Month: May 2006

  • Pern is a bit Pulpish

    Pern is a bit Pulpish

    Well, I’m a few chapters into Dragonquest, and the book is kind of annoying me.  Probably not enough to put it down, but it’s not an elegantly written book.  There is little economy of language — everything explained and detailed in narrative form — which tells me that the authors I’ve been reading bring more poetry to their language then I realized.  Comparison can shed a harsh light.

    It’s not bad.  It’s just not great, and I’ve been reading some great books.  And the question comes up:  why not just read Great Books?  And I guess my answer is this:  even if an author doesn’t have the fine artists’ grasp of language or story telling, their ideas may have worth.  And in SF stories, the contexts are interesting even when the story or language sometimes is not.  One of the strongest things SF has to offer is visions of alternate planets, flora and fauna, ways of life, ways of thinking and living, of building and traveling, and of conceiving of the solar system/galaxy/universe.  Authors need not constrict themselves to what exists and what has existed.  Imagination is one of the most wonderful human qualities, and SF is a fertile field for it to grow in.

    So, Pern, here I come.  Show me what McCaffrey sees in her mind, what she envisions outside of our earth and time-bound reality.

  • A Trip to Pern

    A Trip to Pern

    Having wrapped up a series, there’s always a serious question of “what next?”

    Sometimes I know in advance, have something lined up, ready to go.  Sometimes I meander the shelves for something familiar, seeking a particular mood or voice or world.  And other times, such as the last few weeks, I’ve stumbled about.  Sci fi or not? fantasy? re-read or new? venture into a new genre? stay with the current one?  Grrrr!  Can’t make up my mind sometimes.

    My decision last night was to pick up the second Dragonriders of Pern book:  Dragonquest, by Anne McCaffrey (1971).  I’ve been looking for the first book, used, for months to no avail.  Screw it! I decided, and fortunately found a pretty good synopsis of the scenario in the prologue to the book.  Off we go!  I’ll fill in the gap of the first book sometime down the road.

    McCaffrey is not the writer that some of my more recent novels have offered — Arthur C. Clarke, Aldous Huxley, Charlotte Bronte, Samuel Delaney all are much more lyrical in their language; and as Ursula K. Le Guin is always an author whose voice sets a standard for me, whether I am reading her currently or not, I suppose she belongs in that list, too.  McCaffrey is a story-teller, not a crafter of language.  Still, I expect I’ll read quite satisfied, once I get into the swing of the new “world” I’ve entered.  It’s been years (a couple of decades at least) since I read any of the Pern books, so it’s almost like tackling a brand new book.

    I decided I will switch gears for a bit after this one, or at least after I run the course of Pern books (one? five? twenty? who knows?).  I picked up Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden) at Costco today.  I’ve heard too much about not to want to see what’s inside.

  • 3001: Close of the Odyssey Quartet

    3001: Close of the Odyssey Quartet

    Finished 3001 this morning, cat in lap.  I think it was the best of the four books, because it dealt more with the human experience of the extraordinary events and contexts created by Clarke, as he depicted human society a thousand years from now.  But then (as mentioned previously) I like the very-human element in fiction, to get inside the characters observations, experience, emotions.

    But as to the very end of the book first:  Unlike many fictional works, Clarke included an afterword acknowledging the scientific sources for some of his concepts, a few parallel real-life developments of his imagined technologies, and numerous mentions of how other people — scientists and people in the publishing industry — influenced his works.  Most interesting set of acknowledgments I’ve seen in a long time, not just for their breadth, but for their readability. 

    The book traces Poole’s reintroduction into human society of the fourth millenium, and his parallel quest for contact with the alien Europans (not to be confused with Europians; they are sea creatures (or possibly plants) on Jupiter’s moon Europa.  It’s a good depiction, all the way to the end, of a man amazed by his new environment, but determined to just roll with it as best he can.  He does so all the way to the end of the story, pursuing information about the Europans and the monolith because it’s the best reason he can think of to take advantage of his second life.  It rewards him:  he reconnects with two of the most intimate beings from his 2001-era life:  Dave Bowman and HAL, each “emulated” by the monolith, each having something of their essence captured by the technology of the monolith.

    Along the way we get to see multiple inventions and extension of current technology.  One of the most amazing is a kilometers-high tower (four of them, actually) , reaching to an orbiting structure, like a belt around the earth. 

    From 3001: The Final Odyssey:
    He was looking down on the distant Mediterranean from the face of a cylindrical tower, whose gently curving wall indicated a diameter of several kilometers. But that was nothing compared with its length, for it tapered away down, down, down–until it disappeared into the mists somewhere over Africa. He assumed that it continued all the way to the surface.

    “How high are we?” he whispered.

    “Two thousand kay. But now look upward.” This time, it was not such a shock: he had expected what he would see. The tower dwindled away until it became a glittering thread against the blackness of space, and he did not doubt that it continued all the way to the geostationary orbit, thirty-six thousand kilometers above the equator. Such fantasies had been well known in Poole’s day: he had never dreamed he would see the reality–and be living in it.

    He pointed toward the distant thread reaching up from the eastern horizon.

    “That must be another one.” +”Yes–the Asian Tower. We must look exactly the same to them.”

    “How many are there ?”

     “Just four, equally spaced around the Equator. Africa, Asia, America, Pacifica. The last one’s almost empty–only a few hundred levels completed. Nothing to see except water. . .”

