Big Planet

Big Planet by Jack Vance; Ace & TOR

I finished Big Planet by Jack Vance tonight.  January is Vintage Science Fiction month – as sponsored and encouraged by Little Red Reviewer on her blog.  This is the second Vance novel I have read.  Big Planet was first published in 1957 by Avalon/Ace.   The novel had some revisions and whatnot and was re-released in 1978.  The copy that I read was the TOR 1989 edition.  I took an actual photo (with my phone) of my two copies – the Ace 1967 and the TOR 1989.  I owned the Ace and then found the TOR for only $2 so decided to use that as my “reading copy.”  The cover art for the Ace is by Ed Emshwiller (very famous) and the TOR art is by David Hardy.  Since it’s Vintage Science Fiction month, I thought I’d read this novel because it’s quite vintage and well known.

Overall, this is a rather ridiculous novel.  It does show it’s age.  There are a couple of interesting moments, but overall it’s nothing fantastic.  I say this having read the novel in 2013.  I don’t know how this read to someone in 1960, let’s say.   The main complaints are as follows:  characters are flat and empty, viewpoint regarding women is decidedly not feminist, and the story reads like an extended Star Trek “away team mission.”

Big Planet – a horribly heavy-handed name which states the obvious – is a planet that absorbed the diaspora of cultures from Earth; cultures that were exiled or unwilling to accept Government Rule.  After hundreds of years, the original “culture groups” that arrived on Big Planet spread out, intermingled, and developed.  Thus, the inhabitants are earth-like cultures, but yet they are scattered and have no singular ruling body governing them.  Instead, there is an Earth Enclave, which is presumably a base of some sort where Earth periodically sends commissions to interact with Big Planet and its cultures.  An embassy of sorts, I suppose.

The novel begins with a commission en route to Big Planet.  We meet the characters rapidly and without any finesse.  The ship is attacked (from within) and brought down far from its destination at Earth Enclave.  The survivors find themselves stranded in a village.  It is estimated that they are at least 40,000 miles from Earth Enclave.  Big Planet has many resources, but metal (ore) is not one of them.  Therefore, at least to start, the survivors are relatively wealthy.  However, without much further ado, they all agree to trek off to Earth Enclave.  This is obviously just to get the story moving forth – but let’s consider this further.  Stranded (after a crash landing) in a primitive culture 40,000 miles away from base, with very little in the way of supplies or implements, this group of eight fellas decides that it is a good idea to head out. And, interestingly, the main character, Claude Glystra just assumes command.  He suddenly becomes the leader of the band and not one of the others really even questions this.  We aren’t even given any background on Glystra to help with this.  Perhaps he is ex-military or something – but we get nothing to assist with the suddenness of his command-taking.

So the group sets off. And right away there is this tag-a-long girl who seems really naive and helpless.  Make that a count of nine.  But then not too long after, adventures begin because this group is attacked. Basically, its all a big plot to take down this commission by some dude named Charley Lysidder.  Lysidder employs armies, spies, and religious-types to help him recapture Glystra.  I highly doubt Glystra is really that big of a threat.  Why go to all this trouble? Even if this guy makes it 40,000 battling the natural and exotic perils, what can he possibly do then besides complain to Earth about Big Planet? Ultimately, Big Planet is really beyond the scope of Earth’s rule, anyway. And what does Glystra care?  A moral code is about the only reason he has to stop Lysidder, at first. Finally, a sense of revenge or personal justice plays in.  Basically, the whole premiss of the novel is a bit forced and stretched.

There is one interesting culture that we meet in the novel.  The Kirstendale city is maintained by an interesting populace.  They keep their wherewithal a secret and it takes Glystra awhile to piece it altogether. Nevertheless, it’s an opulent city full of manufactured intrigue and facade.  Ultimately, it would be interesting to investigate this city and expand this into a series of stories or something.  It’s about the only thing creative in the novel, to be honest.

