Water into Wine

by Joyce Chng

When war comes to your planet, everything changes.. perhaps even the meaning of family and identity.


Xin inherits a vineyard on a distant planet, and moves there to build a life… but an interstellar war intervenes. Will Xin’s dreams of a new life get caught in the crossfire? Xin's understanding of family and sense of self must evolve to cope with the changes brought by life on a new planet and a war that threatens everything.

Genres: Science Fiction, Queer, Fiction

144 pages, Paperback

First published September 27, 2017

About the author

Joyce Chng (also spelled Ch’ng) lives in Singapore. They write science fiction and fantasy as well as YA and MG. Their short stories have appeared in The Apex Book of World SF II, The Future Fire and Multispecies Cities. Dragon Dancer (Lantana Publishing) is Joyce’s first picture book, celebrating dragon dancing and Lunar New Year; it was followed by Oyster Girl (Pepper Dog Press), a tribute to their grandmother and the hawker heritage in Singapore. For YA readers, Fire Heart is a fantasy book about swords and coming-of-age. They also write books for adults as J. Chng and urban fantasy as J. Damask. You can find Joyce at their website, or on X and Bluesky at @jolantru.

Reviews

[Francesca Forrest · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a story like a smoldering fire: I found myself talking to people about it and thinking about it long after I'd read it. Externally, Xin is struggling to make a success of a vineyard on a planet faraway from Old Earth. Internally, Xin is struggling to know themself, not merely as a child of their parents or a parent of their children but as a person whole in themself. Their gender fluidity led to a divorce: how will it affect their interactions with people in their new home, especially the assistant they've hired to help with the vineyard?

And then those problems are dwarfed by an external threat: war. First in the news, then on the horizon, and eventually at their doorway.

The story asks, What do you give up and what do you hang on to?

[Mary Fan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Water Into Wine tells the story of Xin, who cultivates an inherited vineyard in the shadow of an interplanetary war. Though the violence is never far, Xin tries to focus on cultivating a life and taking care of their family. It's a story of survival and self-discovery set against a sci-fi backdrop. Narrated in Xin's contemplative voice and written in spare, poetic prose, Water Into Wine is a haunting and atmospheric novella, so mesmerizing that I wound up reading the whole thing in a single day.

Xin is a complex character whose emotions and experiences feel as real on the page as picking up someone's diary. Though the story's set in the far future and on a distant planet, Xin's Southeast Asian roots and culture continue to play an important role in their life... from everyday things like food and names to matters of greater spiritual significance. Language, holidays, and beliefs from Xin's ancestors are all alive and well in their life. It's a wonderful and immersive take on sci-fi, and I was utterly drawn in from the beginning.

This is one of those books that's hard to review because there's so much to it, and I feel like my descriptive abilities aren't up to doing it justice. Every attempt to talk about what I liked and such feels like I'm reducing it to some simplified version. So I'll leave it here and settle for saying that this is a gorgeously written and hypnotic book, and that I highly recommend it.

[Faith Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a novella about what remains of a family and their identity, the refugee flotsam of a previous traumatic war, who inherit a vineyard on a distant planet and move there to start again and spark their renewal. The vineyard is a haven but also a place where they can lose themselves in work and, like true migrant pioneers, take their future into their own hands, just them versus the soil, a sense of control, of peace and continuity, finally.

The vineyard is an island of green leaves in a sea of troubles, around which rival races or colonists soon begin a new conflict, over nothing, in which the family shows very little partisan interest. They hope the fighting doesn’t apply to them, even when the sky lights up with broken ships and burning debris. Leave us alone, they seem to say to the Universe, let us grow, we’ve been through enough. The merlot grapes swell and ripen, uncaring of the soldiers and unfairness that are swirling around the family, encompassing the land and sky, disturbing the peace, distant thunder. The heavy boots of war have not yet crossed the threshold of the vineyard, not yet pressed their carefully tended grapes into the dust but wars and rumours of wars, the ebb and flow of armies like tides wash past them. How long do they have before the unwanted arrive on their doorstep? The external forces, other national identities if you consider yourself neutral, are so numerous and strong by comparison. It’s a story of the growers and the wreckers, but identity too.

The author is Singaporean and it is very difficult to discuss the book without returning to the influence of that island.

Singapore has a national identity composed of four cultural groups (quarters) that have all at one time or another asserted themselves on South East Asia but have now settled into domestic acceptance, cooperate very well and celebrate each other’s festivals. In Singapore, there are so many festivals, sights and hints of incense yet it’s also modern with a crossroads trade port. Co-operation was not always the case in Singapore, at an important strategic position, and it has always been vulnerable and threatened by colossal neighbouring empires. Its independence and post-war success is miraculous. The Straits Chinese are the most numerous settled population (correct me if I’m wrong) but an extraordinary share of Malaysian workers cross over the causeway every day and “invade” the city to work, just as those neighbouring cultures “invade” the Island with their many cuisines. These subconscious suggestions that this beautiful, tropical home could suddenly be taken away from its hard-working families, everything they’d built up could be struck down by a wave, resonates in this book. This is where displaced people have come to be safe and work hard, to make it all better, a shining light that refuses to be just a point on a map in the great game played by external empires. The vineyard in this story is a metaphor.

