Review: The Wetworks Miracle by Caleb Sierra
Stelliform Press: Hamilton, Ontario (2026)
My Quick Take: A disquieting novella that packs a world in a few pages, with so much theme and meaning, without sacrificing the creepy horror vibes.
Thanks to Stelliform Press and NetGalley for a gifted copy for review. All opinions are my own.
***
“I am a thing unknown to myself. I am a sin in my waking.”
On a distant world, humanity is once again fleeing an apocalyptic planetary disaster by accessing a “gate” to a pristine planet. Over many years humans cultivate the art of Husbandry of the new planet’s native flora, much of which constitutes a giant tree that they have named the Root. Those who observe carefully have noted many oddities, inducing disappearances and dissections, and an increasing human subjugation to the Root.
The Wetworks are one area of the colonised continent, and an undesirable posting for Husband Young, who holds great antipathy for the Root after his young love was taken by the Root years ago in a sort of sink-hole scenario. In the Wetworks, the peasantry toils to gather and process the Root’s waste products in order to make fertilizer for the rest of the planet’s farming areas.
Author Sierra’s The Wetworks Miracle is absorbing and beautifully balanced, with decent world-building in a novella format, albeit with many details left unknown; the backstory is hinted at without being fleshed out. I was okay with that, as I am willing to sacrifice the granular details for a compelling and rich short narrative. The vibes were right on, a curious mix of Puritanism and steampunk that made it easy for me to slip into the world in my imagination.
The horror was visceral, with a bit of gore at times, but also an eco-horror of wood and roots taking possession of human bodies. It explored the transformation of self to other, a fantastical evolution of the human body to something new. Our comfort with the reality of evolution is subverted when humans are not the “dominant” species and evolution means loss of the self as we know it: a becoming that is subsumed by a greater, arboreal power.
There was psychological horror too, with a surprisingly thorough exploration of religiosity through the character of Father Stewart, a priest who was born and raised in this new world. He speaks to God, and laments the wayward beliefs of the peasantry who work the fields and have begun to adapt to this new world order, with the Root more centred in their worshipful regard than the traditional God of the past.
“Chapels empty but for aged workers. Almost no one writes their own prayers anymore, preferring to let their Husband overseers submit on their behalf.
Worse yet, I began to notice casual mysticism building around the Root, of all things. Among the workers, phrases like ‘Should the Root allow’ and ‘If the Root is kind this year’ were not uncommon.”
Yet, he feels compelled to carry out Frankenstein-like experiments in order to understand the workings of both God and the Root, in order–or so he says to justify himself–to hear God’s voice. His experiments are bloody and macabre, but he justifies all in the name of God.
One of the key scenes involves the parade of innocents to an execution ground, judged guilty for being different by Husband Young, the lead administrator of the Wetworks. The crowd jeers with its mob mentality. This “witch hunt” horror trope is one of the most affecting to me, with its demonstration of injustice and helplessness.
There is some relief from the oppressive tone with lovely and hopeful characters, and it was interesting to see that these folks were the ones most accepting of the Root and, ultimately, to change. Jenny is a young woman whose mom has been taken by the fatal "mungshroom" addiction and labours in Husband Young’s household as a servant. She becomes a mother to a new type of offspring, and takes it all in stride. She’s a woman who isn’t afraid of reality, and sees curiosity and knowing the truth of things as better than self-delusion. The Beast, a creature of this new world, is affable but persecuted; and another transformed being, Jon Heap, is a curious and intellectual sort.
It was cool to see how God and the Root became gradually conflated in the story, a comment perhaps on cultural evolution and our need to believe in something greater, no matter what it is, and what makes sense in the context of our lives.
I think the crux of the story may be summarised in a quote from a presumed long dead “biosophist” on the planet: “It’s an irony I’m obliged to appreciate: the old country was built on the industry of its natives. We took their land, their magics, and their gods, and discarded the people. Just as we had done to the country before that, and worlds beyond number before that. But the Root will not be used. We finally found a place that outmatched our methods. Somewhere the clay moulds us.”
Caleb Sierra has managed to pack so many interesting themes and characters into a short novella, and he’s succeeded admirably. Rather than become confused and muddied, he has created unique voices and a disquieting setting, yet flavoured the story with some beauty and hope. Perhaps for humanity in The Wetworks Miracle there is something miraculous indeed in not continuing to colonise and destroy, but to become something transformed. A new beginning, and different.
