Title: Airborn

Author: Kenneth Oppel

Genre: Young Adult, Steampunk, Fantasy

Publisher: Harper Collins
Publication Date: May 2005
Paperback: 544 pages

Sailing toward dawn, and I was perched atop the crow’s nest, being the ship’s eyes. We were two nights out of Sydney, and there’d been no weather to speak of so far. I was keeping watch on a dark stack of nimbus clouds off to the northwest, but we were leaving it far behind, and it looked to be smooth going all the way back to Lionsgate City. Like riding a cloud. . . .

Matt Cruse is a cabin boy on the Aurora, a huge airship that sails hundreds of feet above the ocean, ferrying wealthy passengers from city to city. It is the life Matt’s always wanted; convinced he’s lighter than air, he imagines himself as buoyant as the hydrium gas that powers his ship. One night he meets a dying balloonist who speaks of beautiful creatures drifting through the skies. It is only after Matt meets the balloonist’s granddaughter that he realizes that the man’s ravings may, in fact, have been true, and that the creatures are completely real and utterly mysterious.

In a swashbuckling adventure reminiscent of Jules Verne and Robert Louis Stevenson, Kenneth Oppel, author of the best-selling Silverwing trilogy, creates an imagined world in which the air is populated by transcontinental voyagers, pirates, and beings never before dreamed of by the humans who sail the skies.

Stand alone or series: Book 1 in the Matt Cruse trilogy

How did I get this book: Bought

Why did I read this book: I’ve heard nothing but praise for the works of Kenneth Oppel, and when looking for a new YA novel to read for Steampunk Week, Airborn was the clear choice.

Review:

Matt Cruse was born in the sky.

The son of a dedicated airman, Matt has always longed to fly like his father. And, after his father’s death, Matt finally gets to live out his wish, serving on his father’s old ship, the Aurora, as a cabin boy. Two years in service, the luxury airship comes across a marooned balloon in their path – and young Matt helps to bring the balloon’s sole inhabitant on board to safety. This old adventurer asks Matt if he had seen “them” – beautiful, flying creatures in the sky – just before he dies. One year later, Matt is still hard at work on the Aurora as a cabin boy, having lost out on his opportunity to advance to a junior sailmaker position (to a well-connected, rich young man). Though his hopes are temporarily dashed, Matt is always happiest in the air, and relishes his time aboard the magnificent ship. Then, he meets a girl named Kate de Vries – sassy, intelligent, and adventurous…as well as rich, pretty, and spoiled. As it turns out, Kate is the granddaughter of the man Matt rescued a year prior, and she is travelling on the Aurora with a very specific mission to discover exactly what her grandfather saw. Matt and Kate, despite their difference in class, become fast friends and work together to find answers, and elusive proof of Kate’s grandfather’s magnificent, winged creatures. Of course, things are never so easily accomplished and a number obstacles present themselves – namely pirates, a shipwreck, more pirates, and wild, unfettered danger.

Airborn is a rollicking adventure novel, blending aeronautics with compelling characters, stunning images, and a swashbuckling plot. It’s kind of like Titanic the The Swiss Family Robinson meets Up meets Treasure Island meets Die Hard in the sky. Sounds like an unlikely, unappetizing mix? Let me assure you, gentle readers, I mean this multi-genre/film/book mishmash comparison in the best possible way. I LOVE ALL OF THESE THINGS.

Ergo, I love Airborn.

At 500 pages, Airborn is a swift, unputdownable read. Narrated by Matt Cruse in a clear, level-headed, youthfully honest voice, this book managers to tread familiar waters – or rather, fly familiar skies, a more apropos metaphor – with pirates, young love across class differences, shipwrecks, and mythical bird creatures, and yet still feel fresh and exhilarating. This is the kind of adventure story I want to pass on to younger, reluctant readers, to get them excited about books, about the escapist, fun experience reading can be.

And fun Airborn truly is. Matt Cruse’s world is familiar in its Victorian-type era and aesthetic (impressive, dominant airships, strong class-dividing lines, era-specific wardrobes, etiquette and mannerisms), but Mr. Oppel manages to put a new, steampunk worthy spin on his technology, inventing an entirely new element called “hydrium,” lighter than hydrogen (enabling massive airships to fly to great altitudes without the need for gas or steam power) that smells, strangely, of mangoes. Throughout the book, it is little touches like this that make the setting seem completely natural, and the world plausible (for example, as Matt guides Kate on a tour of the Aurora he points out the many “Depressionist” paintings on display in the cigar room).

In addition to the swashbucking, altogether wondrous plot and worldbuilding, the characters are what make Airborn soar. Kate, as the headstrong and adventurous (dare I say young Amelia Peabody-esque – minus the parasol and ample…well, you know) young heroine is feisty and winsome, more so because she is not without her flaws. In addition to having the usual YA fantasy heroine traits (smart, driven, restless with the constraints of her class and family expectations), she also is uppity, spoiled, and careless – and it’s cool to see that. She’s not perfect, but that’s ok – she’s all the more real and endearing for it. But the true showstealer in Airborn is young Matt Cruse – Cabin Boy, narrator, and heart-wrenchingly honest young man. Matt’s voice is pure and resonant; he shares his fears and emotions without reserve, allowing readers to truly get a feel for this remarkable young protagonist. He’s (obviously) smitten with Kate, but infuriated by her manner at times too, and the interactions between these two characters is alternately tender and hilarious. They make quite the duo on their adventures together, and I cannot wait for more.

If you couldn’t tell, I truly loved Airborn. It’s a feast for the Young Adult, but also for the older, more world-weary reader, looking for pirate-story adventures to sweep them away on a current of mango scented Hydrium.

Plus, Airborn ends with the best closing line ever.

BUT IS IT STEAMPUNK? Hell freakin’ yeah it is. Ok, it’s light on the “punk” component. It doesn’t really challenge or critique society in any way – but the imaginative (yet still relatively simple) technology is central to the story, and it is set in a very Steampunk appropriate world. The book basically takes place on an airship, which isn’t just for show – we readers learn how it works, how the world looks, and what dangers accompany this strange technology. There’s also an almost a “Darwin goes to Galapagos” feel to the book so far as Kate and Matt’s excursions to discover the mysterious Cloud Cats and – very era and sub-genre appropriate.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the official excerpt:

“Sir, there’s a ship headed towards us!”

The airship was small, and I could now see why I’d not picked her out earlier. Her skin was painted black, and she carried no running beacons anywhere. No light emanated from the Control Car either. Her side bore no markings, no name or number. It was only her dark sheen from the moon’s light that made her visible at all.

“She’s at ten o’clock and sailing straight for us, half a mile.”

“Bear away,” I heard the first office tell his rudder-man. “Elevator up six degrees. Summon the captain.”

That meant we were going into a climb. The Aurora was as responsive as a falcon. Stars streamed to my left as the ship began her turn, angling heavenward. High in the crowsnest, I swivelled in my chair so I could watch the smaller vessel. As we turned and climbed, she turned and climbed with us, keeping herself on a collision course. This was no mistake. She was chasing us. She was smaller and faster than the Aurora, and I could feel the vibration of our engines at full capacity. We would not be able to outrun her.

“Where is she, Mr. Cruse?”
“She’s changed course, but still coming right at us. Closing, at eight o’clock.”
“Raise her on the radio!” I heard the first officer shouting out to the wireless officer.
“She’s not responding.”

A collision seemed sure now, but for what purpose?

“Distance, Cruse!”
“Some two hundred yards, sir.”
“Send out a distress call,” I heard Mr. Rideau instruct the wireless operator.
“We’re too far out, sir,” Mr. Bayard’s voice replied.

It was clear there was no shaking her, this sleek black raptor shadowing us through the night sky.

“She’s angling up, sir,” I said into the speaking tube, “as though she means to overshoot us.”

“Take us down, Mr. Riddihoff, take us down five degrees, with haste!”

I felt the Aurora pivot and her bow dip. My ears popped and heaviness rose through me. I swirled in my seat, peering up and almost over the ship’s stern as the airship pulled closer, altering course as seamlessly as if she’d anticipated our moves.
“Fifty yards off our stern!” I shouted into the speaking tube. “Forty, thirty . . . she’s pulling up over our tail.”

And so she was, this predatory airship, skimming over our tail fins and gradually overtaking us, only a few dozen feet overhead.

“She’s directly overhead, sir, matching us.”

We were levelling out now and so was the other airship. Less than half our size, she was like some agile black shark hounding a whale.

“Hard about, please.”

Through the speaking tube it was the captain’s voice I heard now, and I felt a surge of confidence to know he was on the bridge. He would see us through this. Again the Aurora swivelled, trying to throw off her predator, but once more the smaller ship matched our movements, slinking over us like a shadow. A spotlight flared from its underside, and I saw ropes springing from open bay doors and unfurling towards the Aurora.

“She’s dropping lines on us!” I shouted into the speaking tube.

Pirates! That was all they could be.

“They’re trying to board,” the captain said. “Dive and roll to starboard, please.”

The lines were weighted, for they hit the ship and didn’t slide off. I saw six men already dropping down towards me. But then the Aurora banked sharply, dipped, and the lines slewed off the Aurora’s back, leaving the men dangling in mid-air.

“Ha! You’ll not have us!” I shouted, shaking my fist.

But the pirate airship was already adjusting its course, keeping pace, and as it forced us closer to the waves, we would have less space to manoeuvre. There was a great flash from the pirate ship’s underbelly and a thunderous volley of cannon fire scorched the night sky across our bow.

A voice carried by bullhorn shuddered the air.
“Put your nose to the wind and cut speed.”

There was no need for me to repeat this into the speaking tube for I knew they had heard it in the Control Car. There was a moment of silence, and I could imagine them all down there, standing very straight and still, the elevator men and rudder-men watching the captain, awaiting his command. He had no choice. That cannon could sink us in an instant.

“Level off and put her into the wind, please,” said Captain Walken. “Throttle back the engines to one-quarter. Thank you.”

You can read the full excerpt online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: Airborn is actually the first book in a trilogy following the adventures of Matt and Kate – the next two books are Skybreaker and Starclimber:

Former cabin boy Matt Cruse, now a student at the prestigious Airship Academy, is first to identify the Hyperion, the private airship of a reclusive and fabulously wealthy inventor that disappeared forty years ago with its owner. Armed with the Hyperion’s coordinates, which only he possesses, Matt, heiress Kate de Vries, and a mysterious young gypsy board the Sagarmatha, an airship fitted with the new skybreaker engines that will allow them to reach the Hyperion, 20,000 feet above the earth’s surface. Pursued by others who want the Hyperion and will stop at nothing to get it, and surrounded by dangerous high-altitude life forms, Matt and his companions are soon fighting not only for the Hyperion but for their very lives.

In this thrilling sequel to Airborn, a Michael L. Printz Honor Book, Kenneth Oppel evokes the classic storytelling of Robert Louis Stevenson and Jules Verne, creating a world in which a new discovery can have unimagined consequences — on earth and miles above it.

