Review of Kiteworld by Keith Roberts

If the dear reader has spent any amount of time in Southeast Asia, or read about the cultures existing there, they will be aware of the prayer flag.  If one has been even luckier and able to travel to the Tibetan Himalayas, they will have wonderful memories of the strings and strings of colorful flags stretched across valleys, hanging from bridges, and flapping in the wind atop mountains.  Prayers inscribed on each flag, they believe the words of mankind are blown to the heavens for blessings and protection from the gods.  Employing a similar scenario in in his 1985 Kiteworld, Keith Roberts extends the Christian church steeple into the sky: manned kites fly above an England rebuilding in the aftermath of destruction.  The perspective downward rather than upward, however, the colorful objects sent aloft are for watching over the land rather than bringing humanity closer to the heavens.

The land ravaged, and civilized society only beginning to rebuild itself, the setting of Kiteworld is a futuristic, post-nuclear war England wherein the Church has absolute power.  Though berms and walls are established that separate normal society from the wilds, it is not enough; protection is also needed against the demons that roam the badlands and traverse the skies.  Establishing bases along mountain ranges and the coastlines which form natural boundaries, massive manned kites are kept flying continually aloft, watching for invaders and shooting them, as necessary.  Aristocracy getting permission from the Church to fly kites from their own palaces and mansions, colorful streamers can also be seen amongst the towns, villages, and cities.  And the kitemen, no matter working in the private sector or directly for the church, are given exclusivity and absolute respect by the populace.  Like soldiers, they are considered guardians of the land, and due to the uncertainty of their lives, awarded with admiration, even hero status.  Tossed on the currents of wind and facing evil demons, indeed many meet an untimely end.  Law, taxes, civil government, and other aspects of civilization slowly settling back into place as the Kitemen guard over the land, Kiteworld tells the stories of a handful of the men and women living the uncertain reality of post-war times.

Review of Race to the Stars ed. by Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend

Slim science fiction anthologies now a piece of history, the idea of picking up a small book for a few cents featuring only a handful of stories is strange to a generation accustomed to doorstopper ‘year’s best’ anthologies and sprawling collections having twenty or more stories from their favorite author.  Gone are the days a publisher thought to re-print a couple of popular selections, hoping to squeeze a few additional cents from fan favorites.  Unless ebooks revive the format, anthologies like Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend’s collaborative 1958 Race to the Stars are a thing of the past.

Race to the Stars features four novellas, all published at least a decade prior to being anthologized by Margulies and Friend, and one nearly two: “The City of the Lost Ones” (1949) by Leigh Brackett (better known as “Enchantress of Venus”), “Forgotten World” (1946) by Edmond Hamilton, “The Time Gate” (1941) by Robert A. Heinlein (better known as “By His Bootstraps”), and “The Sun Maker” (1940) by Jack Williamson.  Each story has been reprinted at least four times since, with Heinlein’s in a whopping fifteen different anthologies or collections and re-printed in The Menace of Earth alone twenty-one times. 

Review of Plague Ship by Andre Norton

Much of Golden Age science fiction is bound up in the pseudo-scientific, quasi fantastic renderings of heroic frontier stories set in space.  The market demanding a large quantity of such stories, sub-genres split off—planetary romance/adventure, lost in space, alien attack, among them.  Another branch which sprouted was in the world of merchants and traders of extra-terrestrial goods.  It is in this minor vein that Andre Norton published her Solar Queen series.  Planetary adventure mixed with the legalities, economies, and rivalries of interstellar trade, the second of these books Plague Ship (1956) is the subject of this review.

Plague Ship is the story of the freighter Solar Queen and the trouble she gets into on the planet Sargol.  Part of the Free Traders union, the crew establish initial contact with the clan-like Salariki, and thus claim the right to be the only group allowed to trade for their precious Koros stones and valuable timber.  But when a rival merchant illegally butts in, tempers flare.  A Salariki family drama playing out simultaneously, dragging the Free Traders and their rivals into a fray, Dane Thorson, Ollie, Rick, and other crew of the Solar Queen are lucky to get off planet with the hold full of the valuable wood.  But as crew members start to come down with symptoms of illness and drop into incapacity, it seems their troubles are only beginning.