My Quick Take: A disquieting novella that packs a world in a few pages, with so much theme and meaning, without sacrificing the creepy horror vibes.
Thanks to Stelliform Press and NetGalley for a gifted copy for review. All opinions are my own.
***
“I am a thing unknown to myself. I am a sin in my waking.”
On a distant world, humanity is once again fleeing an apocalyptic planetary disaster by accessing a “gate” to a pristine planet. Over many years humans cultivate the art of Husbandry of the new planet’s native flora, much of which constitutes a giant tree that they have named the Root. Those who observe carefully have noted many oddities, inducing disappearances and dissections, and an increasing human subjugation to the Root.
The Wetworks are one area of the colonised continent, and an undesirable posting for Husband Young, who holds great antipathy for the Root after his young love was taken by the Root years ago in a sort of sink-hole scenario. In the Wetworks, the peasantry toils to gather and process the Root’s waste products in order to make fertilizer for the rest of the planet’s farming areas.
Author Sierra’s The Wetworks Miracle is absorbing and beautifully balanced, with decent world-building in a novella format, albeit with many details left unknown; the backstory is hinted at without being fleshed out. I was okay with that, as I am willing to sacrifice the granular details for a compelling and rich short narrative. The vibes were right on, a curious mix of Puritanism and steampunk that made it easy for me to slip into the world in my imagination.
The horror was visceral, with a bit of gore at times, but also an eco-horror of wood and roots taking possession of human bodies. It explored the transformation of self to other, a fantastical evolution of the human body to something new. Our comfort with the reality of evolution is subverted when humans are not the “dominant” species and evolution means loss of the self as we know it: a becoming that is subsumed by a greater, arboreal power.
There was psychological horror too, with a surprisingly thorough exploration of religiosity through the character of Father Stewart, a priest who was born and raised in this new world. He speaks to God, and laments the wayward beliefs of the peasantry who work the fields and have begun to adapt to this new world order, with the Root more centred in their worshipful regard than the traditional God of the past.
“Chapels empty but for aged workers. Almost no one writes their own prayers anymore, preferring to let their Husband overseers submit on their behalf.
Worse yet, I began to notice casual mysticism building around the Root, of all things. Among the workers, phrases like ‘Should the Root allow’ and ‘If the Root is kind this year’ were not uncommon.”
Yet, he feels compelled to carry out Frankenstein-like experiments in order to understand the workings of both God and the Root, in order–or so he says to justify himself–to hear God’s voice. His experiments are bloody and macabre, but he justifies all in the name of God.
One of the key scenes involves the parade of innocents to an execution ground, judged guilty for being different by Husband Young, the lead administrator of the Wetworks. The crowd jeers with its mob mentality. This “witch hunt” horror trope is one of the most affecting to me, with its demonstration of injustice and helplessness.
There is some relief from the oppressive tone with lovely and hopeful characters, and it was interesting to see that these folks were the ones most accepting of the Root and, ultimately, to change. Jenny is a young woman whose mom has been taken by the fatal "mungshroom" addiction and labours in Husband Young’s household as a servant. She becomes a mother to a new type of offspring, and takes it all in stride. She’s a woman who isn’t afraid of reality, and sees curiosity and knowing the truth of things as better than self-delusion. The Beast, a creature of this new world, is affable but persecuted; and another transformed being, Jon Heap, is a curious and intellectual sort.
It was cool to see how God and the Root became gradually conflated in the story, a comment perhaps on cultural evolution and our need to believe in something greater, no matter what it is, and what makes sense in the context of our lives.
I think the crux of the story may be summarised in a quote from a presumed long dead “biosophist” on the planet: “It’s an irony I’m obliged to appreciate: the old country was built on the industry of its natives. We took their land, their magics, and their gods, and discarded the people. Just as we had done to the country before that, and worlds beyond number before that. But the Root will not be used. We finally found a place that outmatched our methods. Somewhere the clay moulds us.”
Caleb Sierra has managed to pack so many interesting themes and characters into a short novella, and he’s succeeded admirably. Rather than become confused and muddied, he has created unique voices and a disquieting setting, yet flavoured the story with some beauty and hope. Perhaps for humanity in The Wetworks Miracle there is something miraculous indeed in not continuing to colonise and destroy, but to become something transformed. A new beginning, and different.
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