Review of "Voodoo Planet" by Andre Norton

Third in the Solar Queen series, “Voodoo Planet” sees the crew of the space freighter back at square one after having been cheated out of their trading grounds in Plague Ship.  Deregulated and facing the prospect of performing lowly mail runs to rebuild their place in the merchant fleet, when a rare opportunity presents itself on the planet Khatka, Captain Jellico, Dane Thorsen, Tau and the others are only too eager to accept.  Khatka colonized by people from Africa, the inhabitants are said to possess a kind of magic impervious to science and technology, and while out on a hunting safari the crew of the Solar Queen meet first-hand the wizard Lumbrilo.  But with wild creatures attacking from all sides and psychedelics whirling in the dense jungle, they begin to wish they’d stuck to mail.

“Voodoo Planet” is perfunctory planetary adventure.  Norton inverts the race hierarchy of Africa by having blacks rule Khatka, whites on the bottom rung, but nothing is done with the idea.  The focus suspense and adventure, the crew of the Solar Queen find themselves perpetually fleeing for survival. If it isn’t the chemicals in the water, then it’s the animals attacking in the night, and if poachers don’t want them out of their hunting ground, then their old rivals are working behind the scenes to see they are finished once and for all.

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 Stars My Destination" by Alfred Bester

Alfred Bester cut his teeth on the comic book floor.  But after gaining a degree of success writing for the likes of Superman, Green Lantern, and The Phantom, he tried his hand at novel form.  His first attempt in 1953, The Demolished Man, was well received and won awards, leading him to write several more, including Tiger! Tiger! in 1956.  (For reasons known, it would also be named The Burning Spear, and later for reasons unknown, The Stars My Destination, which is the name it is currently best known by.)  The speed of action, plot devices, and visual qualities of the book all stemming from Bester’s early career, The Stars My Destination’s foundational elements are nevertheless something more mature, the morals and message anything but black and white, blip or blam.

Not of the overtly simplistic variety, the ethical compass of The Stars My Destination bears more in common with The Watchmen, The Punisher, or Christopher Nolan’s recent film adaptations of Batman than the raw good and evil commonly associated with the likes of Spiderman and Superman.  The moral viewpoints of Bester’s futuristic universe not readily identifiable, the hero is, in fact, an anti-hero.  

Gully Foyle, indolent and dull-witted, is a space mechanic third class, waiting for rescue while stranded in a ship floating in space.  When would-be rescuers in the Vorga intentionally ignore his rescue flares, Foyle swears revenge on the crew, filthy revenge.  The desire for vengeance shaking him from the doldrums of existence, every molecule of Foyle’s brain thereafter comes afire in an attempt to escape the stranded vessel and wreak havoc on the Vorga.  The path Foyle subsequently burns across the universe make him participant to events he could not have imagined.  From the tiger tattooing on his face to suddenly holding the fate of Earth in his hand, the story unfolds in a fashion no reader can predict.  

Numerous reviews have deemed The Stars My Destination a sci-fi analog to Dumas’ classic tale of revenge, The Count of Monte Christo.  The similarity superficial, little resembles the other upon deeper investigation.  Yes, revenge is a strong motif in Stars, but it is not the driving force of the novel.  Likewise, Foyle’s path of vengeance may echo the Count’s step-by-step, but only in the first half.  The second spins him in a new direction, the stakes moved beyond simple killing.  Lastly, Dumas never casts the Count’s motives into doubt; his actions are portrayed as morally justifiable throughout.  Bester, on the other hand, slowly uncovers a larger ethical picture, in turn clouding Foyle’s logic of revenge and rendering a more engaging story in the process.  For a more straight-forward sci-fi parallel to Dumas’ classic, try Jack Vance’s The Demon Princes.  As for Bester’s book, better analogies are available.

If Philip K. Dick ever wrote a graphic novel, it would have been The Stars My Destination.  The telepaths, synesthesia, teleportation (called ‘jaunting’ by Bester), character focus over detailed technology, relatively bleak view of future society, not to mention the slippery nature of Foyle’s reality, all speak to Dick’s favorite motifs.  Bester a better writer stylistically, the comic book aspects he adds include vigorous dialogue, brisk pacing, loose but effective scene setting, and perhaps most tellingly, a certain skill Foyle acquires late in the novel.  The dark mood hanging over the story and Foyle’s immoral behavior push the analogy into graphic novel status.