“Mr. Cruse, how high would you like to fly?”

A smile soared across my face.

“As high as I possibly can.”

Pilot-in-training Matt Cruse and Kate de Vries, expert on high-altitude life-forms, are invited aboard the Starclimber, a vessel that literally climbs its way into the cosmos. Before they even set foot aboard the ship, catastrophe strikes:

Kate announces she is engaged – and not to Matt.

Despite this bombshell, Matt and Kate embark on their journey into space, but soon the ship is surrounded by strange and unsettling life-forms, and the crew is forced to combat devastating mechanical failure. For Matt, Kate, and the entire crew of the Starclimber, what began as an exciting race to the stars has now turned into a battle to save their lives.

Award-winning and bestselling author Kenneth Oppel brings us back to a rich world of flight and fantasy in this breathtaking new sequel to Airborn and Skybreaker.

The series has an awesome interactive website, chock full of great extras. I highly recommend you go forth and check it out.

Rating: 8 – Excellent, and I cannot wait to pick up the next two books in the series!

Reading Next: Arcadia Snips and the Steamwork Consortium by Robert C. Rodgers

Title: The Windup Girl

Author: Paolo Bacigalupi

Genre: Science Fiction, Dystopia

Publisher: Night Shade Books
Publication Date: September 2009
Hardcover: 300 pages

What Happens when bio-terrorism becomes a tool for corporate profits? And what happens when said bio-terrorism forces humanity to the cusp of post-human evolution? In The Windup Girl, award-winning author Paolo Bacigalupi returns to the world of “The Calorie Man”( Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award-winner, Hugo Award nominee, 2006) and “Yellow Card Man” (Hugo Award nominee, 2007) in order to address these questions.

Stand alone or series: Can be read as a stand alone novel, although it is set in the world of two of Bacigalupi’s short stories – “The Calorie Man” (Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award-winner, Hugo Award nominee, 2006) and “Yellow Card Man” (Hugo Award nominee, 2007).

How did I get this book: Bought

Why did I read this book: Ever since I heard of The Windup Girl and saw it on numerous Best of 2009 lists, I have been dying to read this book.

Review:

First things first – I had seen this book praised to the high heavens after its late 2009 release, and have been looking forward to reading it ever since. Then, when I started to see it pop up on “Steampunk Essential Reading” lists, I was even more excited, and I set a firm date to read and review this highly anticipated release for Steampunk Week.

Well folks, I’m a little chagrined to report: The Windup Girl really is not Steampunk.

At least, it doesn’t fit in with my conceptualization of steampunk. That’s not to say that it isn’t a good book – because it is. But as a feature for this week, it falls a little short. But more on that later.

The Windup Girl is a futuristic dystopia, set in a shocking incarnation of Thailand. The world as we know it has changed drastically – genetically engineered crops have fallen to strengthened, bio-engineered pests; food is controlled by corporations; fossil fuels are all but exhausted; sea levels have risen and reclaimed incredible surface areas…Bacigalupi’s is a dying world. In this version of Thailand, tensions tear the nation from without and within – the government corrupt, the locals resentful of “yellow card” refugees and the encroaching farang (or foreigners), their factories, and their attempts to steal . And, embroiled in this volatile world are four important characters: Anderson Lake – a “Calorie Man” farang intent on discovering gene-ripping secrets for The Company. Hock Seng – a “Yellow Card” Chinese-Malay refugee, foreman of Anderson’s factory, and with a business agenda of his own. Jaidee – a vigilante-type local “hero,” set on sticking it to those in command and fighting corruption with his own glory-seeking style of mayhem. And finally, there’s Emiko – a “New Person,” a “herky-jerky” Japanese genetically engineered woman made to be a sexual companion and personal secretary, left behind by her keeper, left to a world of degradation and abuse each night at a Thai flophouse.

Nuanced and darkly grim, The Windup Girl is an original, memorable debut novel from the undeniably talented Paolo Bacigalupi. In many ways, this novel is an environmentally-conscious, precautionary tale and all the more terrifying because of its plausibility; we very well could engineer our own food and environmental demise intentionally (i.e. biological terrorism) or unintentionally (resistant, super strains of pests and diseases). The Windup Girl’s worldbuilding as well is solid. As a Southeast Asian from the Philippines and Indonesia, I can definitely see that Mr. Bacigalupi has done his homework, down to the fruit of the region (for example, rambutan, which translates from Indonesian as “hair fruit”) and the tensions between natives and their hatred for Chinese immigrants.

But it is thematically that The Windup Girl is at its finest. The overwhelming, unifying theme of the book is that of greed: corporate greed that caused the world’s death, human greed that dominates the Thai government, personal greed that motivates any number of characters in the book. The ugliness of humanity is prevalent throughout, painting a grimy, unflinching picture of the world.

So far as characters go, however, Mr. Bacigalupi left me feeling a little cold. While an equal amount of time is spent on each main character, they all felt a little bare-boned. Interestingly, the only character I felt any sort of connection with was the NON-”human” character Emiko, the titled Windup Girl. Her struggles, her alienation and sustained abuse is horrifying stuff, and her determination to live despite it all is a bright spot in a a decidedly grim novel. The reaction of humans towards “New People” is discrimination on an epic scale, and the kicker is, with the world so disintegrated, only the New People may survive as the next step in human evolution.

While I enjoyed The Windup Girl, I did find that it faltered in a few vital categories. As a novel of science fiction, the actual science element of The Windup Girl isn’t very strong – the concept of biologically engineered New People, made so that their motions are “herky-jerky” but also simultaneously lightning quick, and the genetic breeding of character traits like “obedience” rings as a little bit silly. Furthermore, the idea of using springs to store and generate energy is also not very believable – surely there were other power options available to this world (wind, solar, hydro, biodiesel, nuclear, etc)? Also, I found myself asking, is this story actually effective? The answer is both yes and no. There was a LOT of repetition in this book where there needn’t have been – there’s little advancement of any truly engaging plot. The actual point of the story, its atmospheric strengths and green-conscious warning for the future are made easily within the first 50 pages or so. Ultimately, I found it abundantly clear that Mr. Bacigalupi is a short fiction writer, as The Windup Girl felt like an unnecessarily protracted novella.

These failings in mind, however, I still ended up enjoying The Windup Girl, and look forward to seeing what else Paolo Bacigalupi has up his sleeve in the future.

BUT IS IT STEAMPUNK? Nope. The Windup Girl is not by any stretch of the imagination Steampunk. Using my own bizarre criteria of what constitutes Steampunk, The Windup Girl just doesn’t quite cut it. Other than a single scene involving dirigibles, there is absolutely no steam-technology in this book. None. Zilch. Nada. Though there is a significant amount of radical social and political critique in this book, there is basically nothing on the steam-technological or aesthetic end of the spectrum – and a couple of dirigibles does not a steampunk make. Sorry folks that have this on their Steampunk Essentials list – The WIndup GIrl doesn’t make it on mine. (Though it is a good example of a green-conscious dystopian novel!)

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the first chapter:

“No! I don’t want the mangosteen.” Anderson Lake leans forward, pointing. “I want that one, there. Kaw pollamai nee khap. The one with the red skin and the green hairs.”

The peasant woman smiles, showing teeth blackened from chewing betel nut, and points to a pyramid of fruits stacked beside her. “Un nee chai mai kha?”

“Right. Those. Khap.” Anderson nods and makes himself smile. “What are they called?”

“Ngaw.” She pronounces the word carefully for his foreign ear, and hands across a sample.

Anderson takes the fruit, frowning. “It’s new?”

“Kha.” She nods an affirmative.

Anderson turns the fruit in his hand, studying it. It’s more like a gaudy sea anemone or a furry puffer fish than a fruit. Coarse green tendrils protrude from all sides, tickling his palm. The skin has the rust-red tinge of blister rust, but when he sniffs he doesn’t get any stink of decay. It seems perfectly healthy, despite its appearance.

“Ngaw,” the peasant woman says again, and then, as if reading his mind. “New. No blister rust.”

Anderson nods absently. Around him, the market soi bustles with Bangkok’s morning shoppers. Mounds of durians fill the alley in reeking piles and water tubs splash with snakehead fish and red-fin plaa. Overhead, palm-oil polymer tarps sag under the blast furnace heat of the tropic sun, shading the market with hand-painted images of clipper ship trading companies and the face of the revered Child Queen. A man jostles past, holding vermilion-combed chickens high as they flap and squawk outrage on their way to slaughter, and women in brightly colored pha sin bargain and smile with the vendors, driving down the price of pirated U-Tex rice and new-variant tomatoes.

None of it touches Anderson.

“Ngaw,” the woman says again, seeking connection.

The fruit’s long hairs tickle his palm, challenging him to recognize its origin. Another Thai genehacking success, just like the tomatoes and eggplants and chiles that abound in the neighboring stalls. It’s as if the Grahamite Bible’s prophecies are coming to pass. As if Saint Francis himself stirs in his grave, restless, preparing to stride forth onto the land, bearing with him the bounty of history’s lost calories.

“And he shall come with trumpets, and Eden shall return. . .”

Anderson turns the strange hairy fruit in his hand. It carries no stink of cibiscosis. No scab of blister rust. No graffiti of genehack weevil engraves its skin. The world’s flowers and vegetables and trees and fruits make up the geography of Anderson Lake’s mind, and yet nowhere does he find a helpful signpost that leads him to identification.

Ngaw. A mystery.

You can read the full chapter, along with other sample chapters, online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: As I mentioned above, The Windup Girl is a full length novel set in the world of two of Paolo Bacigalupi’s prior, award winning short stories (the “Windup Stories”). Even cooler is, these stories are available for free download via the book’s page on Night Shade Books. You can check out the PDF version HERE.

Also, you may or may not have heard that Paolo Bacigalupi is making his first foray into the world of Young Adult novels this year! Check out his forthcoming title, Ship Breaker.

Set initially in a future shanty town in America’s Gulf Coast region, where grounded oil tankers are being dissembled for parts by a rag tag group of workers, we meet Nailer, a teenage boy working the light crew, searching for copper wiring to make quota and live another day. The harsh realities of this life, from his abusive father, to his hand to mouth existence, echo the worst poverty in the present day third world. When an accident leads Nailer to discover an exquisite clipper ship beached during a recent hurricane, and the lone survivor, a beautiful and wealthy girl, Nailer finds himself at a crossroads. Should he strip the ship and live a life of relative wealth, or rescue the girl, Nita, at great risk to himself and hope she’ll lead him to a better life. This is a novel that illuminates a world where oil has been replaced by necessity, and where the gap between the haves and have-nots is now an abyss. Yet amidst the shadows of degradation, hope lies ahead.

Verdict: A thoughtful, well-written and provocative examination of a dystopian future – the world run aground thanks to collective greed. Though it feels somewhat like a protracted short story and it certainly isn’t Steampunk, it’s an unquestionably strong debut, and I look forward to more from Mr. Bacigalupi in the near future.

