Tag Archives: science fiction

The Honor of the Queen

I do not wish to be too sick to write a review, as what if I fall behind in my reviewings? But contrariwise, what if I write a useless review to which people respond, “Hey, stop writing reviews while you’re sick, Sicky!” And then… well, I haven’t really been able to define the bad thing that happens next, probably because my head is too simultaneously congested and medicine-floaty to concentrate that long. But clearly, consequences will abound. All the same, I’ve written way too much to back down now, even if none of it has anything to do with Honor Harrington just yet.

Which, yeah, I finally read the second book of that series, The Honor of the Queen. In a lot of ways, it is a clone of the previous book. Well, sort of. At least, the setting is unchanged.[1] That setting being some 1700 years in the future, where mankind has long since spread forth from Earth, discovered the means for faster-than-light travel, only of course politics are always basically the same and now there’s a cold war between the honorable, if occasionally too doveish, Manticoran system and the wily, expansionistic and probably pinko commie Republic of Haven. You may recall (or may not, depending on how much I mentioned any of this last time) that our plucky heroine Honor Harrington got caught up in the apparent beginnings of that cold war while On Basilisk Station, with the results that she proved her pluck to herself, her subordinates, and her Queen’s military chain of command.

Now it is some years later[2], and Honor has been picked to command a task force on a diplomatic mission to a pair of backwards religious worlds that rejected all technology[3], with the result that they are insular and range from sexist to incredibly misogynistic, all of which would be good reasons to continue ignoring them and leaving them to their petty internecine religious warfare, except that they make a good buffer (or forward base, depending on whose team you are rooting for) between Manticore and Haven, much like Basilisk Station did last time. If you think this means that we’re about to be treated to another display of extreme competence in the face of insurmountable odds, during which Honor will impress allies, enemies, and neutral third parties alike with her capability and her, well, honor, then you are clearly reading the correct series. It’s interesting, because even without knowing that there are a whole bunch of books left to read, I would have known after reading the first one that there’s really no chance whatsoever that she’ll fail at what she sets her goals to, but the pacing is so much improved[4] over the first book that I was able to wring almost as much excitement out of wondering how the success would occur as I would normally spend on wondering whether it would.

Things I am looking forward to in future books: whether the revealed personality “flaw”[5] will cause her any future problems; the outbreak into an actual war of some kind between the two rival, uh, nations I guess? That’s the closest analogue, anyway. Oh, and whether the hyper-intelligent empathic cat creature will stop seeming weird eventually. At least it no longer seems tacked on.

[1] I really feel like there’s a distinction I’m about to draw here, in which I define the setting more precisely instead of just saying the most uselessly inane piece of information ever presented in a review by anyone, ever. Nevertheless, the fact of my aforementioned sickness is definitely rearing its head, if only in my head.
[2] These years are not very relevant since most everyone in the developed parts of the galaxy has access to life extension technology. Yay, the future!
[3] I know. Believe me, I know. So do all of the characters. Weber’s penchant for straw men may start to grate on me, I reckon, unless he gets a little more circumspect about them.
[4] Seriously, from about the midpoint of the book on, there was very little action that did not feel climactic. Which makes up for quite a fair amount of previous political strawmanship, let me tell you.
[5] Scare quotes because of how certain I am that Weber doesn’t really consider it a flaw at all, despite that he acknowledged why it could be troublesome.

Moon

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Since I didn’t get Moon through Netflix, I really should have taken my opportunity to skip this review. I mean, it’s the kind of movie where knowing as little as possible is the best, and that makes it hard for me to mention the pure highlight that elevates it above other similarly-constructed movies that we’ve seen in the past, of which 2001 is certainly the most obvious. And yet, it’s a movie that I first heard about on Thursday, and managed to see on Sunday through no great expansion of effort, while gathering that basically every other person on the planet had not only heard of it but really liked it. (Well, almost everyone for that last point.) And so I feel obligated to say something about it, just because it was such a common thread of my weekend.

