In Clelia Farris' mind-bending tales, you'll find captivating characters with elusive identities like Kieser, who longs to transform himself through horrific procedures in "Creative Surgery," or Yuliano (“Secret Enemy”), a man with no aesthetic taste, or Gabola, engaged in the battle of a lifetime against the expropriation of the Little Tuvu Hill. With dry and polished prose, like the stones of her native Sardinia, Clelia Farris takes us on adventures among the ruins of a future marred by climate change ("A Day to Remember") and in a haunting prison inhabited by the enigmatic figure of "Rebecca." Collected and translated into English for the first time, these seven stories represent some of the greatest works from one of Italy's best science fiction authors.
Wow! This was a fantastic ride through the work of a creative mind at the tops of short fiction authors. It certainly is 4.5 stars, and I will perhaps round up to 5 stars on one of my re-reads (and there will be several), once I better get the stories. Clelia Farris not only writes weird, speculative (and sometimes stomach turning) fiction, her bold approach at the real and unreal leaves the reader constantly struggling with and re-thinking what they are reading. This is Science Fiction how I want it to be - mind bending and demanding. I'm fascinated by this author and grateful for the translators to have brought her words into a language I can read. Translating these challenging tales must have been a journey on its own.
Highly recommended for readers who look for the non-conform, the weird in science fiction.
A puzzling little collection. Weird. Dense. Profound? Brilliant ideas on display, each one fascinating enough in its own right, each world polished and distinct. Massive variety packed into a tiny book.
Some stories are more refined than others. Some sorely lack signposting; they lack what Neil Gaiman refers to as "silly hats": distinguishing characteristics that prevent your important characters from being lost. I kept finding myself flicking back-and-forward a few pages to remember who was who. And on top of that, there is a lot in the subtext that requires scrutiny in order to simply understand what's going on from one page to the next. Far more 'literary' than your average Sci-Fi.
I've made some comments on the individual stories in my book group here -- all welcome to join the discussion :)
In summary: absolutely worth picking up, but a deceptively difficult read that demands your full attention. I hope that more of Farris' work gets translated into English in the future!
Chi non vorrebbe un tartagatto, adorabile come un gattino, resistente grazie al carapace, e perfettamente vegetariano? Chi non vorrebbe invece sfoggiare un pinscher "da borsa", con la massiccia testa, però, di un bel rottweiler? E magari le zampette girate al contrario, perché nel senso normale sono troppo "mainstream"? Nella società futura immaginata da Clelia Farris nel suo nuovo ambizioso racconto, Chirurgia creativa, ad alzare la mano sarebbero parecchi: ecco le nuove frontiere del piacere del brutto. A guardare la copertina ci si fa già un'idea del contenuto abbastanza particolare: il sorridente cane imbellettato rimanda a un pastiche vittoriano steampunk che fa da cornice a un racconto che scardina i confini tra i generi, muovendosi tra fantascienza futuristica, horror, e quella fantascienza surreale tra Dick e Ballard. Centro focale del racconto è la riflessione estetica, i cui canoni tradizionali si presentano stravolti da una società del futuro disumanizzata. Emblema di questa opera disumanizzante è l'uso, anzi l'abuso degli animali, che da vivi si ritrovano ad essere accessorio grottesco dell'esibizione del sé, mentre da morti, smembrati, sono oggetto di lite tra gli studenti di medicina, che affollano fino a far scoppiare gli atenei, e gli artisti della cosiddetta "chirurgia creativa", ovvero l'arte di creare ibridi viventi.