Rating: 7 – Very Good

Reading Next: Airborn by Kenneth Oppel

Title: The Warlord of the Air

Author: Michael Moorcok

Genre: Sci-fi (Proto-Steampunk)

Publisher: DAW / Hunt Barnard Printing (UK)
Publication Date: 1971 / 1974
Paperback: 156 pages

Suppose that a few of our present inventions had been made earlier, and others not discovered at all? How would the last century have evolved differently? This is the story of Oswald Bastable, a Victorian captain who found himself in such alternate worlds. It is based on notes handed down to Michael Moorcock from his great-grandfather. It’s a story of a world of empires secured by airships, and a Chinese genius who invented the means of overthrowing the West’s power!

Stand alone or series: First in the A Nomad of the Time Streams trilogy but this story is self-contained (sort of) and can be read as a stand alone.

Why did I read the book: The Warlord of the Air is generally listed as one of the seminal works which inspired the Steampunk sub-genre. In my quest to learn about all things Steampunk, I had to check it out.

How did I get the book: The book is currently out of print but is easily found on Amazon marketplace. I paid £0.01 for it (plus shipping).

Review:

The Warlord of the Air begins with an editor’s note in which the author, Michael Moorcok, tells of the discovery of a manuscript said to have been written by his own grandfather. This manuscript is the basics for the book as it follows Moorcock’s grandfather’s narrative as he describes his journey in 1903, to Rowe Island, in the Indian Ocean where he goes to recover from a nervous breakdown, away from civilization. Soon he is overcome with boredom, and Moorcock finds himself taking an interest on a young man who is kicked off a boat and seems to be in need for help with his clothes in ruins, in an obvious state of confusion and possibly addicted to opium. After taking a bath and being fed, the man presents himself as Oswald Bastable, and claims to have come from the year 1973, having just returned to 1903. Returned being the key word here as Bastable is a contemporary (or is he?) of Moorcock which was temporarily dislocated in time. His narrative, told in first person to Moocock as he writes it down is the meats and bones of The “Warlord of the Air” .

Bastable’s adventures begin in 1902 when, as a member of the British Army he is part of an expedition sent to deal with Sharan Kang, a mysterious religious figure who has been causing trouble in India. He is invited to visit the mystical temple of Teku Benga, where no westerner has set foot ever; after a confrontation with Kang’s men, he gets lost until an earthquake knocks him out. When he comes to, he finds himself alone in tattered clothes in the now completely destroyed temple. In the desolate ruins, at the top of the Himalayas, Bastable can’t find an explanation to what happened nor a way to get out. Rescue comes in the form of a huge airship – a sight he has never seen in his life. He soon discovers he has somehow ended up in 1973 – but not the 1973 that we, readers know to have happened.

In this reality, the airship he boards, is a Zepellin of the Indian Air Force, part of the British Empire. Imperialism is still very much alive, the First World War never happened and the world is largely at peace. London is clean and everybody is happy and healthy and well-off. Bastable is at first enamoured with this perfect vision and embodiment of Utopia; especially when, after joining the army once more (feigning amnesia he is able to explain how he doesn’t have an identity in this timeline) he observes that all colonies live happily under the rule of a benevolent empire.

When he is kicked out of the army (after a fight with an American called Reagan – that Reagan) , he joins another air crew who unbeknownst to him are sympathetic to the political claims that the Empire oppress the nations of the world into complacence. Bastable’s patriotism is put to test and finally crumbles down as the idea of a kind, paternalistic Empire which brings health and education to its children in the less developed colonies is turned in its head as the raging racism and oppression underneath shows their ugly faces. The consequences of uniting with the rebels – amongst them an aged Lenin who never saw the Russian Revolution take place and General O.T. Shaw, a Chinese leader who is the Warlord of the Air of the title – are catastrophic and send him right back in time and to point where the story starts.

The Warlord of the Air packs a lot of story and action in its few 150 pages or so. And as an adventurous Sci-fi romp, it is undoubtedly immensely entertaining. The idea of time travel is whole appealing to me as a reader – especially in this case, of a time traveller who doesn’t go from the future to the past but from the past to the future. Except that this future is still very much rooted in the past that he knows – the political and economical ideology of the Victorians as well as the Steam-powered technology which are still very much prevalent. The assumption is that once Imperialism takes roots, there is no further evolution.

It is as though the world is stuck in the past – part of the political, economical and sociological implications of a world that did not went through its “natural” history – proof of that is that you can’t stop history and regardless of who are the culprits, certain things will inevitably, come to happen. As cryptic as this may sound (in an effort to not spoil the ending) , that is the exact reason why the book fell short for me. For the less than subtle message towards the (rushed) ending as well as the caricaturised secondary characters who are part of it.

To sum up: the premise of the story is very cool and Bastable’s arc as someone lost not only in time but ideologically lost as well is very interesting; the ideas presented and the feeling of anti-imperialism and anti-racism expressed are ideas I wholly embrace even if those issues are simplistically handled in the end.

Now: it is Steampunk? The Warlord of the Air is actually regarded as proto-Steampunk. Published before term was even coined, I can see why the book makes most of essential lists. It has the right setting, the right technology and the right ideology. It has both the Steam and the Punk. I highly recommend it if you want to learn more about the sub-genre.

Notable Quotes/ Parts: Utopia:

In this London there were no ugly billboards, no illuminated advertisements, no tasteless slogans and, as we climbed into the steam-brougham and began to move along one of the ramps, I realised that there were no seedy slums of the sort found in many parts of the London I had known in 1902. Poverty had been banished! Disease had been exiled! Misery must surely be unkown!

Additional Thoughts: Oswald Bastable’s adventures through time as he goes back and forth in different time streams continue for two other books The Land Leviathan and The Steel Tsar

The desperation of Bastable’s bizarre fate runs deep, for an unpredictable time warp thrusts him into strange worlds, all parallel to his own, and yet different. Throughout all this, Bastable can remain steadfast in his determination to reach his own time, because of his faith in one woman, inextricably bound to him in all dimensions of Time, and his belief in the existence of a secret Utopian citadel. But there is one thing that may have the power to come between Bastable and his goal — a battle of Armageddon so horrifying in its believability that it almost obliterates his ability to keep searching.

In the Russian sector of a battle-torn multiverse, Captain Oswald Bastable confronts the mythical agents of destruction and death. In his epical adventures in the alternative twentieth century, Chrononaut Bastable, member of the League of Temporal Adventurers, has crossed and re-crossed many different time-streams.. The Steel Tsar finds him travelling backwards in time from a shell-shocked Singapore to a Tsarist Empire seething with conflict, and preyed on by motley bands of rogues and adventurers. Here he meets up with fellow-time-traveller Miss Una Persson, and together they change the course of history whose mythical deeds go beyond the boundaries of everyday imagination and glitter in the exuberant land of the eternal present.

The trilogy has been collected in a one volume edition, which has finally, been given a cool cover.

Verdict: With time travel and adventure, in a neo-Victorian setting, I highly recommend this to fans of Steampunk who would like to understand the history of the genre.

Rating: 7 – Very Good

Reading Next: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Alan Moore

Title: Incarceron

Author: Catherine Fisher

Genre: Dystopia, Speculative Fiction, Young Adult

Publisher: Dial (US) / Hodder Children’s Books (UK)
Publication Date: January 2010 / May 2007
Hardcover: 448 Pages (US)

Incarceron is a prison so vast that it contains not only cells, but also metal forests, dilapidated cities, and vast wilderness. Finn, a seventeen-year-old prisoner, has no memory of his childhood and is sure that he came from Outside Incarceron. Very few prisoners believe that there is an Outside, however, which makes escape seems impossible.

And then Finn finds a crystal key that allows him to communicate with a girl named Claudia. She claims to live Outside—she is the daughter of the Warden of Incarceron, and doomed to an arranged marriage. Finn is determined to escape the prison and Claudia believes she can help him. But they don’t realize that there is more to Incarceron than meets the eye, and escape will take their greatest courage and cost more than they know. Because Incarceron is alive.

Stand alone or series: Book 1 of the Incarceron Series

How did I get this book: Review Copy from the publisher

Why did I read this book: Incarceron has garnered a lot of buzz online – I’ve been seeing widgets for it all over the place. Not to mention, it’s a dystopian YA novel, about a living prison. How could I resist? I immediately began hounding folks for a review copy.

Review:

Incarceron is a vast, encompassing prison. Instead of steel bars and cell blocks, however, Incarceron is a world in itself; it is a metal world where nothing is created nor wasted, where stars and sky are near forgotten fairy tales, where all live in a cutthroat world, fighting for food and survival. Even more than that, Incarceron is alive – it observes everything that goes on within its walls, it’s red seeing eye omnipresent to the mortals within. Incarceron is all they have ever known – although there is a myth about one man, a prophet named Sapphique, that was the only one able to escape to the mysterious outside.

Finn is a child of Incarceron, remembering only when he woke up in a dark, squalid cell two years ago, mad with fear and lost memories. Now seventeen, Finn has been forced by circumstance to join a crew of “Scum” – that is, ruthless thieves and bandits, that call themselves the Comitatus. One day, Finn makes a shocking discovery – a crystal key, whose design matches the tattoo on Finn’s wrist. The key, which Finn and those around him believe could be the way out of Incarceron, also turns out to be a communication device, and Finn finds himself able to speak to a mysterious girl, named Claudia.

On the outside of Incarceron, Claudia is the daughter of the Incarceron’s Warden, and set to marry the prince of the realm. Frustrated with her bleak future and the cutthroat political games in which she finds herself ensnared, Claudia is determined to prove that the monarchy is corrupt, and to find a way to instigate change in the static, innovation-fearing kingdom – and the way she plans to do this, is to discover Incarceron’s secrets. When she finds a crystal key in her father’s study, she finds a link to a world that is nothing like the ideal utopia that Incarceron was supposed to be – and she and Finn must work together to bring him out of Incarceron, and into the “real” world.

And with Incarceron itself watching, waiting, and toying with its inhabitants, Claudia and Finn’s task is no small feat.

Incarceron is an amazing feat of a novel from author Catherine Fisher. The book, actually initially published in the UK back in 2007, is part dystopian critique, part science fiction parable, part fantasy. This is not an easy blend to pull together, but Ms. Fisher does it with aplomb. Her world building in particular is PHENOMENAL. I loved the oddity of advanced technology in a royalty-imposed archaic time period – the monarchs and nobles emulate the late medieval western model of courts, down to the dress, castles and mannerisms. But this is not a medieval society! Claudia’s world has incredibly advanced technology, from “skin wands” to give humans the permanent appearance of youth to programable holograms, to artificial intelligence and reality-shifting tools. Despite this technology, however, those in power have resisted any change, abandoning their advanced tools in order to embrace the ways of old, in an attempt to control the population – which rings as very familiar. There’s also Incarceron itself, which is a whole new world on its own. Initially an experiment to create a perfect world for the unruly masses, of course went wrong. The concept of a utopia that is actually a dystopia isn’t really a new one, but this Ms. Fisher writes it so well, and with such awesome variation within Incarceron itself, of A.I. gone horribly awry, it hardly matters.