The islanders adore food more than any place I’ve ever seen, so this is perhaps the best place in the world to find wonderful dishes from multiple cultures, drawing on established trade routes for a myriad of ingredients. Singaporeans are work and family oriented too, very aware of their duties to the older generation. These traits all come through in the book, in which the kitchen is the heart of the home and no weapon can enter it because that would mean something external, foreign and wrong has entered the soul of the family.

Despite the strong cultural identity that the family have brought off-world with them, experiences have taken their toll and Xin, the matriarch, considers herself a patriarch instead. Is that what she is or what the family needs to improve their chances of survival? I was surprised when the story brought out that her gender had been displaced, as I wasn’t expecting this twist and that probably suggests I think in a binary, confined way. Gender change happens to some people whether they have been traumatised or not, some people know from an early age, yet look up Resignation Syndrome in Sweden (currently over 160 cases of inertia and mental withdrawal amongst child migrants) and you can appreciate the psychological impact that stress and trauma has. Xin was pressed harder than she/he ever should have experienced and that leads to consequences.

The imagery works well, with a finger-like tornado spouting out of the sky to pluck people up. When unexpected skills are shown or reactions are disproportionate, adding to the confusion surrounding who people really are and what they did in the past, before they got here. Have they walked away from awful places, cruel allegiances, taken the trail through the cracks in the mountains and entered Shangri-La to start again… yet been followed? What happens when their past catches up? Will anyone in this, truly, be left in peace?

This isn’t your usual piece of military sci-fi, which isn’t a field I’m usually impressed by. It makes you think about family, values and disassociation with what the world external to your family thinks is worth dying for. Growth and renewal is a side in this and it has a quiet strength of its own. This story is a unique outlier, quite unlike other science fiction. In the reviewing margins between four and five stars for writing craft, it deserves recognition for originality and the way in which it has drawn on deeper roots to give the household credibility. If you want to read something different in science fiction, a discovery, this surely is it.

[Psyche Ready · Rating 4 out of 5]

This short, sweet, sad book really got to me. A story of family, the bonds between parent and child, distance from home, the lifelong resonances of trauma, and hope.

This is a story of a non-binary person who maintains a vineyard far from earth. They (qar) keep it growing while war happens all around them, and struggle with the human experiences of love, comfort, sex, identity, livelihood, family, and self while the bombs fall. We never find out much about what's going on in the wider world--it's all about the family and their neighbors, as it is for most of us in the real world.

The book moves quickly, and it took me a minute to settle in with the rhythm of the short chapters. Once I did, it took me over and I couldn't put it down. Chng writes beautifully, in effortless prose, about loss, grief, and humanity. I finished it weeping.

[Claudie Arseneault · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was such a beautiful, poignant story. WATER INTO WINE chronicles Xin's life after inheriting their grandfather's vineyard and moving there with their three children and mother, of trying to survive and make the vineyard thrive through times of war, of forging a new life and finding one's self. I particularly really enjoyed the passages about Xin's gender and how they completely avoid 101 to simply give the readers Xin's experiences.

I love the tight focus of this story, how the war is a looming cloud over the vineyard but something the characters (mostly) don't directly participate in. The prose is rich but straightforward, the atmosphere captivating, and it creates an overall really intimate novella. Would have loved more of it.

[Joanne Rixon · Rating 5 out of 5]

(The main character of this book is named Ping Xin and uses a neopronoun, qar.)

First of all, I really loved this book. It's a lovely and haunting story about love and loss, about trauma and healing. Ping Xin is deeply emotional, is traumatized and human, and I loved following qar through qar journey first to the vineyard qar grandfather bequeathed to qar and then through the war that washes over the vineyard, and Ping Xin's family, like storm-tossed waves. The agricultural setting is perfect for the many delicious descriptions of food and family traditions, as well as the disruption of bombings and burnings that harms the vines but does not destroy the vineyard entirely. Although the prose is clear, functional, even sparse in places, there is a lot of poetry in Ping Xin's story and qar self-realization that healing is hard and long and can't be rushed.

