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Five Stories About the Dangerous Business of Truth-Telling
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Five Stories About the Dangerous Business of Truth-Telling

Books reading recommendations Five Stories About the Dangerous Business of Truth-Telling Telling the truth can make you unpopular… or put you into real peril. By James Davis Nicoll | Published on March 24, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share As noted American philosophers Chuck Clarke and Lyle Rogers once observed, telling the truth can be dangerous business. Not only can it curtail future employment opportunities, excessive candor may prove unpopular. It might even get you killed. Here are five stories about truth-telling. “Clan of the Fiery Cross” — The Adventures of Superman radio serial, written by George Putnam Ludlam with Stetson Kennedy (1946) Being replaced as pitcher for the Unity House baseball team by Tommy Lee is an affront to thin-skinned Chuck Riggs. It’s also an opportunity for Chuck’s Uncle Max. Max leads the local chapter of white supremacist terrorist group Clan of the Fiery Cross. The Clan, whose remit includes job facilitation for second-rate white men, already has a bone to pick with the Lees: Tommy’s father Dr. Lee was hired for a job that could have gone to a Clan member… and Dr. Lee is Chinese. What would have in almost any other American city been a straightforward terror campaign proves intractable in Metropolis. Metropolis is home to crusading newspaper Daily Planet. The Daily Planet staff are to a man1 and woman stalwart heroes who do not hesitate to expose the Clan for the criminal organization it is. Sure, the Clan could—and does—target the Daily Planet staff. All that accomplishes is to get the full and undivided attention of Superman. How does one create an exciting radio serial around a character who cannot be hurt, who can, if the mood takes him, simply yeet antagonists into the sun? The solutions the Adventures of Superman writers appear to have used: first, Superman cannot be everywhere; second, the story invests a lot of time on the equally heroic but far more vulnerable supporting characters. Ring Around the Sun by Clifford D. Simak (1953) Businessman Mr. Crawford is determined to save the world. A mysterious, well-heeled organization has declared a quiet war on the West and East. Its weapons? Affordably priced, durable consumer goods. Each new product dooms another industry, sentencing workers to unemployment. The fact that legions of the unemployed are vanishing is no comfort at all. Neither is Crawford’s suspicion that the players on the other side are… MUTANTS! Crawford turns to writer Jay Vickers to help to expose the plot against the world order. Alas for Crawford, Jay has no interest in working for Crawford. Not that lack of interest will keep Jay out of the game. Indeed, Jay (unbeknownst to him) was an active player long before Crawford reached out. Crawford insists on seeing human-mutant relations as two species competing for the same niche, a war only one can survive. In fact, there’s no clear line between humans and mutants; many mutants have no idea they are mutants. The actual conflict is between a worldview that will surely doom us all and a better way of living. The project the mutants are working on isn’t mutant supremacy, but rehabilitating the human species. The Truth by Terry Pratchett (2000) Struggling scribe William de Word sees potential in the dwarven innovation of movable type presses. One judicious partnership later, The Ankh-Morpork Times becomes Ankh-Morpork’s very first newspaper. All de Word and his associates need now is some great crisis suitable for displaying the utility of independent journalism. The Committee to Unelect the Patrician has a bold scheme to replace Patrician Lord Vetinari with a far more tractable pawn. While the Committee’s scheme does not go entirely to plan, Lord Vetinari is successfully framed for crimes he did not commit. Everything is breaking in the Committee’s favor… except for the matter of an all-too-inquisitive newspaper. I don’t think the Committee ever uses its initials, CUP. Nevertheless, I suspect it’s not coincidental that the Committee recalls CREEP, or that meddling journalists confound both the Committee and CREEP… except that The Truth is an inversion of Watergate, in that the reporters’ pursuit of truth allies them with their head of government. Mermaid Scales and the Town of Sand by Yoko Komori (2013-2014) Following the disintegration of her parents’ marriage, fourteen-year-old Tokiko returns to rustic Sunanomori for the first time since she was four. Tokiko doesn’t remember much about the small town. She does remember one thing quite clearly: this is where Tokiko was saved from drowning… by a merman. Merfolk figure prominently in local legend. However, nobody in Sunanomori believes merfolk are real. At least, the adults are adamant that merfolk do not exist. And yet, a merman saved Tokiko. Are the adults lying? If they are, what dread secret are they hiding? It might be logical to conclude that Sunanomori is Japan’s answer to Innsmouth, that the manga ends with adorable Tokiko being dragged to a watery doom by Japanese Deep Ones. There are no Deep Ones! Instead, there is all too many needlessly obfuscatory adults whose solution, when their lies produce tragic results, is to double down. The Language of Liars by S.L. Huang (2026) The Star Eaters are the only beings in the galaxy able to locate and mine the precious meridian element on which all star flight depends. Once enslaved by the other galactic civilizations, the Star Eaters were graciously freed… although the Galactics left their robotic Overseers in place to help keep the Star Eaters focused on relentless productivity. A crisis looms. For reasons unknown, the Star Eaters’ birthrate has fallen to zero. Star Eaters are long-lived but not immortal. Once the last Star Eater dies, there will be no more meridian, no more star flight, and no more civilization. Linguist Ro sets out to discover why the seemingly compliant Star Eaters no longer have children. Ro finds the answers… but little comfort. I was struck by a parallel between how the Galactics treat Star Eaters and the circumstances of the Lll in Delany’s Empire Star. Both have their sympathizers and both are far too useful to be actually provided with meaningful autonomy. I don’t think Huang was directly inspired by Delany, though. It’s likely a case of Huang and Delany being inspired by similar real-world events. Secrets and revelations are so common in SFF that two of the above synopses are of books I happen to have read in the last week2. No doubt you have your own favorites! Comments are below. With the possible exception of timorous Clark Kent, who keeps finding reasons to step out of the room whenever there is a crisis. Clark “Superman” Kent barely tries to conceal his powers in this particular serial, which made me wonder if he really does have a secret identity or if the other Daily Planet staff members are just humouring him. ︎Speaking of books I read in the last week, one of the books I read in the last week is on my 2026 Best Novel Hugo list. In fact, right now that book is my 2026 Best Novel Hugo List. And that book is… ah, but I’ve used up my word count. ︎The post Five Stories About the Dangerous Business of Truth-Telling appeared first on Reactor.

