REVIEW: The Night Meeting

Two people sit by a fire, sharing the same night. For one, the huddle together in the forest by a campfire. For the other, the pair crouch over a burning barrel in a busy city. Despite coming from different times, different cultures, they understand one another clearly. Who is real? Who is the dream? To answer this, they tell one another stories about the past and future.

R. Jean Mathieu‘s The Night Meeting is structured around this premise. A short story anthology in the Chaucer’s tradition, the individual stories traded back and forth present images of worlds which may have been, and which may yet come to pass. Let’s take a look within.

Disclaimer: I received a free digital copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review. Thanks, Jean! This review strives to be spoiler-free.

Cover by Melissa Mathieu.

What’s Inside?

The Night Meeting collects 15 stories from a variety of perspectives and sub-genres within speculative fiction. According to the front matter ten are reprints, and five tales are new. I’d loosely classify the majority as science fiction, with occasional touches of fantasy. (I’m not interested in getting into sub-genre hairsplitting today.) As mentioned above these are positioned within a frame narrative centered on a classic philosophic problem: how do you know when you’re dreaming, or if you’re nothing more than a dream? The tales are presented as visions by the two seers by which each man seeks to prove their reality to the other.

Within this Cartesian drama some tales also explore philosophic concepts—such as the ethics of environment explored in “Glâcehouse”—while others offer a less cerebral focus. Despite this conceptual emphasis Mathieu’s stories consistently managed to be stories. His consistent focus on character and plot ensures the tales don’t devolve into navel gazing or polemic (looking at you, Terry Goodkind).

“Hymn to Ayammeshki” is my favorite in the collection. Given my taste for fantasy and general ancient-history-geekery, that’s hardly surprising. Two elements stuck out to me in “Hymn” which I believe exemplify Mathieu’s fiction in this collection.

First, Mathieu’s mimicry of ancient Mesopotamia is very strong. I’m quite sure that I recognize the historical inspiration behind Ayarun—the outcast priestess about whom the story is told—in Enheduanna, the daughter of Sargon the Great. Enheduanna was one of the earliest recorded women to hold political power and is likely the earliest author to which we can attest literary work by name. Yet Ayarun’s story is not merely a retelling of history. Likewise “Hymn” is filled with poetic fragments which successfully capture the feel of repetition and exaltation I find prominent in Mesopotamian poetry such as the Epic of Gilgamesh or the Songs of Inanna.

Second, “Hymn” continues the collection’s theme of personal identity and agency through exploring the relationship between Ayarun and the goddess of which she sings, Ayammeshki. As the story unfolds the two blur, leaving open questions of personality, divinity, and sanity. The story’s classic “sword and sorcery” plot and setting strengthen the more philosophic aspect by putting it to the side. Not off-stage, but the focus is on Ayarun’s journey, not a more abstract theme. Doing so creates an engaging story which encourages weird questions.

These elements reinforce one another by creating an engaging plot situation within a setting for which the story’s theme resonates. If Ayarun had a different relationship with Ayammeshki, the theme would not be as strong—not would the ancient setting feel as vibrant. Interlacing these elements strengthens the work as a whole piece.

Outside of this ancient-world fantasy, the more science-fiction tales include the same emphasis on character and society as methods to quietly explore a theme. This extends to both human and alien elements, including a rather intriguing story involving a hive-mind. While each story generally focuses on humanity, it does so within a context of encountering strange situations or hypothetical future societies descended from commingling cultures of our own world. I found the variety intriguing and effective within the frame of possibilities rather than truths.

That said I do feel the frame narrative was the weakest element of the collection. I admire Mathieu’s desire to go beyond a straightforward anthology, but the thematic connections between story and frame occasionally felt tenuous. Combined with a resolution which I found narratively unsatisfying, I imagine on a re-read I’d wind up skipping through the interludes and focusing on the individual tales. Increasing the length of the interludes may strengthen their connective function. However, a significant piece of my dissatisfaction is personal taste. I understand the meaning and intent of the frame’s conclusion. I don’t think it’s “badly” done. It just left me feeling “hungry” rather than “full.”


Interested in checking out some of my own fiction? My favorite recent piece is probably the Glorantha short story “Calling on Ernalda.” It’s online for free, so go check it out!


Production

Unlike my usual TTRPG fare there’s not as much production comments to mention with fiction. I read this from a PDF, and the file worked well. Mathieu’s put his work in to proofread the piece. There’s the occasional typo but it’s hardly egregious. I’d describe the overall textual polish as a bit above my subjective feeling of “indie average.”

It’s worth noting that the interludes use periods instead of commas in dialogue tags, which I’d normally consider an error. I reached out and asked Mathieu about this since the usage is consistent, and he informed me that it’s intentional. I’m not convinced it was the right choice—it did throw me while reading—but I do admire opting to do something unexpected.


Conclusion

Overall I enjoyed the stories in The Night Meeting, but unfortunately I can’t say I loved them. However, can say that my somewhat lukewarm response isn’t due to the stories’ quality. I’m just not an enormous sci-fi reader and most of the anthology is playing with philosophic and sociological themes in a way that, subjectively, I’m just not that into. (That said, there’s a fair chance I’ll print out “Hymn” to have a physical version in my library—it’s a piece I feel is worth studying to improve my own sword & sorcery short fiction.)

If you like science fiction and enjoy short-form narrative, I do recommend The Night Meeting. His intriguing collection of the human and the alien at home and on distant worlds is worth reading. The most similar work I’ve read recently is The Expanse due to their shared fascination with human lives, societies, and alien biologies and societies. If you enjoy one, I reckon you’ll enjoy the other.

The Night Meeting is available now! If you want to learn more about Mathieu’s work, head on over to his website.

See you next week!


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