Second of all, this is 100% a perfect illustration of what is so fucking broken in the sub-genre of military SF. This is a story about a person in a war on a far-future distant planet. There are missiles and battles and lots of death, including deaths that, spoiler, Ping Xin ends up feeling very responsible for. We see the aftermath of torture and the effect of violence on both children and adults. The economics of the war are very realistic! But this would never be classified as mil SF because it doesn't fulfill the American narrative of war: a young man has to leave home so he can use high-tech weaponry to bomb people on another planet; if the book is high brow mil SF, it might follow him on his return home, where he can't adjust and feels sad about what he's done.

Speculative fiction is supposed to be *imaginative* and yet fanboys will get real bent out of shape by books that question that power fantasy, the allure of being the one who feels really awful about his finger on the battle-mech controls that flattened someone else's country. We want our experience of war to be the American experience, that is the experience of inflicting war on other people. It's a provincial mindset that is, frankly, embarrassing and small. Chng's book upends every convention of the sub-genre and is the only kind of mil SF I'm interested in reading.

[Rachel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Water into Wine is a Sci-fi novella about a futuristic earth. The main character Xin is newly divorced who finds out they have inherited her grandfathers beloved vineyard on a new planet. Xin and family move to the new planet with hope for a promising new life, but bliss is cut short as war moves on the horizon. Xin deals with many issues throughout the story such as sexuality, family, and self-discovery. The book also details and expresses the horrors that war can bring from the people who are on the front lines and at home. Everyone is affected in different ways and we see how war takes a toll on the main characters especially.

The novella has a smooth pace and is a fast read at 92 pages. My only complaint would be is that I wanted more background from the characters and that the dialogue felt stagnant at times. The book depicts life before war, during, and after. It is also infused with Chinese culture the main character refers to their native language and partakes in traditional ceremonies and food of their culture.

This novella displays the wide array of human emotions. And I especially appreciated the lyrical narrative and strong metaphors used to express to readers how each character was feeling. I don’t know if I could make the decisions as the narrator did to stay on a planet in the midst of war knowing the misfortune that might fall. Water Into Wine is a somber tale, but very engaging.


FTC Disclaimer: I received this book from Annorlunda Books in exchange for a fair and honest review.

[Natalie Waddell-Rutter · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a literary short story in a science fiction setting. I say that because the thoughts and decisions of our narrator are more important than the actions occurring around the vineyard. Yes, it's on a distant planet, but there's still a vineyard and a family and the loss of a parent and a lover. What makes it an interesting story is Xin - Xin was a woman who had been living as a man for some time and seemed to be transitioning back to being a woman. Xin came up with their own pronoun, qar, to describe their unique situation. The other complementary fact that sets this story apart from so many is the culture of Xin's family. They are Asian, with Chinese and Fujian influences which crop up throughout the story, in food, names for each other, and even how to pray that the war leaves them in peace. Overall, a story that fits the publisher's goal - it makes you think.

[Lene · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a world where fascism and war draw ever closer for so many people, this is a short yet very chilling book, leaving me shaken.
The protagonist's experience of just wanting to live their own simple life, working the soil and honoring their elder, but being bulldozed by meaningless wars and losing almost everything and everyone, is described both with empathy and the cold detachment of the protagonist, who just has to get on with their life. This distance is what makes the book bearable after all.
In the world of wars there are no happy endings, only survival. Eventually, the protagonist does even a little better than that. That is all the hope this book can offer.

[E.D.E. Bell · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a punch of a little book. Xin travels to a new planet to care for an inherited vineyard just as war breaks out. What follows is a tale of violence, desire, and loss - a primal scream at the cruelty of humanity over a clenched fist of resolve to hold the pieces one can, including one's own identity. Trans. Angry. Unflinching.

A space opera where depictions of technology and the future are atmospheric and highly metaphorical; they serve as a setting for the storyteller's tale.

Content notes for war, loss, and moments of graphic violence.

[Ouzelcrump · Rating 1 out of 5]

Confusing. Future space warfare but they use jeeps and fight with WWII tactics and hardware? Other than one detail, WWII had women fighting. The space army (navy?) in this short story is all boys' club. Not sure the wirter knows what he/she is doing, if you want realistic military scifi this isn't it. They don't have the internet or interplanetary comms, they have letters.

Flat, boring chars. Xin is too whiny. ZzZZzz.

[Sidsel Pedersen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quite insistence

Water into wine, has a quite dark insistence that borrows and wants to be read... To be witnessed.
It's not the kind of story I normally enjoy but the quite dark passion is intriguing.
A snippet of a life lived during wear

[Becca Evans · Rating 5 out of 5]

A touching story about a war-torn planet and a simple vineyard. Family and love, tragedy and hope.

[Runalong · Rating 5 out of 5]

Science fiction does love the battles – the wars in the stars (no trademarks are infringed!); the land battles, the starships exploding in the skies but we perhaps forget about those who just find themselves in the firing line. In this bittersweet novella from Joyce Chng we focus less on the armies and the tech but a reminder that there are human lives being devastated by both sides.

