I've read this a few times. It's rare for me to find sufficient depth in satire, to so sustain my interest in a long narrative, but Cat's Cradle was pI've read this a few times. It's rare for me to find sufficient depth in satire, to so sustain my interest in a long narrative, but Cat's Cradle was probably the perfect novel for 1963. Vonnegut's notion that all wars are fought by children (the Children's Crusades of Slaughterhouse-Five) seems to have been the unique product of his War experience: that only child-soldiers would be so willing to subvert their personal safety, as well as the safety of others, to such ridiculously granfallonic concepts as "The Chain of Command." ...more
The problem with personal, capital-accumulation in a materialistic society is that if you accumulate enough capital (Trond) you can use it to persuadeThe problem with personal, capital-accumulation in a materialistic society is that if you accumulate enough capital (Trond) you can use it to persuade others to do things contrary to their better nature. While this might be an improvement over a society in which everyone is driven by pain and suffering (O Palácio), it certainly isn’t any place where you would want your society to plateau. Since we are all three meals away from anarchy, there are already too many people willing to behave badly in the interest of their prepotent needs. But why would you chase down a Mission Impossible for company script (slugs) which is as inherently worthless as regular money, and can have whatever “value” (including null-value) the company cares to suggest?
I almost re-shelved this after reading the jacket reference to a “wisecracking heroine,” but Jazz was at least occasionally funny, so I’m glad I didn’t. I didn’t care for the tutorial tone (especially after the author got so much wrong with The Martian) but it would have seemed less annoying if the book were YA, or maybe even MG—the later of which would require the removal of the f*bombs and fellatio references (no great loss). While the quirky, first person narration was surprisingly crisp, it did remove the possibility of deathly peril for the narrator, creating a weak spot at the novel’s climax.
How lazy are the people on the moon? Either they neglect their strength training, in which case they’d be unable to compete physically with newbies, or they don’t, in which case deportation to Terra wouldn’t be a physical hardship. Here are a few additional notes:
P. 26: A “rabbit punch” is a sharp blow delivered to the back of the neck at the base of the skull, which is how you kill a domestic rabbit before preparing it for consumption.
P. 41: “Maybe we should have some moors installed so you can pine on them.” This is way too obscure.
P. 116: Initially I loved the Ted Sturgeon homage reference, but decided it was too obscure, and was probably unintentional.
P. 171: If Sanchez needs a doctorate, it would more appropriately be in Chemical Engineering.
P. 175: Strawman Jin Chu is too big of a weenie to be believed.
P. 200: “At some feral level I wanted my daddy,” just doesn’t work.
P. 271: The Deus ex Machina broken pipe is probably my biggest problem with the plotting. Who would run a pipe through the middle of an airtight air shelter? The 1/6th g minimizes the impact boost for any force delivered by muscle power, so one end of the pipe would have to be free and sufficiently long, enabling the bending stress that would strip the pipe from its connector. Coming up with a nice, appropriately pointy pipe, just seems too improbable. ...more
The concept is strong and the period seems adequately researched (although often, too liberally included in the narrative) but when Crichton gets hisThe concept is strong and the period seems adequately researched (although often, too liberally included in the narrative) but when Crichton gets his main characters to 1357, they seem to go on autopilot, waiting around for the too-obvious climax at the battle of La Roche. Part of the problem is that the time-traveling characters aren’t invested in the 100 Years War—seeing it as one group of remote Frenchmen fighting another, slightly less remote group of Frenchmen. I assume that this is a problem of the narrative being written too quickly, and this and a few similar problems were corrected with the film adaptation. Since his concepts are so strong, it was probably wise for Crichton to spend much of his time with film. Here are a few additional notes:
P. 41: When a modern professor is called “Professor,” it’s because he doesn’t have a doctorate (rare, but not a requirement in some disciplines) and the students are trying to avoid pointing that out.
P. 257: “And to top it all off, these people wiped themselves with strips of white linen.” (TMI, see comment above on the over-inclusion of research.)
P. 266: I generally liked the illustrations, but the one at the bottom of this page is architecturally impossible.
P. 311: Claire says, “You know that to pass as a man is punishable by death?” Odd, since we saw her return to her castle, recognized, while dressed as a man. Apparently the rules don’t apply to Claire.
P. 378: “There were several hundred people inside La Roche. If they all survived, their thousands of descendants could easily make a different future.” The Many-Worlds angle is part of the concept’s strength, but here, as in other places, Crichton seems to let it slip: these are alternate universes that can interfere with each other, but not paradoxically. For example, the characters from the narrator’s universe can travel to the parallel, but developmentally lagging universe where it would seem to be 1357, but nothing they do there (like the Professor leaving his glasses) could ripple back.
