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Danged Black Thing
'Eugen Bacon gives us a cornucopia of dark fruitfulness. Her writing is equal parts fecund earth and fine-cut jewels; her stories juxtapose the scarred and abused with the powerfully magical, the numinous and the deceptively mundane. They travel the known world, remaking all its parts as they go, and they pull new worlds, fully formed, from Bacon’s unfettered imagination.’ MARGO LANAGAN
Danged Black Thing is an extraordinary collection of stories about love and migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood, from a remarkable and original voice. Traversing the West and Africa, they celebrate the author’s own hybridity with breathtaking sensuousness and lyricism.
Simbiyu wins a scholarship to study in Australia, but cannot leave behind a world of walking barefoot, orange sun and his longing for a ‘once pillow-soft mother’. In his past, a darkness rose from the river, and something nameless and mystical continues to envelop his life. In ‘A Taste of Unguja’ sweet taarab music, full of want, seeps into a mother’s life on the streets of Melbourne as she evokes the powers of her ancestors to seek vengeance on her cursed ex. In the cyberfunk of ‘Unlimited Data’ Natukunda, a village woman, gives her all for her family in Old Kampala. Other stories explore with power what happens when the water runs dry – and who pays, capture the devastating effects on women and children of societies in which men hold all the power, and themes of being, belonging, otherness.
Speculative, realistic and even mythological, but always imbued with truth, empathy and Blackness, Danged Black Thing is a literary knockout.
‘Eugen Bacon is an exhilarating writer. Her work is daring, fierce, visceral and sensual, fast paced and packed with action, earthed yet given to flights of fancy. It is driven by empathy for the eccentric and marginalised, a simmering anger at injustice and inequality, and a deep concern for the big questions — the scorching impact of climate change, the sharp double-edged sword of fast-changing technology, the destructive mania of dictators, and the immigrants’ deep pain at separation and ache at leaving the homeland. A true original who glories in language and gives uncompromising reign to the imagination.’
- ARNOLD ZABLE, writer, novelist, and human rights activist.
‘Reading the stories in Danged Black Thing is an immersive experience. Eugen Bacon plunges the reader into worlds beguiling and unsettling, where humans are milked for their fluids, boundaries between technology and bodies are blurred, and aliens fall from the sky. To try to corral the stories into categories is a fool’s errand: they are genre fluid—provocative, mind-blowing, at times heart-breaking. Offering a heady mix of longing, loss, violence, sex and humour, the narratives unfold mostly through the eyes of black women and children. There is a sense of urgency in these voices as they struggle—and demand—to be heeded. The writing is bold, sensual, breath-takingly good. Bacon achieves the perfect tension between compelling narratives that you want to race to read, and language that demands you stop and linger. Consider this from ‘A Pod of Mermaids’: ‘Grief was all capsizing, all weighted down, right where there was a saving log.’ Bacon writes sentences you can taste, turn over in your mouth and devour, savouring the umami bite of her prose. Though reluctant to play favourites, the all-too-credible dystopia of ‘The Water Runner’ scared and moved me, while the sadness of ‘The Failing Name’, written in collaboration with Seb Doubinksy, is as palpable as the ripe mango that the narrator, Jolainne, turns into a tool of justice.’
- ANGELA SAVAGE – award-winning author of Mother of Pearl, Behind the Night Bazaar and The Dying Beach.
Danged Black Thing is an extraordinary collection of stories about love and migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood, from a remarkable and original voice. Traversing the West and Africa, they celebrate the author’s own hybridity with breathtaking sensuousness and lyricism.
Simbiyu wins a scholarship to study in Australia, but cannot leave behind a world of walking barefoot, orange sun and his longing for a ‘once pillow-soft mother’. In his past, a darkness rose from the river, and something nameless and mystical continues to envelop his life. In ‘A Taste of Unguja’ sweet taarab music, full of want, seeps into a mother’s life on the streets of Melbourne as she evokes the powers of her ancestors to seek vengeance on her cursed ex. In the cyberfunk of ‘Unlimited Data’ Natukunda, a village woman, gives her all for her family in Old Kampala. Other stories explore with power what happens when the water runs dry – and who pays, capture the devastating effects on women and children of societies in which men hold all the power, and themes of being, belonging, otherness.
Speculative, realistic and even mythological, but always imbued with truth, empathy and Blackness, Danged Black Thing is a literary knockout.
‘Eugen Bacon is an exhilarating writer. Her work is daring, fierce, visceral and sensual, fast paced and packed with action, earthed yet given to flights of fancy. It is driven by empathy for the eccentric and marginalised, a simmering anger at injustice and inequality, and a deep concern for the big questions — the scorching impact of climate change, the sharp double-edged sword of fast-changing technology, the destructive mania of dictators, and the immigrants’ deep pain at separation and ache at leaving the homeland. A true original who glories in language and gives uncompromising reign to the imagination.’
- ARNOLD ZABLE, writer, novelist, and human rights activist.
‘Reading the stories in Danged Black Thing is an immersive experience. Eugen Bacon plunges the reader into worlds beguiling and unsettling, where humans are milked for their fluids, boundaries between technology and bodies are blurred, and aliens fall from the sky. To try to corral the stories into categories is a fool’s errand: they are genre fluid—provocative, mind-blowing, at times heart-breaking. Offering a heady mix of longing, loss, violence, sex and humour, the narratives unfold mostly through the eyes of black women and children. There is a sense of urgency in these voices as they struggle—and demand—to be heeded. The writing is bold, sensual, breath-takingly good. Bacon achieves the perfect tension between compelling narratives that you want to race to read, and language that demands you stop and linger. Consider this from ‘A Pod of Mermaids’: ‘Grief was all capsizing, all weighted down, right where there was a saving log.’ Bacon writes sentences you can taste, turn over in your mouth and devour, savouring the umami bite of her prose. Though reluctant to play favourites, the all-too-credible dystopia of ‘The Water Runner’ scared and moved me, while the sadness of ‘The Failing Name’, written in collaboration with Seb Doubinksy, is as palpable as the ripe mango that the narrator, Jolainne, turns into a tool of justice.’