Anyway, Glystra’s group’s numbers dwindle as they deal with threats and peril. Most of the time they are riding on six-legged beasts called zipangotes.  These are like dinosaur, horse, panther things.  They can be used to ride or as pack-animals.  Generally, the “nomadic” races use them to ride around on and raid and terrorize everyone else on the planet.  The other way the group travels is by monoline.  One of the things Vance does in this novel is periodically give us rather intense descriptions of mechanical things.  He uses fairly technical terms and describes them just as if one were seeing them with one’s own sight. Unfortunately, I was unable to really get a picture of any of these things in my mind. I don’t know if I wasn’t focused or if I just could not get the words sorted out. Anyway, Vance clearly had something in mind and tried to get us to understand these mechanical things, too. The monoline is like a trolley that ports people by sail and gravity by “air” across a huge stretch of land. Traders use it, too, and knowing this, the monoline gets attacked a lot by hostiles.

The ending was predictable and the villain was obnoxious and yucky.  I am glad I read the novel, because I love reading and I love science fiction.  However, there is not a whole lot in here that can be recommended to readers in 2013.  It’s a short read. Not very sweet.

3 stars

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

The Elegance of the Hedgehog – Muriel Barbery; Europa Editions

I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be reviewing what I consider to be a five star novel as the first book review of 2013.  After a smattering of so-so, also-rans, and sub-par reads, I was recommended this novel by someone in my family. (Not something that happens often.)  I ordered it from Amazon and got it sometime after Christmas.  The Elegance of the Hedgehog ( L’Élégance du hérisson ) was first published (in French) in 2006 and was translated into English in 2008.  I did not know this for a fact until after reading the novel, but the author, Muriel Barbery, is a philosophy professor.  I say “for a fact” because as I read it – I probably knew this in some subconscious level. After all, what other profession could keep me amused, enthralled, and at points ready to argue.  I have a lot to say about this novel, so settle in!

First of all, it seems there are a lot of people out there who have read the novel and find it pretentious.  They use this word to describe it and then go on to pontificate about how much they disliked it.  I wholeheartedly agree that it is pretentious as heck.  And that is merely one of the reasons I love it.  There are lots of “pretentious” books out there. Let me give some examples:  Wicked by Gregory Maguire, Embassytown by China Mieville, One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell, Persuasion by Jane Austen.  I consider these novels to be in the category of BADLY pretentious, which please note, is not a charming self-assured pretentiousness.  In order to be pretentious in a good way, one must also be arrogant – but, like Kid Rock sings, “It aint braggin’ – if ya back it up.”  Frankly, Barbery can and does “back it up.”

One clue that a philosopher wrote this:  there are direct, short, brutally assertive sentences. Only the mad and confident philosopher dares (particularly in the modern world) to write sentences that actually assert things. None of this wishy-washy ambiguity. No political correctness.  No hedging, weasling, or whining. It’s so refreshing to read – and so comfortable for me to read.  Barbery makes assertions in the sense of she states it how it is and does not care to coddle readers who may disagree. And we are talking about topics like the divine, Art, beauty, and humanity.  You do not have to agree with these bold, frank assertions, but I sure did enjoy reading them for their clarity, brevity, and staunchness.

Throughout the book there are plenty of positions taken by the characters to lead the reader to want to disagree at times with everything.  There is a feeling of nihilism.  I think readers rebel from the bold assertions (and criticisms) leveled from autodidact characters.  And the whole thing offends every sensibility our egalitarian social slumber has forced upon us.

Moreover, this is why the novel had to be French. Only the French (and a philosopher) could possibly have written this work.  Because throughout there are direct criticisms of humanity and social classes.  Indeed, there is a direct complaint against a specific class of people:  namely, the yuppie, the nouveau riche, and the pretentious.  This class of people is presented as inauthentic, insufferable, obnoxious, and self-absorbed in foolishness.  And the fact that these complaints come from a member of the lowest class who is self-taught in higher intellectual pursuits, clearly is reason to annoy readers.  My personal suspicion is that we can discern a great deal about the readers themselves based on their reaction to the book. Naturally, the yuppie (interestingly to whom this book is actually marketed!) will despise it with great rancor.

I’m a blueblooded elitist. I’m a professional philosopher. I harbor a lot of distaste for the yuppie-class.  I absolutely loved this novel.