P. 406: “Rafter,” “beam,” and “brace” are not interchangeable terms. Here there also seems to be a great deal of confusion about the relative size of the members (six inches or twelve inches) and the illustration shows a beam connecting the trusses (at the bottom of the king posts) in an impossible way (simply because Crichton needs Kate of enact a scene on it). ...more
“My sister could be so beautiful if she just took care of herself—combed her hair, got some sleep every once in a while. She’s like a picture of our m“My sister could be so beautiful if she just took care of herself—combed her hair, got some sleep every once in a while. She’s like a picture of our mother that someone crumpled up and tried to smooth out again.” (p. 89)
The book was better than I thought it would be, given the killer-asteroid scenario, and the titles of Winters’s other books, but the quirky, secondary characters really pop for me, and I enjoyed the book enough to look for the sequel. Here are a few picky notes:
P. 105. What is a “sharp shingle roof”? Toussaint stands up on it, so it can’t be much more than a 6-in-12 pitch. A male cop—even a young one—would be able to come up with a better descriptor. Similarly on page 175 “Toussaint turns on his heel, tries to escape to the spine of the roof.” While I know what he’s talking about, it’s called a “ridge” and Detective Palace would know this as well.
P. 235. Since when is the National Guard armed with AK-47s? Obviously Winters knows better, so I assume it sets up something later in the series, but it’s too unusual for the narrator not to comment.
P. 253. Either it’s a comet, or an asteroid (sounds more like a comet).
P. 259. “…a woman in a halter top on a unicycle, jugging (sic) bowling pins…” I only picked out a couple typos, but if you have to have one, this is the kind you want.
P. 274. “…where he had hung himself with the window cord.” If this means a “sash cord,” how did he get it out of the window casing (not to mention how rare it is to find an un-rotted sash cord these days). If this is a drape cord, I doubt that it would support his full weight. ...more
It’s hard to invest in characters when the plot points require them to be irrational (“nothing else matters” too often to Bella; Svetlana is like theIt’s hard to invest in characters when the plot points require them to be irrational (“nothing else matters” too often to Bella; Svetlana is like the old girlfriend who, while really good in bed, poisons your dog; and Schrope is too much of a strawman to excite blood-lust). The theme of retributive justice feels incompletely explored (retributive “justice” is an illusion) and if women are in the minority, why are they always in charge? Finally, not only was Bella’s martyrdom overly predictable, so was the way that martyrdom was cheated in the end. I did like the prologue/epilogue frame, but only because Chromis eventually became important to the plot. Here are a few other notes:
Why are astronauts in the 21st Century smoking onboard (as opposed to vaping) and were all those cigarettes packed up the gravity well?
Bella’s affair with Cagan makes her seem disagreeably opportunistic; and of course everyone on the planet would have known about it (not just Svetlana).
All the mutiny-reversals beggar credulity.
“If the former moon’s decelerating trend continued, it would soon be moving at constant velocity.” (p.116) I’m surprised any kind of physicist could say something like this.
“Fluency with mathematics—in the context of any kind of engineering discipline or physical science—was a use-it-or-lose-it skill.” (p. 231). While it’s true that theoretical mathematicians may have a small window of productivity during their young adulthood, neglected proficiency in applied mathematics, as with any language, can be easily restored.
“Christine had never visited the Fountainheads, yet she seemed young beyond her years.” (p. 312) You can be wise beyond your years, or even old beyond your years, but if you’re younger than you seem, you are younger than your years, and “beyond” just doesn’t work....more
While the prose was mostly adequate—even good in places—much of the narrative struck me as careless and poorly considered. I didn’t get a strong senseWhile the prose was mostly adequate—even good in places—much of the narrative struck me as careless and poorly considered. I didn’t get a strong sense of either Albuquerque or the futuristic setting. The epistolary entries and large blocks of nothing but dialogue were annoying. Worst, this seems the opening salvo of a series/trilogy, which only became obvious toward the end, as the author failed to put his little squiggle on things. The first book of a series (every book of a series) needs to be clearly marked as such, or needs to contain its own fully developed arc. Since I have no intention of reading a second book (and had no idea that I’d signed up for what appears to be a never-ending story) I probably should mark this as “abandoned” and give it a rating of 1. I did however make it to the putative end. ...more
My problem with the second book was the crawling pace with which Wilson spun out the trilogy’s concept—wasting his otherwise clean, sometimes elegantMy problem with the second book was the crawling pace with which Wilson spun out the trilogy’s concept—wasting his otherwise clean, sometimes elegant prose. I found the final book’s pacing much better, and the prose is consistently good: “Her glare could have blinded a cat (p. 86) “…the person she loved wasn’t me but a shadow I had ceased to cast” (p. 117). I especially liked the rather long epilog. What happened to narratives where we care enough about story to let the author explain himself (like Darcy to Elizabeth)? Exposition—especially in a concluding chapter—doesn’t detract from the “money-shot.”
