Gravity's angels

An abiding glory of the fantasy genre lies in its willingness to provide a haven for the lonely dreamer, the maverick iconoclast, the man or woman with a vision for whom the doors of the conventional literary establishment would otherwise remain forever closed. And one of the great concomitant joys of this genre is the emergence of such a bold new voice: the appearance of a fledgling fantasist who, with novalike effulgence, embarks upon a scintillant ascent across the science-fictional firmament.

Michael Swanwick's first published story was such an event. "The Feast of Saint Janis" appeared in the anthology series New Dimensions, promptly became a finalist for the Nebula Award, and inaugurated the Great Swanwick Story Search of the 1980s: where would this splendid new writer turn up next, and how would he endeavor to delight us? For all those readers who have spent the previous decade tracking down Swanwick stories in obscure academic quarterlies, mainstream periodicals, one-shot anthologies, SF magazines both prominent and not-so-prominent, the search is over. Gravity's Angels collects all of his short fiction that the author wishes to preserve and comprises thereby a rich and rewarding assemblage of some of the finest speculative writing in recent years.

In the magnificent novelette "Covenant of Souls," a beleaguered inner-city church becomes the milieu for a miracle with apocalyptic repercussions, while lore and legendry magically commingle in the spaceways fable "The Blind Minotaur." A mystical descent to "The Edge of the World" causes three teenagers to confront their innermost fears and forebodings, while in "The Dragon Line" an emissary from the mythic past is summoned to reprieve a polluted planet. From the nightmarish landscape of postmeltdown Pennsylvania to transstellar travel via black holes, Gravity's Angels is a collection of compelling human portraits, impressive technological extrapolation, and lofty literary distinction.