- ANGELA SAVAGE – award-winning author of Mother of Pearl, Behind the Night Bazaar and The Dying Beach.
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First published November 1, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
May 18, 2023
Wow, Eugene Bacon can write. And she does so with a one-of-a-kind style that I think would be instantly recognizable among a collection of different authors' works. While I think some of the stories in this particular collection were beyond me, I thoroughly enjoyed the language of each of them and the atmosphere they conjured up (and especially the way Eugene Bacon doesn't ever spell anything out for you—it's up to you to take away your own interpretation).
In Danged Black Thing are seventeen short stories, each set in different time periods and sometimes even different genres. Sometimes the protagonist is borrowed from Greek myth, sometimes from actual history, and sometimes from the future. The stories seem to be linked only by the gorgeous prose, which can be dense and opaque, almost hard to understand. Reading this collection worked best for me in small amounts; it became fairly exhausting and difficult trying to "binge" them, so to say. It's definitely not your average "winding-down" reading. There's a lot of thought involved.
Some standouts were "The Water Runner," "When the Water Stops," "Still She Visits," and "De Turtle O Hades," purely subjective, because a few of the references went over my head (for example, the first story has something to do with Lovecraft—I know it does, but that's all I can recognize) and because it's difficult for me to judge the craft of a style so unique that it bends the meaning and usage of words. It makes for an interesting, almost viscous experience, but one that's hard to judge.
I found the characters in these stories fascinating as well, because they were all so flawed (and sometimes outright horrible). Within these works, we have complex ideas like a man embracing the monster inside, a woman unable to confront her infatuation with white Englishmen (and her contempt for her own people), and an immigrant visited by the ghost of her sister and haunted by the abuse that only she escaped.
I can honestly say I've never encountered a writer quite like this one, and although I don't think I would pick up a novel-length work from her, I'll definitely keep an eye out for more of her short stories. A huge thank you to NetGalley and Apex Book Company for letting me read a copy of this book!
In Danged Black Thing are seventeen short stories, each set in different time periods and sometimes even different genres. Sometimes the protagonist is borrowed from Greek myth, sometimes from actual history, and sometimes from the future. The stories seem to be linked only by the gorgeous prose, which can be dense and opaque, almost hard to understand. Reading this collection worked best for me in small amounts; it became fairly exhausting and difficult trying to "binge" them, so to say. It's definitely not your average "winding-down" reading. There's a lot of thought involved.
Some standouts were "The Water Runner," "When the Water Stops," "Still She Visits," and "De Turtle O Hades," purely subjective, because a few of the references went over my head (for example, the first story has something to do with Lovecraft—I know it does, but that's all I can recognize) and because it's difficult for me to judge the craft of a style so unique that it bends the meaning and usage of words. It makes for an interesting, almost viscous experience, but one that's hard to judge.
I found the characters in these stories fascinating as well, because they were all so flawed (and sometimes outright horrible). Within these works, we have complex ideas like a man embracing the monster inside, a woman unable to confront her infatuation with white Englishmen (and her contempt for her own people), and an immigrant visited by the ghost of her sister and haunted by the abuse that only she escaped.
I can honestly say I've never encountered a writer quite like this one, and although I don't think I would pick up a novel-length work from her, I'll definitely keep an eye out for more of her short stories. A huge thank you to NetGalley and Apex Book Company for letting me read a copy of this book!
November 8, 2021
First up a disclaimer: I've collaborated with Eugen on one of the stories in this collection, "Messier 94".
Bacon writes fluid slippy prose with indefinable angles. Her stories alternate tangible/intangible glimpses per sentence, swift brushstrokes of characterisation met with poetic one-liners that set a scene or a mood. Reading these stories is like living them, memories become yours, half-truths beget questions. There is often the sense of something greater at the edges that doesn't need to be explained.
Of the seventeen stories here, "Rain Doesn't Fall On One Roof" is possibly my favourite. A simple story of an overburdened mother trying to do the best for her son, struck with financial problems, yet finding through family memories the opportunity to pull through. It's an affecting story and relatable, and as with many others in this collection it touches on the individual myths we create for ourselves, inside a maelstrom of wider experience. Everything is interlinked. Bacon seems to be saying we are part of a whole that cannot be ignored. This collection is well worth your time.
Bacon writes fluid slippy prose with indefinable angles. Her stories alternate tangible/intangible glimpses per sentence, swift brushstrokes of characterisation met with poetic one-liners that set a scene or a mood. Reading these stories is like living them, memories become yours, half-truths beget questions. There is often the sense of something greater at the edges that doesn't need to be explained.
Of the seventeen stories here, "Rain Doesn't Fall On One Roof" is possibly my favourite. A simple story of an overburdened mother trying to do the best for her son, struck with financial problems, yet finding through family memories the opportunity to pull through. It's an affecting story and relatable, and as with many others in this collection it touches on the individual myths we create for ourselves, inside a maelstrom of wider experience. Everything is interlinked. Bacon seems to be saying we are part of a whole that cannot be ignored. This collection is well worth your time.
