Sociological impetus concedes to plot twists (3/5)
This was Boyd's first novel back in 1968 and part of a trilogy, of
sorts, based on classic myths. Myths have never been my forté and nearly
all of the novels which heavily rely on myth connotation are lost on me
(Delany's Einstein Intersection to name one). With novels like these, I
try to adjust the plot's pressure from the pillar of mythology to the
load bearing pillar of science fiction. Sometimes the load is just too
much (i.e. Einstein Intersection) and the house of a novel's plot comes
crashing down with me shoulder-shrugging in a carefree yet disappointed
manner. Thankfully, The Last Starship of Earth wasn't overladen with
obvious mythology to topple the novel... Boyd's inexperience was enough
to do that.
Rear cover synopsis:
"In the futuristic society
that serves as the setting for this elegantly chilling novel, the State
decides whole one will choose as one's mate. In any case, professional
boundaries cannot be crossed, and thus the young mathematician Haldane
IV cannot fall in love with or marry the girl of his choice, the poet
Helix. But as the young couple studies ever more closely the long-hidden
poems of Fairweather I, whose work years before had completely altered
the whole nature of society and who is universally acknowledged to
greatest mathematician since Einstein, they realize the verses hold
important messages for them--and for the world. What, for example, does
this couplet mean?
That he who loses wins the race,...
That parallel lines must meet in space.
Even as they ponder, they know that the price, if they are caught, is exile to the planet of Hell."
Welcome
to the prefecture of California, part of the Union of North America,
itself part of the World State. The triune State is governed by the
Three Weird Sisters, "an agglomeration of sociology, psychology, and
priests." (52) Where the sociologists and psychologists are concerned
about the legality of the State, the Church's main concern is its
morality; the psychologists take the broad view and monitor the police
activity while sociologists are the administrators and tackle the
judiciary side of the law. The population of the earth is divided
between the proletariats as "insensate brutes" (136) and professionals
as "sheep" (136) to the powers of State.
The professionals seem
to be classified by their colleges where prefix "A" stands are ART,
prefix "M" stands for MATHEMATICS, and prefix "C" stands for
CRIMINOLOGY. Other professions are experienced but the classification
seems to be a simple dystopian tag to adhere to the two victims of its
own society: Haldane IV (M-5, 138270, 2/10/46) falls in love with the
idea of and the ideals of Helix, A-7, 148261. 13/15/47) (I believe the
latter numbers refer to their birthdays in regards to the rather
confusing 13-month Hebrew Calendar). Each professional classification is
mated within its own college, the mate chosen for their genetic synergy
in order to produce a greater knowledge-based professional class to
drive forward the specific needs of the State, where the proletariats
act as general means laborers.
On one fateful day, Haldane was
meant to go to the science museum but ended up crossing paths with Helix
at the art gallery. The mathematician is intrigued by a facet of the
legend of the greatest mathematician to even live that he never knew
about--the man also wrote poetry. Helix quotes some poetry by the legend
and Haldane never looks back twice. The two clandestinely meet to
exchange notes of the subject to ascertain what Fairweather was pointing
at with his dichotomous poetry. Haldane's roommate's loaning of his
parent's apartment is perfectly suited for these trysts and for his
weekly visitations to his father's house.
Fairweather was
noteworthy for his contributions to light-speed travel, which allowed
ships to traverse space and colonize stars. However, the State was
against such an expansion and the trips were limited to the planet Hell,
a planet shrouded in propaganda as being desolate, frozen, and four
million light-years away in the Cygnus system. One more contribution
Fairweather made to society was his invention of the electronic pope, a
supercomputer which has the last word on any sentencing done by the
State's courts.
The non-physical relationship between Haldane and
Helix borders on amorous but their social conditioning is so strong
that only a special circumstance (i.e. plot twist) can force the two to a
more physical situation. The relationship develops and ends with yet
another hasty special circumstance (i.e. predictable plot twist).
Thereafter, Haldane spends his time in jail with his lawyer being
prepped for his trial against the World State, which calls for
subversion against professional all three of the "Weird Sister" fields:
sociology, psychology, and The Church. The trial ends with Haldane
unsuspectingly given the worst sentence possible.
Witnessing the
budding relationship of Haldane and Helix amid the social restrictions
imposed by the State was a small spectacle in itself. The technocracy of
genetic pairing is familiar territory for science fiction readers yet
the entrapment is a fairly old hook (i.e. Yevgeny Zamyatin's novel We).
Up until the point of the back-to-back plot twists, the book was on a
4.5 mean average, with swathes of sociological implications and heady
passages of love yet to be fulfilled. Call me a hopeless romantic, but
the combination of the two was an opiate for me.
Then... duhn
duhn duhn, the suspenseful soundtrack of an ill attempt at a natural
plot twist, which Boyd half-way failed at. I had faith in this unknown
author at pulling off the dual plot twists as I had already invested my
faith in the first half of the novel. My trust remained strong even
through the THIRD plot twists, when I met the scenario with much
skepticism and narrowed eyes of disbelief. But when Boyd played his time
travel card, I immediately knew that Boyd made the most critical error
any author could perpetrate: don't write a story you don't have an
ending for. I would usually use "deus ex machina" to describe the sudden
event, but this came flying straight out of his rusty bullet hole.
Like
the mention of the Hebrew Calendar above and the unmentioned time
travel stint with Jesus and the Wandering Jew (oops), there's a more
latent judeo-christian underpinning beneath the novel. One lingering
questions which a social theologian may want to tackle after reading
this novel is, How has the Church affected the course of the sciences of
sociology and psychology? It's my final opinion that the years of
mention (1850-1966) are of an alternative history. Some historical names
of mention (A. Lincoln's "Johannesburg Address" isn't Abraham Lincoln's
"Gettysburg Address") are altered and point to the alternative history
origin.
While most of the historical and mythological portions
were lost on me (neither a historian or mythologist, but acquiring the
temporary persona of a mathematician), the sociological implications
affecting the amorous couple are a highlight... but after the plot
twists the wait for the conclusion is all downhill if you subtract the
details concerning the government and its history. I already own the
second book of the trilogy, The Pollinators of Eden, and glance at it hesitantly. As for book three, The Rakehells of Heaven... I release of ominous sigh of near future acquaintance.
Sci-Fi Reviews with Tyrannical Tirades, Vague Vexations, and Palatial Praises
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
1968: The Farthest Reaches (Elder, Joseph [editor])
Not transported to the 'Farthest Reaches' (3/5)
From May 3, 2011
Ah, the sixties... when science fiction was making the transition from space science fiction to social science fiction, some still held to the reigns on the earlier era. Stephen Goldin's anthology The Alien Condition (1973) spoke to this change of focus while highlighting the societies in alien civilizations. This 1968 collection is passable for its space theme but ultimately hinges on the popularity of the twelve authors (eleven of which I know by name). However, I don't think it accomplishes what the editor expected when he called for: an exhibition of extreme escapism which science fiction offers its' readers. To quote, these stories should be "set only in farthest reaches of space beyond our solar system, in unimaginably distant galaxies which reflect all those qualities which Mr. Clarke so rightly claimed as our true goals in space." Meh.
I don't know what the editor, Joseph Elder, was known for in the science fiction community, but it appears his only other contribution has been another collection entitled Eros in Orbit (1973), which looks pretty sleazy... something you expect from the science fiction in Playboy (From the "S" File [1971]).