Marvel’s Wonder Man Will Return for a Second Season
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Marvel’s Wonder Man Will Return for a Second Season

News Wonder Man Marvel’s Wonder Man Will Return for a Second Season Let the bromance continue! By Molly Templeton | Published on March 24, 2026 Image: Marvel Studios Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Marvel Studios The adventures of Simon Williams (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) and Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley) will continue. The men of Wonder Man have scored a rarity in the Marvel television universe: a second season. As The Hollywood Reporter noted, only two other live-action shows in the current era of Marvel TV have made it to season two: Loki and Daredevil: Born Again. (WandaVision has its spinoffs, Agatha All Along and the upcoming VisionQuest, but those aren’t the same.) Reactor reviewer Ben Francisco wrote of the first season, “Wonder Man is the most distinctive MCU entry since WandaVision and among the highest quality Disney+ shows that Marvel has produced. It’s a character-driven story that focuses on the Hollywood corner of the MCU and on the rewards and tensions of one budding friendship.” Said friendship is between an up-and-coming actor with superpowers and a more experienced actor whose best-known role may just be that time he spent appearing as the Mandarin (in Iron Man 3 and Shang-Chi). There are other reasons for this friendship’s beginning, but to get into those would be spoilers. Kingsley and Abdul-Mateen will, of course, return for the next go-round; so will co-creator/director Destin Daniel Cretton (Shang-Chi, Spider-Man: Brand New Day) and co-creator/showrunner Andrew Guest (Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Hawkeye). No other details have been announced. You can watch the first season of Wonder Man on Disney Plus.[end-mark] The post Marvel’s <i>Wonder Man</i> Will Return for a Second Season appeared first on Reactor.

For All Mankind Will End With Season Six
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For All Mankind Will End With Season Six

News For All Mankind For All Mankind Will End With Season Six Honestly an alternate version of the 2020s sounds pretty good right now. Maybe By Molly Templeton | Published on March 24, 2026 Screenshot: Apple TV Comment 0 Share New Share Screenshot: Apple TV Good news and bad news, space fans: For All Mankind has been renewed for a sixth season! But that season will bring the long-running Apple TV series to an end. For All Mankind is an alternate-history exploration of a world in which the Soviet Union beat the United States to the moon—which led to a lot of things going rather differently in the following decades. The sixth season will allow the show to catch up to its version of the present day, which will of course be unlike our own experience of the 2020s. (Who would wish this version of the 2020s on anyone?) Matt Wolpert, who co-created the series with Ronald D. Moore and Ben Nedivi, told Variety, “We wanted to tell the arc of the story from the initial divergence of 1969, and then reach the present moment, and see just how different the world we’re in now could have been had we kept pushing for progress and kept pushing forward as a species.” The show’s fifth season is just about to premiere; it lands on Apple TV on March 29, and the latest trailer suggests this season includes a lot of conflict between colonists on Mars and those folks still on Earth. The season winds up on May 29—which is the same day that spin-off Star City premieres. That show will depict the same space race, but from the Soviet side of things.[end-mark] The post <i>For All Mankind</i> Will End With Season Six appeared first on Reactor.

Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates Death and Nynaeve Makes a Discovery in The Gathering Storm (Part 20)
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Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates Death and Nynaeve Makes a Discovery in The Gathering Storm (Part 20)

Books The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates Death and Nynaeve Makes a Discovery in The Gathering Storm (Part 20) Rand finally explains his perspective and mindset to Nynaeve. By Sylas K Barrett | Published on March 24, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share This week in Reading The Wheel of Time, we are covering chapter 31, which begins from Cadsuane’s POV and then moves to Rand, as well as chapters 32 and 33, in which Nynaeve plays detective and learns about Compulsion. She and Rand also have a heart-to-heart that has been a very long time coming. Despite the heat, Cadsuane keeps her hood up as she walks the streets of Bandar Eban. She is keeping to the letter of her banishment, never letting Rand see her face, but she refuses to be driven off by him. She visits an inn she has been to many times before, The Wind’s Favor, and the innkeeper fills her in on all the city’s news and gossip. She is particularly troubled by Quillin’s reports of strange happenings in the city—stillbirths and odd, accidental deaths. She knows this is the effect of Rand’s ta’veren nature, but Quillin has not heard any news about surprising good events to balance out the bad ones. She wonders what it means if the balance the Pattern maintains around Rand is breaking down. After obtaining as much information as she can that might be useful in dealing with Rand, Cadsuane heads down to the docks to observe the distribution of grain, encountering Rand as he rides by with his growing entourage. She feels like she encounters him very frequently while traveling the streets, and, as she turns away, again notices that strange darkness around him that you can’t see when you look straight at him. Cadsuane has realized that she could never have guided Rand; he distrusts Aes Sedai too much, and with good reason. Everything she is doing suddenly feels useless, but then an idea comes to her, and she grabs it in desperation. She goes to see Sorilea and the other Wise Ones, where she confesses her failure. They agree that she has failed, but they blame Rand, not Cadsuane, for the failure. Cadsuane begins to explain her plan to them. Rand spots Cadsuane by the docks, but because he doesn’t see her face, he lets her go. As he surveys the work of giving out the grain, Flinn, and fellow Asha’man Naeff report on the negotiations to decide on a place for Rand to meet with the Daughter of the Nine Moons. The Seanchan have resisted Rand’s first suggestion, so Rand tells Naeff to suggest Falme next. Naeff and Flinn both express reservations about taking the meeting so far inside Seanchan territory, citing the way the Seanchan look at the Asha’man and the fact that they have the male a’dam. When Flinn gets more insistent, Rand uses his trick of saying nothing and intimidating with his gaze. Nynaeve comes to ask him what he has decided, and expresses her disapproval of Falme as a choice. Rand is confident they won’t attack, but Nynaeve reminds him that he can’t know for certain that they won’t have another Forsaken with them. He asks about Lan, and Nynaeve admits that she dropped him off in the Borderlands as far from his destination—Shienar and the Gap—as she could. Rand asks if Lan will attack, once he reaches Tarwin’s Gap. Nynaeve answers that she believes he will; Lan thinks that Rand is wasting time, and if he arrives and finds Trollocs gathering at the Gap, he will attack. But she doubts his small army will stand long against the Trollocs. Rand remarks that if Lan does attack, he deserves what he gets, for attacking without the rest of them. He also considers that Lan’s death could serve him, privately musing that if the Shadow’s eyes were on Lan’s attack at the Gap, Rand could take them by surprise elsewhere. Nynaeve is furious, but she controls her anger, telling Rand simply that they will talk about it later. Rand returns to the mansion, and the room where he has the Domani throne, which was discovered in the possession of one of the merchants. He joins Rhuarc on the floor to discuss the hunt for the members of the Council of Merchants; they now have four, and two others have been confirmed dead. Rand still needs four more before he has enough for them to elect a new king. He declares that they must have four more of the Council in their possession by the end of the month, and lectures Rhuarc on the importance of order. Next, Milisair Chadmar is brought before Rand. She reports that the messenger from the King is dead. Rand deduces that she left him to rot after she was unable to extract the information she needed. He orders that she be thrown into the same dungeon in which she imprisoned the King’s messenger. If Graendal sent the messenger, Lews Therin said suddenly, I’d have never been able to break him. She’s too good with Compulsion. Crafty, so crafty. Rand realizes this is a good point. Still, he isn’t positive that Graendal is in the country. If he had been able to examine the messenger and find Compulsion in his mind, that would be the proof Rand is looking for. After a visit to the wall of Bandar Eban to watch a ghostly procession of the undead that appears nightly, Nynaeve goes out into the streets, making her way through groups of refugees sleeping rough in the street. The sound of a child coughing leads her to a family with a sick little boy, and she uses a combination of herbs and Healing to save him. After upbraiding the family for not seeking out Aes Sedai Healing and making them promise to encourage others to go to the sisters, she returns to her walk, and to worrying about Rand. She knows that the old Rand is still there under the hard man he has become, and remembers that Moiraine was the only Aes Sedai Rand really listened to. While Nynaeve is not prepared to grovel as much as she perceived Moiraine to have