November 2, 2021
The seventeen delightfully eclectic short stories in this collection explore themes which include love, motherhood, childhood, domestic violence, loss, grief, longing, abandonment, migration, alienation, displacement, gender, class, patriarchy, abuse of power, injustice, inequality, climate change, the influence of modern technology … and more! They move between continents and different cultures and between past, present and future; some are set in immediately recognisable worlds, others in worlds which are speculatively dystopian but which are, nevertheless, disturbingly familiar. They embrace mythology and ancestral traditions, science fiction, the supernatural, horror and tragedy. Some are chilling, some disturbing, some poignant, some erotic, some sensuous, some delightfully playful and humorous, with many of the stories interweaving a number of these elements. Four were written collaboratively with other authors (one with Seb Doubinsky, one with Andrew Hook and two with E. Don Harpe) and for me, the fact that each of those stories felt entirely congruent with the others in the collection, reflected the success of those collaborations. I can only imagine the level of trust and respect which must be necessary to achieve this level of harmony but I feel in awe of the generosity of spirit it must involve.
I first became aware of Eugen Bacon’s enthralling and thought-provoking writing when I read Claiming T-Mo (her debut novel) a couple of years ago. Since that memorable story I’ve always eagerly anticipated reading anything new from her, confident that the power of her storytelling will immerse me in the vibrant, imaginative characters and worlds that, with her eloquent and passionate use of language, she is so supremely skilled at creating. This latest collection of her stories has more than fulfilled my expectations because, from first to last, I found myself totally immersed in each one, savouring how, even in the shortest, the distinctive voices and narratives combined to offer multi-layered perspectives. Such is the power of the evocative richness of her character portrayals and scene-setting that when I reached the end of each story I experienced a sense of dislocation, a momentary difficulty in emerging to the reality of the world of my sitting room!
These stories may be short but I found each one so keenly observed and vividly portrayed that I needed not only to linger with the characters, but also to allow myself time to reflect on my thoughts and feelings about the questions raised by some of the challenging themes contained in the stories. I think the extent to which I felt so completely engaged is a tribute to the combination of passion and empathetic understanding which underpins the author’s writing, whether she’s telling a tender story about love, shining a spotlight on prejudice, inequality and marginalisation, or using her stories to explore the impact of climate change or political corruption. This is a remarkable collection of truly memorable stories which I recommend without reservation … but with a suggestion that you should take your time when reading them!
I first became aware of Eugen Bacon’s enthralling and thought-provoking writing when I read Claiming T-Mo (her debut novel) a couple of years ago. Since that memorable story I’ve always eagerly anticipated reading anything new from her, confident that the power of her storytelling will immerse me in the vibrant, imaginative characters and worlds that, with her eloquent and passionate use of language, she is so supremely skilled at creating. This latest collection of her stories has more than fulfilled my expectations because, from first to last, I found myself totally immersed in each one, savouring how, even in the shortest, the distinctive voices and narratives combined to offer multi-layered perspectives. Such is the power of the evocative richness of her character portrayals and scene-setting that when I reached the end of each story I experienced a sense of dislocation, a momentary difficulty in emerging to the reality of the world of my sitting room!
These stories may be short but I found each one so keenly observed and vividly portrayed that I needed not only to linger with the characters, but also to allow myself time to reflect on my thoughts and feelings about the questions raised by some of the challenging themes contained in the stories. I think the extent to which I felt so completely engaged is a tribute to the combination of passion and empathetic understanding which underpins the author’s writing, whether she’s telling a tender story about love, shining a spotlight on prejudice, inequality and marginalisation, or using her stories to explore the impact of climate change or political corruption. This is a remarkable collection of truly memorable stories which I recommend without reservation … but with a suggestion that you should take your time when reading them!
August 19, 2021
Eugen Bacon is an exceptional writer and I was honoured to receive a review copy of Danged Black Thing ahead of it's much anticipated release. Traversing the west and Africa, this unique collection of shorts is both dreamlike and lyrical, while delivered with the sharpness of cut glass. It is speculative and mythical inexplicably wrapped in the mundane.
It begins with Simbiyu, amid the colours of forest laced with the sweet scent of crushed guavas and the intermittent whiff of soured yams. Childhood against a rural backdrop brought alive on the page is told in textured layers of family amid the brusque contrast of loss. A boy longing for the comfort of his once pillow-soft mother, forges his way in the world, winning a scholarship that will take him to Australia. But roots cannot be shaken, and while the heady colours of home are a welcome memory, shadows of the past tighten their embrace. When the story came to an end, I found myself wanting to stay, to know more of the character that had revealed worlds in just a few pages.
This is a remarkable collection of voices exploring migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood; a collection that pushes the boundaries of creativity and science, delving into family, love and loss across time and space, speaking to the future with detailed imaginings of a landscape filled with warnings to heed, and questions about what it means to be human. And that is just the first two stories.
There are tales of revenge, aliens and fantastical beasts, explorations touching each phase of life, drawing on the power of ancestors, tradition, and vivid descriptions of both modern and fantastical worlds. The prose is soaked in truth, empathy and invention, transporting you deep into physical place and breathless mental imaginings. Each word leaves you hanging in this collection that feels like a colourful celebration of life, complete with flaws, scars, magic and beauty.
It begins with Simbiyu, amid the colours of forest laced with the sweet scent of crushed guavas and the intermittent whiff of soured yams. Childhood against a rural backdrop brought alive on the page is told in textured layers of family amid the brusque contrast of loss. A boy longing for the comfort of his once pillow-soft mother, forges his way in the world, winning a scholarship that will take him to Australia. But roots cannot be shaken, and while the heady colours of home are a welcome memory, shadows of the past tighten their embrace. When the story came to an end, I found myself wanting to stay, to know more of the character that had revealed worlds in just a few pages.
This is a remarkable collection of voices exploring migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood; a collection that pushes the boundaries of creativity and science, delving into family, love and loss across time and space, speaking to the future with detailed imaginings of a landscape filled with warnings to heed, and questions about what it means to be human. And that is just the first two stories.