Here are some additional notes:
Because we see it collapsing on the page (unbelievably, I might add) I think Wilson owes us a better explanation of the Arch. I assume (from the description) that it’s a catenary, but a free-standing arch (unlike a barrel vault) is a three-dimensional structure pretending to be two-dimensional. The problem of scale makes the structural difficulty (lateral loading and out-of-plane bending stresses) significant. Why does it have to be so big? Doesn’t such show-boating on the part of the Hypotheticals imply self-awareness?
“I was ten irrevocable centuries from home.” (p. 28) Not quite 10,000 years.
“The oak leaves trembled and seined the light.” (p. 142) “The air-circulation system eventually seined away any remaining dust.” (p. 332) “To seine” is an interesting verbalization, conjuring the image of a fishing-net, glistening in the sun, but the second (more straight-forward usage) takes away (IMHO) from the eccentricity of Wilson’s first usage (which I quite liked) . ...more
The differential-passage-of-time associated with “the Spin” isn’t unique (e.g., Blink of an Eye (ST:Voy:6:12) but Wilson gives the concept enough tweaThe differential-passage-of-time associated with “the Spin” isn’t unique (e.g., Blink of an Eye (ST:Voy:6:12) but Wilson gives the concept enough tweaks to make it his own. This is only the second Wilson novel I’ve read, but he generally seems to be strong on concept, and mediocre with character development. His storylines and language are good (potentially very good) but he allows too much questionable material to slip through the editing cracks. For example, with the storyline, the flashforwards prefigure too much, and the plot would be more fluid and interesting if we saw things (like the changing relationship between Tyler and Diane, or Diane’s survival) without already knowing how it turns out.
What I appreciate most about Wilson is his willingness to take chances in the interest of language. For example (p.185) “I had been indoors too long. Leaving the house was like stepping out of water into air; suddenly I was surrounded by nothing substantial at all.” But sometimes the metaphor/similes don’t quite work. On page 11 we read, “…the archway was the brightest thing in the sky now, a delicate silver letter U…written upside down by a dyslexic God.” First, we all know what a silver arch would look like (like McDonald’s or St. Louis, only bigger) and the gilded simile is too inexact. I believe that if your language doesn’t overstep occasionally, you probably aren’t pushing it hard enough, but that’s what editing is for. If you, as author, are in denial, then you need to run your language past a critique.
Here are some additional comments:
The bulk of the main storyline is set in the third and fourth decade of the 21st Century, but I felt no strong sense of being that far in the future (for a book written in 2005).
I’m not sure what a “thumb-and-pinky gesture” is (p.19).
The rear wheel of a bicycle has spokes, not struts (p. 34).
The “cleft between his upper front teeth” (p. 66) is more properly referenced as a gat, or gap, as in the gat-toothed Wife of Bath.
I can handle the reference to a “gibbous moon,” but not twice within a couple pages.
While I’m on the tendency to over write, Wilson prefigures Wun’s convoy attack (p. 261) twice within the couple preceding pages. ...more
LeGuin writes beautifully: “…Vea was curled up on the hassock at his knees, erect and supple, her soft breasts staring at him with their blind eyes,”LeGuin writes beautifully: “…Vea was curled up on the hassock at his knees, erect and supple, her soft breasts staring at him with their blind eyes,” (p. 228) but she always gives us so much to think about. For example, the anarchists realize that “…stability gives scope to the authoritarian impulse,” (p 167) yet Takver (LeGuin’s access character?) tells Shevek that she needs the stability “'I need the bond,’ she said. ‘Body and mind and all the years of life. Nothing else. Nothing less’” (p. 180). Expertise give us the stability we need to grow, but also give us the desire to manipulate, constraining the growth of the one manipulated (and ultimately constraining our own growth). It’s a fascinating social paradox.
I read this for the first time maybe ten or twelve years ago. I love her Science Fiction better than her fantasy, but I noticed this time through how much her SciFi benefit from the capacity to world-build, which she might not have developed so completely without her Fantasies (where the world-building is explicit rather than tacit)....more
The Cyber Punk theme is threadbare, the concept is weak, the POV shifts are needlessly confusing, and the characters are cartoonish (fighting on, letThe Cyber Punk theme is threadbare, the concept is weak, the POV shifts are needlessly confusing, and the characters are cartoonish (fighting on, let alone with telescoping high heels is simply ludicrous). This last bit brings up an interesting point; as Jessica Rabbit says, “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.” If your characters are cartoonish, either you’re not giving them enough thought, or (which might be the same thing) you’re forcing them to be what you want them to be, rather than what they want to be.
