This is an intriguing short story collection, though they stories didn't connect emotionally for me as much as I was hoping. I appreciated the writing and the quirky premises (and the queer focus, of course), but I'd been anticipating loving this more than I did, for whatever reason. I'm super excited to stock it in the store I work in, though.

Where do I even start with this book? Ok, so it's a collection of short stories, which is a tough structure to review because there's always one story you like best and others you don't enjoy as much and you'll keep comparing them to each other. I think I loved about 3 of them here, and the others I appreciated for their abstraction but disliked as well for the very same reason. I wasn't really in the mood for it either. I think I'm just not the right type of reader for this collection, even if I applaud the author for his writing and his ideas! It doesn't happen always, but in this case, I can easily admit I'm the one who's in the wrong so I'll be rounding up my rating.

My top 3:
- 57 Reasons...
- Conspicuous Plumage
- The Beasts We Want to Be

Boys, Beasts & Men by Sam J Miller will be published by Tachyon Publications on 14 June 2022. I received an early copy through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Boys, Beasts & Men is a short-story collection, which are always difficult for me to review, because part of me wants to just review the stories individually, but I also know that, as a collection, they're part of a whole, and care was taken to determine what stories would go in, and in what order. This collection was well-chosen, and the title is a perfect summation of what the stories are about.

There's a wonderful triple punch in Boys, Beasts & Men- "Calved," followed by "When Your Child Strays from God," and finally "Things With Beards." The first two stories work well together, both stories of parents learning more about their children and dealing with issues of their own. "Calved" was devastating, both the world it's set in and Thede's father trying to connect with Thede and the consequences of that. "When Your Child Strays from God" was a more hopeful story of parental connection, and had some absolute stunners of sentences in it. Miller says he wrote it right after "Calved," and the two of them are a fascinating conversation (also- I love that there's a section at the end where Miller talks about each of his stories). "Things With Beards" doesn't really have much connection with the first two stories, but it follows them, and the three of them are my favorite in the collection, so. It's a continuance of John Carpenter's The Thing The Movie 1982, and it's about fighting for police reform, and it's about passing, and more- it's a lot of stuff I really like, and I was delighted and intrigued.

I also really enjoyed "Angel, Monster, Man," because I love stories about how symbols mean different things to different people, and myths becoming real, and all that jazz. The collection has a framing device throughout, and the transition from the second to last framing section to the last story to the final framing section was excellent.

My biggest problem with this book is that the starting story, "Allosaurus Burgers," is the one I found the weakest. I read the first three stories, and an hour later couldn't remember anything about "Allosaurus Burgers," which was pretty disappointing, considering it had a dinosaur in it and also was the start of the collection. It definitely didn't ruin the book, but it did color my reading of the rest of it.

Over all, it's a strong collection of stories with themes I'm really into, dark and interesting, and I'm interested in checking out Miller's other works.

This is an excellent collection of short stories. Having read Blackfish City, I enjoyed returning back to the wonderful literary voice that Sam J. Miller inhabits with science fiction with a healthy dosing of existential crises. My favorite stories include a dinosaur residing in rural US, an examination of spirits who inhabit homes and the unhoused, a drug-induced lens by which a mother tries to understand her son, and a self-aware couch who tells the stories of all the people it has encountered. Another element I really appreciated was the interludes between each story that, by the end of the book, helps the reader see the entire collection in further clarity. the author's notes at the end that quickly summarize the thoughts behind each story provided an even more profound lens for me to read the stories. A huge thank you to Tachyon Publications for inviting me to review this book. I'm looking forward to more books by this author!