Do you see what I did there? I described myself in direct assertions. I used words to describe positions that are, at best, uncommon and at worst vex everyone in society. It’s not “polite” or deemed “acceptable” to be a blueblood. Or a philosopher. Or an aristocrat. Or an elitist. I know that. But I am what I am and I would rather not lie and say I am other than I am.  However, I am not foolish enough to think that being a person of these traits is well-accepted in the USA in 2013.  It conjures all sorts of images of Boss Tweed, conservative, Establishment things that irk the WASP who was grown to love American concepts of society and the Protestant Work Ethic.  That being said, yeah, I do not go about flaunting and putting on airs and exhibiting any of these opinions and positions of mine.  I mention this because many reviewers of this novel were unable to fathom why a person would pretend to be dumb or hide their intelligence.

I do it all the time.  One cannot go around being truly intelligent – it rubs people the wrong way. And, of course with great predictability, they call it being arrogant or pretentious. Sort of a damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario.  You cannot use an extensive vocabulary with your waitress, the gas station attendant, or the cashier. I know – I’ve tried; and gotten the blank looks, misunderstood glare, and the horrible dullard grunts of “hunh?”   So you have to speak the language of the culture you are in. Sometimes, right wrong or indifferent, if you want to function in society – you have to be a chameleon. Among the working man, you blend in and get along.  Don’t worry – it goes in reverse. When among the yuppie nouveau riche one has to be a certain way as well, lest one usurp and undermine their fragile edifice of self-importance. Gradually, with astute care, you can use clues and hints and discover more about your interlocutor – and then adapt and open up the conversation to a broader and more developed one. But it’s a subtle give and take.  Don’t just march up to people speaking without slang. I have a tendency of using archaic words, but they are familiar and commonplace to me. I get a lot of stares of non-comprehension.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I wrote a poem about this. Maybe I’ll share it. We’ll see. I was young and silly. But it makes the point better than anything I’ve said so far.

Anyway, the point is that the novel offends people. Because, I think, only rueful, thick-skinned, intelligent, and witty people can “get” this novel for what it is. After all, before everyone starts calling the author and her characters “pretentious” or “holier-than-thou” or “high & mighty” – there are several places wherein the characters even hack on philosophy/philosophers.  If you don’t have thick skin, stay the hell home. Philosophers are used to twisting words at each other and critiquing everything. We can take it – can you?

All of this aside, I really enjoyed the theme of the novel. I enjoyed the setting, the characters, and the storyline. I enjoyed the writing above all.  Barbery is so dang witty, she had me laughing aloud at several points.  I knew this was a five star novel because I was actually jotting down quotes.  I cannot stop myself from sharing them here!

Ripping on phenomenology (which I, too, dislike) the main character says (pg. 63):

But enough of phenomenology:  it is nothing more than the solitary, endless monologue of consciousness, a hard-core autism that no real cat would ever importune.

…..and another reason I adore this novel is because of the plethora of animal characters. Barbery also understands animals – really understands them (not like yuppies understand anything). And I am an absolute sucker for animals.

On page 92, the young character says this considering her father’s morning breakfasting ritual.  She concludes her thesis a few pages later:

In our world, that’s the way you live your grown-up life:  you must constantly rebuild your identity as an adult, the way it’s been put together it is wobbly, ephemeral, and fragile, it cloaks despair and, when you’re alone in front of the mirror, it tells you the lies you need to believe.

What do we do in the morning?  Papa reads his paper while he drinks his coffee, Maman drinks her coffee while she leafs through catalogues, Colombe drinks her coffee while she listens to France Inter and I drink hot chocolate while reading mangas.  Just now I’m reading Taniguchi mangas; he’s a genius, and he’s teaching me a lot about people.

And another witty and fun quote is from the main character on page 220:

What toilet paper does for people’s derrieres contributes considerably more to the abyss between the classes than a good many external signs.

Now, although as you read the novel, you may feel it is really just a false setting/personae dramatis so that the author can make bold assertions.  It can be accused of that – and I am okay with it. But there is a deeper theme:  that of meaning of life, of Fate, and of Beauty.  And if you don’t pick up on these threads, heaven help us, you will be writing a negative review soon after finishing the novel.  The novel has a somewhat “tragic” ending – but a good tragic. I do not want to give anything away, but know that the ending is both happy and unhappy.  It’s actually a pretty good ending – that you should see coming a few chapters beforehand.

