What could be more commonplace than grass, or a world covered over all its surface with a wind-whipped ocean of grass? But the planet Grass conceals horrifying secrets within its endless pastures. And as an incurable plague attacks all inhabited planets but this one, the prairie-like Grass begins to reveal these secrets—and nothing will ever be the same again...
Sheri Stewart Tepper was a prolific American author of science fiction, horror and mystery novels; she was particularly known as a feminist science fiction writer, often with an ecofeminist slant.
Born near Littleton, Colorado, for most of her career (1962-1986) she worked for Rocky Mountain Planned Parenthood, where she eventually became Executive Director. She has two children and is married to Gene Tepper. She operated a guest ranch in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
She wrote under several pseudonyms, including A.J. Orde, E.E. Horlak, and B.J. Oliphant. Her early work was published under the name Sheri S. Eberhart.
once upon a time there was a delightful young story named Grass by Sheri S. Tepper. this story seemed to know exactly what i was longing for: Horror in Space! and so she provided it to me. a fascinating planet full of strange multi-colored grass, bizarre fauna, the ruins of an alien civilization. a backdrop based around a particularly esoteric and semi-totalitarian theocracy. an expertly portrayed and atypical heroine who felt alive and real (and who rather reminded me of Deborah Kerr in her various classy roles). a perfect introduction to the planet's aristocrats, well-rendered through the eyes of an uncomfortable young lady on her first foxhunt. a foxhunt that is not a foxhunt, but something else entirely - something inexplicable, something horrible. a feeling of claustrophobia - but, uniquely, a claustrophobia based on an entire planet, one filled with huge living spaces and wide, windy open ranges. an atrocious plague spreading like wildfire from planet to planet. the unsettling sound of beasts stamping out a threatening dance from not-so-distant caverns. my gosh, those bizarre fauna! the various moments portraying them gazing silently and malevolently at characters, up close and even more eerily in the distant grasses... such brilliantly sinister tableaux! and those foxhunts!
this story was full of twisted emotions, strained familial relations, ambiguous motivations, intriguing mysteries, and a constant yet subtle sense of increasing dread. how enchanting! wonderful chills ensued from this delightful story. i looked on Grass by Sheri S. Tepper as the child i've never had but always wanted. a sort of Wednesday Adams-Monday. i was filled with pleasure at the sight of her.
alas, the child grew up. somewhere around page 200, i think. that winsome feeling of terror just on the horizon, that sweet sense of horror lurking just around the corner, all the subtlety and strange wonder... vanished. it was replaced by confusing xenobiology, a didactic chemistry lecture, a ham-handed coincidence (oops, that extremely important and provocative letter just dropped out of that villain's pocket!), increasingly two-dimensional characters, an extremely lame vision of God, creepy alien sex (and not the good kind), the idea that a rebellious daughter is better off with her mind wiped clean, and repetitious obsessiveness with original sin & what makes a good wife & who is in love with who now and why and why won't they. a precocious child grew into a distinctly tedious adult.
but i will try to remember that child! because the first half or so of this book was awesome.
"Grass! Millions of square miles of it... a hundred rippling oceans, each ripple a gleam of scarlet or amber, emerald or turquoise... the colors shivering over the prairies... Sapphire seas of grass with dark islands of grass bearing great plumy trees which are grass again."
So opens Grass, Sheri Tepper's first fully-successful novel and her masterwork, I think. One of my 25 Best Ever SF books.
If you've read any Tepper, you'll have noticed that she takes a pretty dim view of human nature, especially among men -- and of religion, especially patriarchal religion. The standard Tepper themes are here -- of course, they weren't standard back then -- but handled lightly and thoughtfully, with only a bit of the didactic ham-fistedness that mars some of her later books. What I didn't remember about Grass is the splendid sense of place she evokes -- Grass emerges as a fully-formed, beautiful, and thoroughly alien world. The formative image of Grass, to the Colorado-born & raised Tepper, is that of the American Great Plains after a wet spring, which is indeed an oceanic experience -- one that your Oklahoma-raised reviewer has shared.
Sanctity, the noxious world-religion of Tepper's Earth, is explicitly modeled on Mormonism. Mormon readers ('saints') will not be flattered -- though Tepper has exaggerated for effect. Sanctity is not nice. At times it verges on cartoonish, but then I would reflect on the banality of evil.... Tepper does a good job, handling evil. BEAUTY (1991) is her masterwork of evil -- a remarkable book, but not for the squeamish! "Down, down, to Happy Land..." Ugh.
The Hippae aren't nice, either. Neither are the Hounds, another Grassian species she introduces in the Hunt, and splendidly develops as the novel progresses. I've seen criticism of Grass's ecology, but to this non-biologist it seems reasonably sound, certainly good enough for fictional background.
The extreme isolation and strange behavior of Grass's rural aristocracy are again drawn from Tepper's Western experience. Larry McMurtry has written eloquently of just how strange isolated pioneers could get, and I remember similar stories from Oklahoma. Tepper, McMurtry and other senior Westerners (like me) are just one long lifetime distant from the frontier.
Marjorie Westriding -- besides having a wonderful name, and a remarkably irritating husband -- remains Tepper's most memorable character. The NY Times says she's "one of the most interesting and likable heroines in modern science fiction." Westriding appears in two more of Tepper's books, but is far less memorable in those. But she's great here.
The Great Plague: that's where the dodgy biology lies, and it's a pretty contrived MacGuffin, too. And the wrap-up gets a little mooshy and pat. But these are quibbles. I had a great time re-reading Grass, and you will, too. Most highly recommended. On my 100 Best Ever list.