Requested from Netgalley mainly for having an introduction by Amal El-Mohtar, who as co-writer as one of the best SF books of the past decade, seemed like a signpost worth following. But once I got stuck in I realised that, Miller having such an unprepossessing name, I had in fact read and really liked two of these stories elsewhere, without the moniker staying in my brain as one worth keeping an eye out for. Hopefully a whole book's worth will be enough to get past that hurdle in future. Those two were the climate change tragedy Calved, which I couldn't bear to reread, and Things With Beards, which I could. Now, since I first encountered the latter, I have read another current SF writer doing a Thing's-eye sequel/reinterpretation of John Carpenter's icy classic, and if I'm honest, I did prefer the other one. But that was Peter Watts' The Things, so the bar is pretty bloody high here, and Things With Beards is still very good. Also, and this goes for most of the stories here, very gay. Specifically, an angry, revolutionary queerness, the sort which is deeply sceptical of the idea that being able to settle down in suburbia with 2.4 kids like the straights is much of a victory. Occasionally, I wondered if this might not be a bit of an easy fantasy of outsider chic, 'be gay do crimes' badges extended to story length without quite answering which crimes exactly are OK, and why those ones – most notably in The Heat Of Us, which reimagines the Stonewall riot with pyrokinesis. But that's followed by Angel, Monster, Man, which uses a similar timeframe and New York setting to much greater effect, imagining a tulpa of all the talented boys who died too soon and too little known thanks to AIDS, but who doesn't work out quite the way his creators hoped. Here, it's clearer that society's urge to control and the countervailing urge to freely fight and fuck aren't evil and good, but "simply two different forces, two kinds of energy eternally interlocked" – and not only did this story work much better for me, but its light even made its predecessor more satisfying too, as I realised that of course, The Heat Of Us had also shown a cost to that great psychic upwelling, I just hadn't paid it enough attention.

There's a lot of that here, stories with surface hooks which seem like they're going to be enough to justify the piece, only to twist around and snap something else into place. Most obviously, the linking narrative which slots between the stories proper, where a lot of modern collections would put author notes (here relegated to the back, but perfectly happy there), and which more than earns its place by leading the reader on with its bite-sized morsels of lust and danger – two things that often intertwine in this collection. Such that I almost feel bad letting on here that as well as all that, it's luring the reader in to do something else altogether too. The opening Allosaurus Burgers is a story that could easily have been done as well-made, broadsheet-praised litfic, about a divorced couple and their kid, the way they've all been damaged by the situation – but as Miller's note correctly observes, dinosaurs always make a story better, and it's immeasurably improved for having them all displaced from the tale's centre by a time-lost dinosaur with more personality than the models ever had, "Curious and mistrustful, not particularly smart, a little like a seagull that wants to steal your food." There's a glimpse of Ann Darrow's life after the events of King Kong, half-echoing Caitlin Kiernan's Ape's Wife, and a piece narrated by a sofa, but over and over two themes recur: the terrifying allure of sex, and the utter shittiness of late capitalism. Which, let's face it, are both pretty big deals, aren't they, as themes go? As the story in which children in care rent out their headspace for cloud storage puts it, "Any business model based around poor people making bad decisions out of ignorance and desperation always works." Though I think my favourite treatment of the theme was the one in which the obscenity of the sub-prime mortgage crisis is rendered in even sharper relief by taking place in a world where household gods are a recognised fact of life. And then just when you're starting to get a wee bit worried because of how for too many people nowadays, this legitimate disgust with capitalism can tip over into forgiving the sins of the other lot, there's the reassurance of The Beasts We Want To Be, though this is probably the only sense in which it could be described as reassuring, given it's a memorably brutal affair in which Pavlov Boxes make the Russian Revolution even more of a hideous betrayal of the people it purported to help than it was in our world.

Thank you, Tachyon Publications, for allowing me to read Boys, Beasts & Men early!

I'm not new to Miller's writing, having read some of his previous work, and this debut collection is another proof of his masterful craft. I devoured the short stories featured in this collection and I still want more, despite becoming completely undone after each reading experience. Really a brilliant collection.

Like all anthologies, Boys Beasts and Men is a mixed bag, with several stories I would give 4 stars, while there are some that I would give 3... Most of the stories are set in the past, and this works wonderfully with the author's ability evoke a nostalgic atmosphere. The three standouts for me were Allosaurus Burgers, Conspicuous Plumage and Shattered Sidewalks of the human Heart, a story that takes place sometime after King Kong had his fall.. Definately a collection that has made me wish to read some of Miller's novels

"When the worst thing you can possibly imagine happens, you're free from the fear of it for the rest of your life. But sometimes the worst thing you can imagine isn't the worst thing that can happen."

Reading this book was like riding a ferris wheel for the first time. You've heard it's great, you have been seeing people talking about it in mostly excited tones, you're pretty sure you're going to love it. You've seen it compared in good light with other swings you've loved. But when you finally get on it, you realise that maybe, you were not the best choice for this experience as you're shit scared of heights and get nauseated way too quickly.

What I'm trying to say is - this book was written in a peculiar, beautiful style. I loved the chapter titles. I loved the horror infused into the queer stories. But at the end of the day, I did not enjoy reading this book. Not all short stories made an impact on me, but I still appreciate the message and speculative execution of those messages.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for providing an eARC of this book.