groveled, she does realize that Rand might see Nynaeve as one of those manipulators, and that she needs to change that view of herself. She decides that she needs a way to show Rand that they are working towards the same goals. An idea strikes her, and she decides to investigate the death of the messenger. She goes first to find the dosun, or head housekeeper, of Milisair’s household. She recruits a few soldiers she finds idling about, and also some servants she discovers playing dice in the kitchen. Because she doesn’t want anyone wandering around and gossiping about her activities, she treats everyone strictly, making them feel as if they might be in trouble. From the dosun, Nynaeve learns the location of Milisair’s dungeon, where her questioner also lives. She makes the soldiers and the servants come with her and the dosun, despite their reluctance to be out at night. They travel to the area of the city known as the Gull’s Feast, eventually reaching a chandler’s shop, and Nynaeve uses the One Power to silence the sounds of the soldiers breaking in. They surprise three men, taking them prisoner. Leaving one soldier to stand guard upstairs over the chandler’s young apprentice, she convinces one of her prisoners to tell her where the dungeon is, and everyone descends a ladder to the hidden room below. Nynaeve is disgusted by what she finds there, including a chest full of torture devices and Milisair Chadmar languishing in a dark, filthy cell. After establishing which of the men is the leader, she interrogates him, leaning on her authority as an Aes Sedai and keeping the man off balance with her accusations. It is only after she promises amnesty that the questioner, Jorgin, agrees to answer. Jorgin is insistent that the King’s messenger was not killed either intentionally or by accident—he just died. As Nynaeve starts to believe him, she is disheartened to realize that all her efforts have been for naught. But as they are all leaving the dungeon and heading upstairs again, she decides to Delve Milisair, and is shocked to find poison in her system. Nynaeve Heals Milisair of the effects of Tarchrot leaf poison, which she knows is the sort that could be given in several doses to make it look like the victim died naturally. Further interrogation leads to the discovery that the apprentice is in charge of feeding the prisoners, and that Jorgin only recently, and very conveniently, found him among the refugees. Nynaeve rushes upstairs to find that the apprentice has escaped the soldier left to watch him, but when she goes out into the street she finds the servants she left there have caught the boy. Followed by Min, Rand strides into the room where Nynaeve has the apprentice, Kerb, bound with Air. He demands to know why Nynaeve has woken him in the middle of the night, declaring that anyone else who did such a thing would have been sent for a flogging. But his attention is caught when Nynaeve tells him who the boy is, and what she suspects him of. Rand glanced at Nynaeve, and she could almost feel him connecting the comments to figure out what she had been doing. “You Aes Sedai,” he finally said, “share much with rats, I have come to realize. You are always in places where you are not wanted.” Nynaeve tells Rand that she found the poison among Kerb’s things, and that there is something in his mind, a block of some sort. She suspects the King’s messenger also had this block. Rand tells her that it is Compulsion, and that this discovery may be exactly what he needs. “I have little skill with this kind of weaving,” Rand said with a wave of his hand. “I suspect that you can remove Compulsion, if you try. It is similar to Healing, in a way. Use the same weave that creates Compulsion, but reverse it.” Nynaeve badly wants to fix this deep wrongness within the boy, but she worries about hurting him. She carefully sets about undoing the weave of Compulsion that is layered across the boy’s brain, making her own reverse weave and setting it down atop the other. It takes a long time and it exhausts her, but in the end, she is able to get rid of every last line of the weave. Exhausted, she collapses into a chair. Kerb appears dazed, empty, and Nynaeve realizes that something is still very wrong with the boy. Rand tells her that Graendal’s Compulsion is so powerful that it replaces almost every part of someone, destroying their personality and identity. What appeared to be a personality before was mostly just the Compulsion, directing Kerb’s actions as Graendal saw fit. Rand asks Kerb again for the location, calling on any small part of Kerb which resisted Graendal, and is rewarded with two words; “Natrin’s Burrow.” Kerb dies after uttering the words, and Rand tells Nynaeve that the small need for revenge was the only thing keeping him going. Nynaeve, horrified, prods Rand looking for some sign of grief or guilt; he admits to her that he knows becoming this hard and heartless will destroy him. He tells Nynaeve about how it would be possible for a mountaineer to climb to the top of Dragonmount, but that no one has ever done it because they know it would take every ounce of their strength, and there would be none left for the return journey. That is how Rand’s life is as well: He must spend every ounce of himself in order to reach the Last Battle, to win against the Dark One, but he knows there will be nothing left afterwards. “That’s the key, Nynaeve. I see it now. I will not live through this, and so I don’t need to worry about what might happen to me after the Last Battle. I don’t need to hold back, don’t need to salvage anything of this beaten up soul of mine. I know that I must die. Those who wish for me to be softer, willing to bend, are those who cannot accept what will happen to me.” He looked down at Min again. Many times before, Nynaeve had seen affection in his eyes when he regarded her, but this time they were blank. Set in that same, emotionless face. He goes on to praise Nynaeve’s work in finding Kerb, and she surprises herself by admitting that she did it because she wants him to trust her. Rand answers that he does trust her, more than