Review of The Shockwave Rider by John Brunner

Something of a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, John Brunner is one of the more intriguing though lesser recognized figures in science fiction history.  Much the same as Robert Silverberg, he cut a path for himself in genre writing what is essentially pulp sci-fi but later began introducing novels of significantly greater depth to his oeuvre.  Stand on Zanzibar, The Sheep Look Up, and The Jagged Orbit are some of the most important novels the field has produced.  Drastically elevating the form above common genre trappings, a fourth novel is generally added to this list of socially and politically motivated works from Brunner: 1975’s The Shockwave Rider.  Though technically a forerunner to the plethora of cyberpunk texts that would emerge soon thereafter, the novel, in fact, bears more in common with the socially conscious, atypically structured, politicized novels of the New Wave.  Regardless of taxonomy, it remains a prescient look at the power of information control and the fragmentation of society and identity.

The Shockwave Rider is the story of Nickie Haflinger.  Raised at a hidden government school at a cost of three million tax payer dollars per year, the secrets of the system he slowly learns are enough to turn him off, and eventually away.  Escaping into the world as a young adult, he uses near autistic savant capabilities to re-program the network to assume a new identity each time he is discovered by the government.  By turns a televangelist and rich playboy (among other professions), he lives aimlessly, and only to avoid detection as he tries to sort out his own place in the world.  But called out by the daughter of a major corporate CEO, the façade he’s created for himself slowly begins to peel away.  Trouble is, exposing himself leads government searches all the closer. 

Review of The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett

The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic, the first novels in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, starred the weak-kneed, least-likely hero Rincewind and the world’s first tourist, Twoflower.  In their grand adventure around the disc, incorrigible Cohen the Barbarian—an aged parody of the one and only Conan the Barbarian—was among the characters they ran into.  Dentures, sagging flanks, and a wispy white beard, his better years of raiding lost tombs, ravishing ladies, and defeating mighty foes in battle were far behind him.  But only in reality.  Creaky back and all, his mind was that of a twenty-year old, still set on conquering the world one monster and jewel at a time.  But Cohen remained a side character.  It is in The Last Hero (2001) that Pratchett brings the old man, and all his wild ideas, to the forefront, serving complete notice the genre has moved beyond such simplified worldviews as the Vikings, Robert E. Howard, and others’ who contrive to drag humanity back into the jungle with their epic fantasy male ultra-heroes.

In old age, Cohen the Barbarian and his raider friends have decided to go out in classic barbarian style: in a blaze of not only proverbial glory, but also literal fire.  Their goal to destroy the holy mountain Cori Celesti, they plan to reverse Prometheus and return fire to the gods in the form of a massive bomb.  Kidnapping a bard and dragging him along, they believe their last campaign is one for the ages: the bard’s poetry will etch their names in the annals of Discworld history.  By chance, Lord Vetinari has become aware of Cohen’s plan.  Problem is, the barbarian has such a head start there’s no possibility anybody from Ankh-Morpork can catch him.  In a last ditch effort, Vetinari enlists Leonard of Quirm to design a solution to the problem.  And design de Qurim does.  Utilizing the explosive power of swamp dragons, he builds a great wooden ship that, after rising into the atmosphere, will slingshot around the disc and, if all goes as planned, arrive at Cori Celesti ahead of Cohen.  The mad inventor taking Captain Carrot and Rincewind with him, the race to the mountain is on.  Question is, just exactly who will have their name appear in legend?

