John Brunner

Meeting At Infinity

Meeting At InfinityI am pleased to have started 2023 with reading a vintage science fiction novel. I read Meeting at Infinity by John Brunner (1934 – 1995).  This novel was first published in 1961. I read the ACE edition with cover art by John Schoenherr.  The book begins with a short prologue and has twenty-one chapters.

After reading the prologue I was rather discouraged because I really do not care for that sort of writing. To describe it – it just feels like its trying really hard to be lofty and profound and it just annoys me. Anyway, it is not an easy novel to read even beyond the prologue. Frankly, the first six chapters are a lot of work in which the reader really is not given much to work with.  Characters are mentioned and they seem to be acting with purpose, but its all very closed to the reader at this point.  Threads of a plot are everywhere, but they are not very accessible.  In other words, it feels a bit frustrating because not only is the setting an unfamiliar future world, but the characters roles and relationships are difficult to consider.

This is one of those novels where as a reader, you have to continue on because you have faith and trust in the author.

Obviously, the author has an overall plot – he has a story he is going to tell us. For whatever reason, he felt that starting in media res and not really bothering with any exposition at all was the way to start this novel. In my opinion, the book takes too much work to start. It is not engaging and at my age, maybe I do not fancy authors trying to tell stories in such a sink-or-swim fashion. The sentences on their own make sense, it is just tedious to keep reading them. Now, this clears up somewhat around halfway into the novel. I am not sure if it clears up per se, but the reader becomes much more familiar with the setting and the characters. The motives seem a little sketchy, nevertheless. The novel is, more or less, an action novel, believe it or not.  It is difficult to accept that in the beginning, but ultimately that is the baseline for this work.

The author has said that he has high regard for Anthony Burgess (1917 – 1993) and I feel like Brunner had an advance reader copy of A Clockwork Orange.  Not that this novel is similar, but there are aspects that feel a little too coincidental. If I must give an example, I will suggest the counter-culture youth in Burgess’ novel being similar to the yonder boys with their alpha dog leader, Jockey. Meeting at Infinity predates Burgess’ book by a year. Brunner’s lower caste of society has their own lingo and their own gang-like structure of toughs and petty crimes. Syndicates running in their own circles – so far beneath the top of the society that they are almost two separate universes already. The lingo Brunner creates is actually kind of fun – I like it. For familiarization, it would remind contemporary readers of something like the lingo used in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) among Immortan Joe’s army.

As I mentioned, the novel is, more or less, an action novel. However, the overarching structure is a sort of economic/sociological future that we are not really told enough about.  No, novels about economics are rarely the most fascinating. So it is a bit of a blessing, perhaps, that readers are not given too much detail about this society. However, it is a frustrating thing to not have the thing fleshed out a bit more. I mean, basic supply & demand and consumption is utterly absent. Its clear that there is a top-echelon of “owners of the means of acquiring.”  But what, for whom, why, seems a bit sketchy. You have to have a market – and there is a Market – which is not entirely explained, either. Just a sort of corporate boardroom which seems to maintain some balance among the vying controlling interests.

There is some explanation, I guess. This future society is the result, one assumes, of a fellow named Tacket turning everything upside down on account of a discovery and usage of portals? Matter transmission portals, I guess? Or Stargates, perhaps? Again, this is one of those concepts that is constant in the novel, but not easily accessible. Or maybe I am just a horrific reader? I kind of do not think this is the case, though.

vintage-sf-badgeThere are also these rho-function elements. Apparently, they are part of imported technology from one of the portals? The main sidestory involving a woman named Allyn Vage is utterly about these rho-function things. Now, toward the end of the novel, there is some attempt to explain what all of this is about, but honestly, its very much left up to the reader. Its very difficult for an author to successfully utilize hard science and yet not fully work them out. Brunner takes the somewhat slack avenue of frequently saying that the characters themselves do not really understand how the technology works. Its okay to say so, but then do not make the technology such a pivotal element of the novel.

Further, there is an element of “luck” introduced. This was reminiscent, to me, of something out of Asimov’s Foundation. In fact, I would say that this novel feels a lot like Foundation + A Clockwork Orange. I enjoyed the element of luck and the characters involved in it – but it seems like a stolen concept. Or too obvious:  of course the alpha leader in the subculture is the one that has this ability.