------------
The Worm That Flies (Brian W. Aldiss, 1968) - 2/5 - A stone-collecting immortal worm on a far-flung planet around a dying star amid a galaxy of perishing novas with philosophical trees and temperamental gorilla-men... I'm not sure where Aldiss was going with this. 20 pages
Kyrie (Poul Anderson, 1968) - 4/5 - Ship approaches a supernova and onboard is a human telepath linked to a energy-being who is being employed to probe the intricacies of the nova but at what cost to the telepath? 13 pages
Tomorrow is a Million Years (J.G. Ballard, 1966) - 4/5 - Shipwrecked man on a desert planet hallucinates fictional nautical ships while awaiting rescue. The time dilation involved means he'll arrive back home seven years after leaving, and hopefully to a brighter future. 13 pages
Pond Water (John Brunner, 1968) - 4/5 - Alexander, the ultimate robot, is given a supreme metallic body and a expansive knowledge, allowing it to control earth, the colonies and eventually the galaxy but there in one thing it will never control. 13 pages
The Dance of the Changer and the Three (Terry Carr, 1968) - 2/5 - A gas planet home to energy-beings is also the source of very heavy metals, but the locals aren't so logical or clear and this doesn't stop a mining company from coming in and, eventually, having to deal with the consequences. 16 pages
Crusade (Arthur C. Clarke, 1968) - 4/5 - Perpetually mid-galactic superconductive sentient planet sends near-absolute zero envoys o regional galaxies in search for life but only finds one race liquid hydrogen oxide beings. 6 pages
Ranging (John Jakes, 1968) - 3/5 - Teenaged galactic surveyors jump millions of light-years to plot the neighborhood but they have ambitions to jump further- to trillions of light-years, if it just wasn't for the oversight of the Monitors. 15 pages
Mind Out of Time (Keith Laumer, 1968) - 3/5 - FLT craft zips beyond Mars orbit on her maiden voyage but the pilots have the crazy idea to hammer the throttle and see where (or when or how) it takes them. 15 pages
The Inspector (James McKimmey, 1968) - 5/5 - Earth Central investigates the extra-vehicular orbital death of a famous young man of the colonized planet Tnp, who are experiencing a pragmatic Greek-era revival. 20 pages
To the Dark Star (Robert Silverberg, 1968) - 2/5 - A trio of scientists (one human, one pan-human, one alien) approach and explore an ancient derelict of a collapsed star, where the humans succumb to petty bickering. (You'll have to suspend any knowledge you have of collapsed stars and supernovae). 12 pages
A Night in Elf Hill (Norman Spinrad, 1968) - 3/5 - A space merchant nears mandatory retirement after eighteen years of service and writes a letter to his brother begging him out of returning to a planet which hosts a secret relic offering the unequalled joys of a lost race. 14 pages
Sulwen's Planet (Jack Vance, 1968) - 3/5 - Bickering comparative linguists beset themselves with the chance to research two alien derelicts on a deserted planet. 15 pages
From May 3, 2011
Ah, the sixties... when science fiction was making the transition from space science fiction to social science fiction, some still held to the reigns on the earlier era. Stephen Goldin's anthology The Alien Condition (1973) spoke to this change of focus while highlighting the societies in alien civilizations. This 1968 collection is passable for its space theme but ultimately hinges on the popularity of the twelve authors (eleven of which I know by name). However, I don't think it accomplishes what the editor expected when he called for: an exhibition of extreme escapism which science fiction offers its' readers. To quote, these stories should be "set only in farthest reaches of space beyond our solar system, in unimaginably distant galaxies which reflect all those qualities which Mr. Clarke so rightly claimed as our true goals in space." Meh.
I don't know what the editor, Joseph Elder, was known for in the science fiction community, but it appears his only other contribution has been another collection entitled Eros in Orbit (1973), which looks pretty sleazy... something you expect from the science fiction in Playboy (From the "S" File [1971]).
------------
The Worm That Flies (Brian W. Aldiss, 1968) - 2/5 - A stone-collecting immortal worm on a far-flung planet around a dying star amid a galaxy of perishing novas with philosophical trees and temperamental gorilla-men... I'm not sure where Aldiss was going with this. 20 pages
Kyrie (Poul Anderson, 1968) - 4/5 - Ship approaches a supernova and onboard is a human telepath linked to a energy-being who is being employed to probe the intricacies of the nova but at what cost to the telepath? 13 pages
Tomorrow is a Million Years (J.G. Ballard, 1966) - 4/5 - Shipwrecked man on a desert planet hallucinates fictional nautical ships while awaiting rescue. The time dilation involved means he'll arrive back home seven years after leaving, and hopefully to a brighter future. 13 pages
Pond Water (John Brunner, 1968) - 4/5 - Alexander, the ultimate robot, is given a supreme metallic body and a expansive knowledge, allowing it to control earth, the colonies and eventually the galaxy but there in one thing it will never control. 13 pages
The Dance of the Changer and the Three (Terry Carr, 1968) - 2/5 - A gas planet home to energy-beings is also the source of very heavy metals, but the locals aren't so logical or clear and this doesn't stop a mining company from coming in and, eventually, having to deal with the consequences. 16 pages
Crusade (Arthur C. Clarke, 1968) - 4/5 - Perpetually mid-galactic superconductive sentient planet sends near-absolute zero envoys o regional galaxies in search for life but only finds one race liquid hydrogen oxide beings. 6 pages
Ranging (John Jakes, 1968) - 3/5 - Teenaged galactic surveyors jump millions of light-years to plot the neighborhood but they have ambitions to jump further- to trillions of light-years, if it just wasn't for the oversight of the Monitors. 15 pages
Mind Out of Time (Keith Laumer, 1968) - 3/5 - FLT craft zips beyond Mars orbit on her maiden voyage but the pilots have the crazy idea to hammer the throttle and see where (or when or how) it takes them. 15 pages
The Inspector (James McKimmey, 1968) - 5/5 - Earth Central investigates the extra-vehicular orbital death of a famous young man of the colonized planet Tnp, who are experiencing a pragmatic Greek-era revival. 20 pages
To the Dark Star (Robert Silverberg, 1968) - 2/5 - A trio of scientists (one human, one pan-human, one alien) approach and explore an ancient derelict of a collapsed star, where the humans succumb to petty bickering. (You'll have to suspend any knowledge you have of collapsed stars and supernovae). 12 pages
A Night in Elf Hill (Norman Spinrad, 1968) - 3/5 - A space merchant nears mandatory retirement after eighteen years of service and writes a letter to his brother begging him out of returning to a planet which hosts a secret relic offering the unequalled joys of a lost race. 14 pages
Sulwen's Planet (Jack Vance, 1968) - 3/5 - Bickering comparative linguists beset themselves with the chance to research two alien derelicts on a deserted planet. 15 pages
Friday, June 1, 2012
1964: The Terminal Beach (Ballard, J.G.)
Ponderous scenarios and poignant inklings (4/5)
The only other Ballard collection I've been exposed to is Vermilion Sands (1971), which is a collection of stories taking place in a future Palm Springs, of sorts. With Ballard's typical luscious prose and imagination, the stories unravel beautifully with the spiced blend of art and technology.
It's difficult to compare that collection with this one. Terminal Beach isn't an all-inclusive collection with an obvious central theme, but some nuances in each story bring to the surface a fixation on the metamorphosis between the live organic body into the realm of the stagnant dead. The two extremes are not the focus of the collection's subject matter, rather it is the mid-point which is explored: the actual metamorphosis.
It's just not gorgeous prose which captivates the reader, nor is it the wondrous science fiction scaffolding found throughout Terminal Beach, but it's the wow-factor found in some of the passages which really make you think: "The only real landscapes are the internal ones, or the external projections of them." (The Delta at Sunset, 121) and "Each of us is little more than the meagre residue of the infinite unrealized possibilities of our lives." (The Terminal Beach, 153). This isn't a collection to rush through--it's one to slowly absorb, deconstruct, and reflect upon.