In terms of plotting, Incarceron is also surefooted, as it packs in revelation upon revelation, surprises, and twists at an expert pace. I could not put Incarceron down – Ms. Fisher is one hell of a storyteller.

Finally, what is a book without its characters? The cast of this novel is similarly well-rounded, though at first glance, they are very standard, fantasy archetypes. There’s the rebellious, intelligent (and beautiful) future queen; the orphaned boy thief with a heart of gold and a destiny to save the land; the calm, wise teacher; the jealous, handsome, morally-ambiguous best friend; the ragamuffin tag along girl; the zealous, prophecy-driven priest; the power-usurping, beautifully cruel queen; etc. These are very familiar character molds, no doubt about it – but as Incarceron progresses, the characters are shown in different ways. Not one thing is exactly how it seems, and that goes for characters as well. In particular, I loved the character of Claudia’s father – the cold, immutable, powerful Warden of Incarceron, Lord John Arlex. I loved the insights to his character throughout the book, especially in his strained relationship with Claudia’s tutor, Jared, and the Warden’s terrified – yet defiant – daughter, Claudia. (There’s one particular scene near the end of the book between these three characters that is made of mind-blowing awesomeness.)

So far as protagonists go, Claudia is as plucky as they come, but it is Finn that captures hearts with his vision, his trusting friendships, and his courage. The other character I truly enjoyed is the morally ambiguous Keiro – handsome and power-hungry, different characters have different interpretations of Keiro. Finn, as his oath-brother, is tied to Keiro by an unbreakable bond – should one of them die, it is the other’s responsibility to avenge them at any cost. And, as a loyal friend, Finn knows Keiro’s flaws, his hunger for power, his recklessness, but he also believes that underneath it all, Keiro would do anything for Finn. Other characters, however, are not so generous, as Keiro is seen as a rogue, out only to use Finn to get him out of Incarceron, no matter the cost. In any case, Keiro is a character that isn’t easy to peg, and I’m excited to see what happens with him in the next book.

With its breathtaking world-building, admirable characters, and exceptional plotting, Incarceron is a dystopian, sci-fi gem. I loved it, and I cannot wait for the next book in the series, Sapphique!

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

Finn had been flung on his face and chained to the stone slabs of the transitway.

His arms, spread wide, were weighted with links so heavy, he could barely drag his wrists off the ground. His ankles were tangled in a slithering mass of metal, bolted through a ring in the pavement. He couldn’t raise his chest to get enough air. He lay exhausted, the stone icy against his cheek.

But the Civicry were coming at last.

He felt them before he heard them; vibrations in the ground, starting tiny and growing until they shivered in his teeth and nerves. Then noises in the darkness, the rumble of migration trucks, the slow hollow clang of wheel rims. Dragging his head around, he shook dirty hair out of his eyes and saw how the parallel grooves in the floor arrowed straight under his body. He was chained directly across the tracks.

Sweat slicked his forehead. Gripping the frosted links with one glove he hauled his chest up and gasped in a breath. The air was acrid and smelled of oil.

It was no use yelling yet. They were too far off and wouldn’t hear him over the clamor of the wheels until they were well into the vast hall. He would have to time it exactly. Too late, and the trucks couldn’t be stopped, and he would be crushed. Desperately, he tried to avoid the other thought. That they might see him and hear him and not even care.

Lights.

Small, bobbing, handheld lights. Concentrating, he counted nine, eleven, twelve; then counted them again to have a number that was firm, that would stand against the nausea choking his throat.

Nuzzling his face against the torn sleeve for some comfort he thought of Keiro, his grin, the last mocking little slap as he’d checked the lock and stepped back into the dark. He whispered the name, a bitter whisper: “Keiro.”

Vast halls and invisible galleries swallowed it. Fog hung in the metallic air. The trucks clanged and groaned.

He could see people now, trudging. They emerged from the darkness so muffled against the cold, it was hard to tell if they were children or old, bent women. Probably children—the aged, if they kept any, would ride on the trams, with the goods. A black-and-white ragged flag draped the leading truck; he could see its design, a heraldic bird with a silver bolt in its beak.

“Stop!” he called. “Look! Down here!”

The grinding of machinery shuddered the floor. It whined in his bones. He clenched his hands as the sheer weight and impetus of the trucks came home to him, the smell of sweat from the massed ranks of men pushing them, the rattle and slither of piled goods. He waited, forcing his terror down, second by second testing his nerve against death, not breathing, not letting himself break, because he was Finn the Starseer, he could do this. Until from nowhere a sweating panic erupted and he heaved himself up and screamed, “Did you hear me! Stop! Stop!”

They came on.

The noise was unbearable. Now he howled and kicked and struggled, because the terrible momentum of the loaded trucks would slide relentlessly, loom over him, darken him, crush his bones and body in slow inevitable agony.

You can read the full excerpt online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: As I mentioned above, Incarceron was originally published in the UK in 2007. Similarly, the sequel to Incarceron has already been published in the UK, though it makes its way to the US early next year. Here’s the skinny:

Finn has escaped from the terrible living Prison of Incarceron, but its memory torments him, because his brother Keiro is still inside. Outside, Claudia insists he must be king, but Finn doubts even his own identity. Is he the lost prince Giles? Or are his memories no more than another construct of his imprisonment? And can you be free if your friends are still captive? Can you be free if your world is frozen in time? Can you be free if you don’t even know who you are? Inside Incarceron, has the crazy sorcerer Rix really found the Glove of Sapphique, the only man the Prison ever loved. Sapphique, whose image fires Incarceron with the desire to escape its own nature. If Keiro steals the glove, will he bring destruction to the world? Inside. Outside. All seeking freedom. Like Sapphique.

Also, if you haven’t seen it yet, check out the cool book trailer for Incarceron:

Verdict: A truly awesome blend of science fiction and fantasy in a future dystopian setting, Incarceron is a book not to be missed. Easily one of my favorite reads of 2010 thus far, and recommended to all.

Rating: 8 – Excellent

Reading Next: Black Magic Sanction by Kim Harrison

Title: Impact

Author: Douglas Preston

Genre: Science Fiction, Thriller

Publisher: Forge
Publication Date: January 2010
Hardcover: 368 pages

Wyman Ford is tapped for a secret expedition to Cambodia… to locate the source of strangely beautiful gemstones that do not appear to be of this world.

A brilliant meteor lights up the Maine coast… and two young women borrow a boat and set out for a distant island to find the impact crater.

A scientist at the National Propulsion Facility discovers an inexplicable source of gamma rays in the outer Solar System. He is found decapitated, the data missing.

High resolution NASA images reveal an unnatural feature hidden in the depths of a crater on Mars… and it appears to have been activated.

Sixty hours and counting.

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel (although a protagonist from this novel has been seen in a prior Douglas Preston novel)

How did I get this book: Review Copy from the publisher

Why did I read this book: I’m sticking to my vow to read more of different genres, and this sci-fi thriller was a good way to continue fulfilling that resolution. It’s a pre-apocalyptic type story about some crazyass gamma rays being beamed at Earth. How could I NOT be excited about this book?

Review:

One starry night in a small Maine fishing town, a meteorite races across the dark sky in a brilliant streak. The newspapers theorize that the meteorite hit somewhere in the Atlantic, and while a physically stunning event, is nothing more than another mundane space rock falling to earth. Abbey Straw, an intelligent, enterprising young woman, however, has other ideas. Out photographing the Andromeda Galaxy with her new Celestron six-inch Cassegrain telescope, she captures the meteroite on film – and using that image, she extrapolates the meteroite’s impact location, which was not in the ocean, but on a small island off the coast. Eagerly, Abbey sets out to find the meteroite, with the intent to sell it to the highest bidder. On the other side of the globe, ex-CIA agent Wyman Ford signs on for a contract job to Cambodia to find the whereabouts of a mysterious new mine, responsible for flooding the international market with new, and extremely deadly, gemstones called “honeys.” Meanwhile, an ambitious and intelligent scientist named Mark Corzo has just received a promotion to head a division of the National Propulsion Facility’s Mars Mapping Orbiter project, following the professional demise and murder of his former mentor. When Corzo receives a package in the mail from that same mentor, sent just days before his death, Corzo becomes consumed with shocking new data concerning gamma rays – originating from Mars. Abbey, Ford and Corzo’s lives are on a collision course, with one of the most important and most dangerous discoveries in the history of mankind.

I hadn’t had the chance to read any of Douglas Preston’s work – neither on his solo work nor his popular co-authored books with Lincoln Child (I have, however, seen and loved Relic). Impact marked my first exposure to the bestselling mainstream thriller/speculative fiction author, and, while I’m not jumping out of my seat, I generally had a positive experience with this novel. The prose is clean (if somewhat simple), and the story fast-paced and easy to keep straight, following the standard separate characters whose fates eventually merge storytelling technique to build tension. What I liked the most about Impact – what caught my eye in the first place – was the premise (unidentified object falling to earth) and the overall idea for the story (well, at least the science fiction element). Rather than being another meteorite/asteroid/comet on the way to decimate life on earth as seen in many apocalyptic works (see Additional Thoughts below for a list), Impact takes a slightly different, unexpected route. The object seen streaking across the Maine sky is no mere clump of ancient space rock, but something infinitely more sinister. While the SF and actual science on the whole is more than a little wobbly (e.g. the open acceptance of miniature black holes rampaging through our solar system and more than a few questionable applications of astrophysics), it’s not really that big a deal as Impact is far more of a summer blockbuster movie than hard science fiction tome. Which is perfectly cool by me.

With the good, however, comes a lot of the mediocre. The characters are decidedly flat and really stretch the limits of credulity. Abbey, the small town adventurer girl, is also a pre-med Princeton dropout (forced to leave after losing her scholarship when she failed Organic Chem) who “took a few astronomy classes” and knows how to calculate the origin and trajectory of any body from outer space (amongst myriad other technical and scientific skills), in addition to being a master sailor and intrepid adventurer. Then there’s Ford, the ex-CIA op who is your typical Jason Bourne-grade badass (with a heart and troubled conscience) – smart, dashing, dangerous, unbeatable in hand to hand combat, etc, etc, etc. There’s also a huge plausibility problem in terms of timing (how did the gem mining in Cambodia become so lucrative in such a short period of time, just days after the meteorite strike?), in the chain of command seen at the NPF (the fictional equivalent of JPL) and in the US government in general. There are more than a few Jerry Bruckheimer-esque scenes involving the president and policy makers -heck, the whole book is very Armageddon! Which isn’t always a bad thing, but unfortunately it just did not work for me here in book form because…well, the thing that disappointed the most with Impact was how there was so much time spent on mindless and almost completely unnecessary action scenes, with barely any focus on the only true interesting part of the book (that would be the science fiction element). The questions that the gamma ray analysis raises, the implications of these scientific findings are brushed away in a few scant conversations, replaced instead with car chases, flooding boats, and bar shootouts. It’s just not really my thing, and I found myself getting impatient with each chase scene.