Il racconto si apre subito con l'incontro tra il protagonista, un "saldatore", dalle talentuose e fatate dita capaci di saldare all'istante parti organiche e inorganiche, e la conturbante Vi, l'artista sciatta e diffidente che si affida al talento professionale del protagonista per dare vita alle sue creazioni. La trama si presenta ridotta a fronte della effettiva dimensione del racconto (e questo forse è la sola debolezza che si potrebbe imputare), e si compone per lo più del lavoro congiunto dei due personaggi, che mettono insieme animali, metalli e persino un feto, su richiesta di esigenti e stravaganti clienti; il grosso del racconto è costituito invece delle riflessioni di Kieser, il protagonista, attraverso le quali l'autrice, con vivide e grosse pennellate stilistiche, restituisce la sua visionarissima e al contempo lucidissima visione del futuro. A dispetto della esile trama, dunque, la portata riflessiva è notevole, e l'abbondanza di temi rielaborati è pari alla notevole sostanza stilistica. In Chirurgia creativa trova dunque posto una riflessione estetica che si salda a un percorso di redifinizione di sé: in una società anestetizzata da canoni di bellezza perfetta, resa possibile dai progressi tecnologici, Vi insiste a manifestare i segni dell'età; allo stesso modo, Kieser non trova migliore espressione della propria identità che nel distinguersi violentamente dall'altro, dalla massa. C'è poi un vivace contorno che anima lo sfondo di questo racconto, a cominciare da quegli atenei affollati in cui gli studenti lottano per accaparrarsi un pezzo animale da studiare, in cui solo i più ricchi e fortunati possono permettersi il lusso di assistere di presenza alle lezioni dei facoltosi docenti, mentre gli altri, lasciati fuori da aule sature, devono accontentarsi di acquistare videoregistrazioni. C'è anche la crisi delle religioni, che passa attraverso una parodica rievocazione delle superstizioni più elementari, come la nuova chiesa che osanna la dea Fortuna, di cui Vi è attenta e speranzosa seguace. Un mondo ricco di immagini prende dunque vita da questo racconto, come un caleidoscopio che mette insieme le più disparate suggestioni. Tutto ciò non manca di essere ben sostenuto da un adeguato comparto stilistico: e quasi stupisce riscontrare una così bella scrittura che si sofferma, con vero gusto del grottesco, sulle operazioni di chirurgia creativa, e con alle spalle anche un'evidente conoscenza scientifica (in campo di anatomia, ma anche di chimica, etc). Una grande scrittura dunque per un "piccolo" racconto che stupisce dalla prima pagina fino alla fine.
Every other sentence in this collection forced me to reassess my assumption of what was happening in these stories, and what they were about. By the end I had to accept that I basically have no idea, but they were super weird, kind of creepy, and awesome fun.
I am so glad to have accidentally stumbled to this phenomenal short story collection. Each story offers something new to savor, new to experience and a different take on a very old trope. Explaining what each story is tough and a spoiler in itself because the setting itself is a thrill to go through. Briefly, there is a story about a woman who lives in a world that's severely damaged by climate change. Having lived in a "before" world, through her eyes we see the "after" and the adaptation process. The titular story is probably mildly overwhelming with themes of biohacking, body modifications which aren't all that alienating anymore. A collection that is quite eclectic and a quick read through is definitely a must for SFF fans.
Last night I started reading a new ~250 page novel. Even with Food Network on in the background, I plowed through and enjoyed half of it with no challenge. It's conventional literature with a contemporary setting, straight-forward plot, and an unadorned, conversational voice. What a drastic shift from what I just read prior. Creative Surgery by Clelia Farris may be a slim volume, but the collection of seven short stories packs a density and intensity that demands vigilant attention and careful reading. But, that requirement for focus will be greatly rewarded: with profound and provocative insights into her characters, wonderment at the speculatively imaginative worlds she paints, and dazzlement at the literary finesse she employs to accomplish it all.
The title Creative Surgery comes from the final tale printed in this collection (reflected in the cover art), but it can also be taken to apply to what Farris does with genre literature through her writing. She does not settle for one speculative item to focus on, but creates multiple layers of details to combine into one adhesive whole. The opening story of the collection "A Day to Remember" illustrates this in ways better than any generalized attempt could: The story is set in climate change dystopia, where floods have inundated a city and created a patchwork of humanity separated on small makeshift islands of detritus or remnants of buildings still high enough for now to clear the water's reach. Grafted to this setting is the protagonist Olì, a woman who is an artist with the technology to work on the personal canvas of memory. But she also uses other media for more public display of her art. Already enough in theory to feature in a short story. But not for Farris. Albeit a short story on the longer novelette size, she is able to put a ton more into this one tale: water-bound marauders geared up like sharks, family strifes, class divisions, experimental cooking recipes (cakes with candied clams in the middle - yum!), food-based bartering systems, deadly shifts in temperatures from the climate crisis, orphaned children... Where one might expect these disparate bits to clash like a cat's head on a tortoise, Farris somehow makes it - the weird absurdities of it all - seem completely natural, surgically placed together into a brief work of literature delving into the theme of human commitments to one another, and the memories we choose to keep or lose of those connections.
