Jonathan Abernathy You Are Kind, by Molly McGhee (Astra House, forthcoming October 17th, 2023)

I’ve always found fascinating the shifting registers of an author’s ‘voice’ as they move between fiction and non-fiction prose; McGhee’s intimate introduction to her debut novel reads like a novel-in-miniature in its own right, and is utterly captivating. I was mesmerized, in that deliciously unseating way, by the frisson of authorial vulnerability and beautiful writing. From the outset, know that you are in the hands of a Writer with this book. I mean no snobbery by saying that. What I mean is: there is a commitment here to exquisite prose, the assembling of words in unexpected formations, that both heightens and grounds the speculative nature of the story. The introduction is an assurance that McGhee is more than capable of leading you through the crystalline tragedy of Jonathan Abernathy’s life. Of life, period/full stop (delete as you prefer). 

‘Jonathan Abernathy you are kind’ is one affirmation of many that the orphaned protagonist invokes for himself to get through the days of his minimum-wage, debt-weighted life.  He has no friends. He may be falling in love with his neighbour, Rhoda, and her daughter, Timmy. An offer of salvation comes in the form of encouragement to apply for the job of ‘Dream Auditor,’ to rid himself of debt. The work? Cleaning the dreams of American workers so that their little worker bodies wake, refreshed and ready to give more, give it there all, each and every morning, with minds cleaned of any anxiety. 

It is a job that, again, from the outset, we are told Abernathy will not survive. But he will try. He will try very hard. And the trying is this story. 

There is a much pleasure as there is terror in these pages – yes, the novel makes a slide into a genre that I wasn’t expecting, but welcomed warmly, regardless – thanks to the gorgeous, surreal dreamscapes that McGhee renders: dreamscapes tempered by precise prose that sketches in, fully, the lives of the novel’s refreshingly small cast. The author’s use of the omniscient narrative voice is startling and original and leaves the denouement, still, as a genuine surprise. 

The book has a lot to say about the structures, and systems, and – most importantly – the people we hold ourselves accountable to. As always with these kinds of dystopian speculations, I sincerely hope that no enterprising techie, sometime in the near future, thinks ‘hey! That novel about sucking up bad dreams to make people more productive… now *that’s* a great idea,’ because while SFF does not, should not predict futures, and does not, should not, prescribe them – there is always the danger that dreams and speculations, unleashed, can take on an after-life of their own. Jonathan Abernathy You Are Kind is a road map to empathy. Break open in times of crisis.

And it is always a crisis.

Hello, and welcome to an extra-special post from Vector’s new Editor-in-Chief: me! 

I had such a wonderful time guest-editing the special issue on Greek SF/F back in Spring 2022, as well as the forthcoming issue on Libraries, Archives, and the Future of Information, with the wonderful Stewart C. Baker, that when I heard on the grapevine that the journal was looking for a new EiC, I just had to throw my hat in the ring. And the Vector gods (aka. Jo and Polina) smiled upon me, and here we are. 

A brief introduction: I’m Dr. Phoenix Alexander, Klein Librarian of Science Fiction and Fantasy at the University of California, Riverside. I curate the Eaton Collection of Science Fiction and Fantasy: one of the largest collections of genre literature in the world. Before that, from 2019-2022, I was the Science Fiction Collections Librarian at the University of Liverpool: one of Europe’s largest collections of, yes, genre literature. I hold a Ph.D. in English and African American Studies from Yale University, and an MA and BA from Queen Mary, University of London. Before *that*, there was fashion school… which was just as fantastical as any genre novel. And, of course, the usual “I’ve been reading since I was a wee lad,” and so on. (To this day, I ascribe my… sanguine taste in SF/F to the outrageous, gratuitous works of David Gemmell and Peter F. Hamilton that I read, in hindsight, at far too young an age). Phew. That’s a lot of ‘science fiction’ in one paragraph.

The belaboured point I’m making is that I’ve been immersed in science fiction, and fantasy, and (yes!) horror, my whole life, and feel so fortunate, every day, to work with scholars and artists and writers and creatives of all permutations. I’m also an author of SF/F (well, mostly SF, and horror) myself, and a full member of SFWA and HWA. 

As my resume suggests, I’ve had the privilege of moving between geographic locations; I was born in Cyprus, raised in the UK, studied for six years in America, briefly returned to the UK, before settling on the US West Coast. My hope, going forward, is to further strengthen the connections between the scholarly, creative, and fannish communities, not just within the US and the UK, but across the world. Genres of the fantastic bring people together in their passions and eccentricities like no other genre. There can be friction, of course – but there can also be magic. 

In the coming months, there are many exciting things to look forward to from ‘Vector’: the aforementioned issue on Libraries, scheduled for late Fall/Winter, reviews and columns from our wonderful (and growing!) list of contributors – both new and familiar faces – with plans to publish even more articles, making Vector, in its physical and online iterations, more vibrant than ever. As always, and most importantly: the journal is a celebration of new fiction, new art, and new scholarship, in and across SFF-nal genres. 

In this spirit of celebration, I’ll end by sharing a review (in the next post) of a forthcoming title from debut author Molly McGhee: a title I greatly enjoyed, and that I hope you enjoy, too.

Warmth and light,

Phoenix Alexander

Vector, EiC