Review commissioned by SF Site in 2002: https://www.sfsite.com/06a/gr129.htm Lightly revised for here. Maybe time for another reread? I still have my review copy, I'm pretty sure. Back from when publishers gave reviewers actual books!
I've no idea how this makes lists such as "most underrated sci-fi", or how it's in Gollancz's SF Masterworks range - despite one or two interesting ideas it is, on balance, absolute drivel.
The pacing is terrible. The science is woeful. The characters are tedious and one-dimensional, and their dialogue wholly convincing. However, much worse than that, the entire novel turns out to be some vehicle for the author to explore some uninspired hokum about Catholicism (guilt, original sin, etc.) and horse-riding & fox-hunting.
Any opportunity to discuss colonisation of alien worlds, first contact with an alien race, the differing philosophical outlook of that race, telepathic control, sexual submission, genocide, or indeed any of the *potentially* interesting themes that emerge in this book, all ultimately become discussions about Catholicism and/or horse-riding. Even the eponymous "grass" that comprises the alien setting for this novel serves no purpose other than to allow horse-riding in space.
There’s a lot of things going on in Grass. Religion, tradition, health & illness, education, relationships—all these things get batted around during the course of the book, and that’s a big load for just 500+ pages, but not unusual in a planetary romance of this sort. However I liked the main character, Marjorie Westriding, with her love of her horses, her ability to ask the right questions of the right people, and the willingness to put herself in danger.
As in her book The Gate to Women’s Country, Tepper explores human relationship territory in which men and women seem to talk past one another, with Rodrigo not taking Marjorie seriously enough and Marjorie taking him way too seriously. They do approach mutual comprehension several times during crises, only to back away quickly.
Also explored is the issue of who is worth caring for. The church of Sanctity has decided to let the plague run its course and the resurrect only a chosen few (although they refuse to admit publically that there’s a plague at all). Marjorie has done charitable work, helping the people who have run afoul of Sanctity, and wonders why they are treated so unfairly, even if it’s according to the church’s rule-book. When she & Rodrigo change planets, she begins to wonder if the native creatures of Grass give or receive consideration? What about the noble class on Grass, who believe themselves in charge but are actually humoured by the so-called lower class who run the planet’s economy and are much more educated than the aristocrats? When aristocratic children are abducted and abused by the mysterious Hippae on Grass, are they heartlessly forgotten by their parents or are their minds being controlled? And ultimately, are the people of Grass, who are immune to the plague, obliged to do anything for the rest of humanity?
Unsurprisingly the aristocrats and the priests come out of this tale looking poorly and I can’t help but think that Tepper had colonialism in mind as she crafted this tale. I can see where I’m going to get thinking about this tale for several days to come. Also, I’m disappointed to note that the following two Arbai books follow different characters—no more Marjorie.
Book 262 of my Science Fiction & Fantasy reading project.
I'm thinking Margaret Atwood may have been the bane of every feminist fiction writer during the 80s and 90s. I mean love it or hate it, The Handmaid's Tale pretty much defined cultural religious dystopian patriarchy. It's clear that Gilead was not the place to be if you are female and would like free will. Tepper builds a very similar world where a very restrictive, religious patriarchy ruled mankind. That patriarchy has expanded to countless worlds across the galaxy. Only… for me it came across as a caricature. I've seen this concept explored more than twice. Idk. Maybe this novel is inadvertently showing its age. Grass is the story of an oppressed/repressed woman finding herself and saving mankind story. A bildungsroman. While there were elements of this that I found fascinating, the storyline was feeble. The good stuff was great. I enjoyed exploring Grass and its aliens. The culture on Grass was much more respectful of nature and the environment. A strong ecological message came through signaling that scifi writers were alarmed w/ the willful destruction of the Earth several decades ago. I was invested in what happened to the characters and unraveling the mystery. The bad stuff for me was that besides the cliché of the patriarchal, dystopian society, I just didn't buy the concept. I don't see how limiting the growth and intellectual contributions of half of a society makes the scientific leaps it would take to travel through space much less colonize other planets. While rigid religious dogma and science aren't mutually exclusive, they don't mix very well. Colonization of other planets might be hampered if you are busy oppressing the women folk. Shorter Monica: the oppression of females in the novel is too simplistic and restrictive and wielded like a sledgehammer. And um, The story wrapped up very quickly after 400+ pages of mystery. A little too neat and tidy. Even the politics of what occurred off world seemed…rushed. Overall, I think the book was interesting and despite a few of cringeworthy moments, by the end of the novel, I wanted to know more. I just think Tepper bit off much more than she could chew. She aimed very high conceptually, but no one does cultural religious oppression and dehumanization like Atwood. I'm not sure why Tepper even tried. The most interesting elements of the book for me had nothing to with the politics. Truth be told, I'd like to check out the next book in the series (What is happening on the other Arbai worlds??); but I'm not convinced that Tepper has rid herself of the obvious sexism, gender dynamics and religious dogma that may have colored her imagination during the 80s and 90s. I will probably read Tepper again down the road. Wanted to like this more because: female empowerment!! But in the end…meh…
3+ compelling but disappointing Stars
Listened to audible. Dina Pearlman was not great, but was adequate.