Review of Halting State by Charles Stross

Early science fiction speculated only here and there on the possibilities of gaming and alternate realities in virtual space.  Arthur C. Clarke’s The City & the Stars mentions the idea in passing, and in William Gibson’s Neuromancer the larger possibilities begin to emerge.  Later writers, like Neal Stephenson, Greg Egan, Ted Chiang, and David Marusek for example, expanded life in virtual reality into whole stories and novels.  But it is Charles Stross who has fully understood and embraced the ever-expanding realities of gaming and second lives and included them in fiction.  A science fiction realm if ever there were, his 2007 Halting State­—part gamer’s gush, part conspiracy theory, and all nerd rapture—is a prime example of contemporary society’s involvement in virtual worlds.

Halting State is the story of three people and the political, technological, and virtual mess they get themselves into with a popular computer game.  Edinburgh detective, Sergeant Sue Smith, is called to the scene of a bizarre crime in the opening chapter.  What looks like a concrete bunker on the outside is actually the headquarters of Avalon 4, a massive multiplayer online game, and they have just been robbed.  Not the petty cash drawer or the source code of their wildly popular game, rather the virtual bank that exists inside Avalon 4, and all of its virtual items and money.  Elaine Barnaby is an insurance fraud investigator.  Her company called in to investigate the Avalon 4 case, her job only becomes more surreal as the investigation moves from the real world into the virtual, and her own role in the proceedings even murkier as the sides lose concrete shape. And lastly is Jack Reed.  Waking up hungover and handcuffed to a signpost in Amsterdam, his status as an unemployed programmer takes a turn for the better when Elaine’s firm requires his technical expertise to help investigate if or how the virtual crime was pulled off.  Insider trading?  An opportunistic hacker/player?  Insurance fraud?  As more and more details of the case are unveiled, the more and more complex the world—and our world—become. 

Review of The Very Best of Fantasy & Science Fiction: 60th Anniversary Anthology ed. by Gordon van Gelder

The typical speculative fiction anthology of original material that appears on shelves these days is a selection of stories intended to reach a particular niche of readers while finding as many tangents within that niche as possible to avoid monotony.  The themed anthology self-limiting, rarely do great or superb anthologies appear, average to slightly above average the usual result.  It is the retrospective anthology, with its ability to glean the years for quality stories, that has a chance at greatness.  If you’re the editor of Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine, well, the possibilities are all the brighter.  The magazine publishing speculative fiction for more than half a century, and best-of every five to ten years since 1970, in 1999 Gordon van Gelder took the reins from Edward L. Ferman and produced a 50th Anniversary edition from the magazine’s backlog.  A success, he came back with another ‘very best of’ selection of stories in 2009 for the 60th anniversary anthology.  The magazine’s archives deep (perhaps like no other magazine can boast) and van Gelder's editorial skills consistent, the 60th is just as consistently good as the 50th.  (And for the record, so is the 65th.)

The anthology opens on a scattershot shot of color from the genre’s past.  Three stories in a row—rat-a-tat-tat—anticipate the reader’s hopes all will be as good.  “Of Time and Third Avenue” by Alfred Bester is the result of an author trying to write the best time travel story, ever.  A brief few pages, indeed it is a perfect little specimen (for whatever it’s worth) written in Bester’s supremely confident, dynamic hand that captures one magical possibility of time travel.  “All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury is a tiny, sparkling jewel of a story.  A breathtaking moment of juxtaposed beauty and pain, the rain does stop falling on Venus—but only for a moment. “One Ordinary Day, with Peanuts” by Shirley Jackson is a charming and delightful story of a man who… well, it’s best just to read the story and find out.  A bit of post-WWII Americana, its sentiment produces nostalgia for simpler days.

Review of Ribofunk by Paul Di Filippo

I think it’s fair to say the name Paul Di Filippo is known to the majority of modern science fiction and fantasy connoisseurs but by few readers from the genre’s mainstream.  Experimental stylistically, imaginatively unlimited, in dialogue with genre, sophisticated presentation, and often ahead of his time, there is a genre radar, and Di Filippo flies under it for most of fandom.  Exhibiting these talents is his wild 1996 collection Ribofunk.  As abstract as can be, it is the off the wall science fiction written in dynamic prose that vacillates between poetic, experimental, and straight-forward narratives to present a biopunked worldview of the future. 

