Scan barcode
A review by hrjones
The Sea Is Ours: Tales from Steampunk Southeast Asia by Joyce Chng
4.0
Literature is a collaborative exercise between author and reader, with the story emerging from the intersection of intention and reception. That collaborative experience is very different for those who have small versus large intersections of background between the author and the potential readership. (I am very awkwardly trying to avoid using words like “minority” and “marginalized” which carry an inherent sense that U.S. publishing culture is the ruler against which all else is to be compared.) The author who writes from a cultural experience that is shared by a relatively small proportion of their potential readership (whether due to demographics or cultural hegemony) must choose between spending time bringing the bulk of their readers up to speed on unfamiliar concepts or simply lobbing those concepts straight at them with the instructions, “Catch it or duck!”
In some ways, SFF authors who are in this position have an advantage, in that the SFF readership is (in theory) accustomed to stories that plunge them into unfamiliar worlds and expect them to pick up what they need to know from context. We’ve been trained to expect unfamiliar vocabulary and concepts, to be tossed in media res, and to work things out as we go along. There are existing reading protocols to deal with the unfamiliar.
This is “in theory” because SFF readers can be startlingly fixated on specific cultural models as being somehow more real and natural than others. Cultural background is a large part of that, whether it derives from the reader’s own culture of origin, or from the established body of existing SFF literature. And, unlike purely invented cultures like Middle Earth or Star Trek’s Federation, the real-life and literary/mythological elements a non-Western author brings to their SFF are shared by some proportion of their readers, creating a dichotomous experience where some readers will see deeper resonances than others. I’ll be one of the readers who doesn’t necessarily see those deeper resonances, so I can only review the stories in terms of my own understanding.
The concept behind The Sea is Ours is exactly what it says on the label: steampunk stories set in Southeast Asia, written primarily (although not exclusively?) by authors whose own roots are in that region. The title is a delightful play on both the geographic acronym (SEA) and the significant presence that the ocean plays in this corner of the world.
(Note that I wrote up these reviews as I read each piece, so there will be references to “of what I’ve read so far” in places.)
“The Consequence of Sound” by Timothy Dimacali – A coming-of-age story involving the mastery of a music-based levitation technology, giant sky-whales, and the loss of innocence. A vividly-told story with great world-building, although I found the ending too abrupt.
“Chasing Volcanoes” by Marilag Angway – If you’re the sort who enjoys a loving focus on exploring the details and consequences of a fictional technology (in this case, “mining” volcanoes for energy-producing gas), this is for you. There are also political and personal elements to the plot, but they felt more awkward. The ending fell flat for me, not so much because it followed standard rescue-and-redemption tropes, but because it hinged on a mechanical failure of a safety suit that didn’t work for me on a purely technical level.
“Ordained” by L.L. Hill – I have the feeling this story was trying to do something I didn’t quite get. It’s a very atmospheric tale of an encounter between two brothers: one a Buddhist monk, one who has embraced colonialist culture. The steampunk element involves clockwork insects, which are also involved in some fashion in the only thing that seems to provide a moment of overt conflict. But the resolution, if present, is very subtle. The specific religious framing of the interaction made me a bit more willing to accept it as an experiential rather than plot-driven piece, but I’m still certain that I’m missing parts. The descriptive language is so lush and ambitious that it falls over the edge into purple prose, for me. Some of the descriptive passages became so convoluted in their syntax that I had difficulty determining exactly what image I was supposed to be envisioning.
“The Last Aswang” by Alessa Hinlo – A sharp and satisfying tale of international relations involving both human and supernatural players with a violent and somewhat bloodthirsty conclusion. There were a few editorial glitches that I found distracting, but I liked the gradual exposition and foreshadowing.
“Life Under Glass” by Nghi Vo – A sweet and colorful vignette of a specimen-collecting expedition that turns up something unexpected. There’s also a relationship/self-discovery thread in the story. Nicely written but I had a hard time finding a satisfying plot. Neither of the main themes really resolved in any clear way. It was also hard to tie it into the steampunk theme. There was some handwaving about stasis tanks for the specimens, but in a very incidental way.
“Between Severed Souls” by Paolo Chikiamco – This is the second story in the collection so far that sets up conflict and contrast between siblings, one who has adopted the trappings of colonialist invaders and one who has not. This was quite a complex and tightly plotted story, involving a woodcarver and a piece of lumber with magical properties, in addition to something of a love triangle (with one member being dead) and the risks and consequences of warfare. There are mechanical devices and mechanical body parts to bring the steampunk balance to the other more supernatural elements. A well-written and satisfying story overall.
“The Unmaking of the Cuadro Amoroso” by Kate Osias – A dark story about love, relationships, and revenge where the steampunk elements are front and center in the action. The underlying theme is how political powers twist and warp creative people for their own ends, destroying what they hope to use. Bonus points for non-default sexuality.
