The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere – by John Chu

I stumbled upon this short story while looking for speculative fiction about language – or perhaps about queer experiences? Well, why not both?

Synopsys

In a vaguely defined near future, whenever someone lies water starts falling on them from the sky – its quantity proportionate to the entity of the lie. This affects daily communication in many ways, forcing people to navigate the subtleties of semantics and half-truths – as exemplified by Matt, who’s still struggling to “come out” to his traditional Chinese parents.

Analysis

Style – Written in first person, present tense, the narration combines a semblance of objective analysis with peaks of unapologetic emotionality. The inclusion of a suggestive magical element – water either materialising or drying up during each and every meaningful interaction – makes it all sound as if perpetually skirting the line between literal and symbolic language.

As it deals with the complexities of communication, the story is full of reflections on its own use of words, even more so in the context of a multicultural relationship. The text comes with more than a few Chinese words, that are left untranslated even though generally explained, as to preserve both the specificity of each language, and the awkwardness the characters are facing.

Plot Structure – After a brief introduction to the setting, the story consists in a sequence of slice-of-life episodes, with barely any plot to speak of.

Setting – The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere is set in a world very similar to our own, except for the fact that, all of a sudden, gushes of water have started appearing out of thin air whenever anyone spoke untruthfully. While such a fact is realistically bound to have a number of consequences on society (just think about the world of politics and business transactions would be affected, not to mention the judiciary), those are not explored or even hypothesized, as the focus stays on a much smaller scale of personal events and challenges.

Characters – The story opens on the two main characters, Matt and Gus, finding ways to declare their mutual love, with wet-and-dry effects as a counterpoint to their statements. We get a rather quick characterisation of the two young men: we are told that Matt is a Chinese-American biotech engineer, and that Gus is a kalòs kai agathos piece of wish fulfillment (I mean, he’s a very handsome personal trainer who’s also well-read and fluent in Ancient Greek, and whose love for the narrator is as true as the fundamental laws of physics). Their characterisation isn’t particularly fleshed out, not even for a short story’s standards, however their interactions are somehow sweet and endearing – at least, enough to make me cheer for them.

Less satisfying is the portrait of Michele, Matt’s sister and the closest thing we get to an antagonist. Now, I don’t come from the same cultural background as the author, and I’ll just have to trust him on the plausibility of her attitude – because it’s with some unique bluntness that she approaches her brother, insisting he must settle for a loveless marriage with a good Chinese girl, since his boyfriend is too hot for him anyway. But okay, fine, I do not expect homophobes to make sense. I would, however, have appreciated if she had any shred of depth behind her malice. For instance – when she complains he shouldn’t always be allowed to have things his way, is it because she had made personal sacrifices in the name of tradition? So much that she can’t tolerate his brother enjoying more freedom than she does? There seems to be some hint in that direction, but ultimately the story steers in the direction of her just being vile and manipulative for no special reason: not because of her personal grudges, not because she’s the product of a problematic environment, but because she’s a mean sister and she does what mean sisters do.

Themes – The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere is essentially a coming out story, as such mainly focused on personal emotions: on love and angst; on one’s desire of authenticity paired with an equally strong fear of rejection; not to mention the additional pressure experienced by a second-generation immigrant torn between his own desires and the expectation to uphold family traditions that, even though oppressive, are still part of one’s identity.

A very personable story, emotional and true to life, that is however built around a sort-of-magical plot device: that is, the idea of water pouring down on you whenever you tell a lie. Such a plot device leads not only to some poetically touching moment, but to some additional attention to the nuances of language and communication, as declined through multiple languages – for instance, if Matt hasn’t so far been forced out of the closet, it’s just because the Chinese term for ‘loved one’ is gender neutral, so that he’s been able to talk about his personal life with his parents without technically lying.

But language plays a role way beyond the magical gimmick: indeed, at the end the fact Matt’s parents ask Gus to call them ‘poe poe’ and ‘gohng gohng’ is what gives away their understanding, and unexpected acceptance, of the whole situation.

If the premise is thus relevant for the story, it must be noted it isn’t really explored any further than that: not only its nature isn’t explained neither in terms of magic nor of technobabble, its larger impact on society isn’t really touched upon; matters of communication are observed with a decent speculative gaze, but the setting is otherwise imbued with a surreal vibe, that makes it closer to magical realism than anything else.

Overall Thoughts – The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere is an intriguing short story, but not entirely satisfying. The subject is one I care about, and I did enjoy both the inherently bizarre premise and the attention devoted to language and communication. Some other aspects, however, are frankly underdeveloped: I do not care for the debate on what really ‘counts’ as speculative fiction that arose after this story won the Hugo, and I am ultimately fine with what the story does with its worldbuilding; however, if one’s really going the intimate, slice-of-life route, I would at least expect a stronger, less superficial character work. I didn’t mind reading it, but I admit I was hoping for something more.