That said, I should mention that I loved the ending – which was a bit anticlimactic, but in a good way (at least in my opinion). While I was disappointed in the disproportionate nature of the book, with the interesting parts only filling about a third of the final product, the writing is solid and I can understand why adrenaline junkies or more action-craving readers would be thrilled with Impact.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

The trick would be to slip in the side door and get the box up the back stairs without making a sound. The house was two hundred years old and you could hardly take a step without a ?urry of creaks and groans. Abbey Straw eased the back door shut and tiptoed across the carpeted hallway to the landing. She could hear her father puttering around the kitchen, Red Sox game low on the radio.

Her arms hugging the box, she set her foot on the ?rst step, eased down her weight, then the next step, and the next. She skipped the fourth step—it shrieked like a banshee—and put her weight on the ?fth, the sixth, the
seventh…. And just as she thought she was home free, the step let out a crack like a gunshot, followed by a long, dying groan.

Damn.

You can read the first two chapters online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: Though Impact doesn’t really qualify, there are quite a few books and films that embrace the ‘celestial bodies slamming into the Earth’ (or the Moon, or some Earthly neighbor) apocalypse. If you’re looking for some books in this, I highly recommend Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle’s Lucifer’s Hammer (comet slamming into Earth).

Other books worth checking out are “The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion” by Edgar Allan Poe (short story again about a comet), When Worlds Collide by Philip Wylie and Edwin Balmer (death of Earth by rogue planet), and of course, one of my personal favorites, YA novels Life As We Knew It and the dead and the gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer (in which an asteroid hits the moon and changes its orbit, unleashing disastrous, apocalyptic effects on Earth).

Verdict: Great premise and original idea, but somewhat lacking in the execution. Still, I enjoyed some parts of Impact and recommend it to any thriller fans looking for a light dose of science fiction.

Rating: 6 – Good

Reading Next: Blackbringer by Laini Taylor

Title: The Left Hand of Darkness

Author: Ursula K. LeGuin

Genre: Science Fiction, Fantasy

Publisher: Ace (US) / Orbit (UK)
Publication Date: 1969 (US) / November 2009 (UK)
Hardcover: 272 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel

How did I get this book: Review copy from the publisher (Orbit UK)

Why did I read this book: The Left Hand of Darkness is a book that I started and attempted to read in high school – but it’s one of those books that I’d never finished. So, when I received a copy in the mail courtesy of Orbit to celebrate the book’s 40th anniversary, I decided that there was no better time to dive in and finally finish this classic science fiction novel.

Summary: (from Orbit UK)
Genly Ai is a diplomat of sorts, sent to observe the inhabitants of the snowbound planet of Winter. But the isolated, androgynous people are suspicious of this strange, single-gendered visitor. Tucked away in a remote corner of the universe, they have no knowledge of space travel or of life beyond their own world. So, bringing news of a vast coalition of planets they are invited to join, he is met with fear, mistrust and disbelief.

But also something more. For Genly Ai, who sees himself as a bringer of the truth, it is a bittersweet irony that he will discover truths about himself and, in the snow-shrouded strangeness of Winter, find both love and tragedy…

Review:

Genly Ai, an Envoy of the federation of human worlds called the Ekumen, documents his experiences on the cold, alien world of Winter (or “Gethen” to the local people) in The Left Hand of Darkness. For the first two years of his mission in the kingdom of Karhide, Ai is met with suspicion, disbelief, and overwhelming fear. The people of Gethen are not only mistrusting of what they perceive of as tall tales of ships that fly and worlds beyond their own, but they are also nervous as to Ai’s physiology too. Every person on Gethen is an androgyne, without an assigned gender save for once a month when they enter kemmer (in a hormonal cycle similar to a female’s monthly period) – and in kemmer, a Gethenian can assume either the female or male gender at complete random (i.e. someone who was a female one month can be a male in the next monthly kemmering). Genly Ai, with his single, permanent male sexuality is branded as a “pervert,” or an anomaly. On the most basic, fundamental level, neither the people of Gethen nor Ai can understand each other.

When the King of Karhide brands his advisor Estraven, the person who has been introducing Ai to Karhide society, as a traitor, Ai’s diplomatic mission is in serious jeopardy. Bitterly unsuccessful in convincing Karhide to open their world to Ekumen’s benevolent mission, Ai turns to the more bureaucratic nation to the north, called Orgoreyn. There, he meets once again with Estraven, and once again is rejected and met with resistance by the corrupt, ambitious Orgoreyn leaders. When Ai is betrayed and thrown into an Orgoreyn prison camp, however, he is rescued by Estraven – who, against all odds, believes in Ai’s message about worlds and technology beyond the starry void. Together, Estraven and Ai travel across the Gobrin Ice (a vast glacier of frozen cold) to reach Karhide once more, so that Ai can try yet again to convince the kingdom to join Ekumen. Along the way, Ai finally learns to trust and to see the Gethen people, through Estraven, for who – and what – they really are.

Reading The Left Hand of Darkness forty years after its publication is an enlightening experience. There is no denying that this is an important, seminal work of fiction – especially in the science fiction arena, as it challenges human notions of gender, gender roles, and sex. What happens when sex is completely removed from the equation? In a world where gender is a fluid, ever-changing feature, where prescribed gender roles do not exist, what remains? We struggle with Genly Ai as he attempts to understand how Gethenians are both male and female at the same time, just as we struggle with Estraven as s/he tries to understand Ai and his Ekumen ways. It’s almost impossible to truly review this book without delving into some in-depth essay – such is how incredible, how much of a paradigm shift The Left Hand of Darkness is to a reader’s mindframe. From a pure literary standpoint, the novel is written beautifully (if somewhat confusing and requires a lot of its readers), with a deceptively straightforward plot. Interspersed throughout the main storyline (which alternates between Ai and Estraven’s perspectives) are other stories: tales from Gethen myth and field records from Ai’s predecessor. Each tale and each analysis provides invaluable insight to the novel, adding another layer of color to an incredibly well-researched and well-developed world. There are fireside tales about doomed lovers and future-seers, and there are postulations about the origins of the Gethenians and human genetic experimentation. The sheer scope of ideas that The Left Hand of Darkness encompasses is…mind-boggling.

That said, The Left Hand of Darkness is not an easy book to read. Ms. LeGuin’s prose is descriptive and graceful, but requires a high level of concentration and memory to understand and keep straight the different peoples and customs throughout. At less than 300 pages, The Left Hand of Darkness is nevertheless full to the brim with challenging ideas, themes, and concepts – not only is gender examined at length, but so too are political systems, religion, and the facets of human nature itself. This is a challenging book, and one that could spark a number of essays and in-depth analyses. It might not be sensational or easy to pick up and read in a single sitting (because, let’s face it – there is a LOT to digest here) – but that’s not a bad thing. Some books are meant to be savored, over time, in doses.

The Left Hand of Darkness is the kind of book that can only get better upon a second, third, fifteenth, reading. It’s a product of its time (published in the same year the Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walked on the moon), but more impressively, it stands the test of time. The Left Hand of Darkness is just as important – if not more important – today as it was in 1969. Revolutionary, insightful, and thought-provoking, this remains a classic novel in the SF canon for good reason. This is a novel to be read, cherished, discussed, and dissected by all.

Notable Quotes/Parts: You can read full excerpts of Chapters 9 & 10 online at Ursula K. LeGuin’s website, HERE.

Additional Thoughts: Now, a bit about the 40th anniversary edition of the book. This edition of The Left Hand of Darkness is probably the ONE to buy – it includes an insightful foreword from Ursula LeGuin, the Gethenian calendar and clock, a Karhidish glossary and songs from the domain of Estre, the related short story “Coming of Age in Karhide,” and maps of Gethen itself. If you’re a sucker for extras – as I certainly am – this is the edition for you.

Verdict: If you haven’t read it, you should. If you have read it, you should read it again. This Hugo and Nebula award winning novel is an incredible feat of storytelling; it is a classic.

Rating: 10 – A Classic. Could it be any other way?

Reading Next: Three Days to Dead by Kelly Meding

Today, we give you a double-shot of hard science fiction goodness! Recently, I’ve discovered the wonderful, amazing, superlative SF author that is Stephen Baxter. After reading and loving his apocalyptic duology, Flood and Ark (with the latter as my favorite read of 2009), I immediately dived into the author’s backlist.

Titan (Book 2 in the NASA Series)

Publisher: Voyager (UK) / EOS (US)
Publication Date: July 1997 (UK) / October 1998 (US)
Paperback: 676 pages (US)

Stand alone or series: Technically book 2 in Stephen Baxter’s NASA Trilogy, but each book in the series may be read as a stand alone novel.

How did I get this book: Bought

Summary: (from HarperCollins.com)
Humankind’s greatest–and last–adventure!

Possible signs of organic life have been found on Titan, Saturn’s largest moon. A group of visionaries led by NASA’s Paula Benacerraf plan a daring one-way mission that will cost them everything. Taking nearly a decade, the billion-mile voyage includes a “slingshot” transit of Venus, a catastrophic solar storm, and a constant struggle to keep the ship and crew functioning. But it is on the icy surface of Titan itself that the true adventure begins. In the orange methane slush the astronauts will discover the secret of life’s origins and reach for a human destiny beyond their wildest dreams.

Review:

One of the great things about reading older science fiction novels is how they have become “alternate histories” of a sort – George Orwell’s 1984, Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, and Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot stories were all set in a specific future; dates that have passed, and future visions unfulfilled. Stephen Baxter’s Titan is another science fiction to join these ranks – written in 1997 and imagining a future after the Cassini-Huygens mission to Saturn & Titan in 2004/2005. Some of Titan is downright freaky – Mr. Baxter’s predictions about the surface of the moon, his understanding of the physical, engineering restraints on getting a manned shuttle to the outer solar system, and eerie prescience in his prediction of Columbia’s crash are uncanny. Titan encompasses the predicted findings of the Cassini mission and an alternate history in which NASA struggles with the Air Force and political-religious fundamentalism to launch one last great mission before the American space program becomes grounded for the rest of the foreseeable future. There are international tensions between the United States and China, and the future of planet Earth in its entirety – thanks to human wastefulness and shortsightedness – is also examined.