In the end, The Stars My Destination is a unique work that has aged well in the half-century since its publication.  While written in the Golden Era spirit of sci-fi, it nevertheless contains numerous elements that defy a clean, sterile vision of the future.  Basic plot, imagery, and frenetic narrative pacing in line with graphic novel presentation, there remain aspects to the story and character development that are darker and more mature in style, particularly regarding the motivation to live, dissemination of knowledge, and humanity’s potential.  Foyle far from a superhero, his actions are base at best, and give the story an edge that later writers like William Gibson and Bruce Sterling would latch onto when imagining the future.  Opposite the spiffy-clean version of Clarke’s future, Stars does not portray mankind in all its glory, just like its protagonist may be the world’s hero or its demise.

As a side note, the introduction by Neil Gaiman to the 2005 printing--pictured above--is so terrible it deserves mention.  Utterly the most pretentious load of crap any writer has ever produced in an attempt to pay homage to a book they admire, it seems Gaiman feels he can write anything and get away with it.  Not hyperbole, it is an unfocused, jarring, half-finished, hack effort lacking cognition that thankfully ends after a few paragraphs.  Skip it if you want to start the novel on the right foot.)

Review of "A Fall of Moondust" by Arthur C. Clarke

Standing at night, looking up at the glowing white face of the moon, we might ask: what is it comprised of?  We’ve all seen the lunar landing videos, the dusty, desiccated soil that holds the impression of boots and tires so well, but what does it feel like?  How does the stuff behave?  Like sand?  Talcum powder?  Is it powdery like sugar, or fluid like in an hourglass?  In 1961 when mankind had yet to set foot on the moon, those impressions were left in a substance that existed in the imagination, only.  Writing A Fall of Moondust that year, Arthur C. Clarke speculated just what that surface might be like, and in the process wrote a sci-fi thriller rooted in scientific ideology.  Not earthshaking, the novel is nonetheless a solid read for fans of the genre.

In keeping with Clarke’s preference for stories that highlight humanity’s diminutive size compared to the exigencies of the universe, A Fall of Moondust is novel about a group needing rescue after becoming trapped in a sea of moon dust.  Using the tropes of science-fiction – with strong emphasis on “science” – the book tells of the hovercraft Selene and one of its moon cruises that doesn’t go according to plan.  Not exceptionally technical in its discourse, Clarke’s everyday-Joe heroes nevertheless uphold scientific virtue in extricating the trapped people, simultaneously rationalizing and promulgating the suspense.

No space monsters or barrage of mutant asteroids, A Fall of Moondust is simply man vs. the elements.  The team of protagonists set about overcoming the unique limitations imposed by the lunar environment in systematic fashion.  Theoretical knowledge of utmost value if the trapped group is to be rescued, most methods and tools that work on earth are unthinkable on the moon, its gravity and atmosphere posing unnatural obstacles for the engineering mind to circumvent.  And so while Clarke is able to keep plot lines taught, it is the methodology to the rescue which proves the book’s main draw. 

Average build, clean shaven, plaid shirts, and an unfailing belief in the scientific method characterize Clarke’s “heroes” in A Fall of Moondust.  Lawrence is an engineer with an unfailing eye for weeding out solutions relying too heavily on impracticalities.  Lawson, a young astronomer fueled by his belief in scientific observations, challenges the status quo when presenting his objective evidence to the world.  And lastly Pat, the captain of the Selene, is a phlegmatic but resourceful man, not given to losing his cool in moments of fear because of his trust in the material workings of his craft.  Though these characters are obviously conjured to suit the plot, Clarke blunts the edge enough to pass them off as real humans.  Dialogue not so wooden as to make the story unreadable, there is even time for a touch of romance and detective work.

In the end, A Fall of Moondust is a competently written, consistently plotted thriller rooted in physical reality despite having the moon as its setting.  Like other 'mission impossible' type stories, Clarke sets an interesting challenge for himself and his protagonists with the trapped ship, proving it’s the journey not the destination that’s worthwhile.  A paean to science, readers can also expect the glories of objective inquiry and theoretical knowledge regarding chemistry, physics, and astronomy to appear and reappear.  Written at a time when scientific ideology was not yet taken for granted by society, none of the darker, grittier sides of humanity surface.  Unlike the works of later writers, such as Gibson, McDonald, or Banks, Clarke presents the cleaner, more traditional side of sci-fi (read: idyllic), science shining golden to solve all society’s problems.  And so, while the premise of A Fall of Moondust may seem dated due to the knowledge we later acquired of the moon, the story itself remains a compact and easy read.  Not Clarke’s best, it’s at least short, sweet, and interesting to those curious to see physics at work on the moon.