This writer is a master. Sam J Miller is GREAT.
I hardly say that but i LOVED the writing, it was horrorific, cruel, harsh, sometimes too raw but also humorous, witty and straightforward. It felt like it talking to a friend on acid while discovering yourself through the forest.

A collection of short stories that are each so atmospheric and unique, it really just blends together to form a sort of queer, magic, horror, science fiction and amazing storytelling picture. Each story is so fascinating and creates about a mood that just captures you. I had a great time reading this and it really does queer representation and horror so well, it explores relationships and such and its just, go read it. Thats all I have to say, go forth!

*Thanks Netgalley and Tachyon Publications for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review”*

In this short story collection, Sam J. Miller take us to many different worlds, places full of lights and shadows where men and monsters can coexist (sometimes figuratively, others quite literally). Despite all their differences (both in topics and genres -we find more fantasy based stories, besides more sci-fi based ones), we can see a common threat that ties everything together, and that’s the thing line between what it means to be human and what it means to be a monster, the thin line between light and shadows.

Boys, Beasts & Men is the perfect collection for fans of short stories with a spin, a twist of magic, or the shiny expectations of sci-fi tales. It’s perfect for those who crave more adult stories with queer men at the front and center…. And those who just want to find stories that will make them think about everything and anything!

Some of these stories creeped me out. Some broke my heart. And others just broke me. The one thing they all had in common was that each and every one of them made me feel.
Each one was a queer force to be reckoned with and, although they were all vastly different in theme and genre, they were tied together by a shared style which gave them in turn a shared soul. As though they were always intended to be gifted to the world together in a single book.

Miller is a powerhouse in prose. Absolutely beautiful stories tied together with gorgeous, heart-striking writing. Some stories stand out more than others, The Beasts We Want to Be, The Heat of Us: Notes Toward an Oral History especially; This is to be expected in a collection such as this, but it felt more lopsided - as if some of the stories had, not more to say, exactly, but more to love. It was often hard to connect to these characters and tales, some in fault of them being formatted as short stories in the first place. It is hard to engage with this book, but it is easy to fall in love with Miller. I am eager to see what he has next in store.

Source of book: NetGalley (thank you)
Relevant disclaimers: none
Please note: This review may not be reproduced or quoted, in whole or in part, without explicit consent from the author.

Urgh, there needs to be a word for, like, that sinking feeling you get when you’re not the right person to review a book but you kind of have to try because them are the rules. So let me start off by saying: I am not the write person to be talking about this book. First off, I admire short stories more than I enjoy them—and I really shouldn’t reading them, except I know they’re a, y’know, a thing and I do kind of think it’s important to keep pushing against the boundaries of what limits your own interactions with art. Secondly, this was my first experience with this author, which is entirely my own ignorance I hasten to add not a weird dig (the first 10% of his book is literally page after page after page of how brilliant he is, followed by an introduction Amal El-Mohtar), and I don’t think Boys, Beasts and Men is necessarily the best introduction to his work: some of the stories actively reference his other work and I guess there’s part of me that always feels a short story is, like, a quickie in the fire escape with an author. Whereas with a novel they take you home, make you breakfast in the morning and sometimes promise to call.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that I wanted to love these stories and I didn’t love them. I admired them, I appreciated what they were doing, I recognised the talent of the author: didn’t quite get what I was looking for emotionally-speaking. Which, y’know, is my own damn fault for going for a quickie in the fire escape.

What these stories are, though, is incredibly queer. Although, to me, it felt a very US-centric understanding of queerness, both in terms of the cultural reference points, and the aspects of identity it took as foundational. I hasten to add that this is an observation, not a criticism, but I found it genuinely interesting the degree to which I felt simultaneously spoken to and alienated. The alienation, I think, sprang not from the differences (I think the degree to which queerness not just internally but externally is something we don’t talk about enough in our rush to crowd-sourced homogenisation) but for what I came across to me as the unquestioned assumption that these experiences and touches were universal.

Anyway, these stories are all queer, set in a SFnal aligned version of the world as we might just about be able to recognise it, and united by themes that, err, when I wrote them out just looked like a list of abstract concepts. But, like, love, prejudice, masculinity, beauty, tenderness, violence, exploitation examined through this explicitly queer lens. While the stories are not connected, or even set in same time or within the same vision of the future, they build on each other and reflect each other like a good concept album. There’s a framing device, too, in which a young man in bar picks up or is picked up a hot but faintly sinister stranger who … uh … forgive the slightly inelegant word choice … infects him with the power of stories. It works but it also feels a bit blunt.