One of my favorite science fiction books in recent years, this intricately plotted book creates a complete world and is utterly absorbing. Tepper reminds me a bit of another favorite woman sci-fi author, C.J. Cherryh, in that she takes a somewhat anthropological approach to the alien societies she creates. I won't go into details of the plot -- it's one of those complex sagas that doesn't summarize too well, but I will mention that I enjoy her style, which is lyrical and lush, much like the planet described in this novel.
‘Grass’ is an absolutely stunning read. Shari S. Tepper is now one of my top adored authors.
I hate to use the overused noun ‘tour-de-force’, but I do not have the imagination to use another word for this novel. It has everything a literary reader and a science fiction fan would require for an absolutely enchanted weekend of reading joy. Intelligent, forceful, fast-paced, enthralling, unique, rational - I am SO happy!
However, I have read reviews which go a bit sideways from my ecstatic positive opinion of ‘Grass’, if not outright south of my position with disappointed groans. So, I am including, perhaps, a mild spoiler - the moral of the story is dogma is dangerous, and people who are dogmatic are people you should immediately guard against. Life is a process of changing circumstances and paradigm-shifting discoveries. Dogmatic ‘certainties’ are a poison to intelligent reasoning.
IMHO, NEVER allow dogmatic believers in positions of authority. Dogmatic minds are evil, and do much evil, since they persist in shaping reality to suit their unchanging philosophies, no matter the evidence or who must be killed to continue supporting their philosophy or idea. It is a lot like how people believed in the Middle Ages when anyone who denied the earth was flat, or that the sun circled the earth, despite mounting evidence for a several centuries, was burned at the stake for ‘heresy’.
On the world Grass, two dogmatic societies vie for power and minds, using belief and sustenance as the whips to control those who they wish to command. Fortunately for the small town of Commons, neither the Green Brothers, an outpost of disgraced Sanctity monks (Sanctity is a powerful Terran Catholic breakaway sect) or the antiquated seven ‘bon’ families of aristocrats who live isolated in their estancias, or estates, populated by people who are the product of marriages of incest, care very much to extend their power beyond their locked-down enclaves. Grass is a mostly an unexplored planet, too, full of spiky creatures which kill people, although they appear to be half-tamed pets of the bons, and mysterious forests, grassy plains and marshes in which people never come back if they dare to enter.
The book describes a future where religion, particularly Catholic rites and beliefs, have once again taken over human civilization. The Catholic religion has split into two sects: Old Catholic and Sanctity.
Religious philosophy is a strong cage for most of the dogmatic and philosophically-enslaved minds of the high-born, the wealthy, and the leaders of Terra (earth). Sanctified (members of Sanctity) are forcibly recruited by Sanctity in the areas the Heirarch controls. Sanctity has a two-child per couple rule. If couples dare have three children, the third is declared illegal and forcibly moved into horrific slums, the parents losing their civil rights. The third-born is not permitted any pregnancy whatsoever, the penalty being death, and on their 16th birthday, third-borns are forced to emigrate to the few populated outer worlds.
Old Catholics and Sanctity strictly control population growth on Terra, and even though the two religions oppose each other ferociously, they work together to limit any more space exploration as well, hoping to prevent any ridiculous settlements which are free of their influence.
Grass is one such ‘free’ world, but it is considered too lightly populated, outlier and remote, thus unimportant for both religions. However, Grass was settled by a group of Sanctity monks interested in the strange plants and ecology of the mostly unknown world, and a few of the monks are curious about an ancient non-human city discovered there - another mysterious dead Arbai city. Eventually, though, the planet became a dumping ground for disobedient Sanctified monks, most of whom were forced into Sanctity when children.
Sanctity and Old Catholic are now involved in another conspiracy - hiding the fact plague has been attacking humanity everywhere. It is a slow disease which kills everyone who becomes sick eventually. There is no immunity. To avoid panic, both sects are seeking out the people with the characteristic sores and isolating them. When they are found, the infected are taken away, never to be seen again. The few children who appear to not be infected - yet - are forced into religious service, although the religions maintain the fiction of voluntary induction. Rillibee Chime is one such reluctant child, now almost adult monk. He is chaffing under his religious enslavement, and he will soon commit the sin of trying to speak truth instead of religious lying, which will most certainly end up in the prison priory on Grass.
Examining ‘big data’, Sanctity sees Grass is the only planet where no one has become infected with the plague. Is there a cure there? Disturbed, the plague-infected Heirarch sends his high-born relatives, Rodrigo Yrarier, and Lady Marjorie Westriding, as ambassador to Grass to secretly spy out the people of Grass, even though the Westridings are Old Catholic.
The Heirarch needs people who are completely trustworthy with the secret of the existence of plague. Religiously indoctrinated and completely dogmatic believers are perfect, despite their Old Catholic beliefs. Marjorie in particularly, has shown her faith in never questioning either the rules or doctrine of the Church, and she follows, and believes in utterly, the command and control of both Rigo her husband and the church teachings. She disbelieves her own eyes and experiences, preferring to only see the frame and paradigm of reality that the church and her husband teach her. Thus, the churches have complete faith the two ambassadors will properly understand whatever they discover within the doctrines of religious philosophy, not science or observation. Both churches are confident God will not permit the cure to be something which involves thinking outside the box in the first place. After all, God hates non-doctrine thinking.
Commoner Town is a small town on Grass - the only town - with a lot of ordinary people who work for the stupid bon aristocrats (they don’t know they are ignorant or tech-stupid) who are too proud to work themselves, although they depend on the ‘lower classes’ to grow their food and clean their mansions. The people of ‘Commons’ pity them. The Commoners have become very inventive, educated and tech-smart. However, they never speak truth to the bons, who proudly live on in their bubble of ignorance and separation. The Commoners also maintain the Port, separate from the town, where space ships land, fuel up and deliver supplies, sometimes staying overnight or a week to enjoy the pleasures of Commoner Town.