I’m surprised I made it all the way through this one, and might not have, if my to-read stack had been more imposing. ...more
The writing is careless, bordering on sloppy. None of the POV character are three-dimensional (maybe Holden, but Avasarala doesn’t work at all) and thThe writing is careless, bordering on sloppy. None of the POV character are three-dimensional (maybe Holden, but Avasarala doesn’t work at all) and the concept seem worth little more than an elevator pitch. What, exactly, is a “protomolecule” (we’ve had molecules for 14 billion years, and what would be the point)? Maybe a proto-molecule might work as a MacGuffin (sparing us vomit-zombies) something like the “Omega-molecule” (STVOY) sought by two-dimensional evil for its putative aesthetic value.
If I’d remembered reading the first book (Leviathan Wakes) I wouldn’t have bothered with this, the second book of a series. Unfortunately, the first book was unmemorable (I must have been feeling generous and gave it a three) and I picked up a copy of this book on the strength of a personal recommendation. I did make it all the way through (barely) and I understand that they’re transferring its storyline to the small screen. I’m not interested in reading the third book of the series (would have preferred not reading the second one) but am interested in seeing what they come up with for the video. You can cover the proverbial multitude on sins with a room full of screenwriters, decent actors, and a thoughtful director. ...more
This is a musty old sack of chestnuts, lacking sufficient coherence, except for the scenes on board the Astraeus. I did manage to finish (hence the raThis is a musty old sack of chestnuts, lacking sufficient coherence, except for the scenes on board the Astraeus. I did manage to finish (hence the rating of 2 rather than 1) but I would now choose to have those hours back (hence my rating of 2 rather than 3). The writing is similar to much of the pre-Sturgeon, pulp SciFi—written for if not by 14-year-old boys—lacking in imagination and writerly chops. And you can’t excuse your poor writing (like a pun) by pointing it out (e.g., Benny’s flesh wound). While the gaffs are too frequent to mention here, I did tag some of them on my e-copy, if anyone is interested. But perhaps we shouldn’t expect much from a project, which appears to be the more-or-less equal product of two individual writers, cobbled by an inherently flawed process.
As an academic, writing with multiple authors was typically encouraged and sometimes required, but I avoided it as much as possible. When it was unavoidable, I either wrote the whole thing myself; wrote my part and gave it a salutary peck on the cheek as I dropped in my OUT box; or allowed my good name (which was not likely to be universally defamed) to be attached as a kind of academic sinecure for whatever miniscule contribution I had made (to my credit, I only did any of this a half dozen times in twenty-eight years of full-time academic pursuit).
The process of team-writing may have a place in television (and to a lesser extent in film) because you’re writing to a schedule. This is consistent with the Beaux Art tradition of beating the cart by pummeling your project with man-and-woman-hours. Similarly in academics, where ten people will read what you write, and three will understand it, a flawed writing process may be excusable (quick and dirty). But multi-author productions of narrative prose, where all of them are actually putting words on the page, often seem like a Druidic circle of lesbian stroking each other’s dildos (no offence intended toward lesbians, Druids, or the dildo manufacturers of our great, Trumped-up republic). ...more
The allusions to African slavery and the Middle Passage (“justified” through its Christianizing influence) were interesting, but Jarret and the CA feeThe allusions to African slavery and the Middle Passage (“justified” through its Christianizing influence) were interesting, but Jarret and the CA feel like strawmen. Surely there must have been someone whose religious beliefs were less cynically professed. Surely there must have been opposition to Jarret—if only local—which would use the described oppression as political capital. Butler wrote well, but I felt that the rape and pillage was a little overdone. Of course, the rape and pillage of African slavery was also overdone—but here the lack of moral complexity in Earthseed’s nemesis weakens Butler’s narrative. The two-book series does find closure, although it feels a little rushed, and necessitates the sometimes confusing use of multiple-first-person narration.
While the notion of Earthseed as a biological destiny has been done, it does seem sufficiently developed here. The metaethics is biophilic, and the notion is that while life may be widespread, we have no good (deductive) reason to believe that it exists anywhere but on Earth. This being the case (and life being “good”) it becomes our categorical imperative to bring life to the rest of the universe. As with other ideologies, this destiny supersedes other things like placing some reasonable limit on the amount of human suffering. The problem (as with other religious ideologies) is that the justification is eschatological, becomes thin with repetition, and is not much of a comfort to those who suffer in the here-and-now. Why was Olamina so incapable of thinking outside the box of ideology even when the extant examples of ideology were so personally horrifying? Still, Butler’s writings form at least a part of the literary blessings of a generation. ...more
I’m not sure whether Heinlein’s H&MP instructors are supposed to be smart-asses given to specious logic, or if Heinlein is being a smart-ass givenI’m not sure whether Heinlein’s H&MP instructors are supposed to be smart-asses given to specious logic, or if Heinlein is being a smart-ass given to specious logic. For example, Major Reid says, “Under our system every voter and officeholder is a man who has demonstrated through voluntary and difficult service that he places the welfare of the group ahead of personal advantage.” If anything has been demonstrated, it’s that the volunteer combat soldier placed (past tense, Hume’s Problem of Induction) the welfare of his (combat) group ahead of purely personal advantage. If power corrupts, why would anyone assume that the surviving of a military billet provides some magic bullet against political corruption? We can debate whether service in Heinlein’s military is “voluntary.” If such service is the result of an uninformed choice, then, using the logic applied to cases of statutory rape, the service isn’t voluntary. Mass conscription has been used by warring nations since the time of the Napoleonic Wars, to respond to population pressures by culling their own, and their enemy’s underclass. Placing yourself in harm’s way for anything other than the safety of those you love would seem uninformed. The “voluntary” service described by Heinlein feels like manufactured consent.
