Collateral Bloggage What passes for thought around here…

Sci-Fi Friday: 2010

I toyed with the idea of going with Sci-Friday or Science Fiction Friday, or Sci-Fiday or some such, but ultimately went with something both pithy and easily understood. 

We spent last week at the beach, and I don’t know about other folks, but I don’t get much reading done while on vacation.  I didn’t pick up my Bible once, though the fact that I’m about three months ahead in my read-through softens the blow somewhat.  I really only read about half of a book.  Something about being at the seaside makes me want to read science fiction.  Normally I’ll just bring along Speaker for the Dead and call it good.  But since I had a sci-fi title on my To Be Read list, I figured I’d give it a go.

(BTW, sometimes one sees interesting wildlife at the beach.  Baby seal: very cute.  Dead adult seal and sea otter: not cute.  Cool, though.)

2010: Odyssey Two, by Arthur C. Clarke, is the sequel to the inimitable and enigmatic 2001: A Space Odyssey, the film version of which has been confusing people and causing less-than-honest people to lie about understanding it for about forty years now.

Somehow I expected 2010 to be its own story, but it’s really not.  I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.  2001 left a bunch of unanswered questions behind, and 2010 does a nice job of at least hinting at answers to most of them.  You find out a bit more of what happened to Dave Bowman,what happened with HAL, where the monoliths come from, and what the folks who sent them were trying to do.  So in that sense the book is a complete success.

More than anything, you really get a sense in this book of what an undertaking space travel would be, and all the variables that go into getting from one point to another.  Of course, it’s even more of an undertaking than Clarke imagined, seeing as how we don’t have bases on the moon or missions to Jupiter.  Bummer about that.

The book follows a joint United States/USSR team (Clarke wasn’t quite spot-on on his geopolitical futurism here) as they journey to find out what happened to the Discovery and try to salvage the failed mission.  The prose is nice and clear, the new Russian characters are quite enjoyable, and the suspense and mystery are solid.  I really have nothing bad to say about it.

My dad recommends that I don’t read the rest of the series.  And since he recommended another Clarke title, Childhood’s End, I think I’ll take his word for it.  I’m actually fine with reading only part of a series.  In fact, I’m so comfortable with stopping in the middle of something that I

(I kinda liked my little joke there.  But seriously I have very little else to say.  Except that I’ve started The Battle of the Labyrinth and it will probably be my next review.  Try to carry on until then.  Now, in the comments, you can tell me honestly if you thought my cutting off in the middle was deliberate or not.)

Wordful Wednesday: Slaughterhouse-five

Well, I finished reading Slaughterhouse-five, by Kurt Vonnegut, a couple of days ago, and I’m still not quite sure what to make of it.  It’s certainly interesting, and I’ve never read another book quite like it.  And I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.  But I’m still, as I often say at home, cornfused.

For those who know absolutely nothing about the book, it’s semi-autobiographical, in that it has scenes (no better way to describe them) from Vonnegut’s experiences as a POW during the firebombing of Dresden in WWII.  But it’s also a science-fiction story, following the protagonist (Billy Pilgrim) on his skipping through time, from his pre-capture days after the Battle of the Bulge, to his captivity in Dresden and earlier, to his late life as a widower and general crazy person, to his captivity and display in the zoos of the planet Tralfamadore.  You read that last sentence correctly.

Needless to say, we’re looking at non-linear storytelling here.  At first, I understood that Billy became unstuck in time as a result of his capture by the Tralfamadorians, and so the structure of the book resulted from that.  But as I read on, I realized that the other main feature of the book, an undercurrent of fatalism, also sprang from the loins of that event.

“So it goes,” is repeated dozens of times, normally accompanying what one would probably term bad news.  Someone dies.  So it goes.  Someone suffers.  So it goes.  I’m not sure how many times the phrase is repeated, but it’s definitely in the dozens.  Anybody have that bit of trivia for me?

