slaughterhouse-Five and Sirens of Titan, where characters’ cannot even rely upon their bodies to stay rooted in space-time. It’s no surprise then that he was interested in a world where humans are not subservient to their oft-malfunctioning bodies. Such is the conceit of the short story, “Unready to Wear,” found in the collection, Welcome to the Monkey House. A mathematician discovers a technique that allows one’s soul to be separated from their physical being and float about unburdened by corporeal whims.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

Ghosts can represent trauma, guilt, love, regret, suffering, anger, dehumanization–really anything if an author can realize their vision. But since ghosts can mean so many things, they have the potential to become unwieldy, or conversely, underbaked. Toni Morrison does not have this problem. The ghost in Beloved is loaded with nuanced meaning, compelling but elusive. This is a literary balancing act and a depiction of ghostliness so unique that it stands alone. Brutal, beautiful, and haunting.

Unorthodox Aliens

December 23, 2024December 23, 2024 / Adam / 1 Comment

Reading science fiction can be overwhelming — what on earth is a chrono-synclastic infundibulum? Despite the tough jargon and speculative concepts, it’s quite an inward-looking genre. These stories typically loop back around to reflect something about ourselves — an assumption or expectation or fear that could use some interrogation. Aliens are possibly the most overt display of this narrative device. They are funhouse mirror versions of ourselves: the same but different. Aliens carry all the social, cultural, and political baggage we tend to associate with Otherness, but evoke sympathy too. At the end of E.T., are we not puffy-eyed to see that strange creature, who’s been nurtured and accepted, finally return home?

And don’t we all feel like E.T. — an alien, a pariah — in some way?

Here are some novels and stories that feature subtle and unconventional alien characters.

Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut loves his unorthodox aliens. Hand-shaped Tralfamadorians play a significant role in Slaughterhouse-Five, but I’d like to mention a minor alien race from Sirens of Titan. In a slight deviation from his main journey, protagonist Malachi Constant crash-lands on a planet populated by harmoniums: flat, kite-shaped beings that cling to cave walls and only perceive the world through touch. They communicate with limited telepathic abilities and are able to send two possible messages:

The first is an automatic response to the second, and the second is an automatic response to the first.
The first is, “Here I am, here I am, here I am.”
The second is, “So glad you are, so glad you are, so glad you are.”

Hyperion by Dan Simmons

Hyperion borrows its framing device from The Canterbury Tales. Its narrative unfolds as each of six pilgrims tells their portion of the story on their way to the time tombs, where they plan to confront the omnipotent Shrike. The Shrike fits your evil-monster-alien archetype (with some twists along the way), but there are other alien beings that populate the many planets of Hyperion. Most poignant is Simmons’ depiction of a human race that has lost its home: the Earth. They become aliens in their own right, establishing new civilizations around the galaxy but ultimately “alienated” in one way or another.

Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang

“Story of Your Life,” from the short story collection Stories of Your Life and Others, is about language, specifically the field of science known as linguistic relativity. Researchers in this field try to determine whether the language we use affects the way we think. For example, some languages describe time using distance terms (like “short” and “long”) and others describe time using quantity related terms (like “much” or “little”). A study from 2017 concluded that, under certain circumstances, these language differences result in actual differences in time perception.

Chiang takes this idea to its extreme and introduces an alien race that communicates in a completely circular language. As a result, these aliens perceive time as though it were a circle, living the entirety of their lives simultaneously- past, present, and future.

What if a human were to learn their strange and powerful language? “Story of Your Life” was adapted into the 2016 film Arrival.

The Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu

Some might be familiar with Ken Liu’s translation work. He’s best known for the English translation of The Three-Body Problem, a sci-fi epic by Liu Cixin (now a Netflix Original). He also writes novels and short stories that blend sci-fi, fantasy, and folklore.

His short story collection Paper Menagerie opens with “The Bookmaking Habits of Select Species.” The title says it all — how might alien races create persistent representations of their language and thoughts? I particularly like how he describes the Allatians: they stick their proboscis onto an impressionable surface, and as they speak, their proboscis vibrates and etches a groove into the surface. To read what another Allatian has written, one drags their own proboscis through the groove, and a hollow part of their skull amplifies the sound; the voice of the writer is recreated.

The Book of Strange New Things and Under the Skin by Michel Faber

Aliens are a recurring theme in Michel Faber’s writing. His 2014 novel, The Book of Strange New Things, takes place on a far-away planet that has been introduced to Christianity. Missionary Peter Leigh becomes the new minister of a docile alien congregation but struggles to reconcile his ecclesiastical commitment and the guilt of leaving his wife back on Earth, where climate change and political turmoil conspire to topple civilization.