And beyond all that I have already said here:  do not take this novel too seriously.  I mean it. If you do, you are guilty of falling prey to the typical French trickery.  Just like with the Italians, there is emotion and content and bold assertion:  but we are still going to finish our bread and tea and smile like goofy children at the end of it.  WASPs really aren’t gonna like this novel.  Don’t take this too seriously. For your own sake.

Reading this novel has decided that this year will be the year of French.  (Last year was the year of Russian.) I will, obviously, still continue the Russian path, but I really love the French and their constant wrangling and defining of social classes, politics, and society. Vive la France!

5 stars

Shadow Prowler

Shadow Prowler – Alexey Pehov; TOR

Shadow Prowler is the first book in the Chronicles of Siala series by Russian author Alexey Pehov.  It was originally written, in Russian, in 2002, but published by TOR in 2010 under English translation by Andrew Bromfield.  I bought my copy new – paperback – with the cover art by Kekai Kotaki.  It was a random book purchase – I saw it on the shelf and since this is “read Russians” year for me (sort of), I took it to the checkout.

This novel is at once a very good novel and a very bad novel. At 557 pages, it definitely qualifies as a typical epic fantasy novel. Ultimately, this is what is both good and bad about the novel:  typical epic fantasy.  Pehov nails each and every trope, cliché, and imitation found in epic fantasy novels.  So, in some sense, the originality is lacking. Because if you have read the Dragonlance Chronicles series, Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time, Terry Brooks’ Shannara series, and anything by Tolkien, this will seem obvious and derivative. That’s bad, right? Or maybe not. But it could be.

The main character, Harold, is a master thief and is coerced through fate and scheming to embark on a quest that he’d rather not embark on. He’s presented as some sort of honorable thief. An anti-hero hero archetype.  The real reason he gets caught up in all of the trouble is based on some sort of honor code to the god of thieves regarding commissions. That’s a dubious reason to risk life and limb, right? Or is it? Not that this is new or original to any fantasy novel in history.  In fact, I can name at least two recent novels that share some of this archetype:  The Lies of Locke Lamora and Mistborn.   Thief, antihero. Been there, done that?

There are orcs and elves and demons.  And goblins. And dwarves. And gnomes. Yep – the whole gamut of races that one would find in World of Warcraft and EverQuest.  There are magicians and there are also shamen.  And priests.  So do you see how this book really takes the cake at stuffing the usual suspects into the “typical epic fantasy”?  This is a good thing. No, wait, it’s a bad thing. Or what is it?

Most of the characters act and speak precisely how one expects them to. The grizzled magician, the mentor of the main character, the band of rogues that join the quest, the elven royalty, the bad-guys, the tavern keeper:  they are stereotypical and obvious.  Only the main character has any depth, and honestly, he’s somewhat sarcastic and witty on a mild level. The only other character is a goblin who is the king’s jester and who is spunky and obnoxious.  Everyone else is carbon copy fantasy stock character. Which is a bad thing, right? No, no. It’s a good thing. Things do as they be.

The thing is – as derivative and obvious as this novel is (and it is, folks) – it’s also fun and interesting. As discerning, literary readers we can critique it to death regarding all of it’s obvious flaws. However, at the end of the day, I’d be lying to you if I said I did not enjoy it.  In fact, there are parts that were actually really (dare I say it?) gripping and interesting. Overall, this is a very fun novel. And I read novels to have fun and be entertained. For example, the part where the main character goes to the Forbidden Area of the city dabbles in ghostly Lovecraftian-scary stuff. (There are phantoms and zombies!!!!!)  And, honestly, this was a thrilling part of the novel – I could have read just a whole novel of the main character’s exploits in this scenario.  There are several “flashback”/hallucinations that take place that fill in background. And these were fun. I usually dread flashbacks because they tend to bore me. But, I cannot lie, these were actually kind of fun to read. And they did serve the purpose of filling in background. Late in the book, there is a death of a character and I have to admit, I was saddened by it. Silly ridiculous flat character died – but I sure did feel the tug on my Grinch-heart!

Another horrible thing (no! it’s not horrible at all. Yes it is. NO!) is that the storyline is spread out.  Some fantasy novels introduce characters, setup quest, go on quest. This one takes a multitude of “sections” that would be perfect for TV series.  We do not immediately jump out on the quest and head toward the main goal. Instead, the main character has a bunch of challenges and proximate goals to overcome before we even set out on the main storyline quest.  In fact, and here’s the kicker, by the end of the novel – our noble heroes haven’t even made it where they are going to accomplish the big goal! So if you really want to know – you gotta buy book two (and probably book three).  Not that the time in between was wasted or uninteresting, but it was surprising that the author did this. I mean, gutsy move, dude. And I am certain this turned off a lot of readers.