Review of "Galactic North" by Alastair Reynolds

The front cover of Alastair Reynolds 2006 Galactic North boldly declares the author to be “A master singer of the space opera.”  Cracking it open and discovering ships battling in the black of space, futuristic technology and weaponry, and intercultural politics and prejudices progressing in good and evil fashion, the book does indeed seem to personify the sub-genre.  Galactic North is a collection of short stories, many of which fill gaps in the Revelation Space mythos.  Like many short story collections, however, quality is uneven.  Also, despite that several of the stories do stand alone, the collection is best appreciated with a familiarity of Reynold’s created universe.

“Great Wall of Mars” – Revealing the origins of a certain story in Revelation Space, Clavain’s diplomatic mission to Mars does not turn out as planned.  Metallic versions of Herbert’s sandworms, terraforming, and brotherly enmity appear to disjoint his hopes.  For those who haven’t read the RS series, the story reads in forced fashion, one event clamoring over another just to fill gaps.

“Glacial” – Another Revelation Space story, this one, however, can stand alone.  Unfortunately, it’s legs are weak.  Clavain and crew encounter an abandoned base on one of Jupiter’s moons where all the personnel are murdered, except one.  In explaining why only one survived, Reynolds attempts to build a profound morale dilemma.  But by resolving it simplistically - in consequentialist (pragmatist) vs. inconsequentialist (relativist) fashion - expect not to be enlightened.

“A Spy in Europa” – Perhaps the weakest in the collection, this story could have been lifted from the pulp magazines of the 50s and 60s with none the wiser.  Part undercover ops, part alien thriller, none of the plot milestones develop realistically.  Clashing with the previous story’s moralizing, death in this story takes on no meaning.  Magazine pulp, no more, no less.

“Weather” – Moving from the worst to perhaps the best of the collection, this story sees Reynolds finding form.  The characters act like real people, the conflicts are human – or at least as human as they can be with a Conjoiner involved – and theme is well developed.  The story has impact and proves that sci-fi is one of the best genres for discussions on cultural prejudice.  Though set in Revelation Space, this story works independently and can be enjoyed as such.

“Dilation Sleep” – A non-Revelation Space story (and one of the first Reynolds ever had published), this and the previous story vie for best of the collection.  “Dilation Sleep” tells of a man woken from cryogenic sleep and the weird, dreamlike experience that results.  Featuring great descriptions of biotechnology in a human environment, this story is highly reminiscent of Dick and Gibson.

“Grafenwalder’s Bestiary” – As the title implies, the main character is a creature collector, the more exotic the better.  A commentary on animal rights and respecting the rights of all living things, Reynolds leaves nothing to the imagination, literally and figuratively, in driving home his point.  (Not directly a Revelation Space story.)

“Nightingale” - The story’s name is derived from the hospital ship a handpicked crew of ex-soldiers are contracted to extract a wanted man from.  Weirder things happening with each step deeper into the abandoned ship, the slosh of cloned organs and tissue samples they encounter along the way are peanuts compared to what awaits them in the last room.  Highly reminiscent of Neal Asher’s works, this story can be read independently.

“Galactic North” – Abandoning the linear, straightforward style used to this point, the eponymous story attempts to create a time-lapsed mythology of Irravel and Markarian, as well as establish the origins of Remontoire.  Unable to be enjoyed without a knowledge of Revelation Space, this story is uneven and feels like filler otherwise.

Reynolds’ weaknesses continue to play themselves out in Galactic North.  Problems include: overhanded moralizing, readers being lead by the hand through the plot one baby step at a time, dialogue serving plot only, moral buttons being fat and obvious (sadism, justifiable revenge, irrevocably evil bad guys, etc.), plot developments being telegraphed, and political alliances that are black or white.  However, like a tech-ier version of Star Wars, there are some great pieces of imagination tucked away in this collection, as well as in Revelation Space as a whole.  Reynolds’ literary aspirations may not climb high, but he certainly delivers when it comes to pulp storytelling, wonderful gadgetry, and the possibilities of space and technology.  Further commendation should be given him for his inclusion of environmental, social, biological, and other scientific issues as background elements.  Fans of Peter Hamilton, Richard Morgan, Iain M. Banks, and Neal Asher will absolutely enjoy Reynolds’ work, but I would recommend Galactic North only to those up to speed on their Revelation Space storylines.