most; Nynaeve may think she knows what is best for Rand, even against his own desires, but she also cares about him. Rand tells Nynaeve to keep dreaming, to keep wanting him to live, on his behalf. Then he picks up Min, who has been sleeping on a bench while all this is going on, and carries her from the room. Nynaeve is left stunned, wondering how a man could be so self-aware and know so much, yet be so ignorant. She is also left wanting to refute his argument, knowing that Rand might be making himself stronger, but that he is also in danger of losing all reason for caring about the outcome of his fight. And yet she cannot find the words to do so. I experienced a profound sense of relief when Rand finally told Nynaeve exactly what his perspective is, and why he is making the choices he is making. One of the most difficult parts of watching Rand’s journey—for me, anyway—has been seeing him be constantly misunderstood. He has been accused of arrogance in moments when he was being self-protective, suspected of being power-hungry when he was just desperate to control the uncontrollable, and he has been distanced from his friends and allies because of the fear surrounding male channelers and the Dragon Reborn specifically.  Rand certainly has been guilty of arrogance, self-aggrandizement, and selfishness. Some of his withdrawal from others has been due to trauma, some due to the paranoia induced by the taint and by Lews Therin’s presence in his mind. But while he hasn’t always handled his circumstances in the most healthy or productive way, it remains true that his circumstances are dire indeed, and since everyone else also has their hands full with the dangers of the world, nobody except Min has really had time to sit with Rand’s feelings, including Rand himself. (An aside: Back in chapter 29, Rand wonders where Aviendha has gone, and thinks about how he had hoped to spend some time with her. He doesn’t know why she has been avoiding him, though he wonders if it has something to do with Min’s presence. He then dismisses the thought, since it is safer for Aviendha if she keeps her distance, but one can’t help but wonder what kind of hurt and feelings of abandonment might be lurking just outside the void of Rand’s new cuendillar mindset. Aviendha, Min, and Elayne are the only people who can have some sense of how Rand feels, and their bond (bonds?) were an opportunity for him to feel less alone. Of course, we the readers know why Aviendha kept to herself, but even if Rand also knew why, it might not help him feel better about the situation. He still would see himself as being harmful to her, especially since Aviendha expressed as much, early on in their relationship. Anyway, all this is to say that I’ve been wanting Rand to be honest and express his viewpoint to someone for at least the last four books, and while Nynaeve knowing how he’s thinking isn’t necessarily going to change Rand’s level of reserve, there may be a sort of relief in it for him, in time if not immediately. His confession may also help Nynaeve understand how better to approach him in the future. After all, it was already her goal to show him that they were working towards the same ends. Now she knows why his ends don’t include saving his own life, or his own soul. She can now move forward with that understanding, prioritizing, at least to his face, the work of uniting in preparation for the Last Battle and finding a way to win it. And perhaps, if she continues to maintain her trusted position in his mind, she will be able to introduce the idea that has already occurred to her: that Rand’s success may be contingent on him continuing to care about the outcome of his battles, and that his current iciness may be detrimental to that care. These chapters make a point of having both Cadsuane and Nynaeve consider how beaten down Rand has been by the world. It comes off much more authentically from Nynaeve than Cadsuane, however. After all, Nynaeve has always been protective of Rand, and even her bullying of him comes from a place of care for his well-being, as Rand himself acknowledges at the end of chapter 33. Now that she has been made Rand’s advisor and no longer has her attention divided between Rand’s needs and Lan’s, it makes sense that she is stopping to consider afresh the problem of Rand al’Thor. When Nynaeve considers that the “real” Rand is hiding underneath this hard persona because of how often he has been beaten and kicked—both literally and metaphorically—it feels more like a thought that has always been there and that she is finally tackling head-on, rather than a sudden realization or leap in understanding. Nynaeve knows Rand. She knows that he was stubborn and didn’t like to be pushed long before he ever suspected that he might be the Dragon Reborn. She has been present for much of his journey and has seen the ways in which he has been twisted and changed by his experiences. And she herself has had a journey that is not dissimilar to Rand’s. She also grew up in the Two Rivers, and had her entire identity wrapped up in who she was to Emond’s Field. While Egwene was excited to see the larger world and to embrace her ability to channel, Nynaeve was frightened of her abilities, and resisted the change in circumstance and identity that being a channeler foisted upon her. She misses the Two Rivers, as Rand does, even though she knows she has outgrown it. In this way, Nynaeve is perfectly poised to understand Rand. Not only does she have a good perspective to start with, but she gains a lot of understanding, and is willing to listen, in her last conversation with him. Because Nynaeve is one of the few people that actually believes cares about him, she is uniquely poised both for insight, and action. Cadsuane’s musings about the pain that Rand has suffered feel less authentic to me than Nynaeve’s. Not that I think Cadsuane is incapable of the realization that she comes to—that Rand’s distrust of Aes Sedai is completely fair and understandable, and that nothing she tried with him would have worked because of it—but it seems to come entirely out of left