So, what happens is this: an energy corporation is strip-mining the dark side of the moon for a hydrogen isotope that can power over 75% of the world’s energy needs. (Or it might have been helium, but hydrogen makes a lot more sense, and really we’d have the same story if it had been unobtanon, so stop being so damn picky!) And they’ve got this moon base built that mostly runs itself, including the harvesters roaming around, and all that really needs doing is minor outdoor repair work and also the collection and launching of the hydrogen tubes once they’ve gotten full, for which they have hired Sam Bell for a three year tour of duty. The part where he’s alone except for GERTY, the helpful base computer/tethered robot, wouldn’t be too bad except that satellite links for live relay to earth are down, so he only gets communication with his bosses and family at about the rate of USPS letters. But he fills his time with old television[1] and craft-work and other such pursuits, and anyway, it’s only two more weeks until his tour ends and he gets to go home. Too bad he’s started to hallucinate. …or has he???

And anything after that, even the part I want to praise, even a discussion of theme beyond my willingness to say I think they did a good job there, would be way too much spoiler. So I’ll stop here and only recommend that if you’ve got a lazy Sunday afternoon and a craving for humanist sci-fi, this is a good place to go. (The movie, not the actual moon, which has been strip-mined something ugly, let me tell you.)

[1] If I wanted to pick a part of the movie that was kind of horrible, it’s that the two TV shows that made it on screen were Bewitched and The Mary Tyler Moore Show, both of which took me right out of the moment by triggering the realization that they picked their shows based on what would be cheap to get the rights to from TV Land or whoever owns them now, instead of what someone in a near-future setting would likely be interested in. I mean, geeze, at least Cheers or Cosby or Friends, guys!

Skyline (2010)

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Sometimes, when a movie is universally panned, there’s a reason for it.

Skyline is another in a recent series of alien invasion stories that are told at the personal ground level, rather than with sweeping majesty like Independence Day was back when it re-opened the genre for public consumption. If you imagine War of the Worlds or Cloverfield, you are definitely on the right track. Aside from incidental plot and character arc divergences, these are all three (along with several others I could probably think of if I paused to do so) basically the same movie. So, what makes Skyline stand out? The first thing is the characters; every single one of these ranges between (at the high end) uninteresting and seedily unlikeable.[1] The second thing is the plot, which, after establishing that the Aliens are Here! and People are in Danger!, effectively goes nowhere at all for the rest of the movie, up to and including a conclusion that I can only presume was meant to by heart-warmingly thought-provoking, or perhaps vice versa. The third thing is… well, look, if you need a third thing, it’s because you are more forgiving of badness in movies than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never met the person that fits this description.

[1] I should say that David Zayas, who I hope you will recognize as Angel Batista on Dexter, really wanted his character to be likable, but the script simply wouldn’t allow it.

The Steerswoman

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The thing is, I finished this book days ago, and by that, I mean too many days ago. I’ve had tons of entertainments and about two-thirds of the next book since then, and I’m more sad at myself for failing to come to here than I’d normally be just for running behind. And that is because I liked it a lot better than the quality of this review will reflect. Still, this is the reality I’ve got, so I’ll do what I can.

The Steerswoman is the first book in a series about, y’know, steerswomen. (Mostly, though there are a few steersmen.) And the steerswomen are dedicated to knowledge. Gathering it, using it, disseminating it freely. And… but that right there is the thing. I started the book following Rowan’s adventures without any idea how the world worked, what the blue gemstones she was researching meant, or even why the wizards and the steerswomen are so strongly at odds. Truth be told, I still don’t know the answers to all of those questions. But watching the layers of the worldbuilding onion slowly peel back was every bit as entertaining as the unfolding of the actual plot. So I am forced to stop here, and add only that it’s a good book in a fantastic world that I want to excavate more thoroughly.

Best of all, I managed to not tell the story of why I finally started reading the series, which means I get to use it in a future review!

TRON: Legacy

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I saw the Tron sequel (which I know I should be making all caps, yet cannot bring myself to) as a midnight premiere showing, which was… difficult. I can definitely tell I’ve turned some kind of corner, and it makes me sad. Anyway, I definitely liked it, which seems to be a minority opinion on the internet, though I’m not sure why. It is stupidly pretty (although young Jeff Bridges skirts the edge of the uncanny valley when seen in IMAX), it has a lot of coolness, and it has sfnal ideas that, while not very new, are certainly interesting. What’s not to like?