There are tales of revenge, aliens and fantastical beasts, explorations touching each phase of life, drawing on the power of ancestors, tradition, and vivid descriptions of both modern and fantastical worlds. The prose is soaked in truth, empathy and invention, transporting you deep into physical place and breathless mental imaginings. Each word leaves you hanging in this collection that feels like a colourful celebration of life, complete with flaws, scars, magic and beauty.
June 15, 2023
The speculative short stories in this book are luscious and sticky. The concepts are ambitious and the author wields words like a post-impressionist painter. As in Van Gogh’s Starry Night, there’s a deviation from expected structure that would try to represent reality accurately, and instead you’ll find a saturated emotional canvas that translates meaning straight to your guts.
Summary
There are 17 short stories in this collection, each featuring Eugen’s unique voice. She is an African Australian and I learned something new about her life and culture effortlessly in each—from the names of native fruits, pieces of clothing, or major geographical landmarks.
My favorite story had my favorite concept. In “The Water Runner” the main character’s job takes her around a dystopian, droughted landscape harvesting water from dead bodies—from an infant in a village to a potentially murdered husband stuffed in a vat. You go with her day-in-the-life-style from her bed with complicated lover, through her morning at work, a lunch of various nutrition pills, with a really terrifying twist ending. The story is rich with side-plot scenes and vivid, desolate characters that add up to a tapestry that sticks in my brain.
I can’t say I understood every paragraph in every story—the concepts are wild and the words wilder, and sometimes for me, that meant I didn’t really get what was going on. I ultimately admire the ambitious flirtation with meaning, though. This happened to me most where Eugen is writing from the perspective of a god, spirit, alien, or other inhuman entity. In these instances, she uses spectacular flourish that appeals to familiar senses but correlate to unexpected things.
For instance, in the beginning of “A Pod of Mermaids”: “Rain was a hungry widow. That wet August dusk, the heart talked history—Angerboda had only to check its pieces, each heavier than its size. The widow it was, each droplet keened with shoeless children, but the rain’s harmonica was filled with brandy and brine.”
A literal variation Hemingway might write: Angerboda is sad and it’s raining.
Questions I had on first pass: What do shoeless children have to do with widow and raindrops? How does the rain play a harmonica filled with brandy and wine—two other liquids!? Why is August important?
Conclusion: the literal meaning is absolutely not what Eugen is going for here. The language is beautiful and my heartstrings harmonize with that harmonica. Ultimately, I keep reading because I trust the author that what I feel upon reading is what I’m supposed to feel.
What I Loved:
-Ambitious, unique, speculative concepts that are in my brain now like flashbulb memories
-Gorgeous, evocative language that seemed to sometimes circumvent literal translation directly into sensations and emotions
What I Noticed:
-Sometimes, the evocative language made it hard for me to understand. A character’s otherworldly reactions didn’t find enough structure in the already-otherworldly story to ground me in what was at stake. Often, I took these paragraphs like I’d take in art and let feelings translate—but this wasn’t always productive and occasionally made for some heavy lifting. This is to be expected if the author is erring on the side of evocative and unique, and ultimately I’ll take the times it doesn’t work for the times that it does.
-The reader experience is heavy. I couldn’t read more than a story or two at a time, I needed to sit with them and process
Summary
There are 17 short stories in this collection, each featuring Eugen’s unique voice. She is an African Australian and I learned something new about her life and culture effortlessly in each—from the names of native fruits, pieces of clothing, or major geographical landmarks.
My favorite story had my favorite concept. In “The Water Runner” the main character’s job takes her around a dystopian, droughted landscape harvesting water from dead bodies—from an infant in a village to a potentially murdered husband stuffed in a vat. You go with her day-in-the-life-style from her bed with complicated lover, through her morning at work, a lunch of various nutrition pills, with a really terrifying twist ending. The story is rich with side-plot scenes and vivid, desolate characters that add up to a tapestry that sticks in my brain.
I can’t say I understood every paragraph in every story—the concepts are wild and the words wilder, and sometimes for me, that meant I didn’t really get what was going on. I ultimately admire the ambitious flirtation with meaning, though. This happened to me most where Eugen is writing from the perspective of a god, spirit, alien, or other inhuman entity. In these instances, she uses spectacular flourish that appeals to familiar senses but correlate to unexpected things.
For instance, in the beginning of “A Pod of Mermaids”: “Rain was a hungry widow. That wet August dusk, the heart talked history—Angerboda had only to check its pieces, each heavier than its size. The widow it was, each droplet keened with shoeless children, but the rain’s harmonica was filled with brandy and brine.”
A literal variation Hemingway might write: Angerboda is sad and it’s raining.
Questions I had on first pass: What do shoeless children have to do with widow and raindrops? How does the rain play a harmonica filled with brandy and wine—two other liquids!? Why is August important?
Conclusion: the literal meaning is absolutely not what Eugen is going for here. The language is beautiful and my heartstrings harmonize with that harmonica. Ultimately, I keep reading because I trust the author that what I feel upon reading is what I’m supposed to feel.
What I Loved:
-Ambitious, unique, speculative concepts that are in my brain now like flashbulb memories
-Gorgeous, evocative language that seemed to sometimes circumvent literal translation directly into sensations and emotions
What I Noticed:
-Sometimes, the evocative language made it hard for me to understand. A character’s otherworldly reactions didn’t find enough structure in the already-otherworldly story to ground me in what was at stake. Often, I took these paragraphs like I’d take in art and let feelings translate—but this wasn’t always productive and occasionally made for some heavy lifting. This is to be expected if the author is erring on the side of evocative and unique, and ultimately I’ll take the times it doesn’t work for the times that it does.
