What do you think?
Rate this book
A City in the North
Toyon was a Terran, powerful in his own sector of the galaxy, but here on the planet of Hoep-Hanninah, he was a tourist who did not speak the language.
Toyon was a brilliant man, but to the apelike, expressionless natives of this planet, he was a threat.
Toyon had a dream he was determined to realize: to travel to the ruined city in the north and explore it. But the Hanninah were as determined to thward him; for in the path of his expedition to the ruins lay the secret of their survival.
Toyon was a brilliant man, but to the apelike, expressionless natives of this planet, he was a threat.
Toyon had a dream he was determined to realize: to travel to the ruined city in the north and explore it. But the Hanninah were as determined to thward him; for in the path of his expedition to the ruins lay the secret of their survival.
- GenresScience FictionFiction
222 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1976
25 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
December 6, 2020
I realized something the day I left for a weekend backpacking trip through the beautiful Laurel Highlands: I needed a book. My current book,
A Door Into Ocean
, was delightful and would feel right at home among nature, but at 400+ pages, I wasn't thrilled at piling it atop my other 20lbs of gear. On the trail, every gram counts.
I was also (socially distance-ly) backpacking with my dear sister-in-law, who I knew goes to bed much earlier than I do. I needed a book good enough to keep me busy for hours; randomly grabbing a small-ish book from the shelf was a gamble. What to do?
Marta Randall to the rescue. I adored Islands despite the weird metaphysical hocus-pocus-y ending and had been meaning to come back to her. Enter: A City In The North. At 222 pages, it's half the length—and half the weight—of A Door Into Ocean. Literally. I weighed them.
Based on Marta Randall's incredible skill, I knew A City In The North was going to be infinitely less hokey than the cover implied*, but damn. Novels from the 1970s knew how to get it done. At only 222 pages, with a font bigger than average, there is so much covered in this sweet little book.
The premise is simple: Toyon Sutak is low-key obsessed with a ruin he saw in primary school that filled his imagination and spurred him from his family's simple farming life to owning a shipping conglomerate.
Named Hoep Tashik, the ruin exists on a planet where the locals—called Hannin—are described as "ape-like" and "un-expressive." They're peaceful, but there's a problem: they've successfully petitioned the galactic government to make most of their world—including Hoep Tashik—restricted to outsiders. Toyon, however, isn't concerned. Along with his wife, Alin Kennerin, he arrives on Hoep-Hanninah, convinced he can persuade the Hannin to make an exception for him.
This is the premise, not the plot. The plot is rooted in Toyon's desire but is not as simple as "man overcomes obstacles to explore ruin." I'm reticent to tell you much more, though, as I adored not knowing which way things were shifting or what to expect. I felt a bit like Toyon myself, watching bewildered as unfamiliar people and aliens behave in ways I didn't understand, but wanted to, all while wondering how ... everything affected the plot.
In many ways, A City In The North reminds me of Nancy Kress's *amazing* In An Alien Light . The obvious comparison is the notion of a "premise" story. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, I explain it in detail in the In An Alien Light review, linked to above.
It's more than that, however. The interaction of Toyon, Alin, and other humans with the dramatically alien Hannin evokes a similar mesmerizing otherness to Kress's human-alien dynamics. Again I read, hungrily, to see if these strange creatures would live up to my hopes for them, and puzzled when the boundary between human and alien blurred.
It was also interesting to read A City In The North during/directly after A Door Into Ocean. Both stories display a previously independent world reacting to the presence of corporations/traders interested exclusively in the planet's resources. Both stories feature non-violent native populations displeased with the change but struggling with how to handle it.
What makes this comparison fascinating, however, is the differences. There's the topical: in 222 pages, I don't feel like I get to know the characters as intimately, despite them feeling like fully-fledged people. There's also less world-building; almost every world ties directly into the plot. The biggest and most thought-provoking difference, however, is between the Sharers of A Door Into Ocean and the Hannin. Despite all their purple skin, webbed digits, and the ability to procreate without men, the Sharers are human. The Hannin are not. And this anthropological—even ethnological—puzzle is what drives the novel.
Perhaps there are some questions left unanswered throughout the story, some ideas are explained in a rush, and the ending is a little more open-ended than I prefer (what can I say, I'm a sucker for a denouement), but I found A City In The North to be a fascinating, thought-provoking read with plenty of substance and even beauty despite its short length.