field. Perhaps we are meant to believe that her dismissal as his advisor has caused something to click in Cadsuane’s brain, but there wasn’t really anything in the narration to suggest it. Instead, she seems to go from thinking of him as a foolish, stubborn boy who is being obstinate and rude for no reason to thinking of him as a man who has so much trauma he can’t really be expected to listen to her. I would have appreciated more of a gradual transition in Cadsuane’s perspective than this; all in all, I would argue that Sanderson’s portrayal of Cadsuane is less nuanced, and therefore less interesting, than Jordan’s. But let’s go back to Rand being resigned to his death for a moment. The homage to The Return of the King is obvious in Rand’s metaphor of climbing Dragonmount, the volcano that symbolizes the failure of an Age’s greatest hero. This feels fitting since Jordan began the series by homaging much of The Fellowship of the Ring, making me wonder whether the exact metaphor was in Jordan’s notes or something Sanderson came up with. In The Two Towers, during their passage through the Dead Marshes, Frodo makes a remark to Sam that they are unlikely to need their bread to last for a return journey. He expects they will be killed the moment the One Ring is thrown into the fire, and that the best they can do is keep themselves nourished enough to finish the journey, if even that is possible. Sam continues to hold onto some hope until The Return of the King, when he looks out over the wasteland of Gorgoroth and realizes “the bitter truth” that, once their task is complete, they will be left abandoned and hopeless in that unforgiving landscape. I do wonder what this moment in The Gathering Storm foreshadows for Rand. Frodo and Sam could never have imagined that Gollum would be instrumental in the destruction of the ring, or that giant eagles would show up to lift them off Mount Doom even as the mountain was erupting and falling apart. Rand cannot see any hope for himself, any way of surviving the fate that he believes prophecy has foretold for him. But that doesn’t mean he is right. There is still a chance for an unexpected ally to emerge precisely at the moment he needs it most. We know his blood will be on the rocks at Shayol Ghul, but that doesn’t mean his death. We know that Alivia is going to “help Rand die” but that could be a metaphorical death, or even a rebirth. We know that Rand must face the Dark One, but we don’t actually know that he won’t have backup when that moment comes. There is also the aspect of Rand that wants to give in just because he’s tired. The main loss of hope seems to come from an inability to imagine himself having the strength to survive the confrontation with the Dark One, but also from being so exhausted that he doesn’t want to survive it. At the end of chapter 31 he considers that he is beginning to look forward to death as much as Lews Therin does, and back in chapter 29 he ponders how much he feels he deserves to die.  Death no longer worried him. Finally, he understood Lews Therin’s cries to let it end. Rand deserved to die. Was there a death so strong that a man would never have to be reborn? This level of despair can’t be fixed with bullying, or nagging, but it also isn’t going to be soothed with a little bit of care. Rand may be hanging onto sanity because he knows that a few people still care about him, but if Min’s love isn’t enough to draw him back, his knowledge that Nynaeve wants him to life won’t be enough, either. And yet. And yet… Rand asks Nynaeve to keep dreaming, keep hanging on to hope for him. And I know she will, as will Min and Elayne and Aviendha. As will Egwene, once she has room for that consideration. And even Cadsuane, in her way, wants to save Rand for his own sake. She does have that last hail Mary of a plan to save him, which we will see revealed in due time, although I’m not optimistic anything she comes up with will work. Rand is too suspicious of her, and unless she can hide her involvement entirely, any plan she puts into motion will be tainted in his eyes. Maybe she can let the Wise Ones execute it for her. All in all, I feel like Cadsuane is less nuanced as a character in Sanderson’s writing than she was in Jordan’s, though I am very interested in the revelation that she feels like she is running into Rand more often than seems coincidental as they both move about the city. Rand also observes this—he believes she is following him—which makes me wonder if some aspect of the Pattern is trying to manipulate them in some way. We also get more confirmation in this chapter that the balance of Rand’s ta’veren effects is being affected in some way, almost certainly by the taint of the True Power. I’m curious whether the dark aura and the unbalancing of his effects continues simply because he touched the True Power once, or if he is still technically connected to it in some way even if he isn’t actively seizing or wielding it. I’m also deeply curious if the Dark One knows about this connection. We know that, at least under ordinary circumstances, the True Power can only be used if the Dark One allows it. Rand seems to have gained Moridin’s permission through the strange connection of their colliding balefire, which means either the Dark One thinks it’s still Moridin wielding it or he knows that Rand has the ability and cannot revoke it, for some reason. Well, actually, I guess there is a third option, which is that the Dark One does know that Rand has accessed this power and intends for Rand to be corrupted and destroyed by it, just as he would have been if he had not been able to cleanse saidin. Given how Rand feels now that he has used the True Power, this feels like a plausible hypothesis. I’m not sure if Rand was only able to sense the True Power because of his despair (does it call to you in your darkest moments?) or if he could sense it because his sense of the Source was blocked, but either way, I don’t think it’s necessary to uncouple the idea of his coldness and near-dispair and the use of the Dark One’s Power. I’m also curious if there is any silver lining to Rand’s