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384 pages, Paperback
First published March 9, 2017
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When they were rewarded with the child they’d previously been unable to have, they brought the clothes their infants wore in the first weeks of their lives and hung them on the branches of the tree in thanks. All this Qasim knew, though it was too dark to see anything but the outlines of branches – little torsos impaled on them, arms hanging limply. There was still no breeze.How We Remember You by Kuzhali Manickavel - 4/5★
The jinns could enter the realms of angels and hear them discussing the future, and bring back news to the fortune teller of what was yet to happen. […] Of course the angels didn’t like it when the jinn did this, and if they saw a jinn eavesdropping on them they would hurl a thunderbolt at the jinn – to human eyes, it looked like stars streaking across the skies.
We remember your magic. Maybe that is the obvious thing to remember about you. We never tell anyone about it, though, not even each other, because it is hard to talk about now that we are older. […] But mostly, whenever I remember you, I am sorry. I am sorry for what happened. I’m sorry for not opening the door. […]And I remember everything.Hurrem and the Djinn by Claire North - 4.5/5★
It’s not my place to gossip... Oh, go on, then, you forced it out of me!Glass Lights by JY Yang - 3/5★
Do you know the tapestry in the style of the Chinese dragon that hangs near the armoury of the second courtyard... yes, there, behind that, did you know there was a door? Ah – few do, but I heard it from... ... anyway, open that door of great, black wood, that makes not a sound as it slides across smooth stone, and descend down, down, down.
[...] these are mothers of Sultans yet to come – but of all their children, only one will be king. What mother would not protect her child? And so they play a game, these beautiful, graceful would-be-queens, with the savagery of the lioness protecting her cubs, and moonlight smiles.
All most people wish for is more, wishing forever until tongues are parched and hearts are tired of beating. Love is a kind of wish.
A creature! To think of it as such. A creature, if indeed that is what inhabits the box. Of smoke, or flesh? A demon, so many of the texts say. I am learning to read so many languages through the work of my translators, as the myth of this thing exists in cultures as far branching as the Orient, as the Arabics, as the Eskimo. Variations on a theme, maybe, but still; and all are agreed that these things are tricksters. Devils, manipulators. Far from human, and yet to read about them in the more famous tales, one would think them jovial. They are imprisoned. They are vengeful. I must play their game as well as they will play mine. I must – must – choose my words carefully.Reap by Sami Shah - 4.5/5★
Opinions are divided on this man. Some say he was the most evil man who ever lived. Others maintain that he was a saint, a visionary and the father of modern science. There’s an abundance of sound evidence and convincing arguments on both sides.Bring Your Own Spoon by Saad Hossein - 4.5/5★
They say he kept a demon in a bottle, who told him everything he wanted to know, but that’s just ignorance and superstition. Would it were that easy.
"Spite houses are buildings constructed or modified to antagonize neighbours or landowners, usually by blocking access or light."Emperors of Jinn by Usman Malik- 3/5★
"There is no evil here, only love. God save us from a world that can't tell the difference."The rest of the collection varied widely in the mood, setting, and in the vision of the djinn themselves.
"Great Horned OwlThis was not the only story to explore the theme of djinn as immigrant. "Somewhere in America" by Neil Gaiman is actually excerpted from American Gods, which I admit I wasn't thrilled about, but certainly fits the theme. Comically bitter and rather gruesome, it tells the tale of a disillusioned visitor who runs into a particularly peculiar taxi driver. "The Jinn Hunter's Apprentice" by E.J. Swift is an imaginative scifi story that takes place on a busy spaceport on Mars. A bunch of angry djinn, tired of having their once-peaceful world invaded, have invaded a ship and the captain calls in a djinn-hunter. In "The Spite House" by Kirsty Logan, djinns were made corporeal, badgered and threatened out of their homes by violent protesters bearing signs such as "NO SNAKES IN OUR NEIGHBOURHOOD", and forced to live on scraps in the outskirts of society.
You are an apex predator. Nothing can hurt you now.
You have embraced silence. [...]
Sparrows though. Crows. Cormorants. All these will fill your belly now, and it's their own fault. All their own fault for not choosing a shape the wizard-nation cannot hurt, their own fault for being small or loud or trying to build communities of which the wizard-nation disapproved. You have learned the wizard-nation's way, and you will be able to stay, now, forever."
"People always assume that poor people are dangerous. They wouldn't be here, if they were.""Emperors of Jinn" by Usman T. Malik is a brutal tale about a group of children and a magic book that mixes casual cruelty with human possession. "Authenticity" by Monica Byrne uses a film student's desire to get a romantic encounter between djinn and human on film to very directly plays with the theme of observers and voyeurism--not for me, and I'm not entirely sure I understood the story's goal. "The Glass Lights" by J.Y. Yang is a wistful vignette about a girl who sees herself as a passive observer, constantly pulled by the needs and desires of others and her own compulsion to reshape the world as her djinn ancestors once did. She feels out of place in the world, not because she is secretly part djinn but because she is Muslim:
"You don't giggle with a girl in a headscarf, who can't watch any of the Channel 8 K-dramas you follow because she doesn't speak Mandarin."
"Each person is a projectile filled with sharp voice and broken volume, blasts of maybe.
The hands outstretch, the hearts explode. The chamber is the world and all the bodies on earth press close around each bullet, holding it steady until, with a rotating spin, it flies."
Come, sit closer to the fire. That's better. See how the flames dance in your storyteller's eyes. Perhaps those flecks of orange, red and gold are merely reflections—but you must know that the eyes of djinn are also said to flicker in just this way. It makes no difference... whether we were created from quick fire or humble clay, all of us love stories. So come closer, and listen...