The bons have a secret ritual of ‘The Hunt’, where they ride Mounts, led by the Hounds, hunting down the Fox. They do not question ‘The Hunt’, and keep away all others from participating. The seven families alternate hosting the event at their estancias, and they all begin training for the hunt while children. All bon estancias maintain utter silence about ‘The Hunt’, although they occasionally permit off world officials to observe, when they are forced, and of course, the Commoner servants often see the annual event since the servants are required to take care of the physically exhausted Hunt participants when they return - if they return. For some mysterious reason, none of the bon ever mention the young girls who go missing on the Hunt…
Rigo and Marjorie and their almost grownup children Tony and Stella ride horses, so upon hearing about the aristocrat Hunt of Grass, they naively bring a stable of horses to Grass, unaware the Mounts, Hounds and Foxes of Grass are not the animals they know by those names. Mounts, Hounds and Foxes on Grass are monsters.
This is a future of doctrinal beliefs, enforced by society, laws and personal choice, whether the beliefs are in church, class or government enforced teaching. The people of Commoner Town are a democracy, but they keep their heads down since they have no military force or weapons. However, the plague will kill all of humanity in time, perhaps in seven years. Will anyone be able to break free of their dogmatic chains of thought or ideological mind-control to find the truth? The various leaders will kill before they allow free-thinking, since such personal revelations threaten their power and control. They have no belief in process or change in the first place, since the old ‘eternal truths’ are cemented into society by god and class and religious doctrine.
Marjorie has long accepted her chaste loyalty to Rigo, despite his concubine Eugenie, whom he brings to Grass along with Marjorie and their children. She has also accepted the orders of her priest confessor, who travels with the family to Grass, to accept Rigo’s authority over her. However, Grass soon is turning over every religious philosophy she has believed completely. Unlike all of her family and the bon, she finds herself unable to ignore the dangers she begins to uncover or the intelligent malice of the monster animals she sees with her own eyes. Following the commands of Rigo and Sanctity to help find a cure for the plague, the religious paradigm into which she has willingly caged herself is proving to be a handicap. If she will not disavow many of her beliefs, all of Mankind will die!
I read Grass within a couple of years after I read The Gate to Women's Country. It is, once again, a science fiction novel with a great mystery guiding the action. This book is more highly reviewed than any of Tepper's other books. It is intriguing, and it is one of the books that I like to read of Tepper's because it challenges me. It forces me to ask what I believe about humankind. Are we inherently good and trustworthy, as I've believed in the past? Or, are we inherently evil...at least some of us. And, if some of us are evil, what must we do about evil people? Grass takes this a step farther: What if the evil ones become saints? What if their evil is so evil it must be destroyed, except that what they accomplish as saints is terribly wonderful and beautiful. I think I tolerate these questions not only because I majored in philosophy : ) but also because Tepper has some credibility. She worked as a social worker for years. She must have seen people do awful things. And, some of the awful stuff that people do is be stupid. Thing is, most of her stupid characters are female and most of her sociopaths are male. Bad combination: Stupid women, violent men? I bet she saw a lot of this in her career. Yet, her heroines can also be beautifully wise and practical. Although Grass doesn't have human men who are admirable, we see the possibility of beauty in a surprising character who appears late in the novel. Again, this book is more highly recommended than most of Tepper's novels, and I recommend it too!
I've never been a big fan of the “medieval times in space” brand of science fiction. I mean, what's the point of space if all we're going to do when we get there is reproduce 14th century Europe as envisioned by 19th century Europe? And really, the Dukedom is going to be the form of human political organization that holds out? The Fief? I mean come on! But Grass works. It shouldn't, but it does. Perhaps it is the novel's thoughtful engagement with organized religion that holds it together—after all, what better way to probe the intersections of Catholicism and sexuality than in a medieval world transposed onto an alien one?
Tepper is the kind of old-school scifi writer who doesn't worry about going long—and no one is going to confuse her with a master prose stylist. But the writing is solid, the ideas interesting, the characters real. Like most authors, she's more convincing on the nuances of human relationships than on the nature of good and evil, but like only the best, she lets those two levels of meaning shape each other; her abstractions matter.
There is a lot of deeply disturbing material in this book. A subplot around sexual abuse and healing is particularly distressing—the healing as much as the violence, which was perhaps not quite intentional. But Tepper is a fearless writer, and Grass, harrowing and ridiculous by turns, is very much a world worth visiting.
What a strange book. Fascinating alien world, interesting female MC, yet so unsettling. Too many trigger points for me. It is most definitely will not be included in the Do Better: SFF without Sexual Violence group shelf.
When a plague sweeps humanity, a diplomatic mission is sent to Grass, the only human-settled planet without signs of the sickness. Grass is nominally run by the bons, a patriarchal society modeled after old European nobility. But the bons are far more interested in the Hunt than in the running of the planet, or even the certain extinction of humanity. The ambassadors are as ill-suited to saving humanity as the bons are. Lady Marjorie Westriding Yrarier is consumed with guilt, and her husband Roderigo is too busy trying to get his wife's adoration and the bon's respect to concentrate on the plague. But at last, personal tragedies spur Marjorie on to first finding the source of the plague, and then confronting those who stood by and did nothing while it spread. In so doing, the interconnectedness of sentient beings, the oddities of evolution, and the morality of genocide are all examined.