And, honestly, I think working but feeling a bit blunt is where I’m at with most of these stories? The least successful of them, while beautifully written, ended up feel either one step too obscure (Sun in an Empty Room, for example, is told from the perspective of a couch, which, and forgive the failure of empathy here, didn’t end up doing much for me personally) or one step too obvious (Shucked is a privilege-metaphor body-stealing story). And the ones that really drew me in tended to leave me wanting more in the unsatisfied rather than tantalised sense. We Are The Cloud, for example, posits a Black Mirror-esque future NYC where the impoverished essentially sell their brain processing power to companies. Between that, and the bare sketch of a relationship between the narrator and another, I felt I was kind of licking the bones of this story. Similarly, The Beast We Want To Be is set in Russia during the Communist revolution: there’s this truly horrific toxic masculinity allegory backstory type thing where young men are conditioned via devices called Pavlov’s Boxes to embody the ideals of the State and, maybe, develop super powers. Part of the plot here involves the relationship between the narrator and his immediate superior, a kind of Pavlov’s Boxes wunderkind. Unfortunately, much like We Are The Cloud, the relationship so very lightly sketched that its impact on the narrator felt muted and insufficient to drive the action of the story beyond its themes of resistance, surrender, and loss.

And I do kind of realise that I’m sitting here probably sounding like I have a terminal case of romance reader being like “but I needed more from the relationships”. But relationships—or if not relationships then connections—are, like, a theme, dammit. Like, a major deal is the way empathy can act as form of resistance, even rebellion, against the various forces that seek to control marginalised people, whether that’s social or government, or even just personal hate or prejudice.

For me, the story I liked best—and I sincerely fell in love with this one—was also the one that, on the surface, seems least calculated to appeal to me. Conspicuous Plumage is set in the aftermath of a murderous gay-bashing. The heroine (the victim’s sister) goes on a sort of road trip to the place where her brother died in order to come to terms both with the way he died and with his loss. It’s sort of anti-revenge story (in contrast to one of the earlier stories, 57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides, which is also kind of anti-revenge story but told as a revenge story and, again, to me ran aground on its own brevity) and (with the exception of When Your Child Strays From God which I liked but found one-step too blunt) I think the most explicitly hopeful of all of the stories in the collection. Again, this probably says more about me than about the stories.

I’m aware it’s probably odd to describe a story about some girl’s murdered gay brother “hopeful” but it doesn’t, you know, dwell, and the magical elements (everyone just kind of has powers maybe) functioned well in metaphor-space without feeling like they needed more detail. This is very directly a story about empathy, not so much empathy for people who commit terrible acts, but about being open to the beauty and the vulnerability of those around you even in the wake of grief. Of all the relationships in these stories, I found the ostensibly straight one between a dead gay boy’s bereaved sister and the damaged boy she convinces to take her to the site of her brother’s murder the most affecting. It’s unexpectedly tender and—unlike many of the other relationships portrayed in these stories—allows both characters to recognise each other’s pain in ways that allow for meaningful connection, not just exploitation:

“There was no safe answer. Nothing that wouldn’t hurt him. Nothing that wouldn’t crack that lovely face down the middle. I’d been about to say I don’t know, it’s just something I overheard someone saying, but I saw now that this would hurt him even more. Even if it was the truth. To be reminded that he was gossiped about, to hear again how stories were passed from stranger to stranger, would be too devastating for fragile, private, little Hiram Raff.”

In any case, the more I think about these stories, and the connections between them, the more I find things to appreciate and ponder over. It’s more than enough to make me want to seek out the author’s full-length novels, but not quite enough to help this collection cross the line from something I can recognise the value of into something I unabashedly love for myself. They are, however, impressive in their scope and exquisitely written. And I do think it will be love for many readers.

Do check trigger warnings before embarking. Some of these are very dark.

I never really pegged myself for a short story kind of person, but because I got this as an ARC I decided to give it a try. I was not disappointed. This author’s way of writing was absolutely beautiful, and pulled me in with every sentence. I devoured this book in under a day, and I look forward to reading more from this author. While most of the stories had similar undertones and plot points, they were all so different that it felt like bouncing between worlds. I also loved the science fiction aspect of it all. I would definitely recommend this book!

