How many famous space captains are there in science fiction—the
square-jawed heroic type? Captain Kirk,
Commander Riker, Captain Robert E. Lee, Han Solo, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon,
and on and on goes the list of masculine men oozing competence, strength, and wit.
Working hand in hand, every captain likewise has an antagonist, an
almost-as-competent man whose visions of success are skewed to the
egotistical—Darth Vader, Khan, Ming the Merciless among them. This dichotomy the reason behind many a
successful book and film, there remains another question: what does the larger
picture look like? What does one see
standing above this battle of testosterone?
James Tiptree Jr’. 1976 novella Houston,
Houston, Do You Read? answers the question in biting, challenging fashion.
Houston, Houston, Do You
Read? is the story of Dr. Lorimer, a scientist aboard a NASA mission gone
wrong. Their ship Sunbird One struck by solar radiation while amongst the inner
planets, they are limping back to Earth at the story’s opening. Lorimer’s fellow crew members, the religious
Captain Dave and the good ol’ engineer Bud, are relaxed despite the damage
their ship has taken, and are enjoying the trip. But when a communication to NASA in Houston
fails to generate a reply, things turn strange.
Even stranger is when another spaceship, called the Escondita, contacts them out of the blue, telling them they are
off-course. The test of pride that
follows this announcement is only the beginning, however. The three men’s lives changed forever in the
aftermath, whose instrumentation is telling the truth is up for the reader to
find out.
A brilliant subversion of a common theme in sci-fi, Houston, Houston, Do You Read? is as
bold as it is pointed. The Escondita full of more information than
just a course alteration, the three men’s encounter with a ship full of women
after two years in space proves an awesome testing ground. Holding no punches, their square-jawed
competency is interrogated to the nth
degree by Tiptree. While the climax
reduces these characters to wooden actors, there is more than enough primeval
humanity motivating the action to warrant a recommendation.
It will be a quick note—just as it is in the text, but
something must be said for the last sentence of the novella. It’s utterly brilliant. The proverbial cherry on top, it is a
slingshot that sets the mind’s wheels spinning, making the reader wonder which
of the options is in fact best for the future given the evidence just offered.
In the end, Houston,
Houston, Do You Read? is a daring, challenging read written in equally
provocative prose. Not in the sense the
text is difficult (though Tiptree does write in a sparse yet poetic language
that requires that brief extra moment to glean meaning), rather in the sense
that existing norms—particularly of the era in which the story was written and
which continue to exist today—may in fact not be best for society. Unabashedly a feminist text, it makes for
powerful reading with a powerful message.
One of the few books I've been unable to review was her collection Ten Thousand Light-Years from Home (1973). I loved about half of the stories but the other half I found rather frustrating.... But, And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill's Side (1972) was downright amazing -- she played with the trope of Westerners finding the "native" sexual alluring and "exotic." Humans of the future will find aliens sexually alluring. I need to read more of her work, that's for sure. Tempted by her only novel (it's not supposed to be her best work), Up the Walls of the World (1978).
ReplyDeleteAnd what prevents you from reviewing the collection? The lack of desire to disparage half of the stories?
DeleteAh, there's an entire list of works I've been "unable" to review in the history of my blog (for a variety of reasons, namely not having sufficient time and then waiting too long to review it). Ballard's masterpiece The Drowned World, Delany's Nova, Silverberg's Dying Inside and The Masks of Time, Bunch's masterpiece Moderan, Russ' The Female Man, Tiptree's Ten Thousand Light-Years from Home, etc....
DeleteOh, I also realized that I "signed" my first post in another account. The Archon of the Metalogicon = Joachim Boaz -- haha
DeleteSounds like time for a re-read. :)
DeletePoetic text sounds do you mean pretentious writing by a snob who lived a cultured and comfortable life while claiming she suffered because daddy said no once to many times?
ReplyDelete