Science Fiction

The Three-Body Problem

The ascension of geek culture in the United States has meant that long marginalized genres like Science Fiction have become more acceptable, or at least tolerated. Ironically, this acknowledgement from the literary mainstream seems to be part of the current culture war, what with Sad Puppies whining about message fiction and anti-puppies trying to counter the surprisingly successful efforts to return SF to the gutter (as it were). While many have cast this as a political issue, and there certainly is a political component, I’ve always thought that Eric S. Raymond’s analysis of the situation, based more on the qualities of literary fiction, was more cogent:

Literary status envy is the condition of people who think that all genre fiction would be improved by adopting the devices and priorities of late 19th- and then 20th-century literary fiction. Such people prize the “novel of character” and stylistic sophistication above all else. They have almost no interest in ideas outside of esthetic theory and a very narrow range of socio-political criticism. They think competent characters and happy endings are jejune, unsophisticated, artistically uninteresting. They love them some angst.

People like this are toxic to SF, because the lit-fic agenda clashes badly with the deep norms of SF. Many honestly think they can fix science fiction by raising its standards of characterization and prose quality, but wind up doing tremendous iatrogenic damage because they don’t realize that fixating on those things (rather than the goals of affirming rational knowability and inducing a sense of conceptual breakthrough) produces not better SF but a bad imitation of literary fiction that is much worse SF.

Into this weary situation comes The Three-Body Problem, by China’s most popular science-fiction writer Liu Cixin (translated by Ken Liu, no relation). In China, the situation is somewhat different. After decades in which Chinese SF was subject to the whims of Communist Party rule, first as a way to “popularizing science for socialist purposes”, then as a pariah that was “promoting decadent capitalist elements”, it appears that SF is on the rise again. Liu has capitalized on the rising sentiment, and his most popular books are now getting translated and generating buzz amongst SF fandom.

Liu’s work is often described in terms of Golden Age SF, and in particular, the work of Arthur C. Clarke. At first, I was not sure if this book would be living up to that promise. There was a great deal of time and attention placed on cultural forces acting on science towards the beginning of the book (in particular, Liu spends a fair amount of time with the Chinese Cultural Revolution in the 60s and 70s). Then there are some interesting, but seemingly not SF occurrences, such as a scientist who notices a number in his photographs. It appears to be a countdown, but he cannot account for how the number is appearing or what it is counting down to. There are a host of other, seemingly impossible events. There is a video game that is oddly hallucinatory and difficult to get through. And so on…

It turns out that this is all window dressing. The historical bits set the scene, the seemingly impossible occurrences generate a crisis amongst Earth scientists, and the video game holds the key to explaining what is going on. This episodic and oddly disjointed setup starts to click at some point, and the pieces start to fall together. Sometimes, it’s a little clunky or overwrought, but it comes together well in the end.

At its heart, it’s a first contact story, and if you’re familiar with those, you know that fiction rarely shies away from the inherent possibilities for conflict there. It was again a bit worrying at the start, because one of the main factions on earth are people who want the aliens to come to our planet because they don’t think the human race is worthy of existence (or something along those pessimistic lines), but it seems clear that this is not where the series is going, it’s just part of a lengthy setup. The aliens themselves are rather interesting, existing in a Tri-Solar system (one of a few references to the titular “three bodies”), a wildly unpredictable state of affairs that has guided their evolution and frequently destroys their civilizations (when, for example, two or three of the suns are in certain configuration, the planet becomes, shall we say, unsuitable to life.)

This is all a bit unconventional from a Western point of view, and why wouldn’t it be? It’s also one of the things that makes this an interesting book to grapple with. From a plot or character standpoint, it feels a bit lacking, but there are many rich thematic elements that one could explore here. These basically come down to competition and disruption. The conflict between civilizations at this book’s core could easily be applied to more mundane struggles, from industrial competition, to the rise of China in relation to the West. Disruption is a key element of business, creating and/or destroying markets, often through the use of technology. It is how people react to such disruptions that are the point, and the rival factions on earth reacting to the coming Aliens is a good example.

There are some fantastical elements that threaten to break it away from SF, especially earlier in the book. As mentioned above, these do come together well enough in the end, though Liu’s cleverness is in the way he sets it up. The early, nearly complete lack of realism sets a point of reference such that, when Liu does get around to explaining why these things are happening, it feels acceptable even though it’s mostly hokum. Chaos Horizon explains it well:

While some of the scientific sections are sound, others are deliberately exaggerated. Near the end, there’s a bravura sequence where an alien civilization “unravels” a proton from 11 dimensions to 1, 2, and 3 dimensions, and then inscribes some sort of computer on that seemingly miniscule space. It’s one of the most fascinating pieces of bullshit I’ve read in years, but it is bullshit nonetheless.