“Working Woman” by Olivia Ho – The politics and morality of cybernetic people is central to this rather violent story of what people do to survive…and what they do when they decide survival isn’t the highest priority. There are also strong themes of the interactions of distinct cultures in close proximity, the human toll of industrialization, and the bonds that women form against all other differences. Despite the story being considerably more violent than I usually care for (although the violence feels more in the comic-book vein than being viscerally horrific), this may be my favorite of the collection. Excellently written with solid and intricate world-building.
“Spider Here” by Robert Liow – This story did two things very well and the rest somewhat disappointingly. The protagonist is a physically disabled girl who creates bio-cybernetic spider housings (that is, housings inhabited and powered by spiders) for combat entertainments. A larger-scale version of the sort of work she creates appears as her mobility assistive device. Both the vivid description of the technical details of her work, and the very matter-of-fact inclusion of her disability and its compensations are high points. Unfortunately, the story as a whole is disappointing. The opening narrative is too full of unnecessary explanation, while in contrast certain prominent events and characters are introduced that are never really followed up on. And the plot just sort of stops rather than concluding.
“The Chamber of Souls” by zm quỳnh – A group of Vietnamese refugees are rescued from the open sea only to find themselves in the hands of aliens from another world (although the exact relationship of their world to ours is never clear). This initial charity turns dangerous when the refugees are thrust into the middle of an inter-alien conflict and discover certain incompatibilities between human and alien physical requirements. The protagonist goes to extremes to rescue an alien cybernetic entity that carries a valuable component. The conclusion of the story features themes of displacement, adjustment, and trying to reconstruct one’s native culture in an alien environment. In the final scene, the protagonist is offered an option for ultimate integration with his new environs—an option that I found intensely disturbing, but that could be viewed either as a cautionary metaphor for the assimilation process, or as a positive act within a cultural system with different rules and values than my own. I’d be curious to know which the author intended or whether the ambiguity itself was intentional.
“Petrified” by Ivanna Mendels – Some intricate and deep worldbuilding that for me was undermined by the story being conveyed in awkward info-dumps and as-you-know-Bobs. The premise was interesting, but the writing style didn’t work at all for me.
“The Insects and Women Sing Together” by Pear Nuallak – A story of the overlooked strength and creativity of women against a setting of political struggle and war. I particularly liked the way it depicted a variety of women’s relationships and different ways of resisting narrow expectations. Oh, and queerness. I liked that part too. This ties with the Olivia Ho story for my favorite.
Overall, a somewhat uneven collection. The cultural aspect of the theme was strong and consistent, even if the steampunk aspect occasionally faltered. The characters are delightfully diverse within the specified setting, particularly in terms of gender, sexuality, and disability. There were places where a stronger editorial hand would have been useful, but several of the stories shone out brightly. I particularly liked “Between Severed Souls” by Paolo Chikiamco, “Working Woman” by Olivia Ho, and “The Insects and Women Sing Together” by Pear Nuallak.
In some ways, SFF authors who are in this position have an advantage, in that the SFF readership is (in theory) accustomed to stories that plunge them into unfamiliar worlds and expect them to pick up what they need to know from context. We’ve been trained to expect unfamiliar vocabulary and concepts, to be tossed in media res, and to work things out as we go along. There are existing reading protocols to deal with the unfamiliar.
This is “in theory” because SFF readers can be startlingly fixated on specific cultural models as being somehow more real and natural than others. Cultural background is a large part of that, whether it derives from the reader’s own culture of origin, or from the established body of existing SFF literature. And, unlike purely invented cultures like Middle Earth or Star Trek’s Federation, the real-life and literary/mythological elements a non-Western author brings to their SFF are shared by some proportion of their readers, creating a dichotomous experience where some readers will see deeper resonances than others. I’ll be one of the readers who doesn’t necessarily see those deeper resonances, so I can only review the stories in terms of my own understanding.
The concept behind The Sea is Ours is exactly what it says on the label: steampunk stories set in Southeast Asia, written primarily (although not exclusively?) by authors whose own roots are in that region. The title is a delightful play on both the geographic acronym (SEA) and the significant presence that the ocean plays in this corner of the world.
(Note that I wrote up these reviews as I read each piece, so there will be references to “of what I’ve read so far” in places.)
“The Consequence of Sound” by Timothy Dimacali – A coming-of-age story involving the mastery of a music-based levitation technology, giant sky-whales, and the loss of innocence. A vividly-told story with great world-building, although I found the ending too abrupt.
“Chasing Volcanoes” by Marilag Angway – If you’re the sort who enjoys a loving focus on exploring the details and consequences of a fictional technology (in this case, “mining” volcanoes for energy-producing gas), this is for you. There are also political and personal elements to the plot, but they felt more awkward. The ending fell flat for me, not so much because it followed standard rescue-and-redemption tropes, but because it hinged on a mechanical failure of a safety suit that didn’t work for me on a purely technical level.
