Speculative Fiction Junkie

Paolo Bacigalupi

Short stories really aren't my thing. It's not that I don't like them, it's just that in my experience it takes a lot more for a short story to be good than it does for a novel to be good. Furthermore, a lot--not all, but a lot--of the short stories that are published these days don't really seem to have a point: they don't make us think and they don't show us anything particularly imaginative. And while speculative fiction can serve other ends, these two things--the stimulation of the intellect and the imagination--are two of the things that speculative fiction is uniquely well qualified to deliver and are the main reasons why I enjoy reading works in the genre.

The only reason I even picked up Pump Six was because its stories reputedly had a post-apocalyptic flavor. This subgenre is one of my personal favorites and after learning of others' high opinion of Mr. Bacigalupi's writing, I decided to give this collection a shot.

The book consists of ten short stories, nine of which were previously published in various periodicals, as well as a previously unpublished story ("Pump Six"). Night Shade Books, the publisher, also released a limited edition of this book which contains an eleventh story ("Small Offerings") and which is signed by Mr. Bacigalupi.

Consistent with my expectations, most of the stories in Pump Six have a post-apocalyptic feel, although the apocalypse is usually not a single overwhelming event but rather the slowly manifested consequences of the decisions we've made as a species and the way we live. Several of them are about shortages of resources. "The Tamarisk Hunter," for example, takes place in a western United States with a severe water shortage; "The Calorie Man" occurs in a world in which food staples have been devastated by a weevil. In "Pop Squad," technology has given people the ability to live forever essentially, resulting in overpopulation and a consequent cheapening of new lives. Other stories deal with issues of a more social nature. The best example is "The Fluted Girl," a story of social stratification in which a pair of girls are literally turned into instruments for their masters' entertainment. Another is "Pump Six," in which people have become progressively dumber and so when one of the city's sewage pumps breaks there is no one left who knows how to fix it.

All of the stories are well written but some are better than others. My least favorites were "The Pasho" and "Softer." Frankly, "Softer," a story about a man who kills his wife for no reason and then feels liberated, seemed completely at odds with the rest of the collection.

One of the best stories in Pump Six is "The Calorie Man," a story that takes place along the Mississippi in a future in which world food supplies have been decimated by a genetically altered weevil unleashed on the world. As a result, the entire world is obsessed with calories and energy. Intellectual Property police constantly scour trade routes making sure that merchants haven't violated company monopolies by failing to attach the requisite stamps to their cargo. Against this backdrop, the story's protagonist, Lalji, must undertake a dangerous mission to smuggle a man who has learned how to make weevil-resistant crops out of harm's way.

However, far and away the best story in this collection in my opinion is "The People of Sand and Slag" (you can read it in its entirety here). In this story, the physical limitations of being human have been overcome: breaking a bone or losing a limb is no big deal and activities such as eating normal food and having to use the bathroom are no longer necessary. The result is people like the three individuals in charge of security at a desolate mine. They enjoy gaming, blowing things up, copulating, and generally display a cavalier attitude towards everything. The story begins with them discovering an intruder who turns out to be a dog. The three take the dog in and are bewildered by its vulnerabilities:

Lisa frowned thoughtfully. “It doesn’t heal.” She climbed awkwardly to her feet and went to peer into the cage. Her voice was excited. “It really is a dog. Just like we used to be. It could take weeks for it to heal. One broken bone, and it’s done for.”

She reached a razored hand into the cage and sliced a thin wound into its shank. Blood oozed out, and kept oozing. It took minutes for it to begin clotting. The dog lay still and panted, clearly wasted.

She laughed. “It’s hard to believe we ever lived long enough to evolve out of that. If you chop off its legs, they won’t regrow.” She cocked her head, fascinated. “It’s as delicate as rock. You break it, and it never comes back together.” She reached out to stroke the matted fur of the animal. “It’s as easy to kill as the hunter.”

"The People of Sand and Slag" thus becomes a story about what happens when the invulnerable security team has to decide what to do with the vulnerable dog. Mr. Bacigalupi masterfully handles this juxtaposition, simultaneously showing us our vulnerabilities as living beings and the great responsibility we bear. This, in my opinion, became one of the unifying themes of the collection, and Mr. Bacigalupi's greatest achievement. Most post-apocalyptic stories attempt to warn us of the consequences of our actions by showing us a particular view of the future, and Pump Six is no exception in this regard. Mr. Bacigalupi, however, takes the additional step of going out of his way to vividly portray the lives of the people and animals that will inhabit this future. Here's another example from "The Calorie Man":

A half-dozen hyper-developed mulies crouched on their treadmills, their rib cages billowing slowly, their flanks streaked with salt lines of sweat residue from the labor of winding Lalji’s boat springs. They blew air through their nostrils, nervous at Lalji’s sudden scent, and gathered their squat legs under them. Muscles like boulders rippled under their bony hides as they stood. They eyed Lalji with resentful near-intelligence. One of them showed stubborn yellow teeth that matched its owner’s.

Lalji made a face of disgust. “Feed them.”

“I already did.”

“I can see their bones. If you want my money, feed them again.”

The man scowled. “They aren’t supposed to get fat, they’re supposed to wind your damn springs.” But he dipped double handfuls of SoyPRO into their feed canisters.

The mulies shoved their heads into the buckets, slobbering and grunting with need. In its eagerness, one of them started briefly forward on its treadmill, sending energy into the winding shop’s depleted storage springs before seeming to realize that its work was not demanded and that it could eat without molestation.

The dog and its invulnerable keepers; the mullies and their owner; the fluted girls and their master. Time and again, Bacigalupi juxtaposes the suffering of an animal or a human being with the irresponsibility of those responsible. The result, as already stated, is that these stories saliently impress upon the reader a sense of the responsibility we all bear toward each other and the world. I have no doubt that several of these stories will haunt me forever.

Rating: 10/10

The True First

Pump Six was originally published by Night Shade Books in February of 2008. The limited edition was published simultaneously with the trade edition and so both are true firsts, but the limited edition is the highest state true first. I believe that there are still a few limited edition copies available and both editions can be ordered from Night Shade Books. Frankly, if I had $50 to spare, I would order the limited edition right away. Hopefully, Mr. Bacigalupi will make it out to the East Coast at some point so I can get my trade edition signed!

[This review was not based on a review copy]