Review of "Hyperion" by Dan Simmons

There is space opera, and then there is Space Opera.  Dan Simmon’s 1989 Hyperion is S.P.A.C.E. O.P.E.R.A.  From grand schemes to the most minute of details, vivid character portrayal to imaginative and original future technology, gorgeous scenery to a multi-dimensional, motivated plot, everything works.  Weaving his tale, Simmons proves a master storyteller, each of the seven tableaus presented begging to be devoured.  As a result, it is virtually impossible to read Hyperion and not want to follow up with the sequel, The Fall of Hyperion.  Thus, potential buyers be warned: this is only the first half of a highly engaging story.

Hyperion’s success begins with world building.  Simmons put hours and hours of thought and planning into the background details of his universe and how these elements work together.  Fully functioning political, technological, and social systems, none of the superb far-future government structures, technologies, or sentients clash with one another—in a logical sense; there are wars and tension galore.  The tech not functioning cart blanche, Simmons took the time to think of how the various futuristic elements affect and offset one another, the result being a world portrayed more realistically.  Secondly, all of the created technologies serve a purpose.  There are no one-offs thrown in to impress the reader or because it felt good that moment tapping away on the keyboard.  Thirdly, and most impressive, is that Simmons is able to infuse the description and importance of all the futuristic motifs into dialogue and plot.  There are no blatant info-dumps—a plague of sci-fi.  Every element is revealed naturally in the flow of story.  From the post-human humans to inter-planetary communication, space travel to AI—especially the AI, Simmons worked out all of the details before setting out along storytelling road and the book does nothing but benefit for it.

If world building is the foundation of Hyperion, then storytelling is the palace atop it.  Other writers, including Iain Banks, Richard Morgan, and Alastair Reynolds, have stated their dreams of producing such an imaginatively singular yet archetypal story—their imaginations alone nothing to frown at.  Borrowing the structure of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, Hyperion is a frame story broken into seven basic pieces: one for each of the pilgrims traveling to Shrike temple on the titular planet.  One by one, each pilgrim tells the story of how they came to the pilgrimage and their reasons for undertaking the potentially deadly journey.  Simmons uses the interstitial space of the individual narratives to describe segments of their collective journey to the temple.  Needing to be read to be believed, the ex-army general, poet, priest, detective, teacher, forest guardian, and diplomat all have the most amazing tales to tell.

And there’s a story for all interests.  Readers who enjoy the action/tech side of sci-fi will revel in the ex-general’s account, the space fights jaw-dropping.  Neuromancer fans will thoroughly love the cyberpunk homage Simmons pays to Gibson in the detective’s tale, complete with cyberspace and console cowboys.  Dick fans will nod their heads in appreciation of the priest and poet whose happenings are most spiritual and also most surreal, while fans of Le Guin or Aldiss will be satisfied by the sensitive yet alluring histories of the diplomat and teacher.  Save the detective’s tale—an acknowledged homage—the voice is Simmons’ own.  The stories, particularly the meta-story tying the characters’ lives together, are anything but derivative and prove sci-fi a powerful medium for storytelling.  

And what of the enigmatic Shrike temple where the pilgrims are headed?  The name taken from a real-life desert bird that impales insects on cacti spines prior to dining on them, the impossible-to-describe temple guardian named simply the Shrike is the most mysterious and fascinating idea Simmons has carefully laid into his story.  Appearing and re-appearing randomly, groups who visit the temple take their lives into their hands; only one member lives to tell about the visit, the remainder never to be seen again.  Killing at will, the Shrike is simply one of sci-fi’s greatest creations, its black, spiky visage haunting readers long after they’ve finished the novel. 

If the depth of imagination and storytelling or borrowing of Chaucer's framing device are not enough, then Simmons’ thematic grounding of the tale in the poetry of Keats will satisfy those looking for literary qualities.  Not a lengthy testament to the British poet, Simmons instead uses the eponymous poem by Keats as an allegory for the tension between sentient species and artificial intelligences.  Not blatantly a Star Wars, good vs. evil, situation, the scene set pits uber-intelligent AI constructs against the technically advanced beings inhabiting the universe, each fighting for autonomy.  Like the Greek gods warring with the Titans, this aspect of the novel puts the “opera” after “space”.

In the end, Hyperion is one of the best science-fiction books ever written, a real treat for the imagination.  The imagery, characters, underlying themes, narrative structure, storytelling, and flat out entertainment value leave 99% of sci-fi in the dust. The only fault is that readers must wait until the second half, The Fall of Hyperion, to discover the fate of the pilgrims.  A wholly unique creation, it’s difficult to compare Hyperion to any other author’s works, save the rough comparison of the individual pilgrims’ tales themselves.  Hyperion.  Read it.  The book will be remembered.