Heinlein is a writer with interesting ideas, and sometimes the exploration of those ideas devolves to pedantry. Dubois and Major Reid are deontologists, and like a lot of deontologists, they feel that duty is the only source of moral obligation. They also seem to think that because natural rights exist outside the constraints of society (Jenseits von Gut und Böse) they are somehow less foundational. Natural rights are what we exchange with the Sovereign, subject to the consideration that the Sovereign will 1.) not kill us; 2.) try to pursuade others not to kill us; and 3.) allow us whatever freedoms don’t negatively impact on similar agreements (1 and 2) made with everyone else in the society. No one would sign a social contract, which allowed to a Sovereign to kill a signee at the Sovereign’s whim. The Sovereign has a limited (what Kant called an imperfect) obligation to rescue subjects who will otherwise die. When a Sovereign places one of its subjects in harm‘s way, subsequently letting that person die (or actively killing that person) such Sovereign has violated its perfect obligation (explicit in any contract to which anyone would freely agree) and entails a remainder moral obligation on the part of the Sovereign, even if that death is unavoidable.
While this is a re-read (I first read the book ten or fifteen years ago) it’s through my participation in a group read, and not because I considered the book worth a second pass (hense my rating). ...more
I was a little reluctant to start this trilogy since she never finished the third book, but I liked my two previous Butler reads (Kindred and FledglinI was a little reluctant to start this trilogy since she never finished the third book, but I liked my two previous Butler reads (Kindred and Fledgling). It’s an interesting choice, making California a failed state, rather than the standard post-apocalyptic nightmare, and I liked the political examination of debt-slavery (slavery in general). As with a lot of Butler’s work, there aren’t a lot of friendly white faces, and I suppose that’s what we look like to most of the world. I found the Lauren/Bankole hookup a little stretched, but I’m interested enough to see what Butler did with the second book. ...more
The writing is precise, but uninspiring. The revolving cast gives us little time to bond with individual characters, with the possible exception of DaThe writing is precise, but uninspiring. The revolving cast gives us little time to bond with individual characters, with the possible exception of David and Celia in Part I (clearly a self-contained story, stretched by the added parts into a novella) or Mark, toward the end. Finally, the over-arching concept doesn’t seem to have been adequately considered. All of this typically indicates an author writing too quickly, rather than a writer trying to understand something important.
The quest for meaning is hard-wired into our hunter-gatherer DNA. You could argue that no one is capable of actual creative ideation, but because we’re constantly looking for useful stuff, we occasionally find things we can use (sometimes, things we use in a new way). We’re occasioned to the slow decline of entropy and what we experience as the joy of creation could be more accurately described as the pleasant surprise of finding that things occasionally go in the other direction. Why would simple cloning erase our capacity to imagine?
There are other problems. Why was survival so difficult outside the valley? When they see an ice age coming, why don’t they pack up and move south? For that matter, if the ghost cities contain all the stuff they need, why don’t they just move to one of the ghost cities? ...more
Blue Light started off with a nice PKD edge, which fell apart for me about half-way through. Maybe there wasn’t enough in Mosley to sustain a long narBlue Light started off with a nice PKD edge, which fell apart for me about half-way through. Maybe there wasn’t enough in Mosley to sustain a long narrative. I understand that SciFi isn’t his genre, and that I shouldn’t be too hard on him. He’s an interesting writer, and maybe I’ll try one of his mysteries....more
The evacuation of earth seems less like the fall of Saigon (or of Crusader Jerusalem) and more like an odd inversion of the Nazi deportations from a WThe evacuation of earth seems less like the fall of Saigon (or of Crusader Jerusalem) and more like an odd inversion of the Nazi deportations from a Warsaw ghetto. As such, those with power would cover their own asses while claiming to protect common interests (Roger S. Gottlieb). We all use what power we have in the service of our perception of “the good” (at root, keeping ourselves alive). Those with exceptional access to power use that power to protect their extraordinary access (Hobbes). The readers, through Doob, know that JBF is up to something when she and Starling meet with him in the Oval Office on Day 260. Markus knows that she or someone similar will be up to something, so he prepares by gathering security. This leaves me with a number of questions: Why doesn’t Markus realize JBF is on the shuttle and have her simply pushed into a decaying orbit? Why doesn’t JBF already have a phalanx of armed operative onboard Izzy? Why would Markus leave JBF to a power vacuum by joining the mission to Ymir? Why did Sanderson create JBF (the first female president) as a strawman nemesis? Why max out the Cloud Ark’s population at year A+2 instead of allowing for at least a few generations of population growth? Does that first generation of the Cloud Ark’s women realize that they have signed on to be Axlotl tanks?
