I'm almost certain I've read a few of Doctorow's stories before, likely in Asimov's SF magazine back in the days when it used to be produced in braille, but I don't recall my impression of him at the time other than a vague idea that he liked to play with the concept of technologically assisted evolution. Here I am with my first anthology of Doctorow shorts, some of which have ended up in some pretty mainstream magazines, as well as having a story featured in the Best American Short Stories anholoty edited by Michael CCabon.
The tales are interesting, sometimes even well written. I found myself really impressed by Doctorow's ability to think through a contemporary situation and extrapolate something that's so very close to what we know. The stories largely seem very probable, in other words, even if they deal with some far-flung concepts. His settings feel very real (two of the stories are set in my home city, which helped in my case, at least), and characters are nicely depicted in well-drawn shades of grey. Doctorow clearly has a few axes to grind with respect to the notions of copyrights, trademarks and technology's effect on economic futures all over the globe, and this is a theme that runs through most of the stories here.
Unfortunately Doctorow seems to have a problem with endings. Only the very shortest story in this book ends in what I would consider a satisfactory fashion, and to be frank it's barely consequential and more of an "intro piece" here than anything else. Conflict also doesn't seem very high on Doctorow's list of literary priorities, so that while the idea of conflict certainly exists in every story, said struggle is never really resolved in a way that seems credible, or is sometimes even glossed over entirely by the author merely telling us about what finally happened in the closing paragraphs.
The book is short, so I may as well talk a little of each story individually. Some spoilers, probably, but I'll try and keep them to a minimum.
Printcrime:
A short-short describing how replication technology (that is, the duplication of material objects through digital means) will impact intellectual property and law enforcement. The ending earned a nod from me. This little piece is an excellent way to start off the anthology.
When Sysadmins Ruled the Earth:
Here, Doctorow uses his background as a systems' administrator to hypothesise what would happen to the guys trying to keep the Internet up and running from their hermetic server cages while the world's infrastructure collapsed due to biological, nuclear and incendiary attack. The loneliness of these people, and their hope, are depicted with stark clarity, and not once did I get a sense that any of these things could never happen. Usually I don't give a toss for overblown efforts at realism in science fiction, but I recognise that for stories like this one, it's really important. Of course the ending is a rush job and the small conflict developing among the admins basically just simmers for a bit and then dies, but in this tale it's almost fitting and perhaps had to be this way.
Anda's Game:
The first of a few tributes to older writers' SF stories in here, twisting, of course, the title of Orson Scott Carde's famous depiction of a boy playing games to win a war, and in a way offering an answer or a different perspective on a similar situation. There are also a load of Ray Bradbury references in here, and though I haven't actually read a great deal of Bradbury, it was fun to spot them. This one's about a lonely, overweight English girl whose addicted to the rush of an online fantasy RPG, and how she discovers that little girls in a Mexican sweatshop are being used as wage slaves to click mice and generate gold which is then sold on EBay, and how a rival factory sends children like herself on quest missions in the game to kill their hapless characters. This story is quite cathartic and there are a couple of hearth-wrenching moments. It also seems to have gotten Doctorow a lot of attention in mainstream press. I found it ultimately a bit unsatisfying, though. Again, it's that sense of barely resolved and barely-accounted-for conflict, I think, and the fact that a couple of things about the story just don't seem to make a lot of sense. The big coup basically happens offstage and we never learn why, for example, the leader of the Farrenheit clan, who for some reason goes to schools and encourages girls to play RPGs, ends up supporting the cause of the two young friends fighting for the freedom of the Mexican workers, when presumably she sanctioned their kill missions in the first place. Apart from making young Anda a very sympathetic character, I was impressed by Doctorow's accurate portrayal of gaming culture in both its most positive and negative aspects.
I, ROBOT:
Obviously, this one plays a great deal with Asimov's tropes, but Doctorow has imagined a company like Asimov's US Robotics operating in a sort of dystopian North America. He also borrows some terminology and the eternal war situation from 1984. But while 1984 shows Eurasia and Oceana as basically being two sides of the same sort of scenario, Doctorow's Eurasia seems to be a heavenly utopia of technological, intellectual and artistic progress whereas the UNATS regions are backwards, sheep-like, supersticious and ruled by fear and repression. This one's protagonist is a divorced Toronto cop with a troublesome daughter who neglects her school and so forth so she can engage in illegal activities, much to her father's chagrin. The officer follows the party line implicitly until his daughter goes missing, which sets in motion a chain of events which will lead him to break a number of rules and ultimately to reunite with his defected ex-wife. I appreciated how Arturo, the cop in question, was shown to be a hardened and none-too-likable man, yet ultimately a well-intentioned one who really cared for his young daughter, despite his blustery threats and posturing. What I did not really take to was the simplistic nature of the revelations that come fast and furious by the end. It was particularly frustrating because the tone set in the first several pages is one of intrigue and tension, with a nearly dystopian-noir feeling that I found eminently appealing. But, damnit, Eurasia is just so perfect, and so far ahead of everyone else, and we should all, apparently, embrace the idea of multiple clones of ourselves running in parallel, and harmonious social matrimony with robotics, and in Eurasia they don't even have any crime. At one point the police find a robot assassins designed to disable UNATS robots, and upon capture it begins to spout slogans about the greatness of Eurasia and its achievements, and how well it treats defectors. One of the lab workers muses that the machines like to "drop into propaganda mode" when captured. Well, once Arturo's ex-wife shows up, I felt like Cory Doctorow had dropped into some kind of propaganda mode of his own. Call me a cynic, if you will, but I simply refuse to believe in this kind of dualism: This side, all bad, backwards and horrible; that side, a bastion of wonder and progress. The "estrange family reunited" maudlinness at the end made me feel a little queasy inside.
