Review of Pelquin's Comet by Ian Whates

One of the significant differences between science fiction and realist fiction is the sense that the possibilities of sf are so much grander.  Genre writers taking advantage of the four dimensions as a playground for fiction in a variety of ways, from the temporal extents of Olaf Stapledon’s works to the microworlds of Madeline D’Engle, no sub-genre, however, may utilize the possibilities more than space opera.  Arguably the core of science fiction, it’s been in existence almost since the beginning, and there are no signs of its disappearance anytime soon.  Carrying the torch in the 21 st century is Ian Whates’ Pelquin’s Comet (2015, NewCon Press).

Knowing that a major stash of alien artifacts lies unclaimed, Pelquin, Captain of the freebooter Pelquin’s Comet, heads to the major financial center of New Sparta to find a sponsor in order to make a run at the loot.  An Elder artifact in hand, he succeeds in convincing one of the credit officers to extend a line of cash his way, but not without a compromise.  Forced to take on a representative of the bank (the mysterious alien toting Drake), Pelquin reluctantly agrees to the terms and sets his small crew to gearing up the ship for the trip.  Exiting New Sparta, however, a surprise attack occurs.  With projectiles flying the Comet gets off the ground, but not without its chief mechanic Monkey getting badly injured.  And he’s needed.  The jump into RzSpace going smoothly, once inside the other dimension, however, a problem occurs with the motors, an emergency landing needed.  Babylon the closest planet, it’s there the Comet heads and the Captain’s plans for an easy loot grab really start to spiral out of control.

Review of Sixty Days and Counting by Kim Stanley Robinson

While there remain differences, I have come to think of Kim Stanley Robinson as the contemporary Arthur C. Clarke.  More diverse in the inclusion of science, writing lengthier novels, and more obviously Californian than British, Robinson nevertheless approaches the problems of humanity with the same optimism, lenience towards Eastern religions, practically and realistically conceived science fiction concepts, and underlying belief science can bring society to a higher plane of existence.  In short, they are very similar in spirit, and Sixty Days and Counting (2007), the third and final book capping Robinson’s Science in the Capital series, is glaring proof.

The conclusion of Fifty Degrees Below, the second book in the series, saw Frank Vanderwaal caught up in a fracas with a black ops intelligence team that had apparently been involved in a plot to alter presidential voting.  The election going off smoothly despite their intentions, Senator Phil Chase was elected and has chosen Diane, Frank’s boss at the National Science Foundation, to head his science group, in turn bringing Frank even closer to the executive level of science in government.  Chase the most open minded politician ever to sit the White House, a whole world of possibility reveals itself to Frank and Diane, who immediately set about investigating big-scale schemes that might mitigate ongoing climate change issues.  Their massive salt operation having changed the jet stream in Fifty Degrees Below, they now look at ways to get the polar ice caps back into good condition and the ocean levels lower such that the radical changes in weather patterns can be brought back within normal ranges and frequencies.  And the need is pressing.  From the depths of a freezing winter, record setting temperatures are predicted for D.C. in the summer.

Review of The Prince of Nothing Trilogy by R. Scott Bakker

Take the philosophical concept of the original Dune trilogy, sprinkle in some basic plot devices from The Lord of the Rings, and mix with a coherent system of magic, a handful of strong lead characters shaded in gray, wholly original races, cultures, and setting, and voila, you will have R. Scott Bakker’s Prince of Nothing series.  A lucid concoction, the trilogy holds no punches, leaving the reader wide-eyed for its brutal adherence to the realities of pre-industrial life.  No fuzzy hobbits picking flowers and discussing what variety of pipe tobacco they prefer, instead, Machiavellian scheming, ever-inflating egos, and pushes, risks, and clashes to obtain power are unveiled as ugly truths.  Underrated, the Prince of Nothing is one of the best epic fantasy series available today. 

Due to the immense scope of Bakker’s world, the series starts slow.  The turns of plot are measured in their reveal, and the scenes set with a view to the whole rather than being simple info dumps.  With patience, as storylines and character arcs build - from the groundwork of The Darkness that Comes Before, the bridge of The Warrior Prophet, to the final showdown of The Thousandfold Thought - readers gain a full understanding of the people, interests, and conditions of Bakker’s Earwa.  Schools and temples of magic war with another below the surface while kings and warriors duke it out for all to see, and all are unsure about the warrior-monk Kellhus's potential.

