One of only a handful, Spider and Jeanne Robinson’s 1979 novella Stardance accomplished the rare feat of sweeping the major American science fiction awards. The quality of these awards contentious, the story appears to fit perfectly in the middle of the other novellas receiving such recognition. Founded on a strong, poignant premise and escalating into the goofily absurd, the story has something for all fans of science fiction, and as a result resides on the fence of quality.
Stardance is the story of
Charlie Armstead, a former dancer who was forced to become a cameraman after an
accident left one of his legs permanently injured. A colleague introducing him to a new dancer
named Chara one day, Armstead quickly dismisses the woman based on her size and
build. Seeing Chara dance, however,
ideas begin to form in his head of how he might be able to capitalize on her
unique talent for both their benefit.
Striking out together to attempt modern dance in a fashion never before
presented, Armstead places his future in the hands of Chara and his camera work. Where the choice takes them is out of this
world and into a venue never before having seen dance, and, a few other
squiggly things.
For
those familiar with modern and post-modern dance, Stardance will strike a chord.
(If unfamiliar, Wim Wenders’ brilliant documentary Piña comes highly recommended as an introduction to post-modern and
free-form dance.) The Robinsons
obviously familiar, they wholly incorporate the art into the story—on Earth and
in space. Zero-g dancing an intriguing
idea for dance enthusiasts, the writers would seem to capitalize admirably on
the premise; the dance routines are described in highly evocative and well-set
terms.
Where
Stardance falls apart, however, is
with its inclusion of ‘squids in space’.
The storyline working beautifully until extra-terrestrial interests
manifest, an overwhelming odor of cheese takes over the last fifth of the
story—an abrupt right turn from the penthouse of New Age the novella had been
riding into the slums of pulp sci-fi.
Undermining the wholly human story built to that point, the ‘punchline’
of the theme (as evinced in the novella’s closing sentence) could have been
handled to far better effect. The aliens
only twisting the story into incredulity rather than allowing the human
interest to fully blossom, they feel redundant; Chara’s plight alone is enough
to make the same point. But as it
stands, the elements introduced distance the story from reality, pushing
matters into mush entertainment and away from human interest.
In
the end, Stardance is a novella which
smears its own superb potential by taking the conclusion one step—leap, in fact—too
far. Armstead literally pulling a
snowball from his refrigerator early in the story to manifest the idiom of “a
snowball’s chance in hell”, I suppose the cheesiness of the conclusion was
telegraphed. The quality prose,
humanism, and dance effects related in proper fashion, if one is to truly enjoy
the story they should focus on these elements and ignore the ending. Otherwise, Margaret Atwood is right…
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