Review: Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical by Robert Shearman

Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical by Robert ShearmanMany people met Robert Shearman at Aussiecon 4 in September, and we bandied about words like ‘funny’ and ‘adorable’ and ‘wicked’. Well, I bandied them at any rate. And Rob Shearman is all those things. He is also sharp, smart and extraordinarily gifted.

I picked up Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical because I like Rob Shearman, I liked his Dr Who episode, ‘Dalek’, and the strangely dark story Road Kill that was published by Twelfth Planet Press. I had just appeared on an Aussiecon panel with him about SF and Theatre, too. I wanted to find out more about his work. John Richards (of Boxcutters) had read the collection of short stories and said that they were bleak. Rob insisted that they were funny.

I’ve read the whole collection now. It turns out that John and Rob are both correct.

Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical is a collection of short stories about love. Not about happy-clappy, soppy, head-over-heels love – but about what love is, and isn’t. It’s about what love does to us, and how it hurts us, and how we are afraid of it. Ultimately, it’s also about love’s potential, and how it can be sublime as well as all those other things.

Some of the stories are indeed very funny. The opening tale, Love Among the Lobelias, explores what happens when the Devil launches his writing career. His attempts to explore his softer side have unintended consequences and it seems that there are people in the world more evil than the Prince of Darkness. 14.2 is another darkly funny tale and a warning about attempts to measure or quantify love.

There are very dark, bleak and bitter stories too. There are tragedies and horror stories. Be of Good Cheer, about a woman who suffers physical pain when other people are happy, and so the man who loves her keeps himself miserable for her sake, reminded me so strongly of people that I know that I found it devastating.

Among the tales of bleakness and darkness, there are gentle, sweet stories too, like Love in a Time of Sharing, and forgiving stories, like Luxembourg.

Towards the end, Not About Love becomes surreally metatextual. It’s a story about this collection of stories, where the dark subjects within are criticised by Shearman’s own family. It’s like he’s answering the critics already about what he thinks of love, and his own apparent cynicism on the subject. This leads into One Last Love Song, which is as uneasy and complicated as all the rest, but is also a statement about the transcedence of love without being in the slightest bit mawkish or sentimental.

Robert Shearman very much deserves the awards he has been gathering for Love Songs for the Shy and Cynical – which include a British Fantasy Award for Best Collection. He won in the same category for the Shirley Jackson Awards. His love stories are not always easy reading. Even the funny ones are full of humanity being fragile, cruel or selfish. But there is also kindness and, yes, love.

Love is complex and sometimes twisted, and it’s a joy (and a heartbreak) to read a collection of stories about love which manages to be both knowing and forgiving of all humanity’s flaws.

You can read more about Robert Shearman, or just head on over to Big Finish or to buy a copy. Do it now while the Australian dollar is in good health against the pound! (I can’t find an Australian online bookseller that has it in stock!)

Lessons in language: Tactfully changing tack

Some things have been jarring me lately. Jarring me until my teeth ache. So please excuse me while I have a language rant.

I love language. I love learning new words and phrases, and I love discovering how those phrases came to be. Etymology – the account of how words and phrases originated – is of endless fascination to me.

And because I love language, when I see errors in language written by novelists and journalists, I seem to suffer actual physical pain. It hurts me when people haven’t the faintest idea how to use an apostrophe, or how to spell ‘definite’, or that there is a difference between a ‘magic bullet’ and a ‘silver bullet’ when talking about problem solving.

I’m not talking about errors made by your average Joe/Jo in the street, or in casual communications. Friends writing emails aren’t necessarily professional writers and shouldn’t be held to the same standards. Even for writers – well, typos happen to the best of us. But there is a difference between an obvious typo, and when a writer (or their editor) clearly doesn’t know their grammar/vocabulary/punctuation.

My big gripe at the moment is the phrase ‘changing tact’, to indicate a change of approach to a problem.

The expression is actually ‘changing tack’. Etymologically, the phrase is derived from the nautical term ‘to tack’. When ships tack, they change course relative to the direction of the wind – zig-zagging against the wind to move forward.

Knowing the origin of the phrase makes it easier to remember how to spell it. In context of its origin, the spelling makes perfect sense. Using the word ‘tact’ makes no sense to me at all. I’m sure being sensitive and diplomatic (showing tact) is important in problem solving, but you can’t change that kind of tact. Or do people think it is related to the word ‘tactic’?

I know that English doesn’t always seem to make a lot of sense – although, once etymology is understood it does make better sense. That’s what you get with a language that has been built out of a half dozen other languages – Latin and Celtic, Norman French and Saxon German, the language of the Vikings, everything that’s been borrowed from Arabic, Russian, Hindi and more.

The incorrect use of the word ‘tact’ in this phrase indicates to me that the people using it have never seen it written down. They’ve heard – or rather misheard – the phrase and are just having a stab at how it should be written. This happens a lot with other phrases and spelling. People write ‘tow the line’ instead of ‘toe the line’ all the time; or ‘should of’ instead of ‘should’ve’ (the contraction of ‘should have’). The number of times I’ve seen ‘flout’ (often spelled as ‘flaut’) and ‘flaunt’ (which have completely different meanings) confused in print gives me a toothache.

The thing is, I don’t have a university degree in language (or in anything else, come to that). The reason I have a wide vocabulary and an understanding of grammar and punctuation is essentially because I read. Voraciously. I read biographies and histories. I read SF and crime. I read trashy thrillers and Booker Prize winners. I read classics from the 19th century and new writers from the 21st.  I read children’s books and adult fiction. I read newspapers and magazines. I read the back of the box. I read for fun and education. I read. All the time.

When I come across a word or phrase I don’t understand, and can’t work out from its context in the story, I look it up. I teach myself new language.

If you’re a writer, you should be reading. You should be noting words and phrases and exploring anything that is new, to add to your writer’s language toolbox.

But most of all, you should be writing ‘change tack’ instead of ‘change tact’.

Please. I and my aching teeth will thank you for it.

Words are like oxygen

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