-The reader experience is heavy. I couldn’t read more than a story or two at a time, I needed to sit with them and process
June 21, 2023
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This superb collection of stories shows the range, skill and remarkable literary mind of Eugen Bacon. What a journey it took me on, and what a wonderful introduction to her writing. Bacon has won many honours, and Danged Black Thing makes it easy to see why.
One story here is set in a future London full of holograms and bad dates. Another comes from a dry future where water for general use is extracted from the dead. In Kampala, a man persuades his wife to get a chip implanted so he can have access to unlimited data. Angerboda is the goddess whose adopted sons seem to turn into dictators.
There are two stories specifically about immigrant life: in The Failing Name, the contrast between the fantasy of life overseas and reality is shown when a girl is sent away to live with her rather cruel aunt; and Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof is about a woman who left home for university on another continent, and who now struggles with the financial burdens and loneliness of being a student and mother without her social support system.
The Window’s Rooster is a short fable, similar to what you would hear around a fire at night in many parts of Africa. One of my favourite stories is the fantastic one written with E. Don Harpe—whose bio says he’s descended from America’s first serial killers!—about a certain dictator, The Man, whose country was “stolen” (in his words) by Milton Obote, and whose memory has now faded to irrelevance. A Taste of Unguja is a surreal tale of vengeance, African-style. Still She Visits is a tender and heart-breaking ghost story about sisters, separation, and AIDS. The title story, also written with Harpe, is a very cool and sublimely slick story about possessed machines.
Bacon takes readers to many dreamy and delightfully weird times and places with this collection. There is much that feels unusual even for this genre. In addition, most of these stories are about Africans or Africa, making Danged Black Thing distinctly Africanfuturist (possibly with a touch of Africanjujuism). This elevates Bacon to one of my particular favourites; so few writers are writing in this area, and even fewer with such skill.
Read this particularly if you like speculative fiction, if you enjoy unusual short stories, or perhaps want to be introduced to the form by a highly proficient and very imaginative writer. Highly recommended.
Thank you to NetGalley and to Apex Book Company for access!
This superb collection of stories shows the range, skill and remarkable literary mind of Eugen Bacon. What a journey it took me on, and what a wonderful introduction to her writing. Bacon has won many honours, and Danged Black Thing makes it easy to see why.
One story here is set in a future London full of holograms and bad dates. Another comes from a dry future where water for general use is extracted from the dead. In Kampala, a man persuades his wife to get a chip implanted so he can have access to unlimited data. Angerboda is the goddess whose adopted sons seem to turn into dictators.
There are two stories specifically about immigrant life: in The Failing Name, the contrast between the fantasy of life overseas and reality is shown when a girl is sent away to live with her rather cruel aunt; and Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof is about a woman who left home for university on another continent, and who now struggles with the financial burdens and loneliness of being a student and mother without her social support system.
The Window’s Rooster is a short fable, similar to what you would hear around a fire at night in many parts of Africa. One of my favourite stories is the fantastic one written with E. Don Harpe—whose bio says he’s descended from America’s first serial killers!—about a certain dictator, The Man, whose country was “stolen” (in his words) by Milton Obote, and whose memory has now faded to irrelevance. A Taste of Unguja is a surreal tale of vengeance, African-style. Still She Visits is a tender and heart-breaking ghost story about sisters, separation, and AIDS. The title story, also written with Harpe, is a very cool and sublimely slick story about possessed machines.
Bacon takes readers to many dreamy and delightfully weird times and places with this collection. There is much that feels unusual even for this genre. In addition, most of these stories are about Africans or Africa, making Danged Black Thing distinctly Africanfuturist (possibly with a touch of Africanjujuism). This elevates Bacon to one of my particular favourites; so few writers are writing in this area, and even fewer with such skill.
Read this particularly if you like speculative fiction, if you enjoy unusual short stories, or perhaps want to be introduced to the form by a highly proficient and very imaginative writer. Highly recommended.
Thank you to NetGalley and to Apex Book Company for access!
July 25, 2023
The 17 stories in Danged Black Thing, by Eugen Bacon, span sci-fi, horror, fantasy and drama. At the same time, they draw on a number of common themes that really made an impression on me.
Other things that pull them together are their evocativeness, and the fact that many of them left me feeling unsettled (in a good way)!
Several stories explore the experience of being an African migrant to Australia or Europe, tying in with the author’s own story. These have an insightful overarching message that you never stop being a migrant – either due to the connections you retain to your old home, or the way people perceive and treat you in your new one.
While some of these connections are more prosaic – staying in touch by phone or online, sending money home, helping relatives follow in your footsteps – others are extraordinary.
We witness characters having a psychic connection with someone still in Africa (The Failing Name), being unable to leave behind a personal curse (Simbuju and the Nameless), or calling on their ancestors’ powers to curse someone in their adopted country (A Taste of Unguja).
As a fan of the spooky and weird, these eerie stories especially compelled me. The collection’s speculative stories about climate change and advances in technology – most notably, The Water Runner, and the title story – were also among my favourites due to my particular interest in the genre.
The burdens placed on Black women specifically is another major theme. For example, one character experiences visions of the unlived life of her stillborn baby, putting me in mind of unconscionable racial differentials in birth outcomes globally (Phantasms of Existence); another is microchipped so she can become a data hotspot for her husband’s work phone, causing her to sicken and die (Unlimited Data).
However, it’s not all doom and gloom - there’s also space for hope, power, joy, and success in some stories, such as Messier 94 and Rain Doesn’t Fall On One Roof.
On the other side of the coin, many of the men in these women’s lives – Black and white – range from merely disappointing to morally reprehensible. The focus turns to African dictators in a couple of stories.