------------
A Question of Re-entry (1963) - 4/5 - An Amazonian tribe harbors a recluse foreigner, Ryker, who is a contact for a downriver trader, Pereire. Aboard the trader's vessel is a UN space agency representative in search of a crashed capsule from five years prior. Ryker has a fondness for clocks and holds an abusive sway over the idling local tribe. Admitting no knowledge of the crash, Pereire docks next to the village so Connolly can reconnoiter about. 32 pages
The Drowned Giant (1964) - 5/5 - Upon a shore after an evening squall, the body of a giant is spied in the shallow waters. The word spreads and onlookers gather to gape and, later, ascend the massive humanoid carcass. Over time, limbs are amputated, graffiti is inflicted, and the general corruption of the corpse is reflected in the corrupted morality of the crowd. The keepsake parts such as bones and phallus are gaudily put on public and private display as the giant corpse lays sentinel on the beach. 11 pages
End-Game (1963) - 4/5 - Constantin is pronounced guilty as a trial he says is flawed. His sentence is death; however, he will not know the time or method of his death, only the place and the face of the executioner, Malek. Together in a villa, Malek acts as Constantin's supervisor during his remote incarceration. As the two play chess Constantin dissects Malek's psyche and they debate the points of the trial and the intentions of the Department of Justice, all the while his execution looms. 23 pages
The Illuminated Man (1964) - 4/5 - In the Everglades, he city of Maynard has been evacuated and the entire state of Florida soon follows. What's left behind is an expanding forest of crystalization, a hotspot for the unnatural conversion of all things to iridescent crystal form. One man has strayed from his expedition and finds himself alone under the faceted canopy, where boats, alligators, and people have all been crystallized. The only remedy: keep running. 31 pages
The Reptile Enclosure (1963) - 4/5 - A couple gaze at the crowded beach where the sea of flesh and analog radios underline the spanning ocean and towering sky. Conversing without aim, the couple bask behind the expanse of sunbathers. The husband eyes a familiar face among the crowd, someone with curious theories as to the nature of the recent satellites launches, one of which is occurring as the mass stands to linger at the shoreline, eying the bland azure sky. 12 pages
The Delta at Sunset (1964) - 4/5 - At dusk, Gifford sits in his tent in spectacle of the whithering landscape of snakes which amass at the same time everyday. An infected foot wound has left him bed-ridden as his wife and assistant tour the excavation site of an Indian temple. Without word from the doctor or the scout sent after him, Gifford experiences the ebb and surge of delirium as he suspects his wife of adultery in the neighboring tent. 17 pages
The Terminal Beach (1964) - 3/5 - Deliriously visiting an old nuclear testing island, a man seeks his wife and son who he lost in an automobile accident. Haunted by their spectral figures, he traverses the island inspecting the remains of concrete cuboids, camera towers, and the derelict airbase. Gathering canned food and mementos of vicarious echoes, the man is stricken with beri-beri yet is unwilling to accept the aid of researchers or airmen, finding comfort in his deliriousness. 22 pages
Deep End (1961) - 4/5 - Earth's oceans have been sapped of its oxygen, an element essential for terraforming colonized planets. With the earth nearly depopulated, only the stubborn elders still survive. Yet, the 22-year old Holliday choses to eke out his existence on the old seabed of the Atlantic Ocean, one of the only inhabitable places left. Nearby is Lake Atlantic, a sliver of its once great expanse, which contains a shard of biological history which Holliday invests his motivation into. 13 pages
The Volcano Dances (1964) - 2/5 - Sitting ponderously upon the slope of a volcanic crater sits a village. The raging molten earth sends plumes of gas and dust into the air. Further downslope is a man biding his time, an audience of one for a show yet be started, yet to be named. He pays the witch doctor one dollar per dance, not knowning if his gyrations are hindering or helping the angry release of the historic soup of liquid earth beneath his feet. 6 pages
Billennium (1961) - 5/5 - The four square meters of alloted living space in the city seems to suit everyone well. The entire population has amassed in the cities which flow with endless shoulder-to-shoulder traffic. Ward and Rossiter decide to rent a double but miraculously discover an empty fifteen square foot behind one wall. They invite two friends to stay in this cavernous room, but the openness of it spurs them to invite more people. Twenty billion people all need somewhere to live. 16 pages
The Gioconda of the Twilight Moon (1964) - 2/5 - Wrapped in bandages and swathed in memories, a man revisits his childhood home as he convalesces from an eye injury. During this time, his wife cares for him but he is largely left to himself as he discovers his mind's third eye. He mentally visits the shallows of the shore and the caves of the coast, all while watched by a green-cloaked observer. His wife's interruptions cause him distress. 10 pages
The Lost Leonardo (1964) - 5/5 - The disappearance of Leonardo's Crucifixion from the Louvre has stumped curators, collectors, and investigators alike. Upon further research, Georg de Stael has found other stolen yet recovered crucifixion paintings from the last two hundred years. The area of concern in each painting is the alteration of the figure of Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew. Georg's theory needs to be tested and the auction in Madeleine may draw the culprit out. 20 pages
The only other Ballard collection I've been exposed to is Vermilion Sands (1971), which is a collection of stories taking place in a future Palm Springs, of sorts. With Ballard's typical luscious prose and imagination, the stories unravel beautifully with the spiced blend of art and technology.
It's difficult to compare that collection with this one. Terminal Beach isn't an all-inclusive collection with an obvious central theme, but some nuances in each story bring to the surface a fixation on the metamorphosis between the live organic body into the realm of the stagnant dead. The two extremes are not the focus of the collection's subject matter, rather it is the mid-point which is explored: the actual metamorphosis.
It's just not gorgeous prose which captivates the reader, nor is it the wondrous science fiction scaffolding found throughout Terminal Beach, but it's the wow-factor found in some of the passages which really make you think: "The only real landscapes are the internal ones, or the external projections of them." (The Delta at Sunset, 121) and "Each of us is little more than the meagre residue of the infinite unrealized possibilities of our lives." (The Terminal Beach, 153). This isn't a collection to rush through--it's one to slowly absorb, deconstruct, and reflect upon.