Of course, the fatalism comes from the nature of the Tralfamadorians’ experience of time, and from Billy Pilgrim’s knowledge of the larger arc of his life, including his death.

Slaughterhouse-five is considered an anti-war classic, but I didn’t feel that Vonnegut exactly hammered on any particular anti-war point.  He certainly portrayed the horrors of the Dresden bombings, though the fatalistic “so it goes” refrain makes an odd juxtaposition.  I’m not sure that even the most pro-war partisan could defend the Dresden bombings, though.

I’m afraid I don’t have much else to say about the book, except that I’ve read that it’s among Vonnegut’s more coherent works, and I find that fairly hard to believe. 

I should also mention that there’s a bit of adult content in the book, including an (as far as I can tell) entirely unnecessary doodle of a woman’s bare chest (focusing on the locket she wears).  I’ve read that the book was banned fairly widely as a result of the questionable content, but I didn’t find it to be overly graphic.

Oh, and this is another title off my To Be Read list.  Woo!

Next up might be The Black Cauldron.  Or The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.  So it goes.

Fiction Friday: Childhood’s End

Back in November when I read 2001: A Space Odyssey, my dad recommended another Arthur C. Clarke title.  Dad knows his stuff.

Childhood’s End is about a lot.  The more I’ve thought about it, the more layers I’ve found in the story, even though the actual plot is fairly simple.

In many ways, it’s like the new V show.  Aliens show up, flash their superior technology, and offer to help humanity out.  Whether the Overlords in Childhood’s End ever turn out to be evil, I won’t reveal.

One of the core questions in the book is actually sociological and psychological:  Take away suffering and striving, and what is humanity left with?  Most of us probably think it’d be great to be free of striving after our wants and needs.  And on an individual basis, it’s probably true that it’d be pretty terrific.

But what if all of humanity suddenly had nothing to strive for?  What would happen to science?  To art?  To society?  (Clarke also has religion taken out of the picture, which is a popular science-fiction author’s daydream, but I have to be honest that it is necessary to the plot of the novel.)

Another question involves the idea of a mind in the cosmos, but I can’t write much about it without giving away the core mystery in the book.  (Of course, as a Christian, there’s no question to me of their being a Mind in the cosmos.)

As I said, this isn’t a complicated story.  There aren’t plots and subplots, but the narrative shifts through different eras of humanity’s interaction with the Overlords.  And each time, the reader sees more of who and what the Overlords are, and I found myself sympathizing with them and even feeling sorry for them.  But again, I can’t reveal too much without completely spoiling the book.

I really admired how Clarke didn’t leave any plot points dangling.  One character, in particular, leaves the narrative for a good portion of the book, and I had no idea how he would be important again in the story.  But he was.  And there was an odd section showing how the humans of The Golden Age entertained themselves, involving, of all things, a Ouija Board.  I had no idea how the scene could possibly be significant to the story.  But it was.

I’d love to see a film adaptation of this book, but I think it would be a strange movie.  Because I’m not sure how the climax of the book would look.  In fact, when I think about it, 2001 has some strikingly similar concepts in it.  Hmm.  I’ll have to google it.

Not sure what’s next up.  I have a mop-up non-fiction from last year to finish, and I just started The Princess Bride.

Fiction Friday: 2001

I’ve sometimes wondered if 2001: A Space Odyssey was a test to ferret out pretentious film geeks.  Anyone claiming to understand it would be nailed.

The Fair Elaine and I watched it a few years ago and just kind of sat there in a very “Umm…what?” kind of way when the film ended.

But, assured (by my esteemed colleague in pavement pounding) that the novel, by Arthur C. Clarke, made more sense, I picked it up at the Library Used Book Sale.

And it certainly made a ton more sense than the movie.  Due to, you know, actual words being used.  From the opening scene with the ape-men, and even to the end with the Star Child, the book beats the ever-living snot out of the movie, in terms of sense-making.

