2006: Odyssey (McDevitt, Jack)

Overdrawn at the Idea Bank since Day One (2/5)

The fifth book in the Academy series is just as bad as the previous four. I initially liked The Engines of God when I read it four years ago, but I bet if I were to pick it up now, I'd find exactly the same faults as I did with the rest of the series: painful word repetition, inane details throughout, padding the pages for word count, and high-handed proselytizing ala Christopher Hutchins. Tack onto this an abrupt knee-jerk reaction to start the novel with a useless sub-plot and, wah-lah, you have yourself a typical McDevitt novel.

Following the incident of stranded space craft, the trustworthiness of Academy's fleet is questioned by Priscilla. The craft should have been lost round Betelgeuse IV but was actually found to be within our own solar system, an engine failure which could have resulted in the death of crew members. The aging fleet is put on hold at the same time when reports of mysterious black orbs, called Moonriders, have been flying past stations of humanity across the stars. Silently investigative in nature, there have been no threats or warnings given by the orbs.

A numerous political moves, Priscilla and director Michael Asquith decide to provide one more mission to track and witness the Moonriders, to prove whether they are projections of idle minds or alien entities policing human activity. Considered to be a routine drop-and-go mission, PR director Eric Samuels decides to take a risk in his humdrum life and tag along with the sultry Greek pilot Valya Kouros, the wide-eyed teen-aged daughter of Senator Taylor, and the loud-mouthed firebrand Gregory MacAllister of Deepsix infamy.

When a giant asteroid is found to be directly aimed at an orbiting construction of a hotel owned by Orion Tours, the finger-pointing at the Moonriders becomes priority and calls for space armament are rampant through world congress. The benevolent actions of Orion Tour's selfless duty of diverting another asteroid and their awkward stance in the middle of its hotel destruction has them under the eye of the ever-vigilant MacAllister.

Somewhere in all of this is Priscilla, who, like in Omega, takes a backseat role in the plot. She's stuck behind her administrative desk directing ships to distant ports, calling in favors from orbital friends, and ordering coffee and jelly-smeared bagels. She and the Academy as a whole should have come out spotless after the rescue of the Goompahs under the attack of the Omega cloud in Omega. But just a few years later and the interest in the space program is waning; funds are being diverted from space exploration to earth conservation. If the Goompahs were so hugely popular (there's even merchandising of Moonriders like the Goompahs in Omega), then why has the interest waned to much?

I mentioned above one irksome quality of McDevitt's novels: word repetition. I've been mentioning in my other McDevitt reviews of his bizarre fascination for describing the height of every character in the novel. In Omega along, I counted the adjective "tall" exactly seventeen times when describing stature. All the other adjectives don't even come close. EXACTLY the same here in Odyssey. "Short" and "little" are both used once, "big" is written twice, "average" is used three times, "small" is used five times... and "tall" is written SIXTEEN times (pages 15, 30, 33, 39, 43, 56, 89, 116, 143, 258, 291, 314, 331, 388, 391, and 392). What the hell is Jack's affinity for describing everyone as "tall"? What's worse than that? How about using "of course" about 90 times... aggravating! Where's the editor?

Other annoyances are his overuse of naming fictional book titles that the characters are reading, specifying every food and drink order, and quoting Gregory MacAllister ad nauseam (McDevitt writing himself in the book?). I hated MacAllister in Deepsix and was thankful when that loathsome character took a far, far backseat in Chindi and Omega. Unfortunately, MacAllister makes a grand reappearance in Odyssey, where his (McDevitt's?) firebrand thoughts are not only heading each chapter, but he also orchestrates an unrelated sub-plot revolving around one man, Henry Beemer, who hit Reverend Pullman over the head with book. Beemer insists that the fire-smoldering hell preached by Pullman has made him neurotic and attempts to frame organized religion as hate-loving idiots.

With one book in the series left on my shelf, Cauldron, I've set the goal to complete the series because my father gave them all to me. I hope either Priscilla bites the dust or the entire Milky Way galaxy is wiped of the human race. One of these two conclusions will energize me enough to give it av3-star rating even with the foreseen annoyances McDevitt has laden like landmines. And the like th previous Academy books, this one is flying off my shelf and going to the second-hand bookstore, where I exchange it for something decent.

1974: Give Warning to the World (Brunner, John)

The cover is warning enough- Stay Clear! (2/5)
From June 10, 2011

Written in 1974 (the same year as his excellent Total Eclipse) near the end of Brunner's prime, I just couldn't pass up one of his novels even if it had a terrible cover displayed here . Tragically, this novel only had a single edition published by DAW (#112) way back in 1974. This is rather tragic because it follows in the footsteps of another Brunner tragedy entitled The Wrong End of Time (1971), also by DAW (#61). Those footsteps include the scathing 2-star rating... rare for a Brunner novel.

Across the street from slum housing, a police stakeout is watching the habits of the red-headed landlady who is suspected of 'serving' males in Soho district with whips and leather. The house she inhabits is home to a elderly lady in the upstairs and Clyde, a Jamaican actor struck with curiosity about the treatment of the young lady next door to him- Sally. Previous tenants have been disappearing and the police are also onto this but they are unable to connect the landlady/dominatrix to the mystery.

When inventor and deep-thinker Nick is driving down the road, the same beautiful but strange lady bursts into his car seemingly involved in a hallucination. She is taken away by her landlord who then locks her in her room. Though she is dirty and depraved of nutrition, she is continually injected with drugs to keep her sedated and confused. Nick discusses the incident with his doctor friend Tom.

Eventually, all the characters meet each other through one way or another, which stinks of luckiness and coincidence, which, again follows in the footsteps of The Wrong End of Time. It's an unbelievable unfolding of coincidence and the follow through of poor choices borders on agonizing. I was nearly yelling at the Nick 'Go to the police!' and 'Stop drawing grand conclusions to specific degrees!' and yelling to Brunner 'Get on with it!' So, yea, it's bit torturous to say the least. It reads like a run-of-the-mill police mystery/heroic savior type of fiction... but then (there's always a 'but then!' in these types of pulp novels) there's a science fiction twist at the last third when it's revealed the planet Earth is in danger. This screams of B-grade sci-fi film quality! It's pathetic for a Brunner novel.

An almost redeemable aspect of Give Warning to the World is the fifteen pages (10% of the novel) where we learn the entire history of the aliens at hand by the monologue of one character (I hate when this happens). The invention of the alien Yem by Brunner is pretty enticing but the novel's plot just has a terrible flow. I really wish he could have re-written the Yem into a more astute novel. Period.

I knew it was gonna be a stinker, but as a Brunner completest I HAD to read it. Now that I'm down with it, it will go the same way as The Wrong of Time- to the dusty shelves of the second-hand book store where many curious souls will eventually lay eyes on the cover and slip it right back onto the shelf. The cover is warning enough to the world to stay clear of the contents within.