Fascinating bullshit, indeed. I was more than willing to go with it.

This being the first book in a trilogy, little is resolved in the end, though it does finish on a positive note and it leaves you wanting more. The next volume is scheduled to be published next year, and I’m greatly looking forward to it, which says a lot.

I read this earlier in the year as part of my Hugo Award coverage. It came out late last year and was steadily building steam, and once it was nominated for a Nebula award, I thought I should check it out. I’m glad I did, and it made my Hugo ballot, but once the official nominees were released (and this book wasn’t on their), I kinda scuttled doing a full review. However, since this year’s Hugo awards are so weirdly contentious, one of the Best Novel nominees dropped out of the race. I’m not sure if this is unprecedented or not, but it’s highly unlikely nonetheless (authors often refuse their nomination, but are given a chance to do so before the finalists are announced – this situation where an author sees the lay of the year’s Hugo land and simply opts out was surprising) and many were expecting this to mean that the Best Novel category would only include 4 nominees. After all, adding the next most popular nominee would tell everyone who got the least nominating votes (info that is only published after the awards are handed out) and honestly, given the current situation, this precedent seems ripe for abuse. Nevertheless, the Hugo administrators opted to fill the open slot with The Three-Body Problem (a non-Puppy nominee, though from what I’ve seen, the Puppies seem to really enjoy this book). From left off the ballot to potential winner, quite a turn of events. Of the two nominees I’ve read, this is clearly ahead and could possibly take my number 1 vote. It is a bit of an odd duck, but I quite enjoyed it.

Link Dump: Hugo Reactions

It’s been about a week since the Hugo finalists were announced… and there’s been way too much commentary to comb through. I’m going to post a few links here, but know that there are others who are doing a far better job summarizing the commentary, and to be quite honest, I’m already burnt out on the politics of the thing. This will most likely be my last post on the subject, though I suspect I’ll get pulled back in depending on how recklessly No Award is deployed in the final tally. For the record, I think Sad Puppies 3 was far more successful than anyone thought (which includes them) and as such, I’m going to be somewhat leery of slates in the future (my preference would be for Sad Puppies 4 to simply encourage participation and maybe include an open post about eligible books as opposed to a straight slate). I have a hard time believing most of the conspiracies being thrown around, and am emphatically against the abuse that’s been generated (which goes both ways). I don’t like guilt by association and generally assume good faith in participants. Many nominees are being thrown under a bus for petty reasons, and that seems silly to me. As always, I plan to read and vote accordingly. Anywho, here are some other folks commenting on the slate.

  • File 770 has been all over this thing, with daily updates and link roundups that are well worth checking out. If you’re the type who wants to continue devouring commentary, this is the place to go.
  • Chaos Horizon has been doing some excellent statistical analyses based on available data. It seems likely that there are at least some voters who nominated the straight puppy slate, though there’s not enough information to say for sure. Honestly, I don’t know that there ever will, though when the full numbers are released in August, we’ll be able to speculate on a maximum impact (but even that won’t prove anything). My anecdotal experience in looking at puppy nominators is that they are people who only voted for things they read and liked (and thus did not nominate the full ballot).
  • A Note About the Hugo Nominations This Year – Like last year, John Scalzi’s reaction has been eminently reasonable:

    2. I’m very pleased for the several friends and/or writers who are on the ballot this year. This includes everyone in the Best Novel category, all of whom I consider friends, and any of whom I would be happy to see take home a rocket this year. And as always, I congratulate all the nominees for the Hugo and the Campbell. It’s fun to be nominated, and nice to get recognition. I’ll be voting.

    3. This year I’ll do what I always do when voting for the Hugos, which is to rank the nominees every category according to how I think they (and/or their particular works in question) deserve to ranked. Preferential balloting is a useful thing. I will be reading quite a lot.

    …In sum: I think it’s possible for voters to thread the needle and give creators fair consideration while also expressing displeasure (if indeed one is displeased) at the idea of slates, or people trolling the award. This might take a little work, but then voting on the Hugos should be a little bit of work, don’t you think. This is a good year to do that.

    Well said.