After the Columbia malfunctions and crashes reentering Earth’s atmosphere, the future of NASA is in dire straits. With the 2008 election looming just a few years on the horizon and conservative, religious fundamentalist Senator Xavier Maclachlan a lock for the White House, Paula Benacerraf knows that NASA’s days – and effectively humanity’s days of space exploration – are numbered. But on the impassioned and just barely feasible dream of ambitious young JPL scientist Isaac Rosenberg and his hypothesis that there is life on Titan (based on readings from the Huygens probe), Benacerraf and a team of pilots and engineers make a last-ditch effort to put humans on a one-way, six-year-long transit mission to the distant, Saturn moon. Cobbling together a ship capable of the billion mile trip from the remaining space shuttles, Saturn V rockets, and Apollo landing modules, the mission launches amid myriad political tensions and technical difficulties. On the six-year trek to Saturn, however, the intrepid crew of five astronauts (including Benaceraff and Rosenberg) encounter unfathomable hardships – solar storms, micrometeoroids, a dwindling food source, and emotional, physical and mental deterioration. And by the time the crew reaches the frozen, smog-kissed surface of Titan, what they find – both on this alien world and in the massively delayed messages from Earth – is unlike anything they could have imagined.

Titan is hard science fiction at its best – even in this early novel, Stephen Baxter’s skill at blending hard science fiction with flawed characters in an engaging, challenging story is clear. At its heart, Titan is essentially an exploration story – like Sir Edmund Hillary’s ascent to the summit of Mt. Everest, Roald Amundsen’s expedition to the South Pole, or even Christopher Colombus’ discovery of The New World (or, perhaps, more fittingly Polynesians navigating balsa-log boats by the stars to unknown islands in an endless sea) – in the cold, void reaches of space. The plot lacks the sensationalism of Flood or Ark (or even Moonseed, below), but takes a more subdued tone throughout – and as such, the story moves a bit slowly. But “slow” does not mean “bad,” make no mistake of that – for Titan is a subtle, nihilistic, and yet surprisingly hopeful novel about life in the universe, and humanity’s place in it. Mr. Baxter examines a number of familiar SF themes in this novel (deep space travel, the question of life on other worlds), but the strength & novelty of Titan lies in his examination of less-familiar themes in the SF arena – such as the dangers of ignoring science and promoting self-insulation (on both a personal and national level) and the motivations for human exploration.

Add to all of these compelling elements Mr. Baxter’s vivid protagonists, whom are neither “good” nor “evil,” but rather are tangible, flawed human beings. Paula Benaceraff isn’t the most likable character, nor is scientist crew member Rosenberg – but their struggles and failings make them all the more human, at least to me as a reader. Though some of the secondary characters, in particular the McCarthy-esque MacLachlan and his USAF lackeys are less developed and more caricaturish, I appreciate Mr. Baxter’s ability to take risks. So many novels are constrained by this need to create “hero” characters (those that are either likable, redeemable or relatable characters), and that’s fine and dandy. But in a book like Titan (or in any of Mr. Baxter’s bleaker work, such as those I’ve read so far) these hero character simply don’t work. The reasoning is simple – Mr. Baxter writes rock-hard, cold, almost cruelly realistic science fiction. And in this realm of gritty reality, people tend to be…just that. People. Good, bad, bossy, inspiring, short-tempered, far-sighted, lacking social skills, whatever. And I like that.

I suppose the most important thing about Titan, the thing I loved the most about this book (and what I fell in love with in last year’s Ark & Flood) is the sense of scope that Stephen Baxter brings. Titan makes you realize just how small, how brief, and how precarious life is. Even though it’s a bleak novel, it’s also a wondrous one.

(And if there are any science geeks in the house, YES, this post was planned to coincide with the 5th anniversary of Huygens landing on Titan. You know you love it.)

Notable Quotes/Parts: Check out the first 129 (!!!) pages of Titan for free, thanks to Harper Collins’ awesome Browse Inside Feature:

Rating: 8 – Excellent

Moonseed (Book 3 in the NASA Series)

Publisher: Voyager (UK) / EOS (US)
Publication Date: August 1998 (UK) / October 1999 (US)
Paperback: 672 (US)

Stand alone or series: Technically book 3 in Stephen Baxter’s NASA trilogy, but each book can be read as a stand alone novel.

How did I get this book: Bought

Summary: (from HarperCollins.com)
It Eats Planets. And It’s Here.

It starts when Venus explodes into a brilliant cloud of dust and debris, showering Earth with radiation and bizarre particles that wipe out all the crops and half the life in the oceans, and fry the ozone layer. Days later, a few specks of moon rock kicked up from the last Apollo mission fall upon a lava crag in Scotland. That’s all it takes…

Suddenly, the ground itself begins melting into pools of dust that grow larger every day. For what has demolished Venus, and now threatens Earth itself, is part machine, part life-form: a nano-virus, dubbed Moonseed, that attacks planets.

Four scientists are all that stand between Moonseed and Earth’s extinction, four brilliant minds that must race to cut off the virus and save what’s left of Earth–a pulse-stopping battle for discovery that will lead them from the Earth’s inner core to a daredevil Moon voyage that could save, or damn, us all.

Review:

Following Voyage and Titan, Moonseed is the next and final novel in Stephen Baxter’s NASA series. Unlike Voyage, which imagines an alternate past for NASA and space exploration (if JFK wasn’t assassinated and the space program was encouraged to continue in the boom of ambition, even after man landed on the moon) or Titan, which imagines a future in which NASA is throttled by internal politics while a small crew of dedicated men and women make a last, desperate stab to reach Saturn’s largest moon, Moonseed is a good ol’ SF apocalyptic disaster novel. In Moonseed, we see the end of the Earth as we know it – but in Stephen Baxter’s hard SF fashion.

One day, a strange phenomenon occurs in the night sky. A pulsating, bright light indicates that somehow, inexplicably, Venus has exploded. In the short run and in the foreseeable future, scientists and policy makers are concerned about the radiation and how it will affect those on Earth, but are even more mystified as to what could have caused the complete destruction of a planet. Meanwhile, NASA Astronaut Geena Bourne divorces her husband (and something of a work colleague) Geologist Henry Meacher, who goes to Edinburgh to examine some 30 year old samples of moon rock from the Apollo missions. Henry’s analysis uncovers something unfathomable, however, linked to the death of Venus – a finding so immense and apocalyptic, it also means the end of the Earth itself. An ancient, silvery particulate from the moon rock, left over from the formation of the solar system, makes its way outside of the lab and infects Arthur’s Seat, inexplicably eating its way through the ground and waking the 350-million years dormant volcano. The silvery particulate, dubbed “moonseed” – akin to a nanovirus, consuming and converting olivine (one of the most abundant minerals on earth) into a crystalline form – spreads quickly, eating through the Earth’s mantle. As the full brunt of the catastrophe dawns on the rest of the world, Henry and his estranged wife Geena fight to create a future for humanity.

While Titan is a more subdued, slower moving novel that tackles huge ideas on a personal scale, Moonseed is a loud, fast-paced end-of-the-world apocalypse – the blockbuster, Roland Emmerich version, if you will. These are two very different books, but they are equally entertaining and thought provoking. Moonseed rings in at a hefty near-700 pages, but they fly by in an intoxicating blend of technical science, geology, and disaster movie style action. In many ways, the fast paced plot and action-heavy nature makes Moonseed a much more familiar and accessible novel than its predecessor. It certainly makes Moonseed a novel that anyone can pick up and read from cover to cover without getting bored with technicality (though there is a great deal about geology and moon-earth transit technology involved – which is fascinating stuff). In terms of writing, Mr. Baxter packs a hefty punch with Moonseed, with its strong plotting, topped off with a truly awesome – if completely implausible – ending (that I won’t spoil).

In terms of characters, however, I felt Moonseed was a little wanting. Henry and Geena, an estranged, frustrated couple certainly ring as real, flawed humans, but their motivations and reactions feel forced at times. And, as disaster films and fiction are wont to do, there is an exceptionally large cast of secondary characters in this book (cultists, Russian cosmonauts, hippie gemstone retailers, etc.), none of whom really get past their initial, cursory labels. There were also a number of (minor) plot holes I wish had been resolved – for example, there is a huge deal made of one character trying to escape a dying UK for the USA, but time and time again she is thwarted. Yet, a chapter later, she’s in the United States. How exactly did she get there? These are minor issues in comparison to the overarching plot, but are still noticable.

Despite these shortcomings, however, I found Moonseed to be, overall, a wonderful, un-put-down-able read. If pushed, I’d have to say that I preferred Titan, but Moonseed is fabulous in its own way. Definitely recommended, for apocalypse enthusiasts, hard SF fans, and laypeople alike.

Notable Quotes/Parts: You can read the first 126 pages of Moonseed online, thanks again to Harper Collins’ Browse Inside feature:

Rating: 7 – Very Good

Additional Thoughts:

I’m no scientist, but I do love reading about astronomy, astrophysics, and I have season passes set up for Naked Science, The Universe, Nova, and all of Michio Kaku’s documentaries on National Geographic, The History Channel, and The Science Channel. And if you’re an amateur astrophysics geek like myself, you might know that today marks the fifth anniversary of the Huygens probe landing on Titan (after its long journey, Huygens landed on the moon on January 14, 2005). Since then, our perceptions of Titan have changed – and you can read all about Cassini, Titan and Saturn online HERE, via JPL’s awesome interactive website.

You also may have heard that recently, NASA completed the LCROSS (Lunar CRater Observation and Sensing Satellite) mission to determine if there is water on our own Moon. The mission launched a Centaur upper stage rocket near the Moon’s south pole on October 9, 2009 – and successfully uncovered water. (Mr. Baxter’s predictions are eerily spot on, once again!) You can read all about LCROSS, the initial findings and the future goals of these findings online HERE at NASA’s website.

Reading Next: Starbound by Joe Haderman

Welcome to Smugglivus – Day 26!

Throughout this month, we will have daily guests – authors and bloggers alike – looking back at their favorite reads of 2009, and looking forward to events and upcoming books in 2010.

Today’s Guest: Jessica of the romance dedicated blog Racy Romance Reviews. Jessica is, in a word, incredible. Not only is she one of the smartest bloggers we know, she also writes some of the most engaging and thoughtful reviews and essays on teh internets. Today, Jessica will regale us with a review of a holiday movie (well….sort of, it’s a movie that came out during the holiday season at least!) – Avatar.

Please give a hand to Jessica!

It is 2154, and a US corporation has encamped on the planet Pandora, to mine its precious (for reasons not explained in the film) mineral, humorously called unobtainium. Thwarting the corporation’s efforts are the Na’vi, ten foot tall blue natives of Pandora who live in peace with the land and all the living creatures on it. There are two factions among the US invaders: the scientists, led by the tough but principled and caring Dr. Grace Augustine (a wonderful Sigourney Weaver), who hope to forge diplomatic ties with the Na’vi, and gain increased scientific and cultural knowledge that can be put to benign use. The other, SecFor, is the security division of the corporation, led by the trigger-happy Colonel Miles Quaritch. Quaritch channels Bill “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” Kilgore form Apocalypse Now in his disdain for the Na’vi and thirst for battle.

Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), is a disabled former Marine who is approached the the corporation to take up his dead twin brother’s work with Sr. Augustine. Avatars are remotely controlled bodies that are mixes of human and Na’vi DNA. Jake gets into what looks like a tanning bed, is hooked up somehow (this is never shown) and goes to sleep. When he waked up, his consciousness animates the avatar. I spent a lot of time wondering how this was supposed to work. Unlike the mind controlled humans in the Matrix, the avatars are real, but there is no physical connection between the human brain and the Avatar it controls.