new ability; like balefire, this new power seems to bring only destruction, but can it be used against the very being that is its source? I’m also annoyed that there isn’t another name for the True Power, because it’s not a true power at all; it’s like, an Anti-Power, or something. But I suppose nobody except the Forsaken ever had a reason to name it. Rand now has confirmation that Graendal is in Arad Doman, which I believe we already knew. I also thought we knew that she doesn’t have Alsalam, but that is because I mixed him up with Mattin Stepaneos, king of Illian, who Elaida kidnapped a while ago. We saw him interact with Egwene in the White Tower back in Knife of Dreams. Which means that Alsalam is actually still unaccounted for. I don’t believe we have seen mention of him among Graendal’s captives, which doesn’t mean he isn’t in her grasp, but does raise some interesting questions. Will Rand be able to track the King down? And if he is in Graendal’s clutches, will he be as reduced as Kerb is, his mind stripped and compressed by Compulsion until there is basically nothing left? That would be inconvenient for Rand, I suppose, but hopefully he’ll be able to get some kind of election going either way. Rand does tell Nynaeve that he can’t be bothered worrying about what comes after the Last Battle, and yet he is still acting as if he cares. He himself questions his motives in chapter 31, asking himself why he cares who rules Arad Doman or what happens after he dies. He hasn’t hesitated in taking charge before, or in setting his troops to bring order into foreign lands, so he could easily take the throne himself, or appoint a ruler. So why isn’t he? Why is he spending time here, when many people around him are insisting that he needs to move on, when he himself feels the Last Battle bearing down on him? It’s not just because he needs a place to wait while he plans to meet the Seanchan. I believe some part of him, perhaps unknown even to himself, still cares. We see a voice whisper to him when he is thinking about Lan, reminding him that Lan is his friend and that he shouldn’t abandon the man. Rand ignores it, focusing on what Lan’s fight at the Gap can and can’t do for his own strategy, but the fact that the voice is there at all matters. Just like the gentle way he treats Min matters, even if he no longer looks at her with the same love Nynaeve used to see in his eyes. Also, I loved the little “Why weren’t they married?” aside in Nynaeve’s narration, showing she still has room to fuss over that, even with all the dark and terrible drama that is unfolding. Quillin was also a delight; there isn’t really much to say about him, but the introduction of this random oddball of a character was really fun, and I appreciated his inclusion. Especially since Sanderson’s world-building doesn’t tend to be as full and detailed as Jordan’s. I like thinking about how this world is on the precipice of a possible apocalypse, but weird retirees with strange ideas about what people want from a tavern still exist. Finally, I was struck by Rand’s comparison between Aes Sedai and rats. This is a very powerful simile, considering that rats in this world aren’t just pests, but can be informants to the Dark One himself. It feels like such a casual insult, but it’s actually deeply cutting, and very evocative of how Rand feels about Aes Sedai, even more so than when he’s directly pondering if he can trust them or having flashbacks to his torture. I was a little surprised that Nynaeve let it pass without at least an internal comment. Even at the end, he has to remind her that he’s choosing to look past her actions only because they ended up helping him out so much. Next week we’re moving on to chapter 34 and 35, in which we’ll take a brief interlude to visit Mat before Rand finally gets to meet with Tuon. No telling how that is going to go, but if I had to make I guess I’d probably say… not well. See you then![end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: Rand Contemplates Death and Nynaeve Makes a Discovery in <i>The Gathering Storm</i> (Part 20) appeared first on Reactor.

Boarding School Trouble and Trauma: Spoiled Milk by Avery Curran
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Boarding School Trouble and Trauma: Spoiled Milk by Avery Curran

Books book reviews Boarding School Trouble and Trauma: Spoiled Milk by Avery Curran Alexis Ong reviews “a must-read for boarding school fiction junkies.” By Alexis Ong | Published on March 23, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share If figure skating is competitive gender performance, then all-girls boarding school is a godless pageant where gender isn’t so much a rehearsed performance but an endless clown car of ordeals. Enid Blyton’s boarding school books—hello, St. Clare’s and Malory Towers—were a formative part of my preteen reading, and it is through this cloying miasma of midnight feasts and social grooming and stiff-upper-lip camaraderie that I went off to real girls boarding school where it became immediately obvious that Enid Blyton was full of shit. But that’s the beautiful thing about this very specific subgenre: If done well, it’s wholly transportive for the right reader. It can revive a powerful sense of escapist nostalgia for a time when these stories—trite and absurd (and in Blyton’s case, sometimes problematic) as they are to contemporary eyes—actually made you feel something.  Avery Curran’s debut, Spoiled Milk, is one of those books. The novel follows the recollections of Emily Locke, a precocious sixth-form student at Briarley, a small rural boarding school for girls in the late 1920s. It is with slight trepidation and sick glee that my eyes soak up the words “Church of England” and immediately flash back to the pastoral foundations of my own Anglican education—the smell of wet wool, cold chapel pews, our stone replica of Caedmon’s Cross that traveled from the bowels of North Yorkshire to Australia—because now Spoiled Milk is personal. Emily, though, loves Briarley. Hers is a tiny, tight-knit class—just six seniors—overflowing with all the hormonal neuroses and messy politics that drive teens at this age. Things start to spiral when Emily’s best friend Violet dies in a suspicious fall; Emily is convinced that the young French teacher, Mademoiselle, is the murderer. Cue foul omens like worm-riddled fruit, bad well water, and hallucinations. The girls visit the village medium, who gives them an ominous warning that some inexorable thing is coming.  