Families gathered at the US Embassy in Saigon, or flew together in helicopters to ships in the South China Sea because there was the hope of not just survival but a better life. People joining the Cloud Ark would be more like Tekla, realizing that their life was basically over, what was left of that life would be brutish and short, but which suffering they would endure in the interest of preserving a representation of the earth’s biosphere. Their point would be that while life may be widely spread throughout the universe, it may also be unique to earth, or that life on earth might otherwise have some irreplaceable value (like cancer-curing rainforest fungi). If life is uniquely here, but hasn’t yet reached the evolutionary “full measure of its being,” then the continuance of life is worth the pain of life.
Stephenson has a tendency to lose his narrative thread in tangential exposition. If he cut some of these out, his narrative would benefit. Maybe he would then have space to better explain the pendulum mechanics of the Cradle, and the occult, reciprocating orbit of the Rock (far more pertinent to the storyline than the space-development of projectile weapons). But Stephenson’s narratives have their own value, if only as exponents of hard SciFi, and I’m willing to wade through whatever packing the author considers essential. ...more
When a writer as schooled as Blake Crouch uses lines like: “Fear suddenly wore him like a glove;” or “His throat ached with emotion;” you know he isn’When a writer as schooled as Blake Crouch uses lines like: “Fear suddenly wore him like a glove;” or “His throat ached with emotion;” you know he isn’t giving it his best shot. Crouch seems to have had little planned for the third book other than “all hell breaks loose.” After bleeding over a couple hundred pages, the storyline falls apart like a maudlin drunk (the Ethan-Theresa-Adam-Kate tetrahedron just feels silly). This is too bad, since the trilogy’s concept is so good, but maybe they’ll be able to make as many improvements with the second season of the TV series as they did with the first.
The trilogy plotline is dependent on evolution taking place about ten orders of magnitude more quickly than it actually does. I think you can explain this, but Crouch doesn’t. How could Pilcher know that our genome is degrading, know how long that devolution will take, but not be prepared for climate change? For that matter, the place where you want to hide for 2000 years is not going to be the same place where you want to reintroduce the Great Arts of Civilization (Pilcher needs to be flawed, but he can’t be an idiot). The Ark is basically a stationary, multigenerational ship, so who is at the helm while everyone else is in stasis? The biggest problem of credibility is that the human population (which includes everyone in deep-freeze) is too small, while the abby population is too large (North America could not sustain 500,000,000 hunter gatherers). But I think the biggest problem for the books is that Pam and David are two-dimensional villains.
Here are a few other nit-picky things:
Recoil for a given shotgun is a function of the charge and the mass of the projectile, not the shape of the projectile.
A “trap-door” leading to a storm drain is a “man-hole cover,” and while concrete can certainly survived 2000 years underground, probably not in the presence of water and frequent freeze-thaw cycles. For that matter, 2000 years without maintenance in a saline environment should remove everything of the Golden Gate Bridge, with the possible exception of the concrete anchor blocks
Why is Megan Fisher being raped in the middle of Main Street by an abby? This behavior sounds more like the Firefly Reavers.
“Earth-based mortar” is used in log construction to thwart the entry of wind, and that log door isn’t going to keep anything out.
The Francis Leven character is introduced too late and feels like a deus ex machina.
Finally, I don’t think Theresa is not going to admire her son’s “doing a damn find job of holding his twelve-year-old shit together.” This just seems out of character. ...more
Crouch seems overly dependent on the presentation of prose fragments. The staccato sections of narrative do add a sense of urgency to moments of naturCrouch seems overly dependent on the presentation of prose fragments. The staccato sections of narrative do add a sense of urgency to moments of natural peril and suspense, but the utility is diminished by over-use; when the white-space becomes noticeable, it presents a distraction to the narrative. Still, the prose is imaginative and occasionally stunning (e.g., “the engine gargled”).
While I still want to read the third book (hence the 4-star rating) and while the concept is still good, I don’t think this second book lives up to the first. Mainly this is because I expect the second book of a trilogy to develop the moral complexity of its villains. The first season of the TV series does this, although it comes off a little schizophrenic, with regard to Pam, but while the characters of David and Pam deepen over the second book, they maintain a kind of two-dimensional personification of evil.