The many separate interests cause battles to be fought on multiple fronts throughout the novel. There is even a police force in this society – but there does not seem to be a governmental structure? So, the novel feels like there are multiple sides at odds sitting on very shifting and unknown sands. It is difficult for the individual characters to sort it all out, so it certainly is not easy for the reader.

If the reader gets through the whole novel, a lot of the threads come together and make sense. There are resolutions and answers, to a point. However, the answers and connections seem irrelevant or paper-thin. As if a lot of work was put in to make an action novel that has all the correct elements, but none of the depth.  It is a skeleton in some senses and one that takes a lot of work on the reader’s part. I think, generally, the ideas and breadth of the novel could make it a four-star novel, easily.  However, it falls short in a lot of ways that hamper the great ideas and threads in the story. I think the way most reviewers put this is to say that the ideas are there, but the execution is not on point.  A little exposition and history to flesh out the society would have been helpful.  The character Kingsley Athlone is an absolute mess and needed to be rewritten or something. But there were characters I enjoyed and I wish they had their own continuing adventure novels for me to read.

This was a strange novel to read – difficult as heck to start, stubborn in the middle, and somewhat rewarding at the end. I feel like though I did not love it, there is something about it that lingers in my imagination after I finished it.

3 stars

The Atlantic Abomination

The Atlantic Abomination

ACE, 1960 cover art: Ed Emshwiller

The temperatures crept up over 100° this week and so that limited some of my activities.  To pass the time during the worst parts of the day, I found myself reading The Atlantic Abomination by John Brunner. It was on a stack of books that I had forgotten about. The novel was first published in 1960, but I read the pocket-sized ACE edition from 1969.  It is a slender novel, I think; only 128 pages, but printed in that miniscule font on yellowed paper.  Overall, this is not a perfect novel.  However, the “wow-factor” of the parts that were well done overshadows the not-so-good parts of the novel.

The first chapter is amazingly well written.  Not only that, but the cover artist, Ed Emshwiller, drew the cover based on that first chapter and his vision matches the absolute horror and awesomeness of Brunner’s story.  I do not know all the details of the publishers’ history, but there exists an edition of the novel from 1977 that is by ACE and/or Grosset & Dunlap.  The cover art on that edition is uncredited and, in my opinion, not as amazing as Emshwiller’s original artwork.  I do not usually talk a whole lot about cover art, but the strikingly horrifying nature of Emshwiller’s cover/Brunner’s concept is really worth it to a reader to take a few moments to admire and consider.

Feeling roasted and listless it would take a great chapter to get me really interested in a book. Frankly, if the second chapter and the first chapter had been switched, I likely would have tossed this book aside.  In fact, I would believe that this first chapter was a piece that Brunner just belted out all at once and did not have a storyline for, but had a great idea and got it down and then did not quite know what to do with it.  Publishing being what it was, I suspect he built it into a somewhat more “commonplace” storyline and it became a novel not unlikely to be found in the 1960s.  The first chapter, though, is five stars. Masterfully [pun!] horrific and utterly merciless.

The remainder of the novel has its ups and downs.  Generally, its pacing is a little off and at points it does feel like the writer is not sure where he wants to go with his storyline and is stalling for time. So, current day, oceanography exploration with really high-end technology.  A slightly awkward, but not untoward hint of human drama/romance.  Vague feelings about the Russians and a vague societal competitiveness.  Predictably, the little submariner pod goes very, very deep into the ocean and something goes “wrong.”  Predictably, humans taking major actions based on assumptions or pressed at deadlines causes bad decisions. Mayhem is unleashed.

There are two female characters in the book, both are scientists. One, Eloise, is very marginal.  The second, Mary, is a main character. She is often present in scenes and she is engaged in matters and not superficial, but at the same time, she still remains irrelevant.  I am not the most sensitive to reading characters, but even I noticed that there was this effort to include Mary all the time – but for no real reason at all.

Anyway, the storyline rather runs to the humans-all-band-together deal and readers know that monsters and aliens are apt to underestimate human ingenuity.  So, the storyline grinds along with humans working together to stumble upon solutions, which they, basically, do because they all work together and science never fails. The President of the USA admits to as much in the last page or two of the novel. Go team human! Go science!

The ending is lame. I have to say that I do not know what I expected, but I did want something more spectacular and thrilling than what was delivered. I guess the author was done writing it at that point and enough was enough. I just feel like it is unbalanced compared with how we started this novel – I want the ending that the beginning promised me.

