Fantastic Metropolis

With Leviathan 2 as with Leviathan 1, we had no desire to promote a particular school of writing, or to invent one. We did not want to be defined as “slipstream” or as “magic realism.” We did not want to be associated with the New Wave (although we liked the New Wave) nor with humanist SF nor with any resurrected idea of a new “Last Dangerous Visions.” If we wanted to be defined as anything, it would probably be “surreal,” an idea reflected in our covers by Alan M. Clark and Scott Eagle. We definitely did want to push the envelope and be experimental, but it wasn’t our entire reason for being. In short, we wanted to publish unusual, beautifully-written stories that displayed the best virtues of what is typically thought of as “genre” and what is typically thought of as “mainstream literary.” But with no didactic agenda.

Leviathan 3

Leviathan 3 is our great Decadent volume—our anthology of excesses. Armed with a new co-editor—Forrest Aguirre—and a new publisher for the Ministry (Prime), we decided to take the anthology to yet another level, abandoning forever the idea of a logical set of themes that might map the entirety of fiction. Using Zoran Zivkovic’s library stories as the anthology’s backbone, we set out to find stories that generally reflected the same themes. I have just been introduced to Decadent literature in the last couple of years and Forrest had been steeped in it for quite awhile, so it seemed natural that a Decadent element would enter the anthology. Especially because the Decadent movement and the Surrealist movement had a lot in common—cross-pollination made a lot of sense.

Praise for Leviathan 3 has gone much the way of previous volumes, although with the sound turned up, so to speak: praise has been more extravagant, brickbats more stern. As Stepan Chapman, the only writer to be in all three Leviathans, likes to say, “There’s something in Leviathan 3 for everyone to hate.” And to like.

The Future of Leviathan

Leviathan 3 has also signaled a new period of transition for the anthology series as, for the first time, I will be the editor leaving the project. Forrest Aguirre will take over sole editorship of the anthology with Volume 4 (theme: Cities). The Ministry of Whimsy itself has a new publisher: Prime, headed up by Sean Wallace. Designer Garry Nurrish will join Duane Bray in creating distinctive covers and interior layouts. Much to Sean’s credit, he didn’t have an instant stroke when we told him Leviathan 3 was 482 pages long—a true leviathan. (Nonetheless, I would have liked to have seen the look on his face at that moment.) Through Prime, the future of the Leviathan series seems assured, as does a more regular publishing schedule.

As for why Leviathan should continue to exist and to publish idiosyncratic fiction, I think the answer is clear: no anthologies currently in existence, or most magazines for that matter, have the same focus as Leviathan: an unflinching ability to publish truly surreal stories. No other publication is willing to take a chance on the stories Leviathan is willing to take a chance on. Even more importantly, the emergence of writers like L. Timmel Duchamp, Michael Cisco, Rhys Hughes, and Steve Aylett, and the renewed interest in the work of writers like Stepan Chapman, M. John Harrison, Zoran Zivkovic, and Rikki Ducornet has greatly enhanced the chances of Leviathan becoming even more popular. Of course, such an environment also breeds imitators—those who either consciously copy Leviathan’s example or do so unwittingly because of excitement about new writers who express the same aesthetic. (And as we may have, in some ways, copied the example of New Worlds.) All of which is good news for those who care deeply about realizing fantastical literature’s full potential. There can’t be enough outlets for work of this nature.

For me personally, working on Leviathan has meant an enriching exchange of creative ideas with the numerous co-editors, artists, and design people who have worked on the anthology. It has also meant meeting people I would never have met otherwise—for example, Joe Nigg, Richard Calder, L. Timmel Duchamp, Tom Winstead, Stepan & Kia Chapman, Ursula Pflug, and Richard Winters. Even more importantly, from a purely selfish perspective, without Leviathan I might never have met Eric Schaller, who has been my main artistic collaboration on my Ambergris cycle of stories. My thanks to everyone involved with these anthologies. From day one, the experience has been a pleasure.