Under the Skin, Faber’s first novel, paints a darker portrait of humanity (or alienity, ha). It’s the kind of book that holds its cards close and lets the reader marvel (and shudder) as the story progresses.

Faber presents a kaleidoscope of Otherness; themes of exploitation, gender, immigration, class politics, and animal cruelty are woven throughout and explored with satirical levity. The book was loosely adapted into a movie of the same name in 2013 with Scarlett Johansson.

Which “Unorthodox Aliens” am I missing? Let me know in the comments section below.

Haunting Fiction: 10 Dark Tales to Chill You This Fall

October 28, 2024October 28, 2024 / Lauren / Leave a comment

My backyard is full of fallen leaves, and the home improvement stores are full of animatronic skeletons. It’s the time of year when I can unabashedly indulge in my love of horror. Gothic horror. Psychological horror. Cosmic horror. Anything that lets me experience tension and dread, at least within the safe little confines of fiction. Gore and gross-out horror doesn’t really do it for me. I prefer the supernatural, the otherworldly, stories that tap into the basic human fear of the unknown. There’s nothing like the existential terror that comes when you dare to look into the void – and you see it looking back at you. But it’s still fiction. You still get to put it back on the shelf and go about your life after you read that last page.

Or do you?

Here are the stories that have haunted me the most: tense and dark tales that unfurl like a beautiful piece of black silk.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (1898)

A governess is sent to an isolated country manor to care for a pair of young orphans, and she begins to believe that the children are being visited by spirits with malevolent intent. This is a classic ghost story whose ambiguity has provided more than a century’s worth of analysis and adaptation, most recently in the form of Netflix’s The Haunting of Bly Manor in 2020.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (1959)

You may know Shirley Jackson from your 11th grade reading assignment of her short story The Lottery, but this novel set the bar for modern gothic horror. It’s a classic haunted house story that has influenced writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Stephen King, and Neil Gaiman.

Ghost Story by Peter Straub (1979)

A group of aging men gathers once a week to tell ghost stories – but one ghost from their shared past seems to be coming back for revenge. Straub hooks you in from the first scene and builds masterfully in one of the best-written horror stories you’ll ever read.

Everything’s Eventual by Stephen King (2002)

Some point to The Shining and The Stand as King’s best works, but I have always been a fan of his shorter fiction, such as the terrifying novella The Mist. Everything’s Eventual is a strong contender for my favorite of his short story collections. Its best tales are about a boy who meets the devil, a painting that keeps changing in disturbing ways, and a skeptic’s night in a supposedly haunted hotel room.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (2005)

The core story of House of Leaves involves a family who moves into their new house and discovers it’s bigger than they think. Their story is told in a documentary video, which is described and analyzed in an unfinished academic manuscript by another person, which itself is transcribed and footnoted by yet another person. It’s a structurally weird book that’s just as disorienting as the house itself.

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher (2020)

It’s no coincidence that the horror genre – that safe box of fiction where you can explore fear without real-life consequences – exploded in the wake of the very real global pandemic, and the last few years have borne plenty of new and terrible places to explore. This story revolves around a recently-divorced woman who discovers a hidden door in her uncle’s museum of curiosities. The door leads to an alternate reality that is not quite right. It’s thoroughly creepy in a Lovecraftian way, and the quirky characters inject some humor into this otherwise unsettling read.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones (2021)

Four Blackfeet men break a promise during elk hunting season, and now that promise is coming back to haunt them in a very real way, picking them off one by one. It’s pretty gory, but not gratuitously so, and the supernatural elements, the nuanced treatment of Native culture, and the quality of writing were compelling enough for me to overlook the more graphic parts. It’s also one of those stories that surprises you by ending with love and unexpected tears. (Yes – it’s okay to cry at horror.)

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo (2021)

Andrew is haunted by the revenant of his best friend Eddie, who suddenly died right before Andrew was about to join him in Nashville. Andrew takes Eddie’s place in his house, his graduate program, and his circle of fast-living friends as he tries to uncover the truth of what happened. There’s a Southern gothic setting, romantic tension so thick you could slice it up and eat it, and a host of queer characters who are not punished for their queerness, but whose acceptance of themselves leads them to happiness. This slow burn is more moody than scary, and it’s a refreshing and thoroughly enjoyable read.

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward (2021)

In a boarded-up house on a dead-end street lives a family of three. A teenage girl who isn’t allowed outside, not after last time. A man who drinks alone in front of his TV, trying to ignore the gaps in his memory. And a house cat who loves napping and reading the Bible. An unspeakable secret binds them together, but when a new neighbor moves in next door, what is buried out among the birch trees may come back to haunt them all. The parent in me found some parts difficult to read, but I needed to keep going and find out what was going on – and the ending completely turned it upside-down.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield (2022)

Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home. Remember how I said it’s okay to cry at horror? Get your tissues ready, because this is also a heartbreaking story about love and grief.

