Tag Archives: Dan Simmons

The Terror: A Novel

After the relative disappointment of Olympos and what I’ve been told about others of his sequels, I was a little bit nervous about grabbing a new Dan Simmons book. But after glancing at The Terror closely enough to see it had no room for a sequel and liking the cover, I snagged it and sat on it for a while. When I finally started it, well, I’m pretty happy with these results.

The Terror refers to a couple of things. Primarily, the Terror was one of two ships on John Franklin’s expedition to discover the Arctic Northwest Passage, between Canada and the North Pole; as the book opens, these two ships have been trapped in solid ice for over a year, victims of unfortunate navigation choices and a failed summer thaw. The Terror also refers to a creature that is stalking the trapped men. It is massive, seemingly unstoppable and every bit as dangerous as the weather and dwindling supplies. Like I said, I was a little bit nervous about the book, and so I may have been more critical than usual. One scene near the middle of the book seemed a touch over the top, and I was a little bit antsy about the conclusion, but I got over it. On the whole, extremely solid book.

Additionally, it spoke to me pretty strongly, because I have myself experienced some fraction of a percent of what those men did, and as the prolonged cold started to take its real toll on them, I was pulled in more and more. But then, just at the end, real creepiness struck, above and beyond both scary monsters and punishing climates. Turns out, all this stuff really happened.[1] It’s one thing to be reading a book, watching people die one by one, wondering who of the characters might have a chance and who not. It’s quite another to learn that all of the results were set in stone before Simmons’ pen was ever set to paper, and to look at a picture of the last mission report, pulled out of a frozen cairn years after it was put there, their doom written in the margins of the only paper they could find.

I am not sure, but I think that may have made it better for me than it already was. I will, for certain sure, carry it with me longer.

[1] Not, y’know, all of it.

Olympos

Short Answer: Olympos, Dan Simmons follow-up to Ilium, was a really enjoyable read. I was interested in every character’s story from start to finish and glad to spend a little more time on the world. The bad news (there’s always bad news, isn’t there?) doesn’t outweigh any of this, but it did make for a substantial amount of disappointment.

There were only two things wrong, really, is the saddest part. First, some of the plot elements seemed rushed. I think all of my questions about what had happened to get from today to the future earth were answered, but some aspects, usually the negative ones, seemed tacked onto the story just because they were unanswered questions; after reading the first book, I know he has the ability to write more smoothly than that. So: jarring. Worse, though, none of the characters really changed in any important way. As far as enjoying a world, more to read is more to enjoy. But as far as character and plot development, I honestly would have been just as satisfied with the way Ilium ended, without ever needing to read another word. It is a damned shame that Olympos added almost no depth, after the brilliance of the original.

Ilium

The problems with having no real standards are two-fold. 1) When you find something that’s really cool and worthwhile, people who let themselves be guided by such factors as quality or entertainingness will naturally suspect you of being up to your old tricks, and 2) you’ll find yourself being given to greater flights of hyperbole as a natural result of the first thing. Hyperbole is absolutely, positively, and I mean this 1000 percent, never effective. So, naturally, both of these are concerns of mine after having finished Dan Simmon’s Ilium.

Okay, the easy stuff. I came into it knowing it was about the Iliad, and basically not knowing any more than that. This is okay, because both the title and the first couple of paragraphs make the same point. A couple of more things that I didn’t know coming in are that it’s also about Shakespeare, and H.G. Wells, and Proust (and a little bit, I claim, about Arthur Conan Doyle), and sentient robots living in the shadow of Jupiter, and pampered people living in an idyllic golden age on Earth. It’s about knowledge, and whether knowledge has value, and whether knowledge has intrinsic value. Most of all, it is about what the very best in science fiction is always about, what it means to be human.

Ah, you ask, but is it any good? Well, obviously you’re not really asking that, because a) you don’t trust me to know anyway, b) I already basically said it’s good, and c) how can that mix of plot, character and theme not be good? I mean, really, did you even read the second paragraph at all? Seriously, though. It’s great. When I finished it, I would not have hated the author if it had been almost exactly the same[1] and been one book instead of the first of two. At the same time, if the second book were out yet, I would go buy it and be reading it now, in express violation of my policy of not reading / reviewing books consecutively. I kind of resent having to wait until early July, as Amazon implies.

Thinking it over, I can’t even say that I miss the lack of frozen zombies. Thinking it over a little bit further, there’s a case to be made that it has the potential for frozen zombies after all, and that makes me feel better about myself. At the least, I can’t say I needed them in volume one, and that’s still saying a lot.

Incidentally: Can someone who has read this book contact me external to the site? I have a question that falls outside the scope of the review, about faxing and whether there was an authorial misstep or hints for the second book. And, can everyone who hasn’t read this book go ahead and read it? The world will be a better place. I actually kind of want to read the Iliad again now. No, really.

[1] Because, being two books, there are elements of the narrative barely alluded to that are sure to come into full relief in the second book. If he’d covered everything, then a second book would be silly.