Xin’s grandfather decided they should own the vineyard he has on the remote planet Tertullian VI. She narrates the story of the family arriving and how over the months to then come a Secessioniest War in the Allied planets spreads through space and ultimately hits the planet too. The hardship of understanding farming and running business gets intermingled with a simple farm being pummelled by armies who are more focused on the prize than the people they wish to save/liberate. Xin discovers love, horror and how far she is prepared to go to protect her land and her family.

The story is told through Xin’s voice. Xin is not a natural farmer but finds the prospect of owning and running the farm a challenge, they can’t refuse. Their children and mother accompany them into working how exactly wine gets produced and, in some ways, this feels a very relaxed matter of fact narration but then we see explosions in the sky; acts of terrorism against refugees and a casual cruelty that both sides dish out if they feel you betray their values. Its that sense of dawning horror as we see children ant to be soldiers; livelihoods ruined, and people being tortured less for secrets and more than they just can. Chng has a subtle way of making you see the changes in the world but at a local life level. You invest yourself int this little household and hope they can survive what the two factions throw at them. By the end the pain of war and what this means is heartfelt.

Xin is a fascinating lead narrator – currently transitioning to be a man Xin is trying to focus on farm and family but an intriguing relationship with the stoic and sometimes secretive Galliano develops that is fraught with tension of many kinds. The world is vividly brought to life with scenes of food and religion and family customs. All painted to show you what is being lost by war. It’s a very haunting experience.

This a short tale but one I think would be good for readers to vie and remember that war is not always a special effect extravaganza and be it in Syria, Yugoslavia and Iraq will always mean local people who just really wanted to make a living may find themselves in a whirlwind that will change everyone.

[Daphne Lee · Rating 3 out of 5]

[Some minor spoilers ahead]

Xin inherits a vineyard and decides to embark on a new life (and career), packing up and moving, with her mother and children, to Tertullian VI.

I found the story an easy read, and I was eager to turn its virtual pages as I found Xin an interesting, intriguing character, and I was eager to find out more about her … him?

Sadly, when the book ended I still had lots of questions about the character.

I had assumed that Xin was a woman (personally, I prefer female characters and somehow, I felt that Xin was female), but in the fourth chapter, the character announces that they have begun to ‘bleed again’. Apparently, Xin has been been living ‘as a man’ for some time and is on hormone therapy. However, living on Tertullian VI seems to have provoked a reversion to their female state that is more than biological: Xin starts growing their hair and, in Chapter Two, mentions wearing a nightgown.

For me, Xin’s gender identity is the most interesting thing about Water Into Wine and I wanted more space and words spent on it. I realise that the author might not have intended this to be the focus of the book, but I do feel that Xin’s search for identity is a central theme and I read it as a big reason for their move to Tertullian VI and their determination to make the vineyard work: new identity, new life, new purpose.

It would have enriched the story and also, the portrayal of Xin if this aspect of the character was explored in greater depth. I was also curious as to her mother’s thoughts on her decision (it’s mentioned that there is no objection, but I felt that more could have been said), as well as her children’s. The man Xin embarks on a relationship with says he is OK with Xin’s chosen gender (a chat with the author informs me that Xin sees themself as non-binary), but I would have liked there to be be more discussion between them, especially as Xin’s partner is revealed to have his own issues with his identity.

I have other questions: I want to know about the vineyard and I wonder why Xin doesn’t talk about it, or wonder about it. Perhaps she does, off the page as it were, but I want to know why it’s not being used; why it isn’t a working vineyard and if it ever was. I didn’t quite buy the way things fall almost effortlessly into place, and I felt that the lack of details makes Xin’s successful foray into the wine-making business somewhat implausible and a little too convenient.

Another thing I would like more of are the riding birds, the triches, which the author, Singaporean Joyce Chng, tantalisingly mentions a few times. We do not get to see them in action, nor do we even get a description of their appearance. Perhaps there will be a sequel, or another story set in the same universe and the triches will fly then.

They are just a detail though, and not essential to the plot. The war that breaks out is more significant, and I also wanted to know more about that. I felt it was important to develop this plot point more fully, considering what an impact it has on Xin’s life. As it is, it seems like the war is there simply as an excuse for the various kinds of conflict that are introduced into the story. Once again, I would like to see some of the issues that are raised explored more thoroughly. For example, Xin’s mother is vehemently against firearms, yet uses one quite expertly — what’s the story behind that? I am intensely curious.

I get it that 'Water Into Wine' is a novella and its length would not allow for everything I’ve mentioned above to be expanded upon. The solution, I feel, would be to simplify the plot and storyline; better yet, this book should be a novel. It has enormous potential and just needs room to grow.