A good read because, as they say, they don’t make ’em like this anymore.  Very good first chapter, as I have said, and general easy reading the rest of the way.  Nothing standout, but nothing utterly atrocious. Definitely something “fun” to consider for those that like catastrophic science fiction or scary alien science fiction.

3 stars

The Whole Man

The Whole Man - John Brunner

The Whole Man – John Brunner

The Whole Man by John Brunner was published in 1964.  In the UK, it was published as Telepathist.  I read the Ballantine 1973 edition with the cover by artist Charles Moll.  I really dislike the cover. I recognize it may be decent artwork, but I really dislike it – it is so…. 1970s. This is kind of how I feel about this novel. Not much in this novel was exciting or very interesting for me. However, it is still a rather impressive novel. So here is The Whole Man – a good novel to read, but not one that will thrill. At the end of the day, it is an contemplative read, not an entertaining read.

The novel takes place in an alternate Earth reality in which telepaths exist and are generally employed in socio-political functions. The whole sphere of interest of this novel is sociology and psychology.  If a reader does not care for these subject areas, then they will find this work a slog.  The main character is Gerry Howson, who is one of the most powerful telepaths (perhaps the most powerful) to live.  He is also a very deformed cripple.  (Except that it is now 2016 and I think I’m supposed to type: “handicapable.”  Howson calls himself a cripple, so we are gonna go with that term for the duration of this entry.)  The novel begins with Howson’s mother in a clinic-style hospital with the background setting of a tumultuous social upheaval.

I did not really speed through the opening chunk of the novel. It was, well, boring. And I feel there was unnecessary or undue focus on Howson’s mother.  It is this opening section that makes me really feel like Brunner was going somewhere entirely different with the novel – something more political, probably. The social turmoil – rioting? terrorism? It is not entirely specified and it is quite vague. And meanwhile the storyline loses traction. I struggled to get started in this book (while pausing a lot to glance at the nearby bookshelves).

The novel does not develop quickly. After the opening chunk, the next section shows us Howson as a young man struggling to survive in a world that is not open to cripples or telepaths. And then there is a whole segment where Howson is wandering sidewalks and having a lot of heavy introspection. I have to be honest, this part was rough for me. It was just so heavy and I am really disinterested in any navel-gazing/sidewalk-wandering in any plot.

However, there are vivid and gripping sections of the storyline; usually parts wherein Howson is actually doing the “real work” of being a professional telepathist. Brunner did not write a child’s conception of telepathy.  This is not some goofy superpower from the comic books.  This is a “scientifically” considered physical scenario in the character’s brains that results in this immaterial power. Howson is a professional telepathist, which has earned him the title of Doctor.  This means that he does this sort of work as a career and there is nothing silly about it whatsoever. I appreciate the solemn and serious attitude in how Brunner approaches this mental power.  Still, the seriousness also gives the novel a very heavy feeling.

Also, because this story is very connected to psychological scenarios Brunner sometimes seems to come across as if he breezed through an introduction to Freudian psychology and just incorporated some stereotypical ideas as he develops Howson’s character.  It is not that these parts are overdone, it just seems like unless a writer is really willing to jump in and is capable of swimming, just splashing around with Freud 101 does not suit.

In the latter half of the book there are a couple of events that occur that are very well written and had me rather fascinated with the story.  Those who have read the novel probably can guess I am discussing Hao Sen/ Tiger City stuff, which is where Brunner takes us into the “subconscious/dream world” of telepathists. Another event is the Rudi Allef event. The Rudi Allef character is the big key to Gerry Howson’s character, so the fact that we only meet Allef at the tail end of the storyline seems to confirm some of my sentiments from the start of the novel:  Brunner was not entirely certain where he was driving this storyline. Now, as I understand it, this is a “fix-up” novel in which Brunner combined a couple of previously written novellas.  I am not sure we “fixed it up” in a good way. Or maybe the third section alone should have been expanded?

The situation (I do not want to put out any spoilers!) with Rudi is quite interesting and intelligent. I appreciate a lot of what Brunner developed conceptually in this section. It made me consider a whole host of things including:  autism, synesthesia, and aesthetics.  However, suddenly using these concepts this late in the novel kind of makes it seem as if Brunner threw it together too late and just because. It shows that it is a “fix up.”