------------
A Question of Re-entry (1963) - 4/5 - An Amazonian tribe harbors a recluse foreigner, Ryker, who is a contact for a downriver trader, Pereire. Aboard the trader's vessel is a UN space agency representative in search of a crashed capsule from five years prior. Ryker has a fondness for clocks and holds an abusive sway over the idling local tribe. Admitting no knowledge of the crash, Pereire docks next to the village so Connolly can reconnoiter about. 32 pages
The Drowned Giant (1964) - 5/5 - Upon a shore after an evening squall, the body of a giant is spied in the shallow waters. The word spreads and onlookers gather to gape and, later, ascend the massive humanoid carcass. Over time, limbs are amputated, graffiti is inflicted, and the general corruption of the corpse is reflected in the corrupted morality of the crowd. The keepsake parts such as bones and phallus are gaudily put on public and private display as the giant corpse lays sentinel on the beach. 11 pages
End-Game (1963) - 4/5 - Constantin is pronounced guilty as a trial he says is flawed. His sentence is death; however, he will not know the time or method of his death, only the place and the face of the executioner, Malek. Together in a villa, Malek acts as Constantin's supervisor during his remote incarceration. As the two play chess Constantin dissects Malek's psyche and they debate the points of the trial and the intentions of the Department of Justice, all the while his execution looms. 23 pages
The Illuminated Man (1964) - 4/5 - In the Everglades, he city of Maynard has been evacuated and the entire state of Florida soon follows. What's left behind is an expanding forest of crystalization, a hotspot for the unnatural conversion of all things to iridescent crystal form. One man has strayed from his expedition and finds himself alone under the faceted canopy, where boats, alligators, and people have all been crystallized. The only remedy: keep running. 31 pages
The Reptile Enclosure (1963) - 4/5 - A couple gaze at the crowded beach where the sea of flesh and analog radios underline the spanning ocean and towering sky. Conversing without aim, the couple bask behind the expanse of sunbathers. The husband eyes a familiar face among the crowd, someone with curious theories as to the nature of the recent satellites launches, one of which is occurring as the mass stands to linger at the shoreline, eying the bland azure sky. 12 pages
The Delta at Sunset (1964) - 4/5 - At dusk, Gifford sits in his tent in spectacle of the whithering landscape of snakes which amass at the same time everyday. An infected foot wound has left him bed-ridden as his wife and assistant tour the excavation site of an Indian temple. Without word from the doctor or the scout sent after him, Gifford experiences the ebb and surge of delirium as he suspects his wife of adultery in the neighboring tent. 17 pages
The Terminal Beach (1964) - 3/5 - Deliriously visiting an old nuclear testing island, a man seeks his wife and son who he lost in an automobile accident. Haunted by their spectral figures, he traverses the island inspecting the remains of concrete cuboids, camera towers, and the derelict airbase. Gathering canned food and mementos of vicarious echoes, the man is stricken with beri-beri yet is unwilling to accept the aid of researchers or airmen, finding comfort in his deliriousness. 22 pages
Deep End (1961) - 4/5 - Earth's oceans have been sapped of its oxygen, an element essential for terraforming colonized planets. With the earth nearly depopulated, only the stubborn elders still survive. Yet, the 22-year old Holliday choses to eke out his existence on the old seabed of the Atlantic Ocean, one of the only inhabitable places left. Nearby is Lake Atlantic, a sliver of its once great expanse, which contains a shard of biological history which Holliday invests his motivation into. 13 pages
The Volcano Dances (1964) - 2/5 - Sitting ponderously upon the slope of a volcanic crater sits a village. The raging molten earth sends plumes of gas and dust into the air. Further downslope is a man biding his time, an audience of one for a show yet be started, yet to be named. He pays the witch doctor one dollar per dance, not knowning if his gyrations are hindering or helping the angry release of the historic soup of liquid earth beneath his feet. 6 pages
Billennium (1961) - 5/5 - The four square meters of alloted living space in the city seems to suit everyone well. The entire population has amassed in the cities which flow with endless shoulder-to-shoulder traffic. Ward and Rossiter decide to rent a double but miraculously discover an empty fifteen square foot behind one wall. They invite two friends to stay in this cavernous room, but the openness of it spurs them to invite more people. Twenty billion people all need somewhere to live. 16 pages
The Gioconda of the Twilight Moon (1964) - 2/5 - Wrapped in bandages and swathed in memories, a man revisits his childhood home as he convalesces from an eye injury. During this time, his wife cares for him but he is largely left to himself as he discovers his mind's third eye. He mentally visits the shallows of the shore and the caves of the coast, all while watched by a green-cloaked observer. His wife's interruptions cause him distress. 10 pages
The Lost Leonardo (1964) - 5/5 - The disappearance of Leonardo's Crucifixion from the Louvre has stumped curators, collectors, and investigators alike. Upon further research, Georg de Stael has found other stolen yet recovered crucifixion paintings from the last two hundred years. The area of concern in each painting is the alteration of the figure of Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew. Georg's theory needs to be tested and the auction in Madeleine may draw the culprit out. 20 pages
1971: Vermilion Sands (Ballard J.G.)
Individually unique yet monotonous as a whole (4/5)
From May 23, 2011
My only experience with Ballard was with his cataclysmic novel The Drought (1965). It was hauntingly beautiful and I only a few authors could be compared to Ballard's fluency and ease at using the English language. I was nearly aching to delve into Ballard's short work to see how seamlessly he could pen a perfectly tidy story. This was my first foray into his short work.
Rear cover synopsis:
"Vermilion Sands is J.G. Ballrd's fantasy playground of the future--a latterday Palm Springs. It is populated by forgotten movie queens and dilettantes dreaming up malicious games to relieve the boredom of a technocratic society. Only in such a phantasmagorical setting could poets be ravished by the temperamental Aurora Day. Only here could plants sing arias and clouds be fashioned according to the aesthetic whims of drugged beachcombers. But life is this strange colony is also fraught with danger, the danger of ideas that turn into perverse pleasures."
Entirely taking place within the Ballard-dreamt landscape in the desert resort named Vermilion Sands, each story is based on some exotic art form conjured up by the author. One of the running themes is the "sonic sculpture" which tends to record sound, reproduce frequencies, and harmonize with each other sculptures. The idea is intriguing (especially to someone like me with a history of both sculpting and audio production) but it is mentioned too often and becomes commonplace rather than a centerpiece for a single story. Likewise, all the stories involve some sort of artsy gloss (poets, painters, sculptors, florists, singer, etc.) and the monotony of witnessing the artists' world is tedious and best taken in bits, like one story a day (it would have been torture to complete this in two days).
While each story in itself is good or great, treat the book as a whole and the collection spurs ennui. If Ballard were to switch it up a bit, the book make not have been as monotonous as it had been. But because, after a few days, I took it bit by bit, I found the collection to be pretty good.
------------
The Cloud-Scultpors of Coral D (1967) - 4/5 - Flying cloud sculptures are hired to depict their work in dedication to a narcissistic heiress with varying degrees of portrayal, types of cloud meanwhile trying to withhold the artistic license. 20 pages
Prima Belladonna (1956) - 5/5 - A beautiful songstress enters town, much to the pleasure of the boys across the street but fails to impress the sonic florist, whose arachnid flower takes envy in the talent of the singer. 16 pages
The Screen Game (1963) - 3/5 - A film production crew move into town to shoot and hire a painter to color the canvas of a million square meters (nearly) who falls for an ashen prisoner who then also falls for the painter's prints. 18 pages
The Singing Statues (1962) - 4/5 - Two sculptors deceptively sell a gaudy collector a large piece, only having to return secretly every fortnight to replace the magnet tape storing the sympathetic music. 16 pages
Cry Hope, Cry Fury! (1967) - 3/5 - A lonely sand yacht captain rescues a man from the desert only to have his likeness portrayed onto canvas, which mysteriously changes overnight to be more like her long lost love. 20 pages
Venus Smiles (1957) - 4/5 - A sculptor is hired to create a sonic sculpture for the square but when unveiled, the piece is much despised so the curator takes it home and much to his dismay, the thing grows in dimension and cadence. 16 pages
Say Goodbye to the Wind (1970) - 3/5 - Organic cloth shop owner sells a new wardrobe to the girlfriend of a dead organic cloth designer and when the cloth begins throwing spasms, the relationship and mystery begin. 18 pages
Studio 5, The Stars (1961) - 4/5 - The editor of a poem magazine full of poem by so-called poets possess auto-poem machines, but when his new neighbor, also a poem, forces to handwrite their odes, chaos ensues. 40 pages
The Thousand Dreams of Stellavista (1962) - 5/5 - Psychotropic houses are imprinted with the personalities and memories of the previous tenants, but that doesn't stop a couple from moving into a house with an eerie, familiar past. 24 pages
From May 23, 2011
My only experience with Ballard was with his cataclysmic novel The Drought (1965). It was hauntingly beautiful and I only a few authors could be compared to Ballard's fluency and ease at using the English language. I was nearly aching to delve into Ballard's short work to see how seamlessly he could pen a perfectly tidy story. This was my first foray into his short work.
Rear cover synopsis:
"Vermilion Sands is J.G. Ballrd's fantasy playground of the future--a latterday Palm Springs. It is populated by forgotten movie queens and dilettantes dreaming up malicious games to relieve the boredom of a technocratic society. Only in such a phantasmagorical setting could poets be ravished by the temperamental Aurora Day. Only here could plants sing arias and clouds be fashioned according to the aesthetic whims of drugged beachcombers. But life is this strange colony is also fraught with danger, the danger of ideas that turn into perverse pleasures."