Here are a few nit-picky observations:
Conversations aren’t “legible,” they’re audible or distinct (p.71).
The trajectory of a .30-30 is not flat enough to be used as a long-range snipper’s weapon (p. 143). It’s perhaps more typically used in a lever-action carbine, in brush, and with short-range shots on the fly.
Ethan seems to get the back of his thigh cut open fairly often, but if he wants to fake a self-extraction, he might request that the wound not be sutured at all (p. 160).
I can imagine David wanting Ethan to wear a Stetson, but it’s hard to imagine Ethan actually wearing one without at least internal complaint (p. 162).
“Several thousand square feet” is the footprint of a mansion, not a “comfortable house” (p. 195).
No one who has lived in the Bay Area for more than a year is going to call San Francisco anything but “San Francisco,” or “The City” (p. 203). ...more
I loved the sustained reveal, Crouch does suspense well, and the language of the first chapter was probably as good as anything I’ve read in a while.I loved the sustained reveal, Crouch does suspense well, and the language of the first chapter was probably as good as anything I’ve read in a while. Here are a few nit-picky things:
Crouch tends to break from the character’s POV in a distractive way. For example, I don’t think Ethan is going to see bare bedsprings and think of them as “coiled copperheads.” Indiana (but not North Carolina) is at the edge of the Copperhead range, and I just think he’d be more likely (if he has to use a venomous snake analogy) to reference a rattlesnake; it just feels like the author insinuating himself into the POV. In a related way, it’s okay for the narrator (or Pam) to know about “temporal arteries,” a “thoracic spine,” or an “antecubital vein,” but I wouldn’t expect Ethan to know about them. And while a writer (or printer) might know about A4 paper, Ethan isn’t going to distinguish it from 8.5 by 11, unless he compares the two, and then he isn’t going to know what to call it.
Why would anyone take five turns of duct tape around a thigh wound? This would just make it harder to loosen, and more than two turns is overkill.
In 1985 Radio Shack had pretty much abandoned its MC68000 and Z80 designs for IBM PC clones, But why would an IBM rep be installing Tandy computer (rather than their own PCs)?
When Ethan wants to protect Beverly by wishing “to be hovering in a Black Hawk 200 feet above Main in control of a GAU-19 Gatling…” he sounds either impotent or 12.
I think the TV serialization lost something by not letting Kate (with Theresa and Ben) age between Ethan’s abduction and their reunions, but I think the TV stories gained by making Wayward Pines larger and the Abbie population smaller. Neither the book nor the TV adequately explains the Abbie’s rapid evolution (which could be easily done with a reference to Immanuel Velikovsky). The problem with a 2000 year time lag is that no artifacts (except concrete dams) could be expected to survive above ground, and even the viability of sealed soft-tissue items would seem problematic. Rapid de-evolution (over a couple generations) would eliminate the "no ruins" problem. Finally, since the Abbies are predatory carnivores, Crouch needs to explain how they are able to survive in such a crowded range. ...more
I did finish it, but this is the kind of stuff that supports the notion of writers being (simple) readers inspired to the point of emulation. Here, BrI did finish it, but this is the kind of stuff that supports the notion of writers being (simple) readers inspired to the point of emulation. Here, Brown is emulating a genre, rather than exploring life.
Genre fiction should expand the genre. Red Rising is overly derivative. Of course derivative is what popular fiction demands (please don’t do anything to confuse the audience) and I suppose we should blame Del Rey rather than Brown, but comparing Red Rising to any of the Ender books is like (as I heard often in the 1960s) comparing Lost in Space with Star Trek. Brown tells us nothing new, Darrow is a dick, and the writing just feels sloppy:
“I did not notice her slip a feather from her wing into my breast pocket.” (If he doesn’t notice it, how can he tell us.)
“I hear an arrow nock on a bowsting.” (Okay, maybe they gave him bionic hearing.)
“My voice is withering in its condescension.”
“The men are freakishly muscular and tall. Their arms and chest bulge with artificial strength.”
“He cartwheeled sideways into the low gravity, going horizontal and shuddering from my raining blows as he hit the ground.”
In a society of supposed gender equality, why are women still so susceptible to rape? For that matter, why is it still an arch insult to be called a girl, or why does Mustang bring back an escaped girl “bent over her own horses neck, spanking her butt with the standard as they gallop back.
But I think my biggest problem is that the Martian setting seems ad hoc; in spite of the fact that we are frequently (if only explicitly) reminded of the low gravity, nothing else seems plausible as having happened on a terraformed Mars.
(view spoiler)[Don’t get me started about the deus ex machina gravBoots, which show up on cue.
