Geoffrey Landis is an author who has built an oeuvre one novel shy of being entirely
short fiction. Operating predominantly
in retro mode, his stories are conventional adventures and thrillers
reminiscent of the Golden and Silver Age with a hard sci-fi idea or two thrown
to found the mix. His first ever
published work, 1984’s “Elemental”, is a cheap opening act. Eminently quotable for all the wrong reasons,
this bit of pulp is best left in the bargain bin.
For those
with low expectations, the novelette is easy to engage with; Landis makes no
assumptions on reader intelligence (i.e. everything is spoon fed, right down to
the speech tags), nor does he attempt a story with any sort of relevancy. Check the following explanation of the
magic/science system.
Modern thaumaturgy-usually simply called
"magic"-was the logical outgrowth of quantum field theory. The basic
premise of thaumaturgy is that "reality" is merely an abstract
mathematical construct. Therefore, it can be controlled by the manipulation of
abstract symbols-provided that the correct symbols can be chosen. The snow ward
which Ramsey took for granted was only one of many changes wrought by the
consequent technology.
For more
sophisticated readers, “Elemental” is a continual battle in overcoming
mainstream tropes, naïve prose, and at times pure silliness. Cheesy science-fantasy the outlay, readers
will have to plow through pentagrams, spells, and other wizardly effects while
reading a story that uses space ships and interplanetary adventure as its main
tropes. In the hands of a writer like
Jack Vance, this combination might work.
But Landis aims for the obvious.
Rather than trying to couch the ideas in a mood or mode all of its own,
the widest possible audience is presented to, in turn diminishing any chance at
uniqueness.
Style is
thus the largest obstacle to overcome in “Elemental”. The following is a sample of dialogue between
two flirting characters:
"That can be
arranged. But what would you need a love potion for, though?" She looked
at him coyly.
He missed her
look, or else ignored it. "Oh . . . I'm sure 1 could find some use for
one."
"It turns out
that you can't actually make a love potion. Love isn't something you can turn
on and off." She sighed. "Unfortunately."
She looked up at
him. "But sex, now . . . that's something simple, and relatively well
understood."
Ramsey laughed.
"Well understood? It darn well ought to be, considering all the time people
spend thinking about it."
"Oh, Ramsey,
you're impossible," she said. "Won't you let me keep any dignity at
all?"
Ramsey laughed:
"Sorry," he said. He walked over and cradled her face in his palms.
Then he kissed her.
"That's more
like it," she said.
For people
reading this review who see no problems with that quote, “Elemental” may be an
enjoyable read. The rest, well, the
words speak for themselves; it’s like the script of a 1950s sit-com rehashed
for 1984.
In the
end, “Elemental” is cheesy science fiction that asks nothing of the reader save
suspending any standards of quality they might have for what constitutes
literature with purpose. E.E. "Doc" Smith
and other such writers of the pulp and Golden era are thus firm company, and
readers who enjoy such stories may enjoy Landis’, as well.
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