Entirely taking place within the Ballard-dreamt landscape in the desert resort named Vermilion Sands, each story is based on some exotic art form conjured up by the author. One of the running themes is the "sonic sculpture" which tends to record sound, reproduce frequencies, and harmonize with each other sculptures. The idea is intriguing (especially to someone like me with a history of both sculpting and audio production) but it is mentioned too often and becomes commonplace rather than a centerpiece for a single story. Likewise, all the stories involve some sort of artsy gloss (poets, painters, sculptors, florists, singer, etc.) and the monotony of witnessing the artists' world is tedious and best taken in bits, like one story a day (it would have been torture to complete this in two days).
While each story in itself is good or great, treat the book as a whole and the collection spurs ennui. If Ballard were to switch it up a bit, the book make not have been as monotonous as it had been. But because, after a few days, I took it bit by bit, I found the collection to be pretty good.
------------
The Cloud-Scultpors of Coral D (1967) - 4/5 - Flying cloud sculptures are hired to depict their work in dedication to a narcissistic heiress with varying degrees of portrayal, types of cloud meanwhile trying to withhold the artistic license. 20 pages
Prima Belladonna (1956) - 5/5 - A beautiful songstress enters town, much to the pleasure of the boys across the street but fails to impress the sonic florist, whose arachnid flower takes envy in the talent of the singer. 16 pages
The Screen Game (1963) - 3/5 - A film production crew move into town to shoot and hire a painter to color the canvas of a million square meters (nearly) who falls for an ashen prisoner who then also falls for the painter's prints. 18 pages
The Singing Statues (1962) - 4/5 - Two sculptors deceptively sell a gaudy collector a large piece, only having to return secretly every fortnight to replace the magnet tape storing the sympathetic music. 16 pages
Cry Hope, Cry Fury! (1967) - 3/5 - A lonely sand yacht captain rescues a man from the desert only to have his likeness portrayed onto canvas, which mysteriously changes overnight to be more like her long lost love. 20 pages
Venus Smiles (1957) - 4/5 - A sculptor is hired to create a sonic sculpture for the square but when unveiled, the piece is much despised so the curator takes it home and much to his dismay, the thing grows in dimension and cadence. 16 pages
Say Goodbye to the Wind (1970) - 3/5 - Organic cloth shop owner sells a new wardrobe to the girlfriend of a dead organic cloth designer and when the cloth begins throwing spasms, the relationship and mystery begin. 18 pages
Studio 5, The Stars (1961) - 4/5 - The editor of a poem magazine full of poem by so-called poets possess auto-poem machines, but when his new neighbor, also a poem, forces to handwrite their odes, chaos ensues. 40 pages
The Thousand Dreams of Stellavista (1962) - 5/5 - Psychotropic houses are imprinted with the personalities and memories of the previous tenants, but that doesn't stop a couple from moving into a house with an eerie, familiar past. 24 pages
Thursday, May 31, 2012
1968: A Gift From Earth (Niven, Larry)
Psychic crutch weakens protagonist's drive (3/5)
I'm most familiar with Niven's novels from the 1970s and 1980 along with his excellent short story collection in Neutron Star (1968), which contains stories from 1966-1968. One story in this collection, "Grendel," was published just after the release of his second novel, A Gift From Earth. Niven exhibited a skill for short SF work, but managed to produce this seamless novel akin to his first novel, World of Ptavvs (1966). Both novels take place in Niven's Known Space universe and both use forms of telepathy. These two books lay the foundation for the entire Niven bibliography, showcasing his talents at world-building and highlighting his weakness at persuading the reader.
This novel was originally serialized in three parts in early 1968 in the IF magazine. Unlike many of the serialized novels during the same time, A Gift From Earth has an excellent flow without the stopgaps that many other serializations have. There are no clear divisions between the parts, so the novel had a seamless flow throughout.
Rear cover synopsis:
"The world named Mount Lookitthat was never meant for humans--it was shrouded in lethal mists. Life only existed on one plateau, unreachable except from space. But the disastrous decision to colonize the planet could not be reversed. So the settlers survived somehow--under a ruthless dictatorship.
Mount Lookitthat was rebellion-proof.
Then fate dealt the colonists a wild card named Matthew Keller, who had a talent that neither he nor anybody else knew about.
At last the colonists had a glimmer of hope!"
Jesus Pietro Castro heads the Implementation police force of the Hospital, which isn't a center to treat the ill and injured. Rather, it's a morbid mansion of disassembled bodies for the harvesting of body parts... the Body Bank. The "Crew" of the first ships to touch down on the planet of Mount Lookitthat receive these harvesting body parts from the lowly colonists. Ranked as aristocrats/autocrats on their perched plateau of a world, they enjoy all the benefits from their society while the colonists cower under their tyranny. But like the 40-mile cliffs which circumscribe their towering plateau, there is an underground movement planning to topple the 300-year reign, ready to cast freedom down to the masses of the colonists.
Gliding through the interstellar void with ramscoop propulsion, Ramscoop Robot #143 messages the perilous colony of Mount Lookitthat listing its cargo contents, gifts from earth which provide the colonies with advanced technology. The contents are privy to the ruling Crew class, but one resourceful colonist, Polly Tournquist, is able to hide in the trees and snap photos of the gift from earth.
Though limited in membership, the resistance does have decades of meticulous planning behind their inevitable push for freedom under the organ-stealing elite. Matthew Keller isn't part of the resistance but finds himself in the middle of a raucous party thrown by the members, with many innocents scattered among them. The 21-year old virgin is eager to speak with Polly, the cute shortie with the curious earbud, only for her to become wide-eyes in mid conversation and turn away. Angered by the abrupt denial, Matthew turns his attention to the more lithe woman, who seduces him into a dark room. When the raid orchestrated by Jesus Pietro commences, Matthew is one of the few to escape the police cordon.
Matthew is soon embroiled in a manhunt, his fear of the Body Bank drives him to protect his innocence at the cost of appearing guilty. The Implementation can't find any proof of his resistance ties, but keeps the search ongoing. Matthew discovers a curious ability of his own, a sort of cloak of invisibility which renders his invisible when he is frightened. This "psychic invisibility" allows him to penetrate the Hospital, release his comrades-in-arms, and seclude themselves for the next big push in their anti-Crew agenda.
The most impressive part of A Gift From Earth is the setting: a California-sized plateau, the only inhabitable part of the planet, towering 40 miles over the molten surface, an atmosphere layered with noxious gases, the colony perched solely on this one piece of land. I said that Niven does wonders for world-building and it doesn't stop here. Like most of Niven's Known Space universe, the harvesting of body parts from criminals (even petty criminals) is wide-spread and helps keep crime down and life-expectancy high:
Nevertheless, most Crew get on with their lives, like Matthew. The resistance is limited but presents a dichotomous picture of the female sex in the movement. There's the lithe Laney who is apt in many Crew-limited skills though a colonists herself, yet she describes herself as a type of comfort girl:
Aside from the fantastic world-building, there's two flaws which strip this novel of two stars. I'm a big non-fan of using psychic abilities in science fiction. I find it silly and unfounded unless some technological bridge is there. So firstly, I find the non-science foundation of Matthew's "psychic invisibility" as silly. I waited for some explanation but was left high and dry with the psychic answer. Secondly and last, the entire resistance that Matthew throws up against the Crew and the Implementation is just too easy, it hardly lacks any resistance; there's no greater strife, no burning desire in Matthew can be found to propel his drive. I was left unconvinced.
I love the Known Space universe Niven has established and will most likely return to the pages of The Integral Trees (1984), Protector (1973), and all the stories including Neutron Star and Tales of Known Space (1975). A chronological reading of his Known Universe material should be called for in many years to come after I exhaust my current unread collection. It'll also be interesting to compare his early work with his more recent Building Harlequin's Moon (2005), which is also on my unread shelf.