One other reason I picked up this book was that, well, next year is 2010, and I felt I should maybe read that book.  So I had to read the first volume first.  Now I’m kind of regretting that I didn’t pick up the whole series when I had the chance (at the book sale). 

(I also want to see the 2010 movie.)

I do have to admit that the ending of the book is still somewhat confusing, but it’s a far cry from the brain twister of the film.

If you’ve seen the film, you’ll probably enjoy the book more.  I know, right?  That never happens!  If you haven’t seen it, I’d actually suggest reading the book first, then viewing the movie through its lens.

I’ve got another review queued up for later today, so check back if you’re interested in reading my impressions of Brighty of the Grand Canyon.

Wordful Wednesday: Slan

I’ve written lately a couple of times about my quest to read “real” science fiction, chiefly as propounded by Mr. Harlan Ellison.  He held up A.E. Van Vogt as an example of a “real” science fiction author.

So, I looked him up.  And I found one of his classic works, Slan, and gave it a read.  Unfortunately, it just didn’t really live up to the hype.

Oh, it started off well enough, I suppose, and the world of Slan was fascinating to some extent.  But the ending really left much to be desired.

The action follows two main characters for most of the book, and they’re both slans, which are basically humans with enhanced abilities.  Tougher, faster, stronger, longer-lived, and with the ability to read minds.

The mindreading ability comes from the distinctive tendrils that grow alongside normal human hair, making a slan pretty easy to spot.  And, as the book opens, being spotted means being bagged and tagged.  And the bag is a body bag.

Yep, it’s open season on slans, with the sponsorship of the government.  We get a vague idea of the heavy anti-slan propaganda used to beat the proles into a feeding frenzy.  If you tell normal humans that these freaks are experimenting on their children, it raises their ire somewhat.

In the first few pages, young Jommy Cross (nine years old, I believe) has to run from the police with his mother, who is soon caught and killed.  Jommy escapes only due to cooperating with a very unsavory character who looks to use him as a tool to gain wealth.

Jommy realizes he needs the protection of this loathesome person (“Granny,” and yes, she’s an old, nasty lady), so he goes along, thinking that he’ll mature in secret, then try to fulfill his mission later.

His mission?  Something about finding the other slans hidden throughout the world, bringing them the secrets Jommy’s father left to him to develop, and freeing the world of human tyranny (personified in the dictator Kier Gray).

Meanwhile, another slan named Kathleen is being held as a semi-free prisoner at the Palace, where Kier Gray rules.  And he jumps through hoop after hoop to protect her from the head of the anti-slan police.  But Kathleen is always seemingly just a few hours from being executed.  That would have to wear on a person, I’d think.

While Jommy is taking shelter with Granny, he discovers another class of slans:  The Tendriless Slans, who naturally can’t read minds.  Oh, and they’re not big fans of the mindreading ones.  So Jommy’s got a two-front war he knows he’ll have to fight eventually.

In an effective scene, Jommy dialogues with one of the non-tendriled types and finds out that much of the anti-slan propaganda might actually be true.  And he learns that slans were created through human experimentation by a certain Dr. Samuel Lann (S. Lann = “slan”).

The first half of the book builds nicely, until all of the sudden, Jommy discovers his father’s secret cache of scientific documents, understands them, and builds indestructible cars and spacecraft and creates world-beating weapons so he’s effectively a one-man-army.  Who, of course, would rather not fight.

It happens so quickly (in one very short chapter) that there’s no sense of Jommy having earned his newfound power.  Add to that the fact that he uses his mind-reading ability to mind-trick humans into helping him.  Which isn’t violence in a murdering-people kind of way, but it’s not exactly a Good Guy thing to do, taking away people’s free will.

The climax of the book was horribly disappointing, and it all ended with a short talky section in which an obvious twist was revealed (you may’ve guessed it already) and a less obvious but still stupid one was also revealed.  And a whole other section of the slan vs. tendriless slan conflict was just completely dropped.