I, Row-Boat
Well, here we go: A story about a lonely robot-row-boat operating as an attachment to a ship that takes humans on deep-sea dives somewhere off the Australian coral coast. Machines have attained sentience, but most of them decide to shut down their awareness once humanity leaves the Earth and uploads its consciousness en masse to some kind of shiny digital wonderworld network spanning the vast solar system and all its satellites. Humans can download themselves into "body shells" at will to experience flesh sensations, and a religion called Asimovism has grown rampant among the remaining self-aware robots which operates on the precepts of Asimov's Three Laws. Animals have also been "uplifted" into intelligence (I believe this concept was borrowed from David Bryn), and the premise of this tale is that a coral reef has been "awakened" and is none too happy with humanity infesting its waters. it took me a bit to warm to this one, but I eventually grew rather fascinated by it. The philosophical discussions between Robbie the Row-Boat and the entity calling itself R. Daneel Olivaw, a sort of Asimovism guru (naturally), are quite interesting even if they ultimately don't seem to lead anywhere. I laughed at the notion of IMs and Wikipedia still being around in this hyper-evolved future time. What also fascinated me--and I may be revealing a little about myself by saying this--is that in my gut I feel rather apprehensive about the idea of these kinds of far-flung human evolutions. Would you jetison your body if it meant you could flit among the satellites and planets, existing inside servers and machines and capable of performing vast computations at the level of millions per second? I admit it, the "cybernetic future" unsettles me--I grew up with the kind of stories that were warnings about just this sort of thing: That it meant loss of individuality, emotion, that our bodies and earthly "meat" are of paramount importance, and that we should not put our faith in machines and their like. I suspect for people like Doctorow, quite the reverse is true--and he isn't necessarily saying we ought to put "faith" in machines, but rather that freedom from our earthly forms will mean we will be able to clean up the planet and reawaken nature to something like its former glory, only, perhaps, improved. What startled me I think was that this story made me pause and examine my own mindset, and wonder why it is exactly that I balk at the notion of such shattering techno-evolutionary changes. We may get there very, very slowly, and in tiny increments, but it seems very likely that humans will become more and more cybernetised in the coming centuries. To his credit, Doctorow does examine this issue in some depth and from more than one angle, so he doesn't really come across like a raving technophile. Again, the ending was simultaneously a bit too perfect and yet not perfect or satisfying at all.
After the Siege:
Using his grandmother's struggle in Leningrad of the 1940s as a basis, Doctorow weaves this tense and heavy story of a future city deemed guilty of some kind of intellectual property violation (they use "pritners" to copy vast quantities of matter so that everyone will be fed and so poverty will not exist) and placed under siege by a group of nations, led, apparently, by the USA. The country in which this tale takes place is never named, but the feeling is certainly rather Eastern european, and the society depicted probably communist. The protagonist is a young girl, again, and the story shows how she must struggle as her world dies all around her. Bio-weapon-inflicted zombiism runs rampant in the city, and food is scarce, power nonexistent, and the corpses of her family and friends pile up all around her. This is a grave tale and I found that, perhaps due to Doctorow's personal connection with the subject matter, his writing attained a peak here. There's a little more to the story, too: young Vale discovers a man living on the outskirts of the city with an unbelievable quantity of food, fine clothes, and other unheard-of amenities. Doctorow writes the story in such a way that for pages you think this "Wizard" is working for the city's enemy, but the truth is, in some respects, worse. Doctorow seems to be making some pretty pointed social commentary here, especially about the filthy nature of appeasement and the inaction of bodies like the United Nations. At one point a character of the Wizard's entourage says something like: "it's one thing to chastise your enemies for their slaughter, and quite another to put an end to it". A fine message; one which I agree with wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, once again, we have an ending that falls a bit flat for me, and even the elevated writing can't really prevent me from rolling my eyes when there's an inexplicably maudlin and pseudo-romantic last page. I would have also liked to have understood the conflict between the city and its rivals a little better. Presumably the enemy also have "printers", and the Wizard certainly does, so what's the problem, exactly? I suppose it's that the city wanted to make such technology available freely to all peoples, and the North Americans/EU, driven by corporate interests, wanted to force a high price for their product. Still, this could certainly have been more elucidated or discussed in the text. Good story though, up until the last few pages.
There you have it. I found this to be a very interesting read even though I feel like coming down hard on some of the tales. I don't think I'll be rushing out to buy more Doctorow books, but if another crosses my path I will probably read with engagement.