Tepper has very little sympathy for most of her characters, and it shows. She's also rather heavy-handed when presenting ethical choices; it's very clear what side the narrative is on at all times. Although in the beginning this book looked like it was going to be a space-faring take on culture-clash, the middle section was entirely about how selfish and self-involved Roderigo and their teenaged daughter Stella are. And then the end is basically one scene after another of all the characters talking about how stupid and useless (worse than useless--actually harmful, in this book) pacifism is, and how one needs to take moral stands and just commit genocide now and then. It skeeved me out. Plus, there's this whole subplot about Rillibee Chime being a Nice Guy and getting to take care of (and eventually have babies with) a trio of brain-damaged girls. I couldn't get over the sketchiness of it. I liked Lady Marjorie a lot, but even she couldn't save this book.
Overall: ambitious, but not particularly successful book. Too heavy-handed, and the plot is too poorly paced and disjointed.
What I loved most about Grass was the world-building which was simply astonishing. Sheri S. Tepper painted a picture of intergalactic empire ruled by the Catholic Church and as one might expect, there are many signs indicating that it's a dystopia. The boundaries of knowledge and freedom are always limited, when unbendable doctrines are applied. We get snapshots of the political rule, everyday life of people on different planets and then focus on one particular planet, Grass.
Grass was something else… Even if I was confused what was going on in the beginning, I could sense amazing secrets that the planet was hiding and I was looking forward to unveiling them. I was not disappointed. Everything about the contemporary life and history over there was fascinating. There were many forces at work and it was a joy to discover how different threads tangled, influenced each other and revealed the hidden treasure layer after layer.
Yet the world-building was just one of many strength of the novel. There were multiple moving pieces at play here and it was truly satisfactory to watch the events unfold and more puzzle elements slowly forming a full picture. There were the secrets of the planet Grass, including the strange behaviour of the noble houses, but there was also a larger mystery of the lost civilisation of Arbai, the struggle against the spreading plague, different political forces trying to outmaneuver one another and the secrets of the Yrarier family. Even if the book seemed slow at times, I wasn't bored even for a moment.
What I particularly appreciated were strong feminist themes and the smart commentary on toxic masculinity (before the term became widely known) and the consequences of patriarchy, especially for individuals. I relished in the intelligent reflections of the main female protagonist and her strong will, unbent despite her experiences. I also appreciated the parallel drawn in the course of the novel and finally voiced in the final chapter:
The characters were somewhat less well-developed, as more space was given to the world, the plot points and philosophical considerations, but they were developed just enough to make them three-dimensional. I particularly enjoyed learning more about Marjorie and Brother Mainoa.
I'm looking forward to reading more from this classic sci-fi author.
Unreliable narration is kind of trendy these days. It's not the easiest thing to do well, and often enough I've seen people kind of dismissively wave it away as a cop-out. And it very much can be a cop-out. Which is why it's really refreshing to see it used well, and I really enjoyed the way this book kept catching me off guard again and again.
Grass is an old-fashioned science fiction book, in the best sense. It's set on an ecologically interesting world with a fairly small human colony. There's a number of interesting concepts explored, and a satisfying conclusion to the story. But it's the way the book kept cutting my feet out from under me with assumptions I didn't realize I was making that I'm going to remember.
As far as the "technology marches on" problems that can plague older science fiction, there really isn't any of that. What there is, however, is social commentary that feels outdated. The main character is a devout Catholic woman in a loveless marriage. Much of what is said about the role of women, and the Catholic moralizing, is outdated. (Though perhaps not as much so as I would have said at the beginning of the month.)
Tepper passed away a few weeks ago, and I had never even heard of her. A friend is a big fan, and I read this on her recommendation. This was overall excellent, and deserves to be better remembered.
There were some crinchworthy moments in the book, especially regarding the vanished girls – and I’m not convinced by the biological explanation at the end. So this counts for the deduction of one star.
This out of the way: I loved the book!
The world building was convincing, lush and mysterious. The protagonist is a middle aged mother - which I always rejoice at – who has to find her way in a patriarchal, religiously oppressed society. It was fascinating for me to read about her struggles, that seemed so outdated. I love it, when futuristic settings and old school settings of the mind clash. Same goes for the aristocracy on the planet Grass.
The philosophical/religious discussions I enjoyed as well as the protagonist’s deep understanding of horses. It is always good to see, when animals are not treated as „things“.
I cannot complain about the slow pace, that I saw as a drawback in quite a few comments. To me the story felt well balanced and satisfactorily paced. Tiny bits of information were taken up again later in the book and created the coherent feeling of a well outlined story.
I read through the 500something pages within two days and got fully immersed into the world of Grass.
Sheri Tepper has never been my favourite science fiction writer. I've only read two of her books, and while I thought The Gate to Women's Country was interesting feminist dystopia/utopia, I really disliked The Fresco. I thought the solutions in that one were very deus ex machina, (although the bit about impregnating right-to-life male senators with alien babies was very amusing), and that if you need to have unbiased aliens to come fix all your problems, and they'll do it perfectly and be perfectly understanding, you've just reintroduced the idea of God in alien clothes.
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
It's a pretty solid guarantee that if a book is anthropological science fiction, and it was written by a woman, and it was published in the 80's or 90's, I will love it. Don't know why those three factors seem to converge on the sweet spot, but they've rarely steered me wrong.
I would love to find the time to write a real review of this one at some point. Until then, I'll just recommend it to everyone I can. It's hard to find a copy of these days. It's worth the effort.