It was odd to me at first that Cartesian dualism, a very problematic and outmoded theory of mind body interaction which holds that minds are immaterial (spiritual) substance that somehow interact with and control material, physical substance (bodies). In both philosophy and neuroscience, provided the core of the avatar technology in this film. However, as the film progresses, it is clear that Cameron is in deep sympathy with the Na’vi, whose religion is a kind of amalgam of Native American spirituality and Hinduism: everything is connected, a mysterious benevolent force animates all living things, there is peace, balance, and harmony in the natural world which should be respected and preserved, etc.

Everything in the plot of Avatar is completely predictable, most especially the fact that our hero, Jake, starts out as a grunt going along for the ride and ends up falling in love with the chief’s daughter and leading a rebellion against the US intruders. Other reviewers have called this film “Dances with Aliens” and the comparison to the Costner film is pretty apt. The bad guys are caricatures, not only the Colonel, but Giovanni Ribisi’s Parker Selfridge, the corporate honcho on Pandora. (And yeah, with names like “Grace” and “Selfridge”, Cameron is not leaving anything to chance). It is so apparent so quickly that the corporation would like nothing better than mass genocide that you wonder why they went to the trouble launching the multimillion dollar avatar program in the first place.

The messages in the film are obvious: biodiversity is good, imperialism is bad, we should take care of our natural resources, and we should be more aware of how our remote use weapons of war impacts its targets. as for the last, although I never felt quite as invested in the Na’vi as I was in the good guys in the Star Wars movies or the Lord of the Rings trilogy, there were a couple of moments of destruction and loss in this film that hit me almost as hard as, for example, the battle in The Two Towers at Helm’s Deep. This film also practices the old trick of cliche inversion: the natives are not only not scary violent savages, as the Colonel describes them in an early scene, but they are far superior to humans in many ways, especially morally. They don’t have any of the problems that beset such groups in real human history, such as sexism or autocratic rule, but are nonhierarchical, caring, and good.

Sci fi and fantasy can work when painting in these broad strokes, though, and the point of a movie like this isn’t a lesson in morality or politics. visually, as so many viewers have taken to the internet to proclaim, the film is pretty amazing. 3D is not a gimmick, with things popping out at you, but suffuses the film and just feels like the right way to see Pandora. Pandora is realized in tremendous detail, and the Na’vi never seem like crude Jar Jar Binks clones (Cameorn used real actors and them digitized their performances). While I think Camron maye have lazed a bit too adoringly over the planet (the movie, at 2 hours 40 minutes felt a bit too long), I thought it was breathtaking.

For me, the most compelling part of this movie was the character of Jake Sully, played by Australian actor Sam Worthington. I believe he will become the Luke Skywalker of this generation. I thought he was very natural, sweet, tough-hearted, and in a cougaraish confession, totally hot in both human and avatar form. I thought Jake’s disability — he became a paraplegic fighting in combat– was handled very well, and provided believable motivation for his participation in the avatar project. It’s true that as his avatar, Jake can run and climb, but that alone would not have motivated him to leave earth and take on the jungles of Pandora. Rather, in the future, while the technology is there to fix his legs, he doesn’t have the money.

The romance he develops with a Na’vi woman, voiced by Zoe Saldana (doing yeoman’s work in 2009 as girlfriend of all the best looking sci fi heroes) was very sweet and compelling, probably Cameron’s best romance since the Terminator’s Reese and Sarah Connor.

The score, by James Horner was distracting, ponderous, and reminded me of nothing so much as a dark ride at an Orlando theme park. But then, I hate Horner’s scores and always have. YMMV. The credits close over Leon Lewis sounding and singing a song, “I See You” that is so reminiscent of the Celine Dion theme to Titanic that I heard a number of people humming the tune to “My Heart Will Go On” as we left the theater.

Parental note: My school age boys have (surprisingly) no interest in Avatar, but they have seen Star Trek, Transformers 2, and G.I. Joe. I would say, if you don’t mind the much more frequent use of coarse language, Avatar is on a par in terms of violence and sexual content as any of those, and probably tamer on both counts.

In sum, Avatar was an entertaining, visually arresting film. It does not, in my opinion, qualify as epic. For sheer sci fi fun, Star Trek was my number one of 2009. But even a non-geek like me could sense — if not actually describe — the technical heights Cameron scaled to make it, and that alone is worth the (higher, thanks to those free glasses) price of admission.

Thank you Jessica! (Thea’s note: I freakin’ LOVED Avatar, and agree that everyone should up and see it. NOW.)

Next on Smugglivus: Kristi, The Story Siren

Title: The Devil’s Alphabet

Author: Daryl Gregory

Genre: Horror, Science Fiction

Publisher: Del Rey
Publication Date: November 24, 2009
Paperback: 400 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel

How did I get this book: ARC from the publisher (via Sacramento Book Review)

Why did I read this book: Funny story, actually. I received an ARC for In Great Waters by Kit Whitfield – another upcoming title from Del Rey. Imagine my surprise when I opened the ARC and found an entirely different book inside! Instead of Ms. Whitfield’s novel about an alternate speculative fiction history, I found The Devil’s Alphabet by Daryl Gregory. While I do wish I had the chance to read In Great Waters, I was still excited as The Devil’s Alphabet was one of my highly anticipated reads for the year! So, while a major ARC Fail, I still got some goodness out of the misprint.

Summary: (from amazon.com)
From Daryl Gregory, whose Pandemonium was one of the most exciting debut novels in memory, comes an astonishing work of soaring imaginative power that breaks new ground in contemporary fantasy.

Having fled shortly after the pandemic, Pax now returns to Switchcreek fifteen years later, following the suicide of Jo Lynn. What he finds is a town seething with secrets, among which murder may well be numbered. But there are even darker–and far weirder–mysteries hiding below the surface that will threaten not only Pax’s future but the future of the whole human race.

Review:

Pax is, on the surface, a very average guy. Living in Chicago, working in a restaurant, Pax lives an average, normal, life. Until one day, he receives a message from back home telling him that one of his best friends, Jo Lynn, has died of an apparent suicide. Frightened but determined to at least pay his respects, Pax leaves for his hometown of Switchcreek, Tennessee, even though it means returning to a past he has distanced himself from for fifteen years. For all that Pax seems normal, his past is decidedly extraordinary, tied to his small, remote hometown. Switchcreek was a place like any other, until one fateful day when its inhabitants were stricken by a strange disease – some would die immediately, many would change, and only a few – like Pax – would remain untouched. This mysterious illness, called Transcription Divergence Syndrome (TDS) later by the government, remains a mystery to the outside world – as soon as TDS appeared in the town of Switchcreek, it vanished from the face of the planet. TDS proved non-contagious and oddly contained only to those initial residents of the town – those who became large, elongated “Argos,” those who became strangely hairless and self-reproducing “Betas,” and those who became impossibly obese “Charlies.”

When Pax, a rare “skip” (one of those who remained human, and who has “skipped” town), returns, he discovers a past that has been patiently waiting for him, that refuses to give him back up to the outside world. Every small town has its share of dirty work and secrets, and soon Pax learns that Switchcreek is no exception – with the truth about the dead Jo Lynn as only the tip of the iceberg. Between the strange new divisions between the three conclaves within the changed town, a dangerous and lucrative narcotic drug, and the possible spread of TDS, Pax faces a hard past and an even more difficult future.

I really, really wanted to love The Devil’s Alphabet. The cover and the intriguing premise had me, hook line and sinker. A mysterious disease that transforms the inhabitants of a small town; family angst and lost friendships; an in-depth evaluation of the meaning of humanity – what’s not to love?! Then, when I learned this sophomore novel from Daryl Gregory made it on Publisher’s Weekly’s Top Sci-Fi/Fantasy/Horror picks for 2009, I was even more excited to dig in. Sadly, The Devil’s Alphabet never lives up to this promise, lacking the cohesion of its admittedly strong ideas and themes.

At first glance, The Devil’s Alphabet seems to be a coming-home drama with a Stephen King-like flair. There’s a murder mystery, an estranged father and son relationship turned upside down by a bizarre addiction, a government conspiracy, internal power struggles between the different conclaves of non-humans, and an overarching theory of alternate parallel universes. While these disparate ideas are fantastic on their own, when thrown together into a single book these separate parts never quite click. The Devil’s Apprentice isn’t sure what it wants to be, switching scale from small-town drama to pseudo-science fiction thriller, creating an overall effect that is awkwardly paced and slightly schizophrenic. Following different characters in their separate schemes, from Pax’s past ghosts (unleashed through his addiction to a pus secretion from his father’s Charlie-transformed body called “the vintage,” a drug that produces a narcotic effect), Deke’s frustration at the Argo inability to reproduce, to the deceptively ruthless machinations of town mayor Rhonda, the story stumbles and plods along unevenly throughout. The entire drug/addiction storyline with “the vintage” (produced only by elderly Charlie-transformed men) is essentially pointless (besides perhaps evoking a disgusting reversal of a child’s reliance on a parent’s bodily secretions – simply substitute mother’s milk with father’s heroin-filled pustules). The suicide/murder plot is hardly a mystery; certainly, it’s not enthralling enough to keep readers engaged and on their toes. The most intriguing plotline by far is in the novel’s second act, when a larger city in Ecuador suffers a massive outbreak of TDS – the government, doctors and folks in Switchcreek postulate what could have caused a non-contagious disease to suddenly flare up in an entirely separate location, and what the possible ramifications may be. Even with this intriguing thread, however, the story suffers from clunky dialogue and pseudo-sci-fi posturings about parallel mirroring universes. Moving along in more stalls than starts, I found myself growing bored and frustrated with The Devil’s Alphabet – which is all the more infuriating because there were teasing glimmers of greatness throughout.

Among these strengths are Mr. Gregory’s vivid descriptions and most especially, his dedicated characters. Mr. Gregory’s writing is richly detailed, conjuring great and terrible images of these different “monsters” that occupy Switchcreek, and breathing life into the formerly quiet small town itself. The idea of these four different species’ and how they interact together – argos, betas, charlies and humans – is expertly realized. The giant stature, grey skin and low timbered voices of the Argos, the wine-stained, selkie-like skins of the Betas, the grotesque fatness of the Charlies are evocative images that Mr. Gregory wields with undeniable skill. Even more impressive than his descriptions, however, is his dedication to character. Each character in The Devil’s Alphabet is nuanced and genuine, each working through their own quiet problems and issues. Deke, the massive Argo and Switchcreek “chief” tries to comfort his old friend Pax, and meanwhile grapples with he and his wife’s inability to reproduce (as no Argo seems to be capable of procreation). Rhonda, representative of the Charlie leadership, quietly runs the town with an iron fist, trying to even the scales for her own conclave. The Betas, with their asexual reproduction unchecked and devoted maternal instincts driven to the brink of fanaticism also pose an intriguing question of procreation and human nature. And, finally, there’s Pax. Human, flawed, forever changed Pax – he struggles with addiction, with emotional detachment, daddy issues, and the bonds of old friendship and love. Pax isn’t a particularly likable character, but he’s a solidly real one; weak, flawed, and undeniably human.