For those tired of fantasy authors stringing readers along with excellent plot build up only to close the series in a dissatisfying 25 pages, fear not; Bakker delivers.  The ending of the trilogy is conclusive and, most importantly, more grandiose than what one hopes it will be.  Heightening the climax is the involvement and transitory feelings one experiences in their regard for the main characters.  From loved to hated, loathed to pitied, the strong characterization likewise deserves notice for its integration with story.  Much rumination invested in making sure the puzzle pieces fit snugly together (Bakker has taken years to write the series), this is not just another fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants fantasy series out to cash in on the current market.

Regarding character depiction, many reviewers have been critical of Bakker’s treatment of women.  And, I can understand the view, particularly in today's cultural climate.  It can be said that Bakker was trying to remain true to the times, and ok.  I would simply say that if the poor treatment of women offends you, do not read the series.  There are much worse authors out there, but whether you agree with his view or not, he at least has an agenda behind said scenes.  That for others will be worth hearing out.

The dialogue attentive, action paced constructively, and setting and the main characters having depth, these factors move The Prince of Nothing to vie with the other major works of epic fantasy on the market today.  Pushing it near the top is the focus with which Bakker writes.  From the first page onward, planning and structure are obvious, events falling naturally into place as character motivation dictates, and in turn, allowing the themes of power, paranoia, and virtue to rise to the surface.  Unlike Erikson, who perhaps conceals too much from the reader, or Jordan, who divulges too much, Bakker balances on the tightrope wonderfully, revealing his world in just enough chunks to pull the reader along, while at the same time expressing his literary objectives in a non-proselytizing fashion.  Though reviews of the series are divisive, for scope and content The Prince of Nothing truly deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as Erikson and Martin as the masters of modern fantasy.  

Review of The Lyonesse Trilogy by Jack Vance

Those familiar with Vance’s work know that his style is unrivalled.  So unique, anyone who attempted to imitate his voicing or phrasing would immediately be called out by the fantasy community, unable to show their face again.  The Lyonesse trilogy is one of these works which, along with Tales of the Dying Earth, Planet of Adventure, and The Demon Princes series, lay the foundation for fantasy literature’s most unique voice.  That Vance backs up his style with a most enjoyable, adventuresome tale sets the eyes glassy with joy. 

Fantasy in perhaps its purest form, the Lyonesse trilogy is Arthurian legend through the prism of Merlin's crystal ball. With princes and princesses, trolls and fairies abound, the reader quickly grabs hold of Vance's archetypes and is taken for a ride by his innate ability to spin a yarn.  The first book, called "Suldrun’s Garden” by most fans, sets the scene of the medieval Elder Isles and the various rivalries for power occurring among the kingdoms.  The second book, The Green Pearl, advances the storyline of the protagonist, Alias, as a wise ruler seeking to unite the Isle to once and for all in the name of peace, while simultaneously coloring the inimitable Murgen, Vance’s Merlin figure.  The final book, Maduoc, along with winning the World Fantasy Award, ties together the multitude of threads Vance has woven in the previous two books in a most satisfactory fashion, the ending truly Arthurian for Alias’s estranged daughter and those living in the Elder Isles.  

Never quite taking himself seriously, Vance goes about writing the trilogy in his usual jocular, overly-formal, and utterly humorous style that certainly takes some getting used to by the uninitiated.  When one comes to the realization that all they need do is relax and let the story flow, the delight that is Vance comes springing into the imagination, wizards and spells, potions and magic mirrors never being so much fun.  Though the tongue-in-cheek style does detract from the seriousness of several character outcomes, the sheer joy of truly never knowing where Vance’s imagination will take the reader next is worth the read, and for that the series comes recommended.  In fact, any true lover of zany adventure and imagination need check this out, or any other of Vance’s works.

Review of The Godless World trilogy by Brian Ruckley

Tragedy in the theater sense of the word, Ruckley’s Godless World trilogy is a supple blending of epic fantasy and The Iliad.  Set in an imaginary land highly reminiscent of the author's native Scotland, the trilogy offers oily smooth prose, well developed characters with human interests, and a solemn sense of drama.  There are no quests for jade bracelets or scepters that will buy a kingdom.  There are no wizards with lightning shooting from their fingertips.  There are no demons leaping from the bushes in ambush.  This is a human story of war akin to historical fiction, the fantasy blunted to let character interaction and emotion shine through, and for that, Ruckley should be lauded.

Winter is settling in as the story begins and the stark aura it casts over the lords, their ancient feuds, and the fight for survival that ensues remains throughout the series, the snow thickening.  Obviously conscious of the sword and sorcery genre and its variety of pitfalls, Ruckley focuses the narrative on the characters and their personal struggles in a world at war – and all are human, not an undefeatable hero among them.   Elements of fantasy do exist and are irreplaceable to the plot, but as a whole the books read like historical fiction; individuals develop and adjust to the inevitable tragedy of war where the quest for power and revenge leads.