Review of "The Fall of Hyperion" by Dan Simmons

Simmons having carefully woven each strand in Hyperion, The Fall of Hyperion braids them together into a singular narrative that fantastically concludes the tale.  Whip-crackling energy throughout, the fate of the Hegemony, Ousters, and the Shrike are revealed.  All of the questions created—what will happen to Sol’s daughter?  Will Kassad get his revenge on the Shrike?  Will the Consul be able to open the time tombs?  And ultimately, what is the Shrike?—are answered in more than satisfying fashion.  Moreover, the mysterious disappearance of the tree-ship captain, Het Masteen, is not only explained, but fits perfectly within the framework of Hyperion to affect things as no reader could foresee.  With this and other details, Simmons shows the subtlety of his story’s design, and proves himself a master storyteller at work.

The narrative structure of Hyperion would be possible to duplicate in the sequel only if there were to be no resolve of the pilgrims’ stories.  All having converged at the time tombs, The Fall of Hyperion is where the rubber hits the road—a single road.  Told from two settings, one the galactic center at Tau Ceti and the other the tombs, the fate of the universe is finally decided.  Readers bounce back and forth between the two locations, learning the pilgrim’s fates on one hand and how the Hegemony is preparing for the imminent Ouster invasion on the other.  Action and plot non-stop, Simmons never takes his foot off the gas the length of the novel, driving the story all the way to a heart pounding climax that satisfies all of the build up of Hyperion. 

The players established and positions known, The Fall of Hyperion works within the parameters of Hyperion to conclude the story.  Save a second version of the android Keats (named Severn), Simmons avoids a major weak point of storytelling by springing nothing new—game changers or plot altering surprises—on readers.  There are no new overlords or super-weapons to step in and change the rules or extend the limits of possibility.  Everything fits perfectly within the playing space delimited in the first novel, and move by move, each piece works its way toward a showdown of colossal proportions—human, Ouster, AI, Shrike, and otherwise.

Hyperion such powerful storytelling, it’s unfortunate that The Fall of Hyperion must stand aside and be judged.  Like a meeting of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, everyone considers one better than the other, though both are mammoth.  Were it not for one’s brilliance, the other would be considered mightiest.  As such, the recent publication of the Hyperion omnibus editions is welcome.  The story able to be read from start to finish as Simmons envisioned it, readers do not feel such a sharp transition between the two halves, the need for comparison eliminated.  

Hyperion such a tour de force, most readers will find something amiss in The Fall of Hyperion, though they know not what.  The answer is: the end of the story.  With such a vast number of creative elements at play and interest generated in the characters and story, nobody wants the enjoyment to end.  However, it must, and Simmons finishes the tale in suitably epic fashion.  The good news is, the author also recognized the wealth of possibilities available and wrote a second duology in the Hyperion universe, Endymion and The Rise of Endymion.  

In the end, The Fall of Hyperion is a grand finale built on the solid foundation of  Hyperion.  The only disappointment readers could feel would be that the story comes to an end.  Epic in nature and epic in feel, Simmons has set a very high bar for sci-fi.  Readers who enjoy Iain Banks or Peter Hamilton but have not read the Hyperion Cantos will find upon reading it that many ideas are in common, particularly the scope of their universes, love of interesting tech, and the possibilities of far future.  Despite having source material of its own, Hyperion is the inspiration of space opera in the 21st century and beyond.

Review of "Hardcase" by Dan Simmons

Readers of Dan Simmons have been spoiled by his numerous great works: the Hyperion Cantos, Song of Kali, and The Terror, for example, selling well around the world and in many languages.  Hardcase, unfortunately, finds the author returning to earth from the heights of this success.  The book is run of the mill action –  well told, but still average.

Before buying the book, I noted that many reviewers enjoyed Simmons’ delving into detective noir to tell the story of hardened private eye Joe Kurtz, solving a mystery while just trying to stay alive, killers on his trail.  Having now read the book, I’m at a loss to see where the spirit of Raymond Chandler can be seen glowing in the text.  Certainly some of the elements speak to the noir genre – Kurtz’s office below a porno shop, his moral position outside the law but fighting for justice, the colorful thugs and assassins giving chase to name a few.  But sadly, the overall feel was more like Lethal Weapon than Chinatown.  Hood gangsters, drugs and guns, and mafia princesses were in fact the plot devices which moved the storyline.

As Simmons is such a great stylist, it was a bit of a disappointment not to read of dark alleys and cigarette smoke, red lipstick and .44 magnums emerging from trenchcoats, the echoes crashing through the pouring rain.  I expected something more artistic than the blase action story I was presented with.  Simmons’ usual storytelling bravado and vivid descriptions are present, but it just wasn’t enough to deepen the story.  If P.I. stories with smooth prose are your gig, by all means have a a go.  Otherwise, nothing special here.