It was an interesting read and I'm glad I saw it while browsing my library, would definitely had missued this otherwise. I didn't dislike it but don't love it either more of a 3.5 stars. Interested in picking up something more by Sheri S.Tepper in the future
I have the hardest time writing reviews for the books I enjoy the most because it’s difficult to encapsulate the experience of an entire book in a few short paragraphs. This book has a plethora of characters and settings, but the author is a master at making it all distinct and setting up very unique cultures. I'm impressed. Tepper is a new favorite author for me. Strangely, I’ve found myself attracted to grass lately as well. Considering that I usually think of grass as a nuisance, it’s a bit odd that I’m now noticing and pointing out the beauty of grass rippling in the wind.
The book takes place in a future world where Terra has population problems and has colonized other planets in order to solve this problem. One such planet is Grass, thus named because it is mainly covered in a plethora of grasses in a rainbow of colors. There are places on Grass with trees and swamps, but few venture beyond the grass and return to tell the tale. A deadly disease threatens human extinction on all the planets, so Sanctity sends a family from Terra on a secret mission to determine why nobody on Grass has this plague. Sanctity is a corrupt religious entitythat assists in population control and has “saved” a copy of all humans for cloning in the event of human extinction.
The family from Terra finds Grass to be a strange place full of strange people. The aristocratic bon families live on estates called estancias and engage in hunts with Grass’ version of horses and hounds. However, something doesn’t seem right about these hunts. Families have hoards of children because so many are lost on these hunts, and the hunters can never really remember much about the hunts after they return, zombie-like, to their estancias after a hunt. However, the horse-like creatures, known as hippae, seem to compel the hunters to continue in the hunts for foxen.
Grass? Fox hunts? Have I lost you already? This is only a small part of the story. This is also a novel of the “priests in space” genre. Strangely, space priests (or at least the ones I’ve encountered) tend to be deists or agnostics seeking out information about new cultures. In the case of this book, the priests are trying to understand the archeological remains of an extinct alien culture that used to live on the planet and elsewhere in the galaxy. But this isn’t the only mystery of the planet. What is the true nature of the hippae and why are girls who have been lost on hunts suddenly turning up in the Commoner Town with blank slates for brains?
The book is broad and sweeping in scope. The author has created a beautiful world full of mystery and ethical issues to ponder. I look forward to reading the 2nd book of the series soon. Since the series is called “Arbai”, which is the name of the extinct alien race that once lived on Grass, I’m wondering if the next 2 books are prequels to this one or if perhaps the Arbai survived somewhere.
Not my favorite Sheri Tepper book. I totally loved The Awakeners and Plague of Angels but Grass was a bit too wordy and tedious, even a little preachy at times. An average book from a usually above-average author.
This was (I believe) my first Tepper novel and it took quite some time to get into, both in terms of content/story and prose. Tepper first gives us a dystopian future world, where humanity is basically ruled by the Sanctity, an extremely patriarchal, conservative religion based around the theme of resurrection/rebirth. All members of the Sanctity have their DNA 'on file', ready to be reborn after the end to repopulate the stars. Earth has suffered and environmental collapse and the Sanctity enforces extreme population control measures, such as executing women who have more than two kids, while also banning contraception. I read this as basically a critique of conservatives in general, but one with a eugenic component that was really uncomfortable.
Our lead, Marjorie, starts off on Earth, but she is an Old Catholic, outside of the Sanctity; the Old Catholics constitute a minority 'sect' on Earth, with the Pope in Exile living in a colony world. Nonetheless, her husband, Rigo, has as a relative the leader of the Sanctity. While Rigo is also technically an Old Catholic, he also has a mistress and marches to the beat of his own drum; he is also a self-centered asshat, as are many of the males who comprise the Sanctity.
Anyway, it seems an uncurable, deadly plague has been raging throughout human colonized space. The Sanctity refuses to acknowledge the plague's existence, however, even as their own numbers die left and right. A 'schism' sect of the Sanctity, known as Moldies, wants humanity to die off, therefore bringing out the rebirth of cloned Sanctity members via machines. On the titular planet Grass, however, no plague has erupted. The leader of the Sanctity, even though he 'officially' does not acknowledge the plague's existence, decides to send a delegation to Grass to find out what is what, and sends Rigo, Marjorie and their two kids. Why pick them? Well, it seems the 'aristocracy' of the planet Grass love to go fox hunting, and Rigo and Marjorie are expert on horses!
The problems I had with this primarily concern the heavy religious component. Beside the odious Sanctity, the Old Catholics seem enlightened, but they are obsessed with original sin, morality, etc. Much of the text fleshed out the morality of the religions and that is not really my cup of tea; plus, Tepper had a very heavy hand on the tiller here as well. I can see why she included it, however, as it seems some of the aliens on Grass have also gone down the morality rabbit hole, but why should we even believe aliens would have a similar question of religion?
Tepper obviously loves horses and they play a large role in the tale as Rigo and Marjorie bring their horses to the planet. The grassian aristocracy ride 'mounts', but they are indigenous to Grass; more like scaly, toothy monsters! I could give this aspect of the story a pass as well, but so be it.
Tepper packs a lot into the tale, much of it through Marjorie's eyes and narration, and I did not relate to her at all. She starts off 'saddled' to Old Catholic views, turning a blind eye to her husband's mistress (who he also brought to Grass); she must be 'defective' if her husband needs a mistress after all. Marjorie constant guilt may be on par for Catholicism in general (I was raised as a Catholic!), but it feels excessive here. We are not in the Middle Ages! The (for me) overbearing religious vibe really turned me off the tale. I can see why people can dig this tale; the aliens were interesting and the world building creative, but jeez. 2 stars.