Well… if I had to pick something, it would be that there’s Too Much. I spotted aesthetic elements from The Wizard of Oz and The Empire Strikes Back, story influences from at least three different sources that I’ve since forgotten, and a reach[1] that, just like in the original movie, consistently exceeds its grasp. But I have a hard time grading that harshly, even as I understand why other people might not.

Nutshell: go see it. If you loved the original, this stays true to it while expanding into uncharted vistas, and if you never saw the original[2], this at least gets all of the tech stuff right, which is rare enough in Hollywood to deserve monetary reward.[3] Also, since I spotted a few frames worth of sequel-potential, I’d like to predict that their choice to act on one any time in the next 24 months will result in a terrible outcome. Heed my advice, $Disney_executive!

[1] This again referring to the storyline.
[2] It occurs to me that I’m forced into another one of my footnote plot summaries, since I forgot people might not know much about it, until just now in the editing pass. Both movies contemplate a human-permeable barrier into a computer network called the Grid, in which both full programs and stray lines of code have viable personifications and struggle against stronger programs who have forced them into either servitude or else brutally short lives in a games arena. Whenever a User enters the Grid, plot occurs!
[3] If you think I left out a third possibility, then I am currently glaring at you. For being a bad person.

Crater Lake

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Y’know, it’s hard to add much about the Deathlands books, at least anytime soon. I’ve already specified that they’re post-apocalyptic gun porn with implausibly equitable gender politics, right? Then yeah, at that point, there’s not yet a lot to add per book. In this specific book, our heroes are teleported[1] to Crater Lake, where they discover the first gender-inequitable civilization in the series, which is notable both for being populated by obvious bad guys and for not having occurred during any of the previous three books. They also discover, as I got distracted by all the (admittedly non-Bechdelian, but the book is from 1987 and aimed toward teenage boys and gun enthusiasts) non-sexism from pointing out already, the evils of government-funded weapons research and a great deal more about the mysterious Doctor Theophilus. (Which, to be clear, is pretty cool.)

[1] Which you would know if you also remembered that this particular post-apocalyptia has a sci-fi theme, which I know I’ve also mentioned.

Serenity: The Shepherd’s Tale

51OPFX5nmALA third[1] graphic novel in the Serenity universe has just recently been released, and I love me my Firefly more than enough to snap it up and into the rotation right quickly. If you are familiar with the universe, the title alone will be all the spoiling you could hope for, and if you are not, this would be a hard (but not insurmountable) place to start. Still, just in case, The Shepherd’s Tale chronicles the history of Shepherd Derrial Book, focusing especially on his life before taking up a berth as a passenger (and eventually as crew) of the Firefly-class transport ship Serenity, a history that up until now has been as shrouded in mystery as anything that happened in that story. There were, to me, a couple of pieces that don’t quite add up, but not enough to object to what was a very well-presented, long term character arc in the fewest number of pages possible. Then again, the nitpicking (and the small sense of letdown from which it stems) could be more about another in an almost certainly finite number of doors closing on one of my favorite stories.

[1] As has been my perhaps unfortunate wont, I read the first two as they were released in comic form. So, uh, oops, no review for you.

The Passage

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The Passage is exactly the kind of widely popular fiction that I avoid, the kind that is probably cited as the most recent book read on 3 out of 5 new eHarmony accounts right now. (Well, the ones that acknowledge reading as something people actually do.) I honestly have no idea how it got on my radar in the first place, given that. I guess from a person I know, or NPR? It’s a total blank, I just remember that it got added to my shopping list notepad on the iPhone, and that at the time, I was not shocked, so apparently remembered having added it. My brain works like this far more often than I am comfortable with. Anyway, whatever I had heard was sufficiently convincing, I guess, so I did end up reading it, and really quite early after purchase considering my enormous queue.