Each story within the collection needs to be approached completely anew, readers need to get their bearings on what kind of world they now find themselves thrust into. At times, the answer to this is not fully clear, perhaps, until the end has been reached, meaning that several of the stories benefit from rereading and thought based on the first impressions. There are some small flourishes that Farris returns to within each story to give the reader some soupçon of familiarity, often humorous eccentricities of character's personalities. One of these is mention of food that the character's mentioning enjoying (or using as currency), particularly fish and shellfish; not a surprise given Farris' native Sardinia. Another is misanthropic secondary characters that complain about their no good, bastard, cheat relatives, business partners, or neighbors. The de Sade company shows up mentioned in at least two stories. Though really small details, they nonetheless serve to help anchor the reading experience as something unified between the seven very unique stories. "Gabola" features a man of that name, who specializes in recreating objects from the ruins of the hills where he lives on the edge of the city. The antiquity thieves that end up unwittingly taking his relatively worthless recreations don't care for that much. But, what is most concerning for Gabola is that plunder is the only attention that the ruins, and the priceless history contained within them are getting from the community at large. Now, plans to raze the ruins to make room for new buildings are proposed, with only Gabola seeming to care to prevent it. The name Gabola is also a slang term, that from context one gathers means something worthless - junk. Both what Gabola produces, and what he himself represents in the eyes of others that look to progress and not the past. Like the protagonist of the previous story, and many others in this collection, Gabola exists as an outsider, doing his own thing.
Of all the stories, "Gabola", is perhaps the most difficult to first get one's bearings. It begins with a third-person passage from the point of view of a thief, and then introduces Gabola in the third person before abruptly switching to first-person. Thereafter first- and third-person portions appear, with occasional second-person declarations from Gabola. It makes for jarring transitions, but I can imagine how this is symbolically consistent with the theme of the story that contrasts Gabola's point of view of the ruins and history with that of his contemporaries. As much as I found the story interesting, I did feel this one could have been abbreviated while achieving the same impact.
"Secret Enemy" and "Rebecca" both feature characters who are kept prisoner in one way or another. The first of these is the one story I want to go back and read again, as I'm still trying to make sense of it all. In it, a man is kept behind a bathroom mirror (in another room?) to serve as a sort of physician/nutritionist for his captor. Through first person narration he details the interactions with his captor, observations of guests to the house, and the Japanese flower art arrangements he does to pass time. Despite being a prisoner, he comes to realize (and act upon) the power he has over his captor's health. Whether this man is actually a separate entity or a part of the captor I am still uncertain of, and there are worlds of analysis that still could be done with the brief story.
"Rebecca" is one of my favorite selections from the collection - probably along with the first one "A Day to Remember". I love the Du Maurier novel, and the Hitchcock adaptation. that form the inspiration for this tale. But I adore Farris' story not just for drawing from those classics, but making a fabulous story from the characters and themes of Rebecca that works in its own speculative right. This is one where the progression of it - and its ending - really reveal the clever idea behind it all, so I don't want to spoil that. But it again involves that 'creative literary' surgery of Farris': physics and feminism stitched onto the gothic framework.
Each of the proceeding stories mentioned, along with "Holes" and "The Substance of Ideas", are translated for this collection from the Italian by Rachel Cordasco. I don't know Italian to be able to technically comment on the translation details, but the English presented here flows beautifully, even with those jarring moments of shifting voice or perspective in some of Farris' more complex writing. I should also mention that Rachel is a dear colleague and friend whose Speculative Fiction in Translation site I contribute to. So I probably am biased. Nonetheless, I'll be honest and say that my one critique with this is that I'd wish for footnotes explaining more about certain passages or translations. "Gabola" is one example that could have benefited. On the other hand, I imagine some readers might find footnotes obtrusively annoying.
I already reviewed both "Holes" and "The Substance of Ideas" on Speculative Fiction in Translation when they were published in short fiction outlets last year. If interested, you could click to read those reviews there and find links to the stories. A new read through them actually led to new insights and appreciations of the stories, again verifying just how well these stories hold up to multiple reads.
Jennifer Delare translated the final story of the collection, the eponymous "Creative Surgery" features a pair of outsider artist-type characters: in this case a creator of animal hybrids or chimeras who can cut, and her assistant, who can join. The story stands apart as going from the speculative edge toward horror, like the Mary Shelley story it uses at least in part as inspiration. It is used though to examine the central themes that pervade several of Farris' other stories: human interactions and creations of beauty even amid exploitation.
The blurb quote on the cover of Creative Surgery by Cat Rambo is very apt. Firstly in the adjectives she uses to describe the writing. But also apt in that it's Rambo providing it. The complex, detailed speculative creativity and style of Farris and the voice of her characters actually does remind me of what I've read from Rambo. Worlds seeming so bizarre, yet wholly believable. Creative Surgery has already gotten great reviews from Publisher's Weekly, Strange Horizons, and Locus Magazine as well. My voice may not ring as far as those get, but if you happen to hear it, do give this a look. It deserves attention from the SF genre world, as well as any who appreciate literary short fiction in general.