(This review has also been posted at www.fantasyliterature.com)

Review of "The Terror" by Dan Simmons

The Terror is based on the British vessels HMS Erebrus and HMS Terror and their voyage to discover a northwest passage in the 19th century.  Using their unknown fate as a literary springboard, Simmons freely fills the gap in history as his imagination allows, and in the process has created a work of historical fiction that transcends genre.  Classified horror due to one of its plot devices, the novel is in fact much deeper in scope.  On the surface it is the story of the two ships and their crews’ attempts to survive, frozen in the ice for more than two years, but at another level, it is an examination of the hubris of humanity and its attempts to defy nature.  

Reining himself in from the vivid descriptions and vibrant storytelling of the Hyperion Cantos or Joe Kurtz novels, Simmons’ imagery of a frozen wasteland in The Terror require a tone more subtle and melancholy; the setting of two ships trapped in the frozen Arctic for two years is simply not conducive to action-packed narrative.  Proving as adaptable in style as genre, the effort is successful.  Simmons more than convincingly describes the day-to-day life of trying to survive in -60 degree temperatures and stinging blizzards, not to mention claustrophobia, cabin-fever, and paranoia that set in amongst the crew the longer they spend trapped on the ice. Surprisingly weighing in at over 900 pages, the novel's sublime description of slow dwindling supplies and morale pulls the reader down to the crew’s level for a first hand experience, pace not suffering in the least.  The despair and hope of escaping a situation so far removed from their lives in Britain comes to life under the author's pen and keeps the reader engaged.

Simmons adheres to historical data for as much is available in the bulk of the story.  Certainly, however, he does take some artistic license, not only deciding the fate of the crew members, but also including an ice monster that harasses, terrorizes and generally makes already miserable lives all the worse.  Though its sudden emergence is at times scary, the beast makes enough appearances to warrant deeper investigation into its thematic relevance.  More than a cheesy plot device, who the monster kills is of vital importance to understanding Simmons’ commentary on the mindset of the era, the superman attitude with which colonial powers set about building empires to dominate the world showing its flaws.  The incongruous ending of the novel, rather than confusing the narrative, in fact highlights the degree to which mankind has continued to separate itself from nature.  That many reviewers misunderstand this only emphasizes the point.

At one time historical, horror, and literary fiction, Simmons’ ambitions in The Terror nonetheless remain tightly focused.  By telling the tale from the minds and mouths of the crew, officer to common sailor, the book maintains its social and environmental integrity.   The reader’s vicarious experience of seeing the world through the eyes of Captain Crozier, for example, gaining the knowledge he does after being trapped on the ice for two years is suitable for any era.  As such, this book comes highly recommended for anyone interested in the history of the HMS Erebrus and HMS Terror, life in the Arctic, or simply one man’s imaginative telling of a fate for which history has no record.

(The folks at www.fantasyliterature.com have also posted this review at their site.)
 

Review of "Song of Kali" by Dan Simmons

I read a number of reviews prior to buying Song of Kali.  I noticed several took issue with the book's portrayal of India as a trash filled, disease ridden country.  After reading the novel, I have to say these people saw only the superficial images of filth and decay Simmons so vividly evokes, thus missing the point of the novel.  At heart, Song of Kali is the story of a man whose eyes are opened, in the most tormenting of fashions, to the social realities of the third world, a changed view of his own culture and environment the result.  Not a cheap shot at the expense of undeveloped countries, the book is foremost a personal journey which seeks to better contextualize differing qualities of life.  In other words, those wishing to read a horror novel purely for the genre’s sake should look elsewhere.  If you’re still interested, the idea of the story is as follows:

Sent to pick up the manuscript of an Indian poet thought dead, the writer Robert Luczak and his family find themselves in the underbelly of Calcutta street life, a place wholly unlike their native USA.  Uncertain of who to trust, Luszak must deal with underground sects, literati, the politically connected, as well as strangers on the street as he attempts to track down the ever elusive manuscript.  The horrors he finds along the way, however, are not limited to scenes he witnesses at the bottom end of India’s caste system.  Beneath the squalor of Calcutta’s streets, a cult of Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction, is rising.  New members are subject to unthinkable initiation rites, and in the basement of the temple itself, Luszak encounters something from a nightmare.  This nightmare, however, pales in comparison to the reality which he faces after completing his mission.  Heartbreaking beyond belief, the manner in which Luszak triumphs over this power is not only riveting but emotionally charged.  Beyond the horror and dirty streets, it is the true message of the story. 

Winner of the World Fantasy Award, Song of Kali is recommended for anyone seeking a well written story of redemption whose horror elements are but auxiliary.  As usual, Simmons’ prose is smooth and easy, stark yet evocative, not to mention the narrative he produces has an atypical structure which enhances the story’s conclusion.  Yes, Simmons does not paint a beautiful picture of India, but that is not the point.  Read for yourself and find out.

(The folks at www.fantasyliterature.com were kind enough to put this post on their website.)