In a few stories, sons are lost or stolen, whether to death (Phantasms of Existence), by a scheming ex (A Taste of Unguja), or by a Norse mother of monsters (A Pod of Mermaids), again putting me in mind of structural racism, including the adultification of Black boys and its tragic consequences.
Danged Black Thing is an inventive, wide-ranging, and often unsettling short story collection.
Other things that pull them together are their evocativeness, and the fact that many of them left me feeling unsettled (in a good way)!
Several stories explore the experience of being an African migrant to Australia or Europe, tying in with the author’s own story. These have an insightful overarching message that you never stop being a migrant – either due to the connections you retain to your old home, or the way people perceive and treat you in your new one.
While some of these connections are more prosaic – staying in touch by phone or online, sending money home, helping relatives follow in your footsteps – others are extraordinary.
We witness characters having a psychic connection with someone still in Africa (The Failing Name), being unable to leave behind a personal curse (Simbuju and the Nameless), or calling on their ancestors’ powers to curse someone in their adopted country (A Taste of Unguja).
As a fan of the spooky and weird, these eerie stories especially compelled me. The collection’s speculative stories about climate change and advances in technology – most notably, The Water Runner, and the title story – were also among my favourites due to my particular interest in the genre.
The burdens placed on Black women specifically is another major theme. For example, one character experiences visions of the unlived life of her stillborn baby, putting me in mind of unconscionable racial differentials in birth outcomes globally (Phantasms of Existence); another is microchipped so she can become a data hotspot for her husband’s work phone, causing her to sicken and die (Unlimited Data).
However, it’s not all doom and gloom - there’s also space for hope, power, joy, and success in some stories, such as Messier 94 and Rain Doesn’t Fall On One Roof.
On the other side of the coin, many of the men in these women’s lives – Black and white – range from merely disappointing to morally reprehensible. The focus turns to African dictators in a couple of stories.
In a few stories, sons are lost or stolen, whether to death (Phantasms of Existence), by a scheming ex (A Taste of Unguja), or by a Norse mother of monsters (A Pod of Mermaids), again putting me in mind of structural racism, including the adultification of Black boys and its tragic consequences.
Danged Black Thing is an inventive, wide-ranging, and often unsettling short story collection.
June 20, 2023
This superb collection of stories shows the range, skill and remarkable literary mind of Eugen Bacon. What a journey it took me on, and what a wonderful introduction to her writing. Bacon has won many honours, and Danged Black Thing makes it easy to see why.
One story here is set in a future London full of holograms and bad dates. Another comes from a dry future where water for general use is extracted from the dead. In Kampala, a man persuades his wife to get a chip implanted so he can have access to unlimited data. Angerboda is the goddess whose adopted sons seem to turn into dictators.
There are two stories specifically about immigrant life: in The Failing Name, the contrast between the fantasy of life overseas and reality is shown when a girl is sent away to live with her rather cruel aunt; and Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof is about a woman who left home for university on another continent, and who now struggles with the financial burdens and loneliness of being a student and mother without her social support system.
The Window’s Rooster is a short fable, similar to what you would hear around a fire at night in many parts of Africa. One of my favourite stories is the fantastic one written with E. Don Harpe—whose bio says he’s descended from America’s first serial killers!—about a certain dictator, The Man, whose country was “stolen” (in his words) by Milton Obote, and whose memory has now faded to irrelevance. A Taste of Unguja is a surreal tale of vengeance, African-style. Still She Visits is a tender and heart-breaking ghost story about sisters, separation, and AIDS. The title story, also written with Harpe, is a very cool and sublimely slick story about possessed machines.
Bacon takes readers to many dreamy and delightfully weird times and places with this collection. There is much that feels unusual even for this genre. In addition, most of these stories are about Africans or Africa, making Danged Black Thing distinctly Africanfuturist (possibly with a touch of Africanjujuism). This elevates Bacon to one of my particular favourites; so few writers are writing in this area, and even fewer with such skill.
Read this particularly if you like speculative fiction, if you enjoy unusual short stories, or perhaps want to be introduced to the form by a highly proficient and very imaginative writer. Highly recommended.
One story here is set in a future London full of holograms and bad dates. Another comes from a dry future where water for general use is extracted from the dead. In Kampala, a man persuades his wife to get a chip implanted so he can have access to unlimited data. Angerboda is the goddess whose adopted sons seem to turn into dictators.
There are two stories specifically about immigrant life: in The Failing Name, the contrast between the fantasy of life overseas and reality is shown when a girl is sent away to live with her rather cruel aunt; and Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof is about a woman who left home for university on another continent, and who now struggles with the financial burdens and loneliness of being a student and mother without her social support system.
The Window’s Rooster is a short fable, similar to what you would hear around a fire at night in many parts of Africa. One of my favourite stories is the fantastic one written with E. Don Harpe—whose bio says he’s descended from America’s first serial killers!—about a certain dictator, The Man, whose country was “stolen” (in his words) by Milton Obote, and whose memory has now faded to irrelevance. A Taste of Unguja is a surreal tale of vengeance, African-style. Still She Visits is a tender and heart-breaking ghost story about sisters, separation, and AIDS. The title story, also written with Harpe, is a very cool and sublimely slick story about possessed machines.
Bacon takes readers to many dreamy and delightfully weird times and places with this collection. There is much that feels unusual even for this genre. In addition, most of these stories are about Africans or Africa, making Danged Black Thing distinctly Africanfuturist (possibly with a touch of Africanjujuism). This elevates Bacon to one of my particular favourites; so few writers are writing in this area, and even fewer with such skill.
Read this particularly if you like speculative fiction, if you enjoy unusual short stories, or perhaps want to be introduced to the form by a highly proficient and very imaginative writer. Highly recommended.