These stories are extraordinarily imaginative, weird and poignant. If J.G. Ballard were a 21st century Italian, his output might resemble this, if he took more psychedelics. Bonus is the exquisite English prose from the translators. Don't ask me to pick a favorite story, but there is one that a lot of people outside the SFT community would really love, and that's "Rebecca", which is indeed a bizarre and entertaining take on the Dumarier classic. All the stars, including those in the sea.
La penna della Farris è affilata e precisa come il bisturi di Victoire: in poche pagine riesce a dare vita ad un micro-cosmo dei cui principi e paradossi si fa beffe a più riprese. Un inno sull'essere anti-convenzionali nell'apparire e nell'essere, sull'essere se stessi, senza farsi condizionare da ciò che è di moda o accettato dalla società.
The seven stories in Creative Surgery are equally inventive and compelling in ways that touch on themes of identity and the literal construction of reality. Many of the characters are artists of one kind or another, and each one plays with ideas of deception and artifice, sometimes to achieve good, sometimes to serve selfish interests, sometimes to follow passions determined by forces that are little understood.
These are powerful stories that bring to mind the worlds of Gibson and Vandermeer and Bruno Schulz but with a unique twist that only Clelia Farris has mastered. The language of this book alone is a marvel, thanks to the brilliant translators, Rachel Cordasco and Jennifer DeLare, as well as the original genius of the author. I’ll keep an eye out for more of her work to appear in English.
Crank up a good Black Mirror episode to 11… no, 12. Actually, crank it up to 42-ish, give it some crystal meth and a nice acetic acid bath, then bombard it with ionizing radiation, and you’d have this collection of short stories.
Some will require you to read back a few pages, if not the entire story. Some are not quite as cohesive as you’d like. Some do not have any narrative signposts, and as a result will confuse you, until you’ve read through it enough.
But the stories are intriguing, oozing originally, disturbing, downright horrifying in some cases, and will leave you thoughtful, or disgusted, afterwards.
The last story (titular) was especially clever! Brilliant author is brilliant!
I'll round this one up as I expect some of my concern is simply prose lost in translation. But the stories themselves? Fascinating, odd, unique and so unlike anything I've read elsewhere in a long time. A mix of biopunk and a little scifi or fantasy, hard to categorize at times, in truth. If you're looking for something very different to read, this story collection is a great start.
The stories preceding the main one were a bit confusing for me, but I will say that “Creative Surgery” is a stand out short story by itself. I was both disgusted and fascinated by it.
Alguns dels relats són francament bons. Tenen finals colpidors, però alhora subtils. El cop d'efecte final serveix, més que com una sorpresa, com un gir del sentit del relat, com si tot el llegit de sobte es pogués llegir d'una altra manera. La forma com Farris toca temes com els de la memòria sensual, el pas del temps o la identitat és intel·ligent, tot i que a voltes una mica maldestra. Però en llegir-la, és evident la feina que ha fet Farris per provar d'espolsar-se els clixés i la mandra de sobre. En alguns casos, l'al·legoria resulta massa evident i forçada. En els millors contes, però, topem amb una imatgeria i una sensualitat estranyes i fascinadores. Quan la idea general que es planteja Farris en els millors contes arriba a bon port, la sensació és la d'estar llegint una autora que sap fer-te entrar al joc. Un joc que val la pena.
Un mondo ricco di immagini prende dunque vita da questo racconto, come un caleidoscopio che mette insieme le più disparate suggestioni. Tutto ciò non manca di essere ben sostenuto da un adeguato comparto stilistico: e quasi stupisce riscontrare una così bella scrittura che si sofferma, con vero gusto del grottesco, sulle operazioni di chirurgia creativa, e con alle spalle anche un'evidente conoscenza scientifica (in campo di anatomia, ma anche di chimica, etc). Una grande scrittura dunque per un "piccolo" racconto che stupisce dalla prima pagina fino alla fine.
Ci ho messo del tempo per metabolizzare il mondo distorto e disturbante presentato da Clelia Farris in questa storia. Poi questo mondo, che di primo acchito mi aveva allontanato con disgusto, mi ha attirato a sé apparendomi come una visione di Tim Burton proiettata nel futuro, contaminata dal gusto di Tarantino. E adesso sto passando in rassegna, in un immaginario casting mentale, i possibili volti da associare ai due protagonisti (Cristina Ricci e Johnny Depp sono in pole position). Clelia Farris ha una personalità nella scrittura che avvince, e che lascia la curiosità di leggere altro di lei.
Rilettura dopo dieci anni. Devo ammettere che in questa opera mi è uscito il fascino dell'orrido. Non per la scrittura, l'autrice brava come sempre, ma per la storia. Consigliato se vi piacciono le storie alla Frankenstein.