For all Mr. Gregory’s skill at writing characters and his genuinely intriguing ideas and themes, The Devil’s Alphabet never manages to integrate these parts into a convincing whole. There is more than enough here, however, to prove that Mr. Gregory is a talented new voice. I certainly will be looking forward to his next book – and hope that with time and experience, cohesion between plot and character will be achieved.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

Pax knew he was almost to Switchcreek when he saw his first argo.

The gray-skinned man was hunched over the engine of a decrepit, roofless pickup truck stalled hood-up at the side of the road. He straightened as Pax’s car approached, unfolding like an extension ladder. Ten or eleven feet tall, angular as a dead tree, skin the mottled gray of weathered concrete. No shirt, just overalls that came down to his bony knees. He squinted at Pax’s windshield.

Jesus, Pax thought. He’d forgotten how big they were.

He didn’t recognize the argo, but that didn’t mean much, for a lot of reasons. He might even be a cousin. The neighborly thing would be to pull over and ask the man if he needed help. But Pax was running late, so late. He fixed his eyes on the road outside his windshield, pretending not to see the man, and blew past without touching his brakes. The old Ford Tempo shuddered beneath him as he took the next curve.

The two-lane highway snaked through dense walls of green, the trees leaning into the road. He’d been gone for eleven years, almost twelve. After so long in the north everything seemed too lush, too overgrown. Subtropical. Turn your back and the plants and insects would overrun everything.

His stomach burned from too much coffee, too little food, and the queasy certainty that he was making a mistake. The call had come three days ago, Deke’s rumbling voice on his cell phone’s voicemail: Jo Lynn was dead. The funeral was on Saturday morning. Just thought you’d want to know.

Pax deleted the message but spent the rest of the week listening to it replay in his head. Dreading a follow-up call. Then two a.m. Saturday morning, when it was too late to make the service—too late unless he drove nonstop and the Ford’s engine refrained from throwing a rod—he tossed some clothes into a suitcase and drove south out of Chicago at 85 mph.

His father used to yell at him, Paxton Abel Martin, you’d be late for your own funeral! It was Jo who told him not to worry about it, everybody was late for their own funeral. Pax didn’t get the joke until she explained it to him. Jo was the clever one, the verbal one.

At the old town line there was a freshly painted sign: WELCOME TO SWITCHCREEK, TN. POPULATION 815. The barbed wire fence that used to mark the border was gone. The cement barriers had been pushed to the roadside. But the little guard shack still stood beside the road like an outhouse, abandoned and drowning in kudzu.

The way ahead led into what passed for Switchcreek’s downtown, but there was a shortcut to where he was going, if he could find it. He crested the hill, scanning the foliage to his right, and still almost missed it. He braked hard and turned into a narrow gravel drive that vanished into the trees. The wheels jounced over potholes and ruts, forcing him to slow down.

The road forked and he turned left automatically, knowing the way even though yesterday he wouldn’t have been able to describe this road to anyone. He passed a half-burned barn, then a trailer that had been boarded up since he was kid, then the rusted carcass of a ‘63 Falcon he and Deke had used for target practice with their .22’s. Each object seemed strange, then abruptly familiar, then hopelessly strange again-shifting and shifty.

The road came out of the trees at the top of a hill. He braked to a stop, put the car in park. The engine threatened to die, then fell into an unsteady idle.

A few hundred yards below lay the cemetery, the red-brick church, and the gravel parking lot half-full of cars. Satellite trucks from two different television stations were there. In the cemetery, the funeral was already in progress.

You can read the full chapter excerpt online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: Daryl Gregory’s first novel, Pandemonium was the winner of the 2009 Crawford Award. If you haven’t read Mr. Gregory yet, I highly recommend you start with this fantastic debut novel (as opposed to beginning with The Devil’s Alphabet).

A brilliant debut novel from a rising star in fantasy and science fiction, Pandemonium is a wild ride through the American cultural landscape.

It is a world like our own in every respect… save one: Beginning in the 1950’s, random acts of possession begin to occur. Ordinary men, women, and children are the targets of entities that seem to spring from the depths of the collective unconscious, pop-cultural avatars that some call demons. There’s the Truth, implacable avenger of falsehood. The Captain, brave and self-sacrificing soldier. The Little Angel, whose kiss brings death, whether desired or not. And a string of others, ranging from the bizarre to the benign to the horrific.

As a boy, Del Pierce is possessed by the Hellion, an entity whose mischief-making can be deadly. With the help of Del’s family and a caring psychiatrist, the demon is exorcised… or is it? Years later, following a car accident, the Hellion is back, trapped inside Del’s head and clamoring to get out.

Del’s quest for help leads him to Valis, an entity possessing the science-fiction writer formerly known as Philip K. Dick; to Mother Mariette, a nun who inspires decidedly unchaste feelings; and to the Human League, a secret society devoted to the extermination of demons.

All believe that Del holds the key to the plague of possession—and its solution. But for Del, the cure may be worse than the disease.

Verdict: The Devil’s Alphabet boasts a strong premise and layered characters, but fails to deliver a truly engaging story. Still, Mr. Gregory’s distinct voice and eye for description make him an author worth trying and watching out for in the future.

Rating: 6 – Good, but somewhat lacking

Reading Next: Ice by Sarah Beth Durst

It’s time for another Guest Dare – the November edition. For those new to the feature, our Guest Dare is a monthly endeavor in which we invite an unsuspecting victim to read a book totally outside of their comfort zone. You can read all previous Dare posts HERE.

This month’s victim is the fabulous Rhiannon Hart – prolific blogger and aspiring author of Young Adult fantasy. Rhiannon’s reading tastes run towards the Dystopian and Apocalyptic (sound familiar?), especially of the YA persuasion. When we contacted her for a guest dare, she came back with a laundry list of genres she’s uncomfortable towards, we (naturally) found a way to encompass multiple areas of discomfort in one book – a male protagonist, in a science fiction setting (minimal physics involved), with multiple war/thriller storylines. The book is The Warrior’s Apprentice by Lois McMaster Bujold, starring none other than the incomparable, indomitable Miles Vorkosigan.

Ladies and gents, please give it up for Rhiannon!

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Title: The Warrior’s Apprentice

Author: Lois McMaster Bujold

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Baen
Publication Date: 1986
Paperback: 320 pages

Stand alone or series: The first book to feature Miles Vorkosigan in the ongoing Vor series and the first book published in the series, though technically the fifth story in the series. (Think Star Wars Episodes I-III versus IV-VI – The Warrior’s Apprentice is starting at episode IV)

Why did we recommend this book: After discovering this series last year, Miles Vorkosigan has become one of Thea’s favorite protagonists. And when Rhiannon mentioned her aversion to scifi, male protagonists and war/espionage thrillers, we knew immediately that Miles and his shenanigans would be able to win her over. Thus, we recommended The Warrior’s Apprentice!

Summary: (from amazon.com)
Between the seemingly impossible tasks of living up to his warrior-father’s legend and surmounting his own physical limitations, Miles Vorkosigan faces some truly daunting challenges.

Shortly after his arrival on Beta Colony, Miles unexpectedly finds himself the owner of an obsolete freighter and in more debt than he ever thought possible. Propelled by his manic “forward momentum,” the ever-inventive Miles creates a new identity for himself as the commander of his own mercenary fleet to obtain a lucrative cargo; a shipment of weapons destined for a dangerous warzone.

Rhiannon’s Review:

Miles Vorkosigan has eleven generations of proud warriors preceding him, all weighing heavily on his stunted, fragile frame. His attempt to qualify for the Barrayaran Military Service Academy and follow in his illustrious family’s footsteps fails when he breaks both legs on an obstacle course. At a loss for what to do with himself now he’ll never become an officer, he turns his attention to Elena, the beautiful daughter of his bodyguard, Sergent Bothari, to help her found out the truth about her unknown mother. A chance meeting with a jump pilot about to have his ship scrapped on Beta colony sets in motion a series of events that sees Miles become the leader of a private, imaginary army, and embroiled in a war against the Oserans.

From the very beginning of this novel I was fascinated by Miles. He’s the perfect combination of audacity, wit, ego and fragility. On a planet where defects are barely tolerated, Miles’s physical imperfection makes him even more determined to prove himself, especially to his father. His catchphrase “forward momentum” is an apt one, and combined with an overwhelming desire to help the underdog (who he is prone to identify with) he becomes embroiled in all manner of sticky situations. Outward he is austere and commanding; in private he is fraught with worry and prone to tears. I don’t know whether I want to clasp him motheringly to my breast or tongue pash him.

I was relieved at how character-driven the narrative was. I’m not a sci-fi aficionado despite all the speculative fiction I read. I get a bit lost in deep space. I really like to know how things look and where they sit in relation to one another. The problem with space is it’s mostly empty (funny that) and I can’t get a proper handle on where things are. All the worm-holing and planet-hopping that went on had me a bit baffled, and see now why it may have been a good idea to read the two preceding books in this sequence, if only to learn more about Beta and Barrayar, what they look like and where they sit in relation to Earth. While I had a hard time visualising things, the social aspects and interplanetary relations were well fleshed out. I loved the contrast between the prudish and sheltered Barrayarans and the liberal Betans. Cordelia, Miles’s mother, is from Beta and also the protagonist of the first two novels, and her exasperation with Barrayarans his highly amusing.

Overall, this is a very funny book. I had a huge grin plastered on my face the whole time I was reading it and frequently laughed out loud. Bujold is a true wit. It’s also very touching, exciting and believable. Bujold doesn’t try to tie things up too neatly. Characters with a sordid past are neither demonised nor exonerated. They just are. I will definitely be picking up the other books in this series and picking up more sci-fi in general. I think a lot of teenagers would get pleasure out of books like these, but no one seems to writing them for a mass audience at the moment. Perhaps I should try! I’ve heard whispers that after the wave of dystopian novels that is about to submerge us up to our necks in end-of-the-world scenarios (hurrah!) sci-fi will be the next big thing. I better start researching rocket fuel and air-locks.

Thanks for having me, Smugglers! This was a fantastic dare, and maybe the start of a beautiful friendship between me and deep space sci-fi.

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There you have it, folks! Rhiannon is converted to the wonder that is science fiction and the awesomeness that is Miles Vorkosigan! Thanks again to Rhiannon for being a good sport, and for the fabulous review!

Next on the Guest Dare: We are actually letting you off the hook next month, as Smugglivus will be in full swing – but don’t fret! The Guest Dare will be back, with a vengeance, come 2010. If anyone is down for a challenge, feel free to email us or leave a comment here! We are always hungry for a new victim…