TW, there is a short depiction of an obviously sexually abusive relationship between an adult (male) villain and a boy. Nothing explicit happens, the depiction is very short, and it only comes up once to really demonize the villain, but it’s there. It’s, imo, the weakest part of the novel and entirely unnecessary, but it’s there. Fair warning.
*The cover is that sort of so-dreadful-it's-amazing. Apologies to Vincent DiFate, but it's true. He can be an incredible artist, mind you. Just not ... here.
(I read old fantasy and sci-fi novels written by women authors in search of forgotten gems. See more at forfemfan.com)
I was also (socially distance-ly) backpacking with my dear sister-in-law, who I knew goes to bed much earlier than I do. I needed a book good enough to keep me busy for hours; randomly grabbing a small-ish book from the shelf was a gamble. What to do?
Marta Randall to the rescue. I adored Islands despite the weird metaphysical hocus-pocus-y ending and had been meaning to come back to her. Enter: A City In The North. At 222 pages, it's half the length—and half the weight—of A Door Into Ocean. Literally. I weighed them.
Based on Marta Randall's incredible skill, I knew A City In The North was going to be infinitely less hokey than the cover implied*, but damn. Novels from the 1970s knew how to get it done. At only 222 pages, with a font bigger than average, there is so much covered in this sweet little book.
The premise is simple: Toyon Sutak is low-key obsessed with a ruin he saw in primary school that filled his imagination and spurred him from his family's simple farming life to owning a shipping conglomerate.
Named Hoep Tashik, the ruin exists on a planet where the locals—called Hannin—are described as "ape-like" and "un-expressive." They're peaceful, but there's a problem: they've successfully petitioned the galactic government to make most of their world—including Hoep Tashik—restricted to outsiders. Toyon, however, isn't concerned. Along with his wife, Alin Kennerin, he arrives on Hoep-Hanninah, convinced he can persuade the Hannin to make an exception for him.
This is the premise, not the plot. The plot is rooted in Toyon's desire but is not as simple as "man overcomes obstacles to explore ruin." I'm reticent to tell you much more, though, as I adored not knowing which way things were shifting or what to expect. I felt a bit like Toyon myself, watching bewildered as unfamiliar people and aliens behave in ways I didn't understand, but wanted to, all while wondering how ... everything affected the plot.
In many ways, A City In The North reminds me of Nancy Kress's *amazing* In An Alien Light . The obvious comparison is the notion of a "premise" story. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, I explain it in detail in the In An Alien Light review, linked to above.
It's more than that, however. The interaction of Toyon, Alin, and other humans with the dramatically alien Hannin evokes a similar mesmerizing otherness to Kress's human-alien dynamics. Again I read, hungrily, to see if these strange creatures would live up to my hopes for them, and puzzled when the boundary between human and alien blurred.
It was also interesting to read A City In The North during/directly after A Door Into Ocean. Both stories display a previously independent world reacting to the presence of corporations/traders interested exclusively in the planet's resources. Both stories feature non-violent native populations displeased with the change but struggling with how to handle it.
What makes this comparison fascinating, however, is the differences. There's the topical: in 222 pages, I don't feel like I get to know the characters as intimately, despite them feeling like fully-fledged people. There's also less world-building; almost every world ties directly into the plot. The biggest and most thought-provoking difference, however, is between the Sharers of A Door Into Ocean and the Hannin. Despite all their purple skin, webbed digits, and the ability to procreate without men, the Sharers are human. The Hannin are not. And this anthropological—even ethnological—puzzle is what drives the novel.
Perhaps there are some questions left unanswered throughout the story, some ideas are explained in a rush, and the ending is a little more open-ended than I prefer (what can I say, I'm a sucker for a denouement), but I found A City In The North to be a fascinating, thought-provoking read with plenty of substance and even beauty despite its short length.
TW, there is a short depiction of an obviously sexually abusive relationship between an adult (male) villain and a boy. Nothing explicit happens, the depiction is very short, and it only comes up once to really demonize the villain, but it’s there. It’s, imo, the weakest part of the novel and entirely unnecessary, but it’s there. Fair warning.
*The cover is that sort of so-dreadful-it's-amazing. Apologies to Vincent DiFate, but it's true. He can be an incredible artist, mind you. Just not ... here.