September 7, 2021
Danged Black Thing, however, is both speculative and innovative. It’s a collection of short stories that explore love and migration, gender and class, patriarchy and womanhood while traversing the West and Africa. Born in Tanzania, Eugene Bacon is an African-Australian writer from Britain who is attracting international attention for her powerfully magical stories which bring the scarred and adrift together with the magical and the mundane. As you can see from her website, her work has won, been shortlisted, longlisted or commended in national and international awards.
The first story in this collection is ‘Simbiyu and the Nameless.’ Written in the second person, it begins in an unnamed African country, recalling the childhood of Simbiyu, at eighteen months, at four, five, seven and nine, continuing to adolescence and migration to Australia on a sporting scholarship. The reader can almost smell the scent of guava and sour yams in the forest and he contrasts his pillow-soft mother with the harshness of Aunty Prim, but this is no sentimental yarn. Children die on the riverbank when a black octopus climbs from the water’s surface. There is a menace approaching, human, nonhuman, waving tentacles. The boy is sent away to Aunt Prim because these repeated tragedies changed how people saw you. Sent on to Australia, he is told to make ‘us’ proud:
The dark power he wields won’t stand for any difficulties from racist immigration officials or a young woman who will take one look at you and remember to remotely lock her car. or a barman built like a fridge but there’s heat in his dislike. To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/09/05/d...
The first story in this collection is ‘Simbiyu and the Nameless.’ Written in the second person, it begins in an unnamed African country, recalling the childhood of Simbiyu, at eighteen months, at four, five, seven and nine, continuing to adolescence and migration to Australia on a sporting scholarship. The reader can almost smell the scent of guava and sour yams in the forest and he contrasts his pillow-soft mother with the harshness of Aunty Prim, but this is no sentimental yarn. Children die on the riverbank when a black octopus climbs from the water’s surface. There is a menace approaching, human, nonhuman, waving tentacles. The boy is sent away to Aunt Prim because these repeated tragedies changed how people saw you. Sent on to Australia, he is told to make ‘us’ proud:
Does ‘us’ include your mother? You haven’t seen her in years. Sometimes, you wonder about her, then forget. You lost your mother the day Tatu died. She stopped breastfeeding you that same evening, and her touch hardened. (p.10)
The dark power he wields won’t stand for any difficulties from racist immigration officials or a young woman who will take one look at you and remember to remotely lock her car. or a barman built like a fridge but there’s heat in his dislike. To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/09/05/d...
August 29, 2024
One doesn't need to go to another planet to be forced into a hostile, alien environment. Neither do they need monsters to fear. The world has plenty of those already.
Eugen Bacon's Danged Black Thing is a collection of stories about the trauma of colonialism, the pain of family, and the triumphant struggle to keep going. The seventeen stories range from full-on sci-fi dystopian futures to a family drama in which the most speculative element is the memory of a lost mother. Each follows characters either in a central/western African nation deeply affected by the twin wounds of capitalism and colonialism, or living in diaspora. Bacon's flowing, visceral language is at times ambiguous, with lines like, "Rain was a hungry widow," that hit hard. Her characters, mostly women and children, are put into deeply difficult places, but even the bleak moments are punctuated by a a drive to survive, and more importantly to make the situation a little better for the next generation.
The first story, "Simbiyu and the Nameless", might be my favorite - a dash of cosmic horror following around a young person trying to make a new life in Australia, perhaps to help, but always for a price. And the title story, a darkly-comedic satire of technology gone wrong, was a welcome surprise. This collection has already gotten plenty of praise, and I am glad to see it re-released for the US market. Nothing in here is easy, but it's all welcome...
I was provided an ARC by Apex Books, and am very glad of it!
Eugen Bacon's Danged Black Thing is a collection of stories about the trauma of colonialism, the pain of family, and the triumphant struggle to keep going. The seventeen stories range from full-on sci-fi dystopian futures to a family drama in which the most speculative element is the memory of a lost mother. Each follows characters either in a central/western African nation deeply affected by the twin wounds of capitalism and colonialism, or living in diaspora. Bacon's flowing, visceral language is at times ambiguous, with lines like, "Rain was a hungry widow," that hit hard. Her characters, mostly women and children, are put into deeply difficult places, but even the bleak moments are punctuated by a a drive to survive, and more importantly to make the situation a little better for the next generation.
The first story, "Simbiyu and the Nameless", might be my favorite - a dash of cosmic horror following around a young person trying to make a new life in Australia, perhaps to help, but always for a price. And the title story, a darkly-comedic satire of technology gone wrong, was a welcome surprise. This collection has already gotten plenty of praise, and I am glad to see it re-released for the US market. Nothing in here is easy, but it's all welcome...
I was provided an ARC by Apex Books, and am very glad of it!
December 27, 2021
An enjoyable collection of short stories! Bacon's use of allegory and symbolism adds richness and a dreamlike quality to her tales.
March 12, 2022
My favourite stories from this are 'A Visit in Whitechapel', 'A Taste of Unguja' and 'Forgetting Toolern' for the fantastical trips.
