I supported Old Moon Quarterly for their 7th and
8th issues. I’ve been reading the magazine since Issue 2 (I had a story in that
issue). I recently finished Issue 7 and really enjoyed it. I’m reluctant to
make generalizations about the issue because the stories are so different, but
I think some careful observations can be made. This issue is not generically
consistent--and that’s not a fault. I’m not sure what happened between Issues 3
and 6, but the editors now seem more willing to publish works that test the
conventions of established genres, specifically highly conventionalized genres
like sword and sorcery. There are some stories written in a conventional
narrative style, but there are also some decidedly experimental works. I’ll
touch on those shortly. In essence, this was an eclectic and artistically
ambitious issue. Old Moon Quarterly doesn’t seem interested in merely
publishing more of the same.
The introduction, attributed to the Editors, is interesting.
It reads like old-school literary history, circa 1940. The prose style is a little
overwrought, but it combines aesthetic analysis with social commentary and revs
you up for the reading to come. In other words, it’s an effective introduction.
The first story, “The Ember-eyed,” by James Enge, is a
phantasmagoric, visual fever dream. The main character, Morlock Ambrosius, has
been appearing in S&S magazine pages for years, as well as in his own
novels and anthologies. I first encountered Morlock in Swords and Dark
Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery (2010), and I’ve been following Enge’s
work since. Several of his Morlock stories appear in Tales from the
Magician’s Skull. This story is epic in scope, featuring god-like
intelligences, major quests, and cosmic struggles. The main character arguably
asserts himself against that scale. One aspect of sword and sorcery is that the
stakes aren’t usually that high. Here, we see a character on the verge of
transforming from a sword and sorcery protagonist into an epic fantasy
protagonist--yet he decides not to take up the mythical call. I really enjoyed
this story.
The second story, “Stolen by Moonlight, Betrothed by Sun,”
by E. Catherine Tobler, is one of the experimental pieces I mentioned. It’s
written in the first person from the perspective of an ancient sword that is in
love with its bearer. The writing is lyrical, artful, even romantic. The plot
structure doesn’t proceed in a conventional way. There is no clear conflict, no
resolution--mostly a series of reflections and introspective vignettes that
chart the slow but steady trek of the sword back to its beloved wielder. I
applaud Tobler, whose talent is on display here, and I applaud the editors, who
boldly chose this story. After reading it, I kept thinking about it. I
wouldn’t, however, say this was traditionally entertaining. I approached it
expecting a fantasy adventure, and that’s not the spirit you should bring to
this piece. This is more an artful, experimental work with fantasy-adventure
trappings.
The third story, “The Torrent of Souls,” by H.R. Laurence,
was my favorite. It’s also the most conventionally plotted adventure fantasy in
the issue. There’s a clear protagonist, a clear conflict, forward momentum to
the climax and resolution, and a rich cast of atmospheric and interesting characters.
Laurence renders a very immersive environment, and there are some gorgeous
images. Here’s an example: “The corpse-horse galloped upon nothing. Something
huge moved in the clouds beneath, a shimmering black gleam writhing through the
gaps in the stratus like a sea serpent, its coils emerging and submerging in
roiling, tumultuous mist […].” This is so cool: a flying zombie horse riding
across the clouds at night. Some might say this is puerile. They’re partially
right. But if they think the puerility of this image is a problem, then they
don’t get it.
The next work, “Footnotes on ‘Only Forever,’ the Grey
Witch’s Last Poem,” was another experimental piece. As the title suggests, it
consists mostly of footnotes, echoing the structure of Nabokov’s Pale Fire.
Alas, this one didn’t work for me. It’s lyrical, and there’s clear talent on
display, but it felt too delicate and often overwrought. I appreciate the
editors taking a chance on this, and I respect Carlie Voorhis for writing
outside the box. I’m just one reader, and my tastes run more conventional when
it comes to fantasy. Chalk it up to a mismatch between writer, text, and
reader. (Side note: I loved Pale Fire, so the experimental form itself
wasn’t the issue.)
Next was “The Last Gift,” by Jason Mills. This was a
gorgeous, emotional story that actually made me wipe away a tear near the end.
Next to Laurence’s, this was my second favorite. Mills’s story, about wanderers
pursued by a djinn that assumes various challenging forms, conveys deep
humanity and even wisdom. I’m not sure how old Mills is, but this seems written
by someone who has thought about life, its brevity, and what it all might mean.
I want my nephew to read this and hopefully learn something from it. This is
ambitious fantasy, not just in terms of literary art but also in terms of its
potential to teach.
Next was “Last Day on the Farm,” perhaps the most skillfully
written from a craft perspective, by Matthew John. John is a talented writer.
You can tell he understands the pacing of adventure fantasy--the necessary
beats—and how to modulate introspection, horror, action, and wonder. This is a
roller coaster of a story that grips you from start to finish. Lachmannon, the
main character, appears in John’s anthology To Walk on Worlds and
elsewhere. Honestly, this read like some of the best Black Library
fiction I’ve encountered. It has the grim darkness of the Warhammer Old World
and the vividness of a writer like C.L. Werner. I would say that readers with
little patience for experimental fiction might want to start with this story
and John’s other work.
“Bleed Me in the Water” by Hailey Piper was a strange story
about an evil, vindictive witch who plots to kill an entire village by inciting
them to attack a sea goddess. I had trouble identifying with the protagonist.
It was never clear why she was so hateful or why she wanted to kill everyone in
the village. I’m okay with villain-heroes, but I need to sympathize with them
on some level. I’m afraid I might have missed something, because the protagonist
just came off as a psychopath attacking innocent people. When I finished the
story, I didn’t know what to think.
“Of Decadence a Child” by David Costa was entertaining and
skillfully written, but it leaned toward style over substance. The main
character is a sort of holy crusader disgusted by the fallen world. He goes on
a tenacious quest to kill a monster, and he does. I think this piece was more a
lyrical study, an attempt to render a richly textured world, rather than to
tell an original story.
“In Her Waters, Raging,” by Lora Gray, is a beautiful free
verse poem with evocative imagery featuring a sea-hag or selkie--some sort of
water spirit that kills the wayward.
“Lessons from Aulis” by Monica Joyce Evans reminded me of
John Barth’s postmodernist experimental novel Chimera (1972). I didn’t
care for Chimera, and I’m afraid my associations with that novel shaded
my understanding of this story. Also, this was the one piece that felt out of
place. It’s a postmodernist re-telling of an established Greek myth. With
respect to Joyce (who is, once again, clearly talented), genres are contracts
between readers and writers. I think it’s a stretch to call this a fantasy.
The issue ends with a literary review essay by Graham Thomas
Wilcox, one of the editors. His writing style here was strange--intentionally
anachronistic, as if adopting the persona of a Victorian sage. I appreciated
the cultural commentary. He seemed to critique contemporary fantasy fiction for
being too conventional and praised E.R. Eddison for his anachronism and
distinctiveness. Perhaps the style was a meta-commentary, an attempt to
harmonize with Eddison.
Overall, this was one of the best reading experiences I’ve
had in 2024. Old Moon Quarterly, I understand, emerged from sword and sorcery
fandom, and I’m starting to wonder if that genre is holding it back. The
magazine clearly shows more interest in experimental fantasy and artful
prose--something that’s the opposite of pulp fantasy. I’m looking forward to
Issue 8 and future issues. The contributors, editors, and publishers should be
proud of their uncompromising vision and artistic authenticity.
About the Reviewer: Jason Ray Carney is the Managing Editor of Spiral Tower and a Senior Lecturer in the Department of English of Christopher Newport University. CNU Faculty Page. jrcarney52.bsky.social.