(I read old fantasy and sci-fi novels written by women authors in search of forgotten gems. See more at forfemfan.com)
May 18, 2025
When Toyon was a boy, he became enthralled with holographic recordings taken by early human explorers on the planet Hoep-Hanninah. These videos showed a single sprawling continent, and in the deserts to the North, the ancient ruins of an abandoned city. As an adult, Toyon has become an interplanetary shipping tycoon and along with his equally successful wife Alin, he finally makes the journey to the mysterious planet to see the ruins that he's spent his life obsessing over.
Touching down in the small human colony on the planet, the pair must seek permission from the native alien life forms - the ape-like, nomadic Hanninah. Much to the local human governor's surprise, the humans are given permission to make the journey to the forgotten city of Tashik, setting in motion an epic journey and a deadly pursuit. This plot set up reminded me of Robert Silverberg's 'Downward to the Earth', with shades of 'Planet of the Apes' thrown into the mix. Much like a Silverberg story, this book sees the characters embarking on an inward expedition as well as the outward one, weaving in some strange transcendent elements toward a potential redemption, spiritual ascendence or psychedelic enlightenment.
It's a shame, then, that Marta Randall doesn't have the literary prowess of Silverberg, nor the satisfying conclusion needed to really drive this one home. In the middle of the book, there is a notable lull in the pacing, shifting from an eventful opening into a meandering slog. Randall seems to have a bizarre fascination with the toiletry habits of her characters and the local wildlife, mentioning it so often that I couldn't help but question her intent with its prominence. Perhaps she was really trying to highlight the practicalities of travelling across an alien landscape, but it struck me as an unusual quirk. I think that the aliens are quite well considered, and there are some nice environmental and ecological details that I enjoyed.
This is not a great book, but there is some interesting substance to be found beyond the average writing, the cartoonish characters and the awkward pacing.
Touching down in the small human colony on the planet, the pair must seek permission from the native alien life forms - the ape-like, nomadic Hanninah. Much to the local human governor's surprise, the humans are given permission to make the journey to the forgotten city of Tashik, setting in motion an epic journey and a deadly pursuit. This plot set up reminded me of Robert Silverberg's 'Downward to the Earth', with shades of 'Planet of the Apes' thrown into the mix. Much like a Silverberg story, this book sees the characters embarking on an inward expedition as well as the outward one, weaving in some strange transcendent elements toward a potential redemption, spiritual ascendence or psychedelic enlightenment.
It's a shame, then, that Marta Randall doesn't have the literary prowess of Silverberg, nor the satisfying conclusion needed to really drive this one home. In the middle of the book, there is a notable lull in the pacing, shifting from an eventful opening into a meandering slog. Randall seems to have a bizarre fascination with the toiletry habits of her characters and the local wildlife, mentioning it so often that I couldn't help but question her intent with its prominence. Perhaps she was really trying to highlight the practicalities of travelling across an alien landscape, but it struck me as an unusual quirk. I think that the aliens are quite well considered, and there are some nice environmental and ecological details that I enjoyed.
This is not a great book, but there is some interesting substance to be found beyond the average writing, the cartoonish characters and the awkward pacing.
April 20, 2020
Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...
"Marta Randall’s A City in the North (1976), is a work of anthropological SF that focuses on “authentic” relationships between its human and alien characters (see note). A commentary on the societal effects and cultural disconnects between natives, explorers, and colonizers, A City in the North refuses to provide easy answers. Although retreating into an occasional stock evil character to jolt the plot forward, on the whole [...]"
"Marta Randall’s A City in the North (1976), is a work of anthropological SF that focuses on “authentic” relationships between its human and alien characters (see note). A commentary on the societal effects and cultural disconnects between natives, explorers, and colonizers, A City in the North refuses to provide easy answers. Although retreating into an occasional stock evil character to jolt the plot forward, on the whole [...]"
March 14, 2016
I like the way this book places you in the thoughts of different characters, giving you deeper insight into their reasoning, and giving it a bit more interest than your usual "let's go explore a new planet" romp. And I liked where the story ended, as it wasn't where I was expecting. But it might also make people irritated, as it effectively turns a sci-fi jungle adventure romp into a romance.
April 28, 2015
1989 grade C+
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews