I'm not historically a fan of the shorter story format. In fact, I've always had a certain aversion to it. So, when I picked up this particular work, I kind of expected that it wasn't going to be my bag. I mean, the shorter story just doesn't seem to have the depth and complexity that I usually look for in a literary piece.
However, I must admit that I've enjoyed Simmons's other work. His novels have always managed to captivate me with their rich characters, engaging plots, and beautiful prose. So, from here on, I think I'll stick to his novels. I'm sure they'll continue to provide me with the kind of reading experience that I truly love.
That being said, I'm not completely ruling out the possibility of enjoying a shorter story in the future. Maybe there's a hidden gem out there that will change my perspective. But for now, I'm content to focus on Simmons's novels and see where they take me.
Ultimately, there wasn't a single story within these pages that truly seized my attention. The WWI novella was, without a doubt, the strongest among them, yet I couldn't help but feel that it lost some of its impact towards the end. It's quite fascinating, however, to come to the realization that a significant portion of this work could never see the light of day in today's publishing landscape. The sexual horror, the exoticist depiction of Southeast Asian people, especially women, and the story in which Simmons, who is identified as 'white' (I use quotes here because I firmly believe that ethnicity and, more specifically, ethnic 'whiteness' is a social construct that we should strive to eliminate), writes from the perspective of a Native American narrator - all of these elements would, in all likelihood, be rejected today for not being 'ownvoices', regardless of how meticulously researched the story might be. It's rather disheartening to recognize just how puritanical our society has become.