But, okay, whatever convinced me was basically right, as the book is at its most basic level a post-apocalyptic overrun-world story, with only a few beacons of huddled humanity in pools of infinite darkness. And I like that setting a lot. As you can perhaps imagine from the title, the people with whom we are concerned don’t just stay huddled under the beacon, but why they go, from whom they are huddled, and what they hope to accomplish are all questions with interesting enough answers that I don’t want to spoil them, except to tease by saying that Amy, introduced in the first sentence of the book as The Girl Who Lived a Thousand Years, is definitely involved. (Every good post-apocalyptic story that isn’t about the actual apocalypse needs a character from Before, to tie the reader to the shattered landscape. Otherwise, it might as well not be set on Earth in the first place!)

So, it has a setting I like and a story I’ve approved of. Why am I not gushing, as I almost certainly too often do? It’s a number of little things that add up to overall dissatisfaction. Like, the perfect record of using “wretch” as a verb. Or the innocent murderer on death row in act one of the story who eventually provided nothing to the plot’s genesis or resolution. Or, and I suppose this is not so little, the overly coincidental coming together of the hero and the plot token just as doom was assured through means unrelated to that doom, without there being some kind of fantastic element or prophecy to justify it.[1] Or the spiritual underpinning throughout the story that never quite gelled for me. Or the sadism of the last sentence of the epilogue. And now it sounds like a story I didn’t like, which isn’t right either. I guess it was a story that I liked a lot, but that had some real need for editing, enough so that I was too often pulled out of the story by it. There is some irony in the fact that I’ve never had this complaint about what are objectively worse books in the Deathlands series.

[1] I am apparently willing to swallow all manner of implausible coincidence, as long as the author tells me that some person wrote it down cryptically generations before.

Neutron Solstice

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I am still a little bit astounded by just how well the Deathlands series is paying off for me. Okay, sure, I’ve only read three of them so far and the series is still being published some 25 years later, but the truth of the matter is that the setting, formula, and characters are enough to keep me satisfied for a very, very long time. It turns out that post-apocalyptic gun porn with a hearty dash of science fiction and hints of a large backstory around the edges, being revealed piece by laborious piece, is pretty much my idea of comfort reading. And the irony of it is that my review of Neutron Solstice is essentially identical to my review of Red Holocaust, at least in every important way. The only differences are in the window dressing; instead of the bitter cold of Alaska, our heroes have teleported to the steamy swamps of Lousiana, and instead of Soviet invaders as the enemy, they must face the iron fist of a giant baron who is improbably not named Samedi.

But if you are looking for giant mutant alligators, voodoo zombies, maddening hints of the past from resident anachronism Doc Theophilus, or a decent chunk of backstory on one-eyed hunk Ryan Cawdor, you’ve come to the right place. Of course, you have no reason to be looking for most of those things, but that’s what I’m here for. If you’re like me and societal decay is your literary bread and butter, prepare to be astonished by just how much you’ll care about these characters, and especially by how affecting each scenario can become. Whoever this James Axler is[1], he’s actually a pretty damn good writer. Who knew?

[1] Pete knows, and I cannot help but dread the day when a new author shows up under the farm name, because what if the books drop back down to the quality of generic men’s adventure stories?

Boneshaker

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Oftentimes, I do not read Hugo-nominated novels. Basically, any times. This is not by design, and I’m sure you could prove to me that I’ve read several by pointing things out on a list, but I’m at least never aware of it. I wonder if next year I will start? It would at least be an interesting change of pace. This matters to you because my good friend Skwid lent me Boneshaker, on the premise that it was a steampunk/zombie crossover novel and I would therefore like it. Which is plausibly a fair assumption to make.

So, anyway, I did.

Longer review: yes, it’s Seattle steampunk set in the late 19th Century, yes, it has differently-named zombies, yes, it has wholly gratuitous zeppelin chase scenes. Yes, it has a lightning fast pace that would be well suited to future filming. But at its heart, it’s a family drama about parents and children, husbands and wives, learning how to let go and when to hold on. It sounds insulting to say that if you removed the steampunk zombies and gratuitous zeppelins, I could find this story on the Lifetime Movie Network a dozen times a week, but it isn’t. It isn’t insulting at all, because Cherie Priest made me fail to hate the idea of reading [or watching] that story, and it turns out that (as you’d expect) it’s a pretty good story indeed when told interestingly rather than hand-wringingly. I have of course no idea whether it’s better than the other Hugo-nominated books, nor am I likely to. But yeah, maybe next year?