    Poole was still absorbing this stupendous concept when a disturbing thought occurred to him.

    “There were already thousands of satellites, at all sorts of altitudes, in my time. How do you avoid collisions?”

    lndra looked slightly embarrassed.

    “You know-1 never thought about that–it’s not my field.” She paused for a moment, clearly searching her memory. Then her face brightened. .

    “I believe there was a big cleanup operation, centuries ago. There just aren’t any satellites, below the stationary orbit.”

    That made sense, Poole told himself. They wouldn’t be needed–the four gigantic towers could provide all the facilities once provided by thousands of satellites and space stations.

    “And there have never been any accidents–any collisions with spaceships leaving Earth, or reentering the atmosphere ?”

    Indra looked at him with surprise. “But they don’t, anymore.” She pointed to the ceiling. “All the spaceports are where they should be–up there, on the outer ring. I believe it’s four hundred years since the last rocket lifted off from the surface of the Earth.”

    I found the physical structure of the towers and “Star City” fascinating — more details are flushed out throughout the novel.  One of the special aspects of SF stories are the infinte possibilities of context — environment, time, technology, social behavior, biology, whatever you can think of is up for grabs, as long as what the author presents is at least vaguely consistent with, at minimum, itself.  Clarke imagined a good one here, but also notes in the back of the book:

    The concept of a “ring around the world” in the Geostarionary Orbit (GEO), linked to the Earth by towers at the Equator, may seem utterly fantastic but in fact has a firm scientific basis.  It is an obvious extension of the “Space Elevator” invented by the St. Petersburg engineer Yri Artsutanov…

    He goes on to reference real-life scientific speculations by both American and Soviet research programs, suggested that these ideas may be currently out of reach, but not impossible given the right means and materials.

    Recommend this book, recommend the series.

  • 3001: A shift in the series

    3001: A shift in the series

    So a note as I work my way into the fourth book in Clarke’s series…  In 2001, the characters were very remote — real apes, real people, but only the barest frame of character development.  Even though we got to know Dr. Floyd and Dave Bowman enough to recognize the basic type of personality each possessed, and received a little background info on each, we knew them only in the surface sense.  The story was about the events, not the people.

    In contrast, 3001 is almost completely focused on Frank Poole’s experience and observations, as he returns to humanity after a thousand year sleep.  His emotions, and experience while not as deeply explored as in, say, a Delaney or Le Guin novel, are how the events and circumstances are presented, as opposed to the first book where third-party narrative is how we learn what is happening from an “objective” viewpoint.  The third-party narrative in the fourth book is about what Frank is observing, feeling, experiencing.  Very different.

    The middle books, 2010 and 2061, make the transition, with the second book being a little more “emotional” and the third book continuing in the same direction.

    Perhaps Clarke’s own way of telling a story changed, perhaps he felt this particular story needed a different way of being told.  Who knows?  I like the trend, though.

  • Delaney’s Babel-17 and Huxley’s Brave New World

    Delaney’s Babel-17 and Huxley’s Brave New World

    I finally tracked down Clarke’s 3001: The Final Odyssey — my goodness, a rather hard volume to find, in my locale.  At least, not used.  Of course, 2001, 2010, and 2061 are readily available, cheap and used.  But 3001 for some reason, is a challenge.  I slunk into Borders this afternoon, and bought it brand spanking new.  Jeez.

      In any case, to fill the gap between the end of 2061 and 3001, I first traveled through Delaney’s Babel-17, published in 1966 (Nebula winner), a novel which is not at the top of the list of Delaney books for me, but was interesting none-the less.  The plot centers around, among other things, the concept that language — its form, its way of categorizing and ranking, its tendency to hide concepts for which is hasn’t created words — controls the way we perceive the world and our own potential.  Also features a female main character, rare for that era.

      Having finished that one, and not having found 3001 yet, I revisited another old favorite, Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World.  What a wonderful book.  published in 1932, and though dated here and there technologically, the book’s themes are absolutely on track for our era, and presumably eras to come.  Highly recommended, for all the usual reasons.

    Aaahhh… and now for the final (authors always get themselves in trouble titling things “final”) episode in the story of How the Aliens Manipulated Us and It All Turned Out for Our Own Good.   Not to disrespect the series, but it is a very hopeful view of humanity, despite the many crises which pepper its pages.

  • Space Odyssey Three: 2061

    Space Odyssey Three: 2061

    This has proved to be the best of the three in some ways.  Certainly Clarke looks more deeply at what the humans might be experiencing, feeling, worrying about as they encounter unbelievable events.

    Much of the science of the book has to do with Jupiter being converted to a small sun by an exponentially expanding (devouring?) brigade of monoliths.  They suck up the gaseous energy of the planet, and big explosion happens, and suddenly our old familiar galactic neighborhood is a dual-solar system, or at least, is becoming one.

    Is this even remotely possible, or at least in a way where all the other planets would survive intact?

    However, Clarke had quite the foundation in good astronomical science, so maybe it’s possible.     

    Addendum 6/6/06:  2010: Odyssey Two.   I never really wrote about this book; it was interesting, in an abstract way, but not absorbing.  In some sense it’s a mystery story:  What Happened to the Discovery and David Bowman?  What did his last words (Oh my god! it’s full of stars!) mean?  And the book is also a race: will the Chinese, or the Americans recover the data first?

    In any case, not as absorbing, but I didn’t want to let the reading of the book lose its place in this reading journal.  So now, it sits in its rightful place in the chronology.