3.0 stars. Even thought I liked this book, I was surprised that I didn't like it more. It has a lot of things that I look for in book including, quality prose, well developed characters, an interesting plot and solid world building. At the end of the day, the story just progressed too slowly for me and I found myself anxious for the story to move along. That said, after finishing the book I am impressed by the story that the author created, I just didn;t enjoy it enough to rate it higher. Good, but not great.
Nominee: Hugo Award for Best Science Fiction Novel Nominee: Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel
This book is complex, and my thoughts about it are even more so. I found that I disagree with most of what the author is saying about faith and ethics, but I enjoyed the experience of thinking about the deep questions asked, and exploring my own beliefs in relation to the narrative. I also enjoyed the alien puzzle element of the story. The characters here are mostly not very deeply developed, and the plot wouldn't justify the novel's length on its own. However, faith and ethics are fascinating and vital subjects, and I value books that give them context and lead me to contemplate.
After reading Raising the Stones by Tepper back in January of this year and really enjoying it I knew I needed to go back and read some of her other books. This book, Grass, is actually set in the same universe as Raising the Stones, but the two books can be read and understood in any order.
This story, like the other one by Tepper which I have read, was a slow burner. It took me quite a while to really get going with this so that I felt compelled to pick it up. I always find I like reading Tepper's books when I do get into them, but finding the time to get to this one alongside some faster-moving stories I was also reading was difficult at first, but then as the book went on I found myself reaching for this over other things I was reading.
The planet of Grass is the main focus of this story. It's a unique and interesting place filled with strange creatures and wild grasses, odd customs and a nobility of its own. We follow a family, namely Marjorie who is the mother and wife, as they go to Grass under order of Sanctity (this universes' most dominant religion) to find out if there could be a cure for a Plague that is ravishing the other planets. Marjorie and family are there as an Ambassador but really they have a much more important mission and it's so secret that even their children cannot know about it.
What I like about this story is that it's a blend of science and fantasy and also lots of deep-thinking. I tend to find with Tepper that she really dives into the questions of life and she does so through her characters, so if you don't like slower-moving and thought-driven stories then this may not be for you. Personally, I find it can get a little grating at times to have all the heavy thoughts of the characters, and there is a lot of religious discussion in this book in particular, but I do think that once you wade into the story this discussion does make you ponder, and I like being challenged. The blend of science and fantasy I mentioned before comes from the creatures that are found on Grass and the way that they have evolved and developed over time. We follow Marjorie and her family as they do their best to blend in to a society that is insular and foreign, and they have to do so whilst trying to not be attacked, to provoke, or to antagonise the creatures of this planet. These creatures come in all sorts of forms, from Peepers to Foxen to Hippae...and none are as they first appear.
Overall, I will say that this book is one that I definitely enjoyed, although it had a slow start, because the second half was pretty exciting. I do think there's a lot to gain from this read, but I know it won't work for everyone because of the style and pacing. One to be picked up when you have the time and energy to sit and read for hours I would suggest. 4*s from me.
Sheri S. Tepper was one of fantasy and science fiction’s unique voices. Her novels were often controversial, at times even off-putting. But for fans who like their speculative fiction to be a feast of ideas, they were rich with tales of human societies in turmoil, both internally — in regards to power dynamics, gender roles, faith and ideology — and externally, as humanity encounters other forms of life and wrestles with new and unfamiliar knowledge.
The Hugo-nominated Grass is widely considered to be among Tepper’s two or three best books. It’s excellent, though definitely flawed. But the flaws aren’t enough to diminish the things it does so well. A sprawling far-future science fiction quasi-western, it’s the story of a frontier planet where the fragile interactions between settlers and natives are spiraling towards chaos. But it’s also the story of one woman’s journey towards her spiritual and intellectual emancipation from a life controlled by an oppressive culture and the role she was brought up to play as a woman in it. Make no mistake: Tepper is in full fuck-the-patriarchy form here, but we’re not burdened with any polemics. Grass is first and foremost an often jaw-dropping widescreen cinematic melodrama that, in its best moments, is as thoughtful as it is thrilling. A well-made streaming series could do wonders with it.
Human civilization has spread among the stars, most of it still under the sway of Sanctity, a theocracy entrenched on old Earth that, in true theocratic form, suppresses knowledge in the pursuit of power. As a terrifying plague with a 100% fatality rate begins sweeping through all the colonized worlds, Sanctity maintains an official narrative of denying its existence (hmm, that sounds familiar). But Sanctity’s own leader, the Hierarch, Carlos, is dying of it. Secretly, the church dispatches an emissary, Rodrigo Yrarier (an Old Catholic who happens to be the Hierarch’s nephew), to the one world where it seems the plague is incapable of spreading. That world is known as Grass. (Continued...)
This started absolutely brilliantly, but I found the resolution a little ridiculous. It's quite a long book and the resolution started to come at about half-way through, so it added up to quite a lot of ridiculous. I think this is a manifestation of a common problem with this sort of book (intriguing alien world with a strange underlying secret): the build-up to the revelation makes it seem like it will be something utterly revolutionary, but the reality is inevitably disappointing. Also she never explains why the hippae hunt with humans or how this relationship came about; and the science is so obviously, obviously - by the most basic of genetics - wrong.