Speaking of which, Justin (on Goodreads and the blogger of Staffer’s Book Review) wrote this “Review” after giving this book one star. I agree with most of his complaints about the novel. Go ahead and read his commentary – because he’s correct and I think potential readers should read a variety of opinions.  But, and I daresay Justin might agree with me, it was a giggling-ly entertaining puff to read. And if I was so entertained, how can I give the novel one star?  I totally should not like this book as much as I did. And I should also not eat french fries, Taco Bell, or so much pizza………

So what should I rate this book? I am giving it four stars. It is stuffed with the obvious and is extremely derivative. But it’s still so much fun, I just kept turning the pages and I knew it was pulpy and stereotypical – but I was having fun reading it.  So, I totally agree with every one of the criticisms levied against this novel. But I still had a great time reading it. Shame on me: I enjoyed a silly “typical epic fantasy” novel.  And I went and bought book two. Russians gotta do what Russians gotta do….

4 stars

The Man in the High Castle

The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick; Mariner Books 2011

The Man in the High Castle is the fourth Philip K. Dick novel that I have read.  It was first published in 1962 and it won a Hugo Award in 1963.  I will state right away that I am only giving the novel two stars because I have read better from PKD. Also, this novel was not as easy to breeze through and immerse within as the other novels by PKD that I have read were.  I think that the concepts in this novel are five-star concepts, no doubt. But I am docking for execution.

This is easily a good novel for discussing lots of philosophical ideas.  It would probably be best read within a reading group.  Some of the neat philosophical ideas PKD throws out there include:

• historicity
• notion of fakes/counterfeits versus value of original/authentic
• the Japanese concept of Satori
• duties to State versus duties to Self

But overall, the part of the novel that makes it qualify as science fiction is that it presents an alternate reality. I want to say a bit more on this point, but that would involve giving away spoilers.  Suffice it to say, PKD again makes the reader question reality – is this the really real or a false reality?

There are a whole mess of characters in this novel and the plot does not necessarily just hinge on one of them alone. I think I prefer books with a clear main character. I sometimes had a difficult time remember who was who and what and where. I hope your German is better than mine, because I had no mind for German names, phrases, or places. However, if you are a WWII buff, you may find this book of some interest.

Anyway, the character that I liked the most and followed most avidly was Nobusuke Tagomi – a trade missioner in Japanese-controlled San Francisco.  I think it is with this character that PKD gives his all in terms of character development and also the thread of the I Ching that runs through the novel.  Tagomi is the only character that I could feel sympathy for and was interested in. I think this is because PKD manages to pull off an “authentic” traditional Japanese persona here, whereas with the other characters, they are only playacting at their heritage/ethnicity.  For example, most of the Germans seem too obvious and the other Asian characters seem almost simulacra of stereotypes or something.

One thing this novel excels at – without a doubt – is presenting the concept of authentic/false.  This is done with objects, art, people, countries, beliefs, names, and even such small details as hair color and clothing.  This novel could really just be a study in simulacra and simulation. (In case you’re curious, no, no connection from Baudrillard’s book, which was published in 1981.)  If you are interested in the Philosophy of Art and are curious about the ideas of forgeries and fakes versus imitation – this would probably interest you, as well.

Ultimately, this book would interest a lot of readers for a variety of different reasons and aspects. However, the one group I do not really recommend it for is the science fiction audience.  This book is a little less psychological and a little less science fiction than the other PKD books that I have read, and maybe that is why I am only giving it two stars.

I hated the character Juliana Frink with great animosity. As soon as we meet her in the novel, I want to make her go away. It kind of sucks that she ends up as a device for the big reveal at the end. Overall, I find her to be a hideous person and I do not know who PKD modeled her after, but I am sorry for them.  Juliana is an annoying, sickening, vexing character. A novel with her in it cannot get more than two stars, sorry!  Also, I am starting to believe maybe the Hugo Awards are on crack…..

2 stars