I was initially wary of Spoiled Milk in that stupid soliloquial way where any story that overlaps with personal experience is always going to chafe against petty indignance and righteous exceptionalism; at one point my most petulant thought was, “these girls aren’t nearly shitty enough to each other,” as if there’s some real-life yardstick for “realistic” teenage spite. I sulked at Emily’s insights, either because she was being impossibly mature or because she reminded me of my high school’s interpersonal dynamics. This is, of course, a me problem, but getting jumpscared by these childish ancient feelings after 25 years felt like a weird meta bonus, given the themes and setting of the book.  Buy the Book Spoiled Milk Avery Curran Buy Book Spoiled Milk Avery Curran Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget Curran takes time to establish the ritual and detail that this subgenre demands, because elaborate formalities and careful hierarchies are a defining part of the English institutional atmosphere. Generally speaking, this whole domain is an age-old petri dish of racist, sexist, classist monstrosities that rely on rather homogenous tropes. At best, it can be a magical realm where children are free to discover their inner potential among peers; at worst, it’s a grooming pit designed to sustain conservatism, trauma, and abuse. Armed with a strong understanding of this rich and miserable history, Curran injects fresh blood into the traditionally rigid paradigms of English girlhood narratives.  There’s a lot to parse in this book about gender and queerness and the dynamics of young women packed away like uniformed sardines; Curran taps into every trope and stereotype about boarding school girls while largely avoiding flat cliches. There is the idea that girls are meaner to each other than boys, wielding microdoses of spite and cruelty like a thousand hidden needles; there are countless shows and books and films about the complex cruelty and sociopathy of teen girls who play the long game. There is the age-old trope of Schrödinger’s lesbians, that an all-girl community must be a hothouse for sapphic deviance, and one can only really tell if one actually wants to look. It was hard for my mind not to drift toward Sophia Coppola’s adaptation of The Virgin Suicides; we have our very own Lux Lisbon in the form of Violet, whom everyone at Briarley is obsessed with.  It is this peer fixation and competitive infatuation that jumped out at me: the all-encompassing strain of teenage limerence that defines so much of high school. It was a huge part of my own experience, watching friends and enemies alike attach themselves to popular girls on a chaotic spectrum of queer desire and coming-of-age crushes—platonic and romantic—that seem to evaporate after graduation. Emily’s observations run from petty and childish, critical but peppered with self-doubt, to jarringly honest and relatably impatient; Curran does a great job of balancing the staid atmosphere of a period drama with a protagonist who stays sharp and light and appropriately stubborn and myopic (we’ve all been there). Everything about Emily is urgent and fierce in her hardheadedness, lending a useful momentum to the narrative; Emily’s friends are, in comparison, the voices of reason to her dogged need for answers. Then, of course, there’s prim, obnoxious Evelyn, the object of Emily’s disdain, who of course, evolves into something more. As for the spiritualist themes of the book, this is also something we did in my first year of boarding school, although ours was just a Ouija board scrawled on a sheet of A4 paper and a coin for a planchette. I can only say that had I been alive during the 1920s in an all-girls boarding school with superstition and religious hysteria coming out of the walls, I would have found new ways to scare myself to death (complimentary) on the regular. Curran mostly keeps the supernatural elements of the story loose, focusing on the core group of friends; the idea of a Scooby-Doo ride-or-die squad was such a huge selling point of Enid Blyton’s stories for young me, at least before I was rudely shoved into a reality where I had to line up in a single file to go to dinner. This is the sort of story that would sink under the weight of over-exposition—the subtle fantasy of camaraderie in a place that actively worked to diminish it—and honestly the less we know about why and how Briarley became a bodysnatchers-style epicenter of eldritch terror, the better. At first blush, Spoiled Milk might feel like it offers neat analogies to teenhood and queerness and growing up: a story about a tortured, forced farewell to childhood and order. There is a lot to unpack about everything—Englishness, gender, western civilization, sexuality, patriarchy, class, and so on—but few concrete answers. There is nothing neat and clean about Emily’s journey, and there shouldn’t be. Later on in the book, Emily becomes a little more concerned with the end of England, or the world, but Curran keeps our focus on this small microcosm of terror to great claustrophobic effect. My biggest personal takeaway was how much Spoiled Milk made me reflect on my own experiences with (all of the things above) on a larger scale, and how well Curran’s style engages with the reader’s own history; it feels strikingly like a conversation, perhaps even a confession, that resonates with the present. It is a refreshingly self-aware debut, built on a rich tradition of gothic cultural capital as well as history, and a must-read for boarding school fiction junkies.[end-mark] Spoiled Milk is published by Doubleday. The post Boarding School Trouble and Trauma: <i>Spoiled Milk</i> by Avery Curran appeared first on Reactor.