And then it just ended.  I actually checked the library listing to make sure I wasn’t missing a few chapters.  It really just ended.  For all the whining I’ve done about how Michael Crichton never learned how to end a book, this one really took the cake.

Look, I’m okay with an ambiguous ending to a book.  Ender’s Game, one of my favorite books, has Ender heading off into space on a mission that could take him the rest of his life (though if you read Speaker for the Dead, you’ll see it doesn’t).  But first, Orson Scott Card wrapped up the main plotline!!!!!

I may have to find another Van Vogt title to see if this is a systemic problem.

It probably looks like I really hated the book, and that’s just not the case.  I liked Jommy Cross, and I’d have liked to read about him for a little longer.  I liked the way the plot was set up.  I just didn’t like the way it fell apart at the end.

BTW, this book was written over sixty years ago, and it showed in the way Van Vogt predicted atomic energy being used.  Not that he couldn’t be right about it, I suppose, but some of his ideas for technology were just interesting.  For instance, he had Jommy inventing weapons using “directed atomic energy” (no radiation, of course), but the humans couldn’t detect the fact that the tendriless slans had been launching spacecraft for decades.  Atomic-based weapons: yes.  Simple radar: no.

He also had Mars with oceans.  And habitable.  It’s an indicator of Van Vogt’s time, I suppose.

So now I’ve read one of the classic science fiction stories from the Golden Age of Sci-Fi, and I’m pretty much “meh” on it.

By the way, I’d definitely take recommendations on classic sci-fi I should read.  I’ve read H.G. Wells, and a bit of Asimov (not Foundation, though, and I recognize I need to).  Any other suggestions?

Fiction Friday: The Hunger Games

Yes, okay, technically the other two book reviews I've posted this week were also fiction.  But it's Friday!  How can I not go with alliteration?  It's true I may have a disorder that demands I alliterate over and over again.  We'll call it Iterative Alliteration Disorder.  Anyhoo...

It seems everyone else has read The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins, so I figured it was high time I did it.  The fact that the sequel is currently out is a good thing, too, because that way I don’t have to wait for it (but since it’s a trilogy, I suppose there’s no rush).

I’ve described it to curious friends (and my wife, who didn’t ask) as The Running Man, but with kids.  Which is puzzling for a supposedly Young Adult book.  But, there’s no language and no sex, so what are a few spearings and shootings?

It’s not really a criticism, as the book is far from gory.

The setup is quite simple:  Bad stuff has happened in North America, and The Capitol has risen to power and brought order to the once fragile continent.  As long as you’re in The Capitol.  The rest of the country is divided into districts, and the further out you get, the rougher life is.

Add to that the fact that the government holds a lottery of sorts (called The Reaping), in which two adolescents (called tributes) are selected from each of the twelve districts to compete in an outdoor last-man-standing competition (called The Hunger Games).

That’s right:  Twenty-four kids go in, one comes out alive.

Our protagonist, Katniss Everdeen (16 years old) volunteers when her younger sister is selected.  Another boy, who once helped Katniss when her family was starving, is also selected.

So now we have two sympathetic characters and we have to root for one of them to kill the other at some point.  It plays with your head a bit.  In order to root for the protagonist, you have to cheer for her to kill all the others, or at least live on after they all die off.

Because Katniss’s rough life in District Twelve prepares her for the deprivation and brutality of the Games.

How do the Games work?  Do you form alliances, knowing that eventually you’ll have to turn on each other?  Do you become something you really aren’t?  What kind of a government would do this?

(It seems way out there, but it’s not like we’ve never had government-sponsored brutality.)

The book is told from Katniss’s perspective, in the first person.  So we never really know what’s going on in anyone else’s head.  Which would be nice, especially when Peeta (the District Twelve boy) seems to betray his fellow tribute.

I won’t spoil anything about the rest of the plot, except to say that there’s a sequel.  Make of that what you will.

The book is very exciting, and I never got even slightly bored with the narrative.  I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the series.