August 27, 2023
Danged Black Thing
by Eugen Bacon
Like a bento box packed with mysterious and wondrous sushi creations, each of Eugen Bacon's short stories, be it an African village horror story, an Australian urban scifi relationship drama, an erotic computer fantasy, a cautionary tale of sexual obsession, or a creepy satire about death calling on a wily old African dictator in hiding, is a stunning surprise package in its own right. This broad canvas of diverse and hybrid genres is bound together by the unique voice of a master storyteller and poet, and pickled in a spicy sauce that is in turns compassionate, erotic, fiercely feminist and darkly funny. And sometimes all at once. Four and half stars rounded up.
by Eugen BaconLike a bento box packed with mysterious and wondrous sushi creations, each of Eugen Bacon's short stories, be it an African village horror story, an Australian urban scifi relationship drama, an erotic computer fantasy, a cautionary tale of sexual obsession, or a creepy satire about death calling on a wily old African dictator in hiding, is a stunning surprise package in its own right. This broad canvas of diverse and hybrid genres is bound together by the unique voice of a master storyteller and poet, and pickled in a spicy sauce that is in turns compassionate, erotic, fiercely feminist and darkly funny. And sometimes all at once. Four and half stars rounded up.
October 30, 2023
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Danged Black Thing is comprised of 17 short stories, collected across several years of Bacon’s work.
The stories play with voices that intersect the Australian experience and those of several African nations (some real, some fictitious, some unnamed), commenting on race, motherhood, climate change, identity and feminism.
I really enjoyed some of these stories, particularly those rooted in a more realistic setting… I appreciate Bacon’s willingness to allow the reader to “do the work” and not overload each story with detail, however I found some of the higher-order speculative fiction elements to go a bit over my head.
Stand out stories for me - The Water Runner, Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof, Danged Black Thing, A Taste for Unguja and Forgetting Toolern.
Danged Black Thing is comprised of 17 short stories, collected across several years of Bacon’s work.
The stories play with voices that intersect the Australian experience and those of several African nations (some real, some fictitious, some unnamed), commenting on race, motherhood, climate change, identity and feminism.
I really enjoyed some of these stories, particularly those rooted in a more realistic setting… I appreciate Bacon’s willingness to allow the reader to “do the work” and not overload each story with detail, however I found some of the higher-order speculative fiction elements to go a bit over my head.
Stand out stories for me - The Water Runner, Rain Doesn’t Fall on One Roof, Danged Black Thing, A Taste for Unguja and Forgetting Toolern.
May 29, 2023
An original voice in speculative fiction!
There's a beautiful and unique mood conjured by Bacon's lush prose.
As an engineer, I enjoyed the climate speculation in particular—which gets combined with murder mystery and even horror when Bacon speculates what a community has to do for one another when they run out of water.
I'm totally up for high concept short stories that introduce weird worlds which will be gone forever in just ten pages—really I read for the density of ideas—but I often need everything spelled out for me so I can focus on the story. Bacon is not an author who holds your hand, so I got a bit lost at times, but these are definitely stories designed for rereading.
A collection which showcases the peak of what speculative fiction can do, definitely worth seeking out if you are a fan of poetic prose and dense, magical worlds filled with dark secrets!
Thank you to Apex Book Company for the ARC :D
There's a beautiful and unique mood conjured by Bacon's lush prose.
As an engineer, I enjoyed the climate speculation in particular—which gets combined with murder mystery and even horror when Bacon speculates what a community has to do for one another when they run out of water.
I'm totally up for high concept short stories that introduce weird worlds which will be gone forever in just ten pages—really I read for the density of ideas—but I often need everything spelled out for me so I can focus on the story. Bacon is not an author who holds your hand, so I got a bit lost at times, but these are definitely stories designed for rereading.
A collection which showcases the peak of what speculative fiction can do, definitely worth seeking out if you are a fan of poetic prose and dense, magical worlds filled with dark secrets!
Thank you to Apex Book Company for the ARC :D
October 30, 2023
This author is one the best authors I have read this year, They are new to me but exceptional. I loved this collection it was witty and smart and timely. This book needs to be on every library shelf. This was an ambitious collection and boy did it pay off. There was sci-fi, horror, fantasy, and drama. The character development was astonishing, especially for short works. Highly imaginative and descriptive. I can see these stories.
Must read for lovers of speculative fiction. But I highly recommend it to everyone.
I was provided a review copy by Apex Books in return for my honest review.
Must read for lovers of speculative fiction. But I highly recommend it to everyone.
I was provided a review copy by Apex Books in return for my honest review.
July 10, 2023
3.5 Stars
This is a collection of short stories. Some were incredibly insightful, emotional, and powerful. Others not so much.
The overall running themes included women's struggles with love, life, and motherhood. Oh and some Tender Is The Flesh worthy thriller stories. Except with water.
I feel like this was an overall sophisticated book that can be discussed and/or debated for hours.
This is a collection of short stories. Some were incredibly insightful, emotional, and powerful. Others not so much.
The overall running themes included women's struggles with love, life, and motherhood. Oh and some Tender Is The Flesh worthy thriller stories. Except with water.
I feel like this was an overall sophisticated book that can be discussed and/or debated for hours.
May 1, 2024
This is a series of short stories. I had a hard time following them to some extent. I am unfamiliar with the background stories that built these stories and had a difficult time fully understanding them. The stories were told well but I didn't really grasp the full picture in them. It felt like looking at the night sky with only a telescope, I saw some things clearly, but I could not grasp how the fell in the greater picture. I do not blame the author, the failure to understand is mine.
January 8, 2024
A strong collection of stories. This author writes well and has an excellent imagination. Good character creation and plot premises make most of these stories pop.
I read this months ago and forgot to review it, and I really appreciate the free copy sent to me by Apex for review!!
I read this months ago and forgot to review it, and I really appreciate the free copy sent to me by Apex for review!!
December 13, 2024
A little disappointed overall. There were a few good stories, including the titular one, but I found many others hard to follow (and I felt I was making an honest effort) and I just didn’t connect with the majority of them.
Want to read
January 10, 2024No Iowa holdings. PKD Award nominee 2023
March 7, 2024
There is some amazing imagery and turns of phrase in here, very lush and evocative writing. I want to call it abundantly sparse writing, the whole book feels like an oxymoron.
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