“Ordained” by L.L. Hill – I have the feeling this story was trying to do something I didn’t quite get. It’s a very atmospheric tale of an encounter between two brothers: one a Buddhist monk, one who has embraced colonialist culture. The steampunk element involves clockwork insects, which are also involved in some fashion in the only thing that seems to provide a moment of overt conflict. But the resolution, if present, is very subtle. The specific religious framing of the interaction made me a bit more willing to accept it as an experiential rather than plot-driven piece, but I’m still certain that I’m missing parts. The descriptive language is so lush and ambitious that it falls over the edge into purple prose, for me. Some of the descriptive passages became so convoluted in their syntax that I had difficulty determining exactly what image I was supposed to be envisioning.
“The Last Aswang” by Alessa Hinlo – A sharp and satisfying tale of international relations involving both human and supernatural players with a violent and somewhat bloodthirsty conclusion. There were a few editorial glitches that I found distracting, but I liked the gradual exposition and foreshadowing.
“Life Under Glass” by Nghi Vo – A sweet and colorful vignette of a specimen-collecting expedition that turns up something unexpected. There’s also a relationship/self-discovery thread in the story. Nicely written but I had a hard time finding a satisfying plot. Neither of the main themes really resolved in any clear way. It was also hard to tie it into the steampunk theme. There was some handwaving about stasis tanks for the specimens, but in a very incidental way.
“Between Severed Souls” by Paolo Chikiamco – This is the second story in the collection so far that sets up conflict and contrast between siblings, one who has adopted the trappings of colonialist invaders and one who has not. This was quite a complex and tightly plotted story, involving a woodcarver and a piece of lumber with magical properties, in addition to something of a love triangle (with one member being dead) and the risks and consequences of warfare. There are mechanical devices and mechanical body parts to bring the steampunk balance to the other more supernatural elements. A well-written and satisfying story overall.
“The Unmaking of the Cuadro Amoroso” by Kate Osias – A dark story about love, relationships, and revenge where the steampunk elements are front and center in the action. The underlying theme is how political powers twist and warp creative people for their own ends, destroying what they hope to use. Bonus points for non-default sexuality.
“Working Woman” by Olivia Ho – The politics and morality of cybernetic people is central to this rather violent story of what people do to survive…and what they do when they decide survival isn’t the highest priority. There are also strong themes of the interactions of distinct cultures in close proximity, the human toll of industrialization, and the bonds that women form against all other differences. Despite the story being considerably more violent than I usually care for (although the violence feels more in the comic-book vein than being viscerally horrific), this may be my favorite of the collection. Excellently written with solid and intricate world-building.
“Spider Here” by Robert Liow – This story did two things very well and the rest somewhat disappointingly. The protagonist is a physically disabled girl who creates bio-cybernetic spider housings (that is, housings inhabited and powered by spiders) for combat entertainments. A larger-scale version of the sort of work she creates appears as her mobility assistive device. Both the vivid description of the technical details of her work, and the very matter-of-fact inclusion of her disability and its compensations are high points. Unfortunately, the story as a whole is disappointing. The opening narrative is too full of unnecessary explanation, while in contrast certain prominent events and characters are introduced that are never really followed up on. And the plot just sort of stops rather than concluding.
“The Chamber of Souls” by zm quỳnh – A group of Vietnamese refugees are rescued from the open sea only to find themselves in the hands of aliens from another world (although the exact relationship of their world to ours is never clear). This initial charity turns dangerous when the refugees are thrust into the middle of an inter-alien conflict and discover certain incompatibilities between human and alien physical requirements. The protagonist goes to extremes to rescue an alien cybernetic entity that carries a valuable component. The conclusion of the story features themes of displacement, adjustment, and trying to reconstruct one’s native culture in an alien environment. In the final scene, the protagonist is offered an option for ultimate integration with his new environs—an option that I found intensely disturbing, but that could be viewed either as a cautionary metaphor for the assimilation process, or as a positive act within a cultural system with different rules and values than my own. I’d be curious to know which the author intended or whether the ambiguity itself was intentional.
“Petrified” by Ivanna Mendels – Some intricate and deep worldbuilding that for me was undermined by the story being conveyed in awkward info-dumps and as-you-know-Bobs. The premise was interesting, but the writing style didn’t work at all for me.
“The Insects and Women Sing Together” by Pear Nuallak – A story of the overlooked strength and creativity of women against a setting of political struggle and war. I particularly liked the way it depicted a variety of women’s relationships and different ways of resisting narrow expectations. Oh, and queerness. I liked that part too. This ties with the Olivia Ho story for my favorite.
Overall, a somewhat uneven collection. The cultural aspect of the theme was strong and consistent, even if the steampunk aspect occasionally faltered. The characters are delightfully diverse within the specified setting, particularly in terms of gender, sexuality, and disability. There were places where a stronger editorial hand would have been useful, but several of the stories shone out brightly. I particularly liked “Between Severed Souls” by Paolo Chikiamco, “Working Woman” by Olivia Ho, and “The Insects and Women Sing Together” by Pear Nuallak.