I think I was more interested in the societal impact of having telepathists and so forth over the personal development thread that focuses on Howson and his challenges. Big picture over human interest……

Overall, the storyline has a lot of peaks and valleys.  The concepts are intelligent and interesting, but there is a weight to the novel that slows the read down and makes it a little more like reading a case study than entertainment fiction.  I am glad I read this novel, but I sure cannot think of a person I would recommend this to. Its a good book, but it is not easy to like.  I would give it 3.83 stars if I could – 4 seems a gift.

4 stars

The Stardroppers

The Stardroppers - John Brunner; DAW, 1972; cover Jack Gaughan

The Stardroppers – John Brunner; DAW, 1972; cover Jack Gaughan

I finished The Stardroppers this afternoon.  Written by John Brunner and first published in this form (and under this title) in 1972, it was a super fast read for me.  I really like the Jack Gaughan cover art on this novel.  This is the sort of thing I would probably buy a poster of and put somewhere odd – like in the kitchen, or something.   In full disclosure:  the last two novels I read were quite bad, so anything I had read next would probably have gotten at least three stars from me.

In this book we meet the main character, Dan Cross, as he lands in future London, England from the USA.  Dan is proceeding through “customs” with his “stardropper.”  Chapter 1 is fairly interesting; the reader should be drawn into the novel by what is given.  In Chapter 2, we meet another major character, Hugo Samuel Redvers.  From Redvers we learn that our main character is actually Special Agent Cross.  The scene in this chapter is really typical of those scenes in all spy movies. Character is having a meal/drink in fancy hotel restaurant.  Second character surprises him and sits at his table with an arrogant air and a caustic warning.  The reason I mention this is because this first impression of Redvers stuck with me throughout the book – but not so much with Redvers.  As the story went onward, I started to feel that this cocky know-it-all Redvers moves far away from the Redvers in this scene.  By the last chapter, I feel like Redvers is a sniveling, annoying wimp.   There really was not any reason for this change, either.

Anyway, stardroppers are these machines that are something like AM/FM radios.  No one really knows how they truly work, or what they actually work on.  Allegedly, their discovery was accidental – a scientist was experimenting on another project and noticed anomalies.  Throughout the book, I imagined them generally as those old school binoculars that came in carrying cases or something like “ham” radios.  Stardroppers can also refer to the persons who use stardroppers.  The usage of these items is described many times in the story and Brunner works hard to make the reader feel their usage is commonplace and relatively easy.  The results are kept vague.  Basically, you turn on the machine and put earphones in.  After tuning, you “listen.”

The phenomenon/practice of stardropping (Cp. eavesdropping) is treated as if it were a cross-cultural, cross-generational fad or hobby.  There are plenty of suggestions that it is harmful, addictive, and similar to psychotropic usage.  In other cases, it seems the practice is for research and for those persons who would like to investigate UFOs and other kosmic occurrences. Either way, no one really seems to know much about it – and the scientist who “discovered” this phenomenon is taken to be authoritative for no better reason than he discovered it.  This is the bulk of the novel – and it is the sort of thing that would interest readers who like anthropology and sociology.  But readers of space adventure and space opera might find this sort of ruminating a bit dull.

The whole story culminates in the last three chapters – which do seem a bit of a departure from the storyline that came before.  The main character is fun in the sense that he is a “special agent/spy” type.  But he also is not really fantastic at his job.  However, the super cool concepts get tagged onto him.  For example, the Agency uses hypnosis and neo-Freudian personal associations with words to create a specific user-only language.  It’s bulky and, in reality, untenable.  But it sure is fun to think about.   This plays a role in the resolution of the novel, as well, so it’s good to pay attention when you read about it first in chapter 8.

Overall, this was an okay read.  I feel like a lot of time was spent making stardropping seem murky and like LSD-usage.  It is at the root of social-disorder.  Stardroppers seem to run the gamut between hopeful dreamers, childish addicts, and physics students.  Either way the usage has become so pervasive that the governments have become involved in monitoring this situation.  So, beyond just a personal-level of intrigue, the novel contextualizes stardropping in terms of global politics.  And in the end, the world is saved…. by what was first presented as a fringe, drug-like culture.  I wonder what Brunner really wanted our take-away to be………

3 stars