Like randomly hopping trains at every station, Ribofunk is a loosely connected series of stories that are definitely going somewhere but the destination is not important.  It’s the view along the way that counts for Di Filippo.  Characters and settings not the main linkages, the possibilities of human/animal biology coupled with neuroscience are the ideas cohering the collection.  And the possibilities are untamed.  “Little Worker” is the story of a human-imal servant, gene spliced sex toys, a prime minister, and southern rebels—bizarreness that works its way to a satisfactory ending.   “One Night in Television City” is that of a city boy who goes looking for drugs one night.  Getting what he wants, it takes him to the highest of highs.  But how to get down?  “McGregor”, which is Beatrix Potter’s tale of Peter Rabbit flipped on its head, spun in circles, then induced into a round or two of cartwheels is the story of how Peter looks for revenge on the farmer.  Along with the three blind mice and Flopsy, he works to free the other barnyard animals from the farmer.  With Peter puffing cigs and hanging a leary eye on Flopsy, this is not the children’s story you remember.

Review of Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate by Richards Parks

My first encounter with Richard Parks as a reader was a nice surprise.  Going through The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year Vol. 8 I came across the story “Cherry Blossoms on the River of Souls”. About a young boy who goes investigating the well outside his bedroom window which emanates music each night and the fantastical things he finds within, it’s atmospheric, it’s mysterious, and it captures a little bit of that exotic Oriental something that I find so often reading Chinese stories but so rarely in Western stories of the same intent.  Thus when a copy of Parks’ novel Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate (2014, Diamond Book Distributors) came my way, it was difficult to refuse.

Lacking the subtlety and mood of “Cherry Blossoms on the River of Souls”, To Break the Demon Gate is more a straightforward samurai drama of the fantastic.  Intent on Japanese history and swordfights, demons and ghosts, and court intrigue, it mixes mystery, action, and tropes familiar from other genres to create a lean, vigorous story.  The main character a minor lord caught up in a series of seemingly impossible murders, his penchant for drink has him nodding to detectives of noir while wielding a katana in classic samurai style, killing the ghosts and demons that threaten to spin Japan’s highest regal court out of order.

Review of Moving Mars by Greg Bear

It is myth; it is legend; it is part of the fabric of the culture.  Every schoolboy and girl in the US knows the story of the Pilgrims, how they were oppressed in their native land and came to a new world to practice their beliefs in freedom. Ahh, America.  Among the first Europeans to settle in the West, this historical event is commonly viewed as a seminal moment in US history.  As a result, similar stories have come to be prized by the culture: good ol’ American fighting spirit and can-do will win the way when one desires to live a certain way or practice a particular political ideal.  Taking the myth/legend to the next planet outward in the solar system, in 1994 Greg Bear penned Moving Mars.  Nominated for every major American science fiction award (and winning once), it’s fair to say the cultural mindset continues to reinforce itself.

Moving Mars is the story of Casseia Majumdar, university student and daughter of one of Mars' oldest families.  Called Binding Multiples, blood relations are not necessarily the common denominator to the big communities.  The BMs’ mixing corporate and genealogical ideals into ‘bloodlines’, their clannish presence is as far as Mars’ governance has evolved since humanity first settled the planet.  Growing up ‘red rabbit’, Casseia lives in the tunnels of Mars along with five million others, getting a university education, and living as normal a life as Martian underground conditions allow for.  In comparison to Earth, this is rather limited.  Technology is available but always a few upgrades behind, and in limited supply.  And while people are free to mix as they please, Martian society remains more provincial in its customs and traditions.  Following on a love affair after university, Casseia is selected by her BM for an amazing honor: to accompany a relative to Earth for political negotiations.  What she sees and experiences there forever changing her worldview, little does she know it is her knowledge Mars will be drastically changed by in the future.