Quick Reads for Your Fast Paced Life

August 16, 2022June 25, 2022 / Louise / Leave a comment

Lots of people start the summer with impressive reading plans. But as we know, life is busy, and finding time to read can often be a challenge. If you think it’s hard to find something of quality to read that’s under 200 pages, you’re not alone, but guess what? There are a lot of quick reads at CPL that are also good books. You could read any of these in a weekend, keep a few on hand to read when you get a few minutes of downtime. Summer Reading for the win!

The Grownup by Gillian Flynn (63 pages). No time for Gone Girl? This Edgar Award winning short story by the same author is creepy goodness, compacted.
Train Dreams by Denis Johnson (116 pages). Suffused with the history and landscapes of the American West, this book captures the disappearance of a distinctly American way of life.
The Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka (129 pages). Follows the stories of six Japanese mail-order brides whose new lives in early twentieth-century San Francisco.
Heather, the Totality by Matthew Weiner (138 pages.) The story of a collision course between a dangerous young man and a privileged couple who compete for their daughter’s attention.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson (146 pages). A deliciously unsettling novel about a perverse, isolated, and possibly murderous family and the struggle that ensues when a cousin arrives at their estate. A classic.
Sisters by Lily Tuck (156 pages). A new wife struggles with her unrelenting obsession with her husband’s first wife.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata (163 pages). A Japanese woman who has been working at a convenience store for eighteen years finds friendship with an alienated, cynical, and bitter young man who becomes her coworker.
Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf (179 pages). A bittersweet yet inspiring story of a man and a woman who, in advanced age, come together to wrestle with the events of their lives and their hopes for the imminent future.
The Vegetarian by Han Kang (188 pages). A darkly allegorical tale of a woman who decides to stop eating meat, is denounced a subversive, and becomes estranged from those closest to her.
Goodbye, Vitamin by Rachel Khong (196 pages). Newly dumped by her fiance, Ruth moves back in with her parents, whose decline is both comical and poignant.

Short Stuff

August 2, 2022June 25, 2022 / Susan O. / Leave a comment

“I’d like to read more, but I don’t have time to read a long, involved story.“

There’s a solution for that. It’s called a short story.

Short stories are those that can be read in under an hour – often not more than 5,000 words (beyond 7,500 is called a novella, and they are often published alone in little books, like Stephen King’s The Shawshank Redemption, J.A. Jance’s The Old Blue Line, or Sh irley Goodness and Mercy by Debbie Macomber) and they are often grouped together in anthology volumes, anthology meaning, literally, a collection of stories, the same way a CD album is a collection of individual songs.

Short stories are an art form of their own, still carrying the same structures of their longer novel cousins (plot, themes, metaphors, etc) but in a very short package. Some are complete stories (think of Ray Bradbury’s All Summer in a Day, or Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery) while others might just give you a slice of life, a few hours in the life of an individual with no clear beginning and no clear end, leaving you to wonder what might come next (some stories by Anton Chekhov, or Ernest Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants). They can be happy or sad, comic or dramatic, or full of irony (The Necklace, by Guy de Maupassant). Sometimes an anthology might consist of short stories on a single theme (love, loss, westerns, adventure), or they could be a mix of anything. And the beauty of an anthology is you can read one or two stories, or the whole thing, depending on your time and interest.

But short stories don’t carry the same weight as novels.

Of course they do! Many writers are known more for their short stories than for their novels – Alice Munro is considered one of the premier short story writers, having won the 2013 Nobel Prize for Literature in part for her short stories. Ray Bradbury is another prolific short-story writer, not quite horror, not quite science fiction, not quite fantasy, just imaginative. His philosophy was to write one short story a week, because out of 52 short stories, you were bound to have three or four that were really good. Short stories are easier to sell, if not to anthologies then to magazines – many a writer got their start in The New Yorker, Collier’s, or Atlantic, let alone Good Housekeeping and Readers’ Digest. Some of the most popular authors – Isaac Asimov, Dashiell Hammett, and Raymond Chandler – carved their name writing for pulp fiction magazines.

Short stories don’t always stay short, either. Many popular films started out as short stories – The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (published in The New Yorker) (Did you realize this one takes place in Waterbury, Connecticut?), All About Eve, 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, 3:10 to Yuma, Shawshank Redemption, Minority Report, Brokeback Mountain, Rear Window, Total Recall, and many, many others.