I'm most familiar with Niven's novels from the 1970s and 1980 along with his excellent short story collection in Neutron Star (1968), which contains stories from 1966-1968. One story in this collection, "Grendel," was published just after the release of his second novel, A Gift From Earth. Niven exhibited a skill for short SF work, but managed to produce this seamless novel akin to his first novel, World of Ptavvs (1966). Both novels take place in Niven's Known Space universe and both use forms of telepathy. These two books lay the foundation for the entire Niven bibliography, showcasing his talents at world-building and highlighting his weakness at persuading the reader.
This novel was originally serialized in three parts in early 1968 in the IF magazine. Unlike many of the serialized novels during the same time, A Gift From Earth has an excellent flow without the stopgaps that many other serializations have. There are no clear divisions between the parts, so the novel had a seamless flow throughout.
Rear cover synopsis:
"The world named Mount Lookitthat was never meant for humans--it was shrouded in lethal mists. Life only existed on one plateau, unreachable except from space. But the disastrous decision to colonize the planet could not be reversed. So the settlers survived somehow--under a ruthless dictatorship.
Mount Lookitthat was rebellion-proof.
Then fate dealt the colonists a wild card named Matthew Keller, who had a talent that neither he nor anybody else knew about.
At last the colonists had a glimmer of hope!"
Jesus Pietro Castro heads the Implementation police force of the Hospital, which isn't a center to treat the ill and injured. Rather, it's a morbid mansion of disassembled bodies for the harvesting of body parts... the Body Bank. The "Crew" of the first ships to touch down on the planet of Mount Lookitthat receive these harvesting body parts from the lowly colonists. Ranked as aristocrats/autocrats on their perched plateau of a world, they enjoy all the benefits from their society while the colonists cower under their tyranny. But like the 40-mile cliffs which circumscribe their towering plateau, there is an underground movement planning to topple the 300-year reign, ready to cast freedom down to the masses of the colonists.
Gliding through the interstellar void with ramscoop propulsion, Ramscoop Robot #143 messages the perilous colony of Mount Lookitthat listing its cargo contents, gifts from earth which provide the colonies with advanced technology. The contents are privy to the ruling Crew class, but one resourceful colonist, Polly Tournquist, is able to hide in the trees and snap photos of the gift from earth.
Though limited in membership, the resistance does have decades of meticulous planning behind their inevitable push for freedom under the organ-stealing elite. Matthew Keller isn't part of the resistance but finds himself in the middle of a raucous party thrown by the members, with many innocents scattered among them. The 21-year old virgin is eager to speak with Polly, the cute shortie with the curious earbud, only for her to become wide-eyes in mid conversation and turn away. Angered by the abrupt denial, Matthew turns his attention to the more lithe woman, who seduces him into a dark room. When the raid orchestrated by Jesus Pietro commences, Matthew is one of the few to escape the police cordon.
Matthew is soon embroiled in a manhunt, his fear of the Body Bank drives him to protect his innocence at the cost of appearing guilty. The Implementation can't find any proof of his resistance ties, but keeps the search ongoing. Matthew discovers a curious ability of his own, a sort of cloak of invisibility which renders his invisible when he is frightened. This "psychic invisibility" allows him to penetrate the Hospital, release his comrades-in-arms, and seclude themselves for the next big push in their anti-Crew agenda.
The most impressive part of A Gift From Earth is the setting: a California-sized plateau, the only inhabitable part of the planet, towering 40 miles over the molten surface, an atmosphere layered with noxious gases, the colony perched solely on this one piece of land. I said that Niven does wonders for world-building and it doesn't stop here. Like most of Niven's Known Space universe, the harvesting of body parts from criminals (even petty criminals) is wide-spread and helps keep crime down and life-expectancy high:
A criminal's pirated body can save a dozen lives. There is no valid argument against capital punishment for any given crime; for all such argument seeks to prove that killing a man does society no good. Hence the citizen, who wants to live as long and as healthy as possible, will vote any crime into a capital crime if the organ banks are short of material. (122-123)The colonists are under the assumption that their forefathers agreed to live under the ruling fist of the Crew when they fist landed on Mount Lookitthat. However, the secret is kept that th agreement was made under duress. Now, the Crew live like masters and the colonists are merely spare bodies waiting to be disassembled for their youthful parts: "... human beings come in two varieties: crew and colonist. [...] The Crew were masters, wise and benevolent, at least in the aggregate. The colonists were ordained to serve." (131)
Nevertheless, most Crew get on with their lives, like Matthew. The resistance is limited but presents a dichotomous picture of the female sex in the movement. There's the lithe Laney who is apt in many Crew-limited skills though a colonists herself, yet she describes herself as a type of comfort girl:
The Sons of Earth [the resistance group] are mostly men. Sometimes they get horribly depressed. Always planning, never actually fighting, never winning when they do, and always wondering if they aren't doing what Implementation wants. They can't even brag except to each other, because not all colonists are on our side. Then, sometimes, I can make them feel like men again. (168-169)Contrasting his is the industrious shortie, Polly Tournquist, who reconnoiters and isn't afraid to take the metaphorical bull by the horns. To see a small-packed heroine is a great relief compared to the usual sylphlike figures in most SF novels... but then again, I like short women. The rest of the Sons of Earth are forgettable.
Aside from the fantastic world-building, there's two flaws which strip this novel of two stars. I'm a big non-fan of using psychic abilities in science fiction. I find it silly and unfounded unless some technological bridge is there. So firstly, I find the non-science foundation of Matthew's "psychic invisibility" as silly. I waited for some explanation but was left high and dry with the psychic answer. Secondly and last, the entire resistance that Matthew throws up against the Crew and the Implementation is just too easy, it hardly lacks any resistance; there's no greater strife, no burning desire in Matthew can be found to propel his drive. I was left unconvinced.
I love the Known Space universe Niven has established and will most likely return to the pages of The Integral Trees (1984), Protector (1973), and all the stories including Neutron Star and Tales of Known Space (1975). A chronological reading of his Known Universe material should be called for in many years to come after I exhaust my current unread collection. It'll also be interesting to compare his early work with his more recent Building Harlequin's Moon (2005), which is also on my unread shelf.
1968: Stand on Zanzibar (Brunner, John)
Disassemble, consume, and relish (4/5)
From May 12, 2011
My 11th Brunner novel to-date and also one of my favorite Brunner novels because of its unique composition, epic subject matter and plot continuity. If you're like me, I love to dive head first into a novel without researching it, without reading the synopsis. In most cases, I'm wowed by nearly any novel's content simply on the basis that I'm surprised. But perhaps I should have braced myself for what lay in Zanzibar. I took it with me on a trans-Pacific flight, hoping that the sheer thickness of the novel would keep me attentive but the first fifty pages were so scatter-brained that I put it down and only picked it up again ten days later when I took the same flight back home... and still, it seemed scatter-brained. Only about one-third into the novel did I begin to feel comfortable with the composition.
Rear cover synopsis:
"This is a giant of a book, in many senses of the word. It had to be, to give elbow-room for its subject matter. There are seven billion-plus of our species crowding the surface of the twenty-first century Earth in an age of acceleratubes, Moonbase Zero, intelligent computers, mass marketed psycheddelics, politics by assassination, scientists who burn incense to appease volcanoes--hive-living hysteria that is reaching its bursting point all over the world. But a hive seldom knows about its madness until it's too late. Employing a dazzling range of literary techniques, John Brunner has created a future world as real as this morning's paper--moving, sensory, impressionistic, as jagged as the times it portrays. This book is a real mind-stretcher--yet beautifully orchestrated to give a vivid picture of the whole. Read it with care--move in with it--this may be where we're headed..."
Divvied up into four parts, each gives the reader a glimpse into the world Brunner has created:
The meat of the novel lays in "Continuity" where the two plot lines of Norman (headed for Beninia to establish a new economy) and Donald (headed to Yatagang under subterfuge) start as one and eventually split into the two said strands. Beginning as roommates, we're introduced to the lifestyles of their generation, the living conditions, the language, etc. This alone provides a detailed picture of the year 2010 where earth is being over-populated.