It's a beautiful, odd, queer collection of stories. What if an dinosaur was being held in a cage nearby? What if you had powers, like Carrie? What if Ann Darrow was real and you met her? What if you suspected a stranger swapped bodies with your boyfriend? What if a totalitarian state reconditions you and you're stuck halfway between a human and a beast? What if… wait a second, this is not how I imagined the queer version of Frankenstein, but I guess I'll take it.

All for these stories are connected by a thread of a larger one. It's hard to say which story was my favorite, because I loved almost all of them. I really enjoyed Calved, where the author constructs an alternate history scenario where Americans are refugees in other countries just to tell a story of a father and son falling apart. I loved Shucked, with plays with the idea of an Indecent Proposal and the psychological or possibly supernatural consequences of such, and Shattered Sidewalks of the Human Heart, which picks up the story of King Kong decades after the giant ape was killed. Most of these stories borrow from tales we know to offer something new.

Sam J. Miller is a very good writer and I can't recommend these enough.

I received this book for free for an honest review from netgalley #netgalley

Sadly this book was not for me.

An excellent collection of stories. I read a lot of short stories-- on their own, as part of magazines, anthologies, or collections like this one. This book actually took me quite some time to finish because I kind of hated the first story and dropped it because of that. Having finished it, it feels kind of out of place.

I liked the majority of stories in this (which is a rarity for short story collections), but it took me until about 1/3rd into it before I started really loving it. These stories are exactly what's on the tin- exploring boys loving boys, literal beasts and monsters but also the monsters inside of us. It's unabashedly queer, alwas hard-hitting, and although they felt a bit one-note at the beginning it became a varied bunch of stories by the end. Would definitely recommend.

Just drop the burger story.

INDIVIDUAL REVIEWS FOR EACH STORY:

Allosaurus burgers was a funny story, but not really my kind of thing. Feels like a Scalzi short. [2/5]

57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides was an excellent Stephen King-esque story in terms of content but more experimental (told through a list). Really enjoyed this one. [4/5]

We Are the Cloud was DARK, but not the whole way through. Loved the world. [3.5/5]

Conspicuous Plumage

A story of grief. A small story told well. Mostly enjoyed the characters in this. [4/5]

Shattered Sidewalks of the Human Heart [4.5]

Loved this one. A cab driver gets an inconspicuous guest in his cab... King Kong's girl.

Shucked

For $10,000, would you give someone control of your body for an hour? Or... Longer? [4/5]

The Beasts We Want to Be

Exploring superhero-esque experimentation on people during times of war, from the perspective of one who has been experimented on. [3.5/5]

Calved [5/5]

A tragic story of a father desperately trying to get his son to love him again.

When Your Child Strays from God [4/5]

This is a great pairing with the previous story! It's about a mother trying to understand her son, and "save" him from the path he's currently on. Paired with some interesting drug concept, it makes for a nice story.

Things With Beards [3/5]

The Thing story about the monsters inside us. Not bad.

Ghosts of Home [4.5]

This story feels like a spiritual sequel to Open House on Haunted Hill. It's a similar tale told differently. Houses have spirits, and abandoned houses get lonely. What happens when the 2008 banking crisis hits, and many people lose their home?

The Heat of Us: Notes Towards an Oral History [4/5]

An alternative history account of Stonewall, where the queer people at Stonewall who fought back were also supernatural. A celebration of celebrations.

Angel, Monster, Man [4/5]

Another chilling piece, this time about the AIDS epidemic and how the government handled it (read: didn't handle it). An imaginary person, some fictional figurehead for the revolution, seems to become real.

Sun in an Empty Room [3/5]

A very musical story!

A gorgeous, emotionally devastating wreck of a collection. "Calved" destroyed me so profoundly I couldn't sleep and had to stop reading for a day. "Ghosts of Home," which imagines the 2008 mass evictions sideways, through the bank-appointed caretaker of the home spirits of the foreclosed houses is my favorite and I feel most indicative of his strengths as an author- politically incisive, emotionally resonant spec fic that surprises and gut punches.

I absolutely loved Boys, Beast & Men!
I know it's not for everyone but I've always loved short story collections and this book was no exception.
The writing in this book was just so good and I'll definitely be checking out the authors other work.
I also loved how all the seemingly random stories connected.
I really do highly recommend this book.
Thank you Netgalley and the publishers for giving me the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review.