I think Tepper's greatest failing as a writer is the way she treats her 'bad' characters (not villains - there are no villains, really, at least not in this book). She does not describe in detail the thought processes of her protagonists - through this they are granted the possibility of complexity of thought and motivation. But her antagonists (in this case Rigo is the most obvious example) have their every thought laid out on a plate for all to see, which diminishes them, turning them into near-psychopaths. I don't think this technique necessarily diminishes them, but perhaps Tepper isn't a good enough writer to manage it properly. It's kind of annoying and also, I think, a bit insulting (coincidence that the vast majority of these 'bad' characters are men? I don't think so, and that annoys me also).
But I still think she's pretty great. In my vague quest to read more science fiction, she is the first author I've found whose books are really interesting. She makes me want to read more, and then more.
A strong 4.5 stars, I’ll probably re-read this one day and you should read it too.
Grass is a thoughtful science fiction novel centering on a planet called Grass. I wasn’t sure if I was going to enjoy this novel at first, but the third chapter sold me.
This book reminded me of my first experience with Dune way back when. The characters and their ideas really do seem to breathe in a unique fashion, somewhat familiar but also different from people you’ve ever met. Without spoilers, the characters are humans from a time about 1000 years into our future (I think).
This book is a fine example of that elusive world-building I keep hearing about. It’s a master class in that regard.
The story is full of mysteries that are worth being invested in. There are surprisingly insightful religious tones explored in Grass as well. Personally, I liked several characters we meet and most were well-drawn. Near the end it’s a bit of a character overload, but our main cast makes up for it.
In the most general sense, the book feels like a cross between Dune and Robin Hobb’s writing style. The writing has depth and you might find yourself slowing down your reading pace. It’s worth it.
I will definitely re-read this. Apparently there are two sequels set in this world, but they have no immediate reference to this book; it stands alone and for that I am grateful.
Man, this was a weird one. It was a bit of a ponderous read for me. There was good and bad in Grass, and I think other people might enjoy it more than I did.
I said in my last status update for this book that reading it was "like having a vivid, strange nightmare that didn't quite make sense." I think this captures both the good and the bad of Grass. Sheri Tepper's world building is excellent. Her universe is nuanced, vibrant, original and memorable. Unfortunately, that's really where my praise ends.
The characters feel like stock characters generated by a machine. They lack a certain multi-faceted aspect that better characters would possess. Her dialogue doesn't seem realistic. When I say "realistic" I'm not referring to something like the aristocratically-toned speech of some of the characters, I'm referring to the actual content of their conversations. They just don't have conversations like real people would. It seems like they're having their conversations simply for the benefit of the story and the reader. The characters always do exactly what you expect they will do. I felt Brother Mainoa was written a little better than the rest of them.
I think the characters suffer from a lot of the same problems you typically find in a lot of hard sci-fi novels, particularly authors like Isaac Asimov. However, I think the problem becomes more glaring in Grass because it's more of a fantastic adventure story with surprising catches and less of a wouldn't it be interesting if RANDOM SCI-FI EVENT happened story. (One could argue that Grass is both of these kinds of stories, but I feel that is principally the former.) If I'm reading a fantastic adventure story, I damn well better care about the characters more than say, Nightfall, . (the spoiler is from Nightfall.)
The pace of the book is problematic at best. It seems to unnecessarily meander at times, leaving the reader yawning and wondering why the plot isn't being advanced. This comes from a guy whose favorite book is Moby Dick.
I feel that what I've written above should be true for anyone who reads Grass, but the following are more things I just may have personally disliked.
I didn't give a good goddamn about any of the spiritual conflicts in the book. Maybe it was because the characters weren't very good, but every time Marjorie started to whine about her spiritual conflict I wanted to gouge out my eyes with an escargot fork, which would have been appropriate given the highfalutin propensities of a great deal of Grass' characters.
I was kind of turned off by the "horse worship" in the book. There's tons of horsemanship porn in this book. By horsemanship porn, I mean lots of descriptions about the quirks of particular horses, the great detail put into their names (El Dia Octavo, Her Majesty (*BARF*), etc.), the emotional connection of human and horse, and all that jazz. I enjoyed riding quite a bit when I was youth, and I get being into horsemanship and horses themselves. However, there's so much "horsemanship porn" in the book that it becomes distracting and irritating.
If you're a tough guy who walks around in his house in Space Marine armor barbecuing meat and eating it right off the bone you'll probably be turned off by the (at times) melodramatic writing style. Of course, if that bothers you the odds are the horsemanship porn will bother you too. I love the hell out of flowers and butterflies and it got to me.
Really, you should check out some flowers and butterflies. They're much cheaper to enjoy than those Warhammer 40,000 models you've been buying and painting. If it makes you feel better about it, glue a plastic tank cannon or a giant chainsaw on a butterfly. The best of both worlds!
The beginning was probably the best: the setup, the mysteries, the danger, and Grass. So much grass. Grass the planet is amazing.
Marjorie slowly became a layered character that I wanted to read about, but by the end, this was noticeably conveniently plotted (ooo, a letter fell out of his pocket! the nasty hierarch just runs away! wait, is this about a plague or religion or aliens or exobiology or a failed marriage or...) and it was heavy handed on the religious themes.
I've really enjoyed religion in other SFF novels, but honestly, this was nowhere near as subtle or masterful or thought-provoking as Hyperion Cantos. There was also a surprising amount of hateful sexism thrown in, tightly linked with religion. That tired me out to read. I didn't fully understand what the *point* of all that was. Especially those Green Brothers