The second most important of the quartet is "Tracking with Close-ups" where the reader can catch glimpses of everyday life for a smattering of humans on earth: witness their decadence, see their plights and perils, come to understand the one drop in the ocean of flesh. These slices of life are more like short stories based in the Zanzibar world, each as minor as the next but like a flood, the torrent is composed of many small water droplets.
One less interesting aspect of Zanizbar is the inclusion of "Context" which highlights social troubles via the written works or spoken word of an author in the novel by the name of Mulligan (or sometime snippets of other conversations, songs and such fluff). Sometimes insightful, usually wordy and preachy but the best bits lay in "Hipcrime Vocab" where Brunner shows his mastery of wit and language akin to a modern-day Devil's Dictionary... all interesting, but not essential to the 650-page novel.
Lastly, there comes "The Happening World" where the novel should NOT have started the novel and which, really, added nothing at all to the overall picture. It's like stream-of-consciousness writing with no connectivity, no basis, no logic. No, thank you.
Even if I hate a book, I still read it cover-to-cover. But with Zanzibar, I found myself skipping much of the peripheral "Context" bits and nearly all of the obscure "Happening" sections. These two lines of page additions distracted me from the greater whole of the core plot: that of Donald and Norman in the context of an over-populated world and where one man, especially a changed man, can make a difference and how science, too, can push society one way (to greatness) or the other (off the cliff).
Zanzibar is a definite re-read but next time around I'll have that knowledge brace of knowing which chapters to skip and which chapters to focus on.
From May 12, 2011
My 11th Brunner novel to-date and also one of my favorite Brunner novels because of its unique composition, epic subject matter and plot continuity. If you're like me, I love to dive head first into a novel without researching it, without reading the synopsis. In most cases, I'm wowed by nearly any novel's content simply on the basis that I'm surprised. But perhaps I should have braced myself for what lay in Zanzibar. I took it with me on a trans-Pacific flight, hoping that the sheer thickness of the novel would keep me attentive but the first fifty pages were so scatter-brained that I put it down and only picked it up again ten days later when I took the same flight back home... and still, it seemed scatter-brained. Only about one-third into the novel did I begin to feel comfortable with the composition.
Rear cover synopsis:
"This is a giant of a book, in many senses of the word. It had to be, to give elbow-room for its subject matter. There are seven billion-plus of our species crowding the surface of the twenty-first century Earth in an age of acceleratubes, Moonbase Zero, intelligent computers, mass marketed psycheddelics, politics by assassination, scientists who burn incense to appease volcanoes--hive-living hysteria that is reaching its bursting point all over the world. But a hive seldom knows about its madness until it's too late. Employing a dazzling range of literary techniques, John Brunner has created a future world as real as this morning's paper--moving, sensory, impressionistic, as jagged as the times it portrays. This book is a real mind-stretcher--yet beautifully orchestrated to give a vivid picture of the whole. Read it with care--move in with it--this may be where we're headed..."
Divvied up into four parts, each gives the reader a glimpse into the world Brunner has created:
The meat of the novel lays in "Continuity" where the two plot lines of Norman (headed for Beninia to establish a new economy) and Donald (headed to Yatagang under subterfuge) start as one and eventually split into the two said strands. Beginning as roommates, we're introduced to the lifestyles of their generation, the living conditions, the language, etc. This alone provides a detailed picture of the year 2010 where earth is being over-populated.
The second most important of the quartet is "Tracking with Close-ups" where the reader can catch glimpses of everyday life for a smattering of humans on earth: witness their decadence, see their plights and perils, come to understand the one drop in the ocean of flesh. These slices of life are more like short stories based in the Zanzibar world, each as minor as the next but like a flood, the torrent is composed of many small water droplets.
One less interesting aspect of Zanizbar is the inclusion of "Context" which highlights social troubles via the written works or spoken word of an author in the novel by the name of Mulligan (or sometime snippets of other conversations, songs and such fluff). Sometimes insightful, usually wordy and preachy but the best bits lay in "Hipcrime Vocab" where Brunner shows his mastery of wit and language akin to a modern-day Devil's Dictionary... all interesting, but not essential to the 650-page novel.
Lastly, there comes "The Happening World" where the novel should NOT have started the novel and which, really, added nothing at all to the overall picture. It's like stream-of-consciousness writing with no connectivity, no basis, no logic. No, thank you.
Even if I hate a book, I still read it cover-to-cover. But with Zanzibar, I found myself skipping much of the peripheral "Context" bits and nearly all of the obscure "Happening" sections. These two lines of page additions distracted me from the greater whole of the core plot: that of Donald and Norman in the context of an over-populated world and where one man, especially a changed man, can make a difference and how science, too, can push society one way (to greatness) or the other (off the cliff).
Zanzibar is a definite re-read but next time around I'll have that knowledge brace of knowing which chapters to skip and which chapters to focus on.
Monday, May 28, 2012
1971: The Falling Astronauts (Malzberg, Barry N.)
Stagnant character, stagnant author (3/5)
My exposure to Barry M. Malzberg has been limited. I've only read his novel The Last Transaction, which was a character-fueled trip through the sex-driven private life of a US president. The amount and description of the sex is off-putting, but as least it was pertinent to character's state of mind. This EXACT SAME formula is used in The Falling Astronauts, but rather than the private life of a president, the focus is on the private life of a fallen astronaut. The similarity between the two unlinked book has me thinking that Malzberg just likes to lightly mold a near-future science fiction tale around his core concentration of sex--a sign of a weak author, in my opinion. Not too many novels use the 4-letter C-word, but it feels like Malzberg uses it with relish.
Rear cover synopsis:
"Colonel Richard Martin had been to the Moon and back, but he would never be sent on a mission again.
Martin had suffered a nervous breakdown while he orbited the Moon, and he couldn't be trusted to pilot an expensive space capsule anymore. So no Martin handled public relations for the space program, and after one more Moon launch his connection with the program would be completely ended.
But on one could foresee the strange disaster that would turn the coming space mission into a nightmare that only Martin, is anyone, could end..."
Martin wasn't sent to rove the lunar landscape, but he was given the command of the orbiting module. Alone in the cabin during the communications blackout, Martin is seized by a gripping impulsion to ignite the retro-rockets, leaving his two crewmen stranded on he lunar surface for dead, and sending himself rocketing into deep space or into the sun. The BUTTON beckons his attention, berating his refusal to act as an individual. Mentally breaking down, the rest of the mission is scrapped but the details are never released to the press.
Returning to Earth, Martin is again with his ill-adjusted wife who cannot tolerate the social atmosphere on the space program. Simply labeled as an "astronaut's wife", Susan is childless and anti-social. Her hatred of the atmosphere drives her weak relationship with her husband to the point that he can't even discuss his work problems with her. Shut out of her life, Martin is left to his own mental wreckage as his wife leaves him.
The declining interest in the space program has seen more and more press ignoring the details of each consecutive flight, which may be why Martin was temporarily placed as press liaison. His distant, curt manner is unsettling to the reporters who generally lack interest in any of the happenings at the project. One reporter in particular, Perkins, has a very crass attitude when posing questions, accusing the staff of hiding secrets and harboring information which should be shared with the public. Martin's patience wears thin with Perkin's ill manner, but the rest of congenial press sympathize with Martin's uncomfortable position.
The space agency is gearing up for another lunar flight when martin assumes his press liaison position. Martin would rather avoid all socialization, but the parties revolving around astronaut induction is one he isn't able to miss. The wives make their own awkward scene while Martin makes a few loose connections with the crew of the next flight: commander Allen is a husband but also a curiously friendly fellow, lieutenant colonel Davis is a pompous sociologist, and colonel Busby is a widower who shares the same position as Martin one had--module command.