The concept was poorly thought out, the characterizations were puerile, and the writing was sloppy. That said, it wasn’t any worse than his first noveThe concept was poorly thought out, the characterizations were puerile, and the writing was sloppy. That said, it wasn’t any worse than his first novel. I did manage to finish both books, but wouldn’t have in the absence of an external incentive. Nothing in the novel was surprising, aside from the numerous f*bombs cropping up in a book otherwise written for rather dense, 14-year-old boys....more
The time jumps—integral to the storyline—might have been less jarring if accomplished in larger bites. And while I’m glad that Gibson is still doing cThe time jumps—integral to the storyline—might have been less jarring if accomplished in larger bites. And while I’m glad that Gibson is still doing cyberpunk, the beauty of his language comes through too infrequently (“He imagined her ego swimming up behind them to peer at him suspiciously, something eel-like, larval, transparently boned”)....more
Why doesn’t Titus (who left England for the Antarctic in 1910) know about elevators? Why would he assume that doctors were due a social respect, whichWhy doesn’t Titus (who left England for the Antarctic in 1910) know about elevators? Why would he assume that doctors were due a social respect, which transcended their class (germ theory was just beginning to make its way). Before germ theory, physicians were ethically limited to letting blood (primum non nocere) and only had aspirin after 1897. Surgeons were a step below physicians, and a step above barbers, although probably not more valued than a good barber. Still, while the Scott Expedition research is admirable, it may have created the narrative’s main problem: Clough couldn’t let go of the research, and so made Titus Oates her POV character.
The Edwardianisms and Oates “heroic” struggle with his androcentrism wear thin by the end of the novel. We all want the reader to taste Oates, but this might have been accomplished more effectively in the dialog, and if Shell had been the POV character. It’s always hard to write transgender, but especially if you let romance rear its ugly head. I think you might see what I mean by comparing Connie Willis’s Blitz novel from her Oxford cycle—the reader gets a flavor for WWII England, without having to wash up afterwards.
I should also admit that this is the first, and possibly the only novel I’ll try to read electronically (Kindle). I like the fact that I can highlight a word and get a dictionary definition (providing it isn’t one of the Edwardianisms) but this doesn’t make up for the text formatting problems, at least with my reader. Because of this, I started the novel several months ago, and only finished it now because I was waiting for a book to come into my library. I decided to try the electronic reader because I like Clough’s work, and this novel isn’t available in print. I feel like a horrible curmudgeon saying this, but an electronic medium is an awful way to read a novel. ...more
There is a difference between a novel that lends itself to ideology (In Dubious Battle) and a novel conceived in ideology (The Grapes of Wrath). WhileThere is a difference between a novel that lends itself to ideology (In Dubious Battle) and a novel conceived in ideology (The Grapes of Wrath). While Le Guin always writes beautifully, I think the ideology here is a little too thinly veiled.
One of the problems is that social cooperation only happens in an environment of relative scarcity. In a condition of relative abundance, there is no incentive to cooperate (someone steals you mango, you just pick another mango). In a condition of actual scarcity (not enough mangos to insure the survival of everyone) cooperation is actually in conflict with survival. So why would the bulk of Shanti’s hang around long enough to be seen as objects of oppression. Also, while there is a clearly feminist tone, why does the City plan to provoke the Townies by “outraging” their women? This feels counter to the feminist notion that women are more than vessels (for devotion or wrath). ...more
This is a good example of how science fiction can take a very simple idea and expand it into a compelling narrative. The protagonist is narcissistic,This is a good example of how science fiction can take a very simple idea and expand it into a compelling narrative. The protagonist is narcissistic, but in a very human way, and although the narrative is sometimes sentimental (the glider scene comes to mind) I found these lapses forgivable. I found it less understandable that Jeff becomes so caught up in amassing the material. After all, he’s 18 years old; he has a chance to do college again (at a time in life when nothing else is going to be expected of him). Why doesn’t he just study something new each time he has the chance?
I don’t think Grimwood was trying to tell us that Jeff was spoiled, but the character does come off this way, especially with the string of Replay bimbos. For example, I didn’t know any kid in 1963 that had a TV in their room (granted, I turned 13, not 18 that year). TVs were becoming portable by this point, so I suppose it was possible, but Jeff had also been sent away to a boarding school by his parents. All of this decreased the natural empathy that might attach to someone so isolated.
I think the novel has to (and does) get by on the conceptualization, and sometimes Grimwood’s language doesn’t seem up to the task. For one thing, there’s the verbal description of visual arts (never a good idea) which makes the works of art seem trivial (Starsea, and Pamela’s paintings and video montage). Sometimes the language failures are funny (“Jeff wanted to kiss the streaks away, wanted to bathe her with his mouth as a cat would a kitten”). All in all, the book is well worth reading, but here are two things that didn’t work for me:
The moon doesn’t rise above the Pacific (p. 143) unless you’re looking at it from the west.
“But this was no television drama, no science fiction plot.” ...more
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