The main focus of The Falling Astronauts in the internal drive which drove Martin to his temporary insanity and how he deals with the fallout during his desk job at the agency. His disconnection with other people is symptomatic of the acceptance of his personal limitations... and his failure. The sheer amount of training Martin endured had a negative characterization upon him; he sees himself as an individual, but the agency has trained him to be a part of a machine. His attachment to BUTTON in the lunar orbiter is part of his conditioning to be a machine, which should contrast his emotional attachment to the two members on the moon:
Amidst all of this social deconstruction and the internal debasement of Martin, the reader is shown glimpses of sexual deviation, shadows of their own reality only hinted at to the reader. Martin's own sexual deviation goes untold, but he mentions scatology four times and imagines this desire on his leaving wife once. A cross-section of the astronauts on the coming mission reveals only Allan's inability to cope with the stress of the program, which is veiled in a private interaction with Martin. The occasional hinting of sexuality is much more favorable than the blunt sex scenes, but combine the two and the reader begins to wonder what is making the author tick. Having read only two Malzberg novels, they share a very similar plot and emit an odd trait which reflects unfavorable upon the author.
The characterization I mention is a heavily condensed form than found in the novel. It often feels like the book is going nowhere; the reader waddles in the murk that is Martin's depression, slogs through the tides of disconnectedness with his personal and professional life, and stand on the precipice of the one-dimensional character of Martin. The stagnation has a purpose but behind the characterization there is very little going on, not even the supporting cast can lend a hand to its pacing.
If there's a Malzberg novel which deviates from his curious fixation, I'll happily pick it up, but Malzberg needs to present a different facet of his creativity which highlights science fiction as a dynamic genre, a realm of possibilities which he drags the reader through with a sexual agenda. Again, it's more of a distraction that anything when the author has so many routes of characterization to the same conclusion, Malzberg takes the easy way out time and again.
My exposure to Barry M. Malzberg has been limited. I've only read his novel The Last Transaction, which was a character-fueled trip through the sex-driven private life of a US president. The amount and description of the sex is off-putting, but as least it was pertinent to character's state of mind. This EXACT SAME formula is used in The Falling Astronauts, but rather than the private life of a president, the focus is on the private life of a fallen astronaut. The similarity between the two unlinked book has me thinking that Malzberg just likes to lightly mold a near-future science fiction tale around his core concentration of sex--a sign of a weak author, in my opinion. Not too many novels use the 4-letter C-word, but it feels like Malzberg uses it with relish.
Rear cover synopsis:
"Colonel Richard Martin had been to the Moon and back, but he would never be sent on a mission again.
Martin had suffered a nervous breakdown while he orbited the Moon, and he couldn't be trusted to pilot an expensive space capsule anymore. So no Martin handled public relations for the space program, and after one more Moon launch his connection with the program would be completely ended.
But on one could foresee the strange disaster that would turn the coming space mission into a nightmare that only Martin, is anyone, could end..."
Martin wasn't sent to rove the lunar landscape, but he was given the command of the orbiting module. Alone in the cabin during the communications blackout, Martin is seized by a gripping impulsion to ignite the retro-rockets, leaving his two crewmen stranded on he lunar surface for dead, and sending himself rocketing into deep space or into the sun. The BUTTON beckons his attention, berating his refusal to act as an individual. Mentally breaking down, the rest of the mission is scrapped but the details are never released to the press.
Returning to Earth, Martin is again with his ill-adjusted wife who cannot tolerate the social atmosphere on the space program. Simply labeled as an "astronaut's wife", Susan is childless and anti-social. Her hatred of the atmosphere drives her weak relationship with her husband to the point that he can't even discuss his work problems with her. Shut out of her life, Martin is left to his own mental wreckage as his wife leaves him.
The declining interest in the space program has seen more and more press ignoring the details of each consecutive flight, which may be why Martin was temporarily placed as press liaison. His distant, curt manner is unsettling to the reporters who generally lack interest in any of the happenings at the project. One reporter in particular, Perkins, has a very crass attitude when posing questions, accusing the staff of hiding secrets and harboring information which should be shared with the public. Martin's patience wears thin with Perkin's ill manner, but the rest of congenial press sympathize with Martin's uncomfortable position.
The space agency is gearing up for another lunar flight when martin assumes his press liaison position. Martin would rather avoid all socialization, but the parties revolving around astronaut induction is one he isn't able to miss. The wives make their own awkward scene while Martin makes a few loose connections with the crew of the next flight: commander Allen is a husband but also a curiously friendly fellow, lieutenant colonel Davis is a pompous sociologist, and colonel Busby is a widower who shares the same position as Martin one had--module command.
The main focus of The Falling Astronauts in the internal drive which drove Martin to his temporary insanity and how he deals with the fallout during his desk job at the agency. His disconnection with other people is symptomatic of the acceptance of his personal limitations... and his failure. The sheer amount of training Martin endured had a negative characterization upon him; he sees himself as an individual, but the agency has trained him to be a part of a machine. His attachment to BUTTON in the lunar orbiter is part of his conditioning to be a machine, which should contrast his emotional attachment to the two members on the moon:
SHOW THEM, the button had said, unpersuaded in its mercy, determined voice, SHOW THEM YOU ARE A MAN AND NOT A ROBOT. SHOW THEM THAT THEY CAN'T PUSH A MAN LIKE YOU AROUND WITH THEIR GODDAMNED SILLY ORDERS AND ARROGANCE BUT THAT YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND OF YOUR OWN AND YOU CANNOT BE TRIFLED WITH. (70-71)The single mechanical button overrides the importance of the two organic souls, his crewmates and fellow astronauts. The crux of the matter:
The ship... takes orbital fire and he feels his own guilt like a rosy glow inflaming his body; as the ship has taken power, so he has become a conductor for culpability and he feels himself burning: burning with darkening fire whose stains, if it were to surface, would mark him eternally. (109)The sociological aspect is often a focus, be it with group dynamics or general opinion on social interaction: "We make patterns; you always have configurations in human relationships totally apart from the personnel involved... The human factor is paramount." (53) Much of it point to our own patterns reinforcing or destroying the greater social fabric, but the importance of the individual is casually ignored. Martin understands the power one man has and he can project this sometimes demoralizing force onto what Busby may feel when he, too, will be in lunar orbit alone; however, Martin's disconnectedness finds him uncaring.
Amidst all of this social deconstruction and the internal debasement of Martin, the reader is shown glimpses of sexual deviation, shadows of their own reality only hinted at to the reader. Martin's own sexual deviation goes untold, but he mentions scatology four times and imagines this desire on his leaving wife once. A cross-section of the astronauts on the coming mission reveals only Allan's inability to cope with the stress of the program, which is veiled in a private interaction with Martin. The occasional hinting of sexuality is much more favorable than the blunt sex scenes, but combine the two and the reader begins to wonder what is making the author tick. Having read only two Malzberg novels, they share a very similar plot and emit an odd trait which reflects unfavorable upon the author.
The characterization I mention is a heavily condensed form than found in the novel. It often feels like the book is going nowhere; the reader waddles in the murk that is Martin's depression, slogs through the tides of disconnectedness with his personal and professional life, and stand on the precipice of the one-dimensional character of Martin. The stagnation has a purpose but behind the characterization there is very little going on, not even the supporting cast can lend a hand to its pacing.
If there's a Malzberg novel which deviates from his curious fixation, I'll happily pick it up, but Malzberg needs to present a different facet of his creativity which highlights science fiction as a dynamic genre, a realm of possibilities which he drags the reader through with a sexual agenda. Again, it's more of a distraction that anything when the author has so many routes of characterization to the same conclusion, Malzberg takes the easy way out time and again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)