  • Thoughts on the 2015 Hugo Award Nominees – Joe Sherry has reasonable things to say, and unlike 99.9% of other commentary, he also posted some thoughts on the actual ballot. I’m more or less in line with this approach:

    At this point I have read far too many articles written on both sides of the debate, and while I’m not willing to say “I hate everyone equally”, I can say that I’m fairly well annoyed by most people. I am not on the side of the Sad Puppies because generally, the sort of book and the sort of story I enjoy reading is already what is frequently represented by the Hugos (though there are certain authors I am very, very confused by how frequently they are nominated for stuff – but I’ve always chalked it up to different and divergent tastes and nothing more). But, I do agree with one of their stated aims: which is that more people should be involved in the Hugo awards. Heck, the people who nominated and vote are only a small fraction of the people who actually attend Worldcon. Get them involved, too, somehow. Everything might look different if that happened.

    So, what am I going to do?

    I’m going to read everything on the ballot and hope that the Hugo voter packet is inclusive of everything on it (minus the dramatic presentations), and then I’m going to vote accordingly. I look forward to the Hugo Awards every year and enjoy thinking about them, talking about them, occasionally writing way too many words about them. Before I knew anything about the awards, I believed that they were the premier award in science fiction and fantasy. The best of the best. The Oscar of the genre. Later I learned that the Hugos were nothing more than an award given out by a particular community, and only nominated and voted on by a very small subset of that same community. The Hugos are reflective of a particular group of people, just as the Nebulas are, and the World Fantasy Awards are (the three I awards I care most about) – but the Hugos is the one I can participate in, which makes it special even knowing what I do about it. So, I respect the process of the award and will treat all the nominees fairly and at face value – and I think it is disappointing that I felt the need to write that sentence.

    Again, reasonable stuff.

  • The Disavowal – A Sad Puppy nominee disavows stuff.
  • Mary Anne Mohanraj also has reasonable things to say. She leads with a Bujold reference and takes Miles’ wisdom to heart, assuming good faith and providing some reasonable suggestions for the future.
  • If you’re bitching about the Hugo Awards, you’re part of the problem. A more cynical approach here, but worth noting.
  • Please stop with the death threats and the hate mail. Very nice to see Mary Robinette Kowal’s reasonable comments:

    Folks. Do not send death threats to Larry Correia, Brad Torgersen or anyone else on the Sad Puppies slate. That is a shitty thing to do. Stop it.

    I, too, am angry about how things went down with the Hugos, but am also realistic about the fact that much of the work — not all of it — but a lot of it is on there because people are legitimately excited about it. Yes, there are some things from Rabid Puppies that seem to be there purely for shock value. But others? Sheila Gilbert does damn good work. Jim Butcher is a serious writer.

    Hey, look, another person has actually looked at the ballot. And she also took the rather noble step of sponsoring 10 supporting memberships for folks who want to vote but can’t afford it… an effort that has caught on with other folks to the point where there are now 75 sponsored memberships. Well done.

  • George R.R. Martin has been pretty active this week, and this post on Hatespeech is just one of them:

    And now there’s Puppygate, and I have been posting about that, and in the course of which I have had some exchanges with Larry Correia, the founder of Sad Puppies, and Brad Torgensen, who ran the SP3 slate. And both of them tell similar tales: of anonymous phone calls, libel and slander, vicious emails, death threats… death threats! All of these, presumably, coming from “my side” of fandom, those who oppose the Puppies. Do I believe them? I don’t want to believe them. I would rather cling to the belief that my side is better than that. That’s hard to do these days, As strongly as I disagree with Torgensen and Correia about the Hugo Awards, and probably a hundred other issues, I have no reason to think them liars. I think they are telling the truth, just as Quinn and Sarkeesian and Wu were. On the internet, it seems, abuse trumps debate every time.

    Death threats. Really? Really???

  • …to my people, don’t blame Tor – Larry Correia also jumps on the “stop being jerks” bandwagon:

    Don’t threaten to boycott anybody because of their business associations, because that’s exactly the kind of boorish behavior that’s been done to us.

    Don’t post links to a torrent site and suggest that people pirate stuff instead of giving a publishing house money. Do you have any idea how offensive it is to do that on a professional author’s feed?

    Tor seems to be a major boogeyman for some people, for some reason.

  • Vox plays chicken with Worldcon – Brad Torgersen (organizer of the Sad Puppy 3 campaign) has some choice words for No Award voters (i.e. folks who vow to vote No Award above everything on the Puppy slates), including Vox Day’s thread to No Award 2016:

    Frankly, I think everybody should just do what Mary Robinette Kowal and Dan Wells and Scalzi and Correia and Jason Sanford and myself have been recommending you do, and read your voter packet and vote like the stories and books are just stories and books.

    If Vox borks the Hugos in 2016, he is the biggest asshole SF/F has ever seen in its history.

    Vox, please don’t be an asshole.

    If the people who hate Vox bork the Hugos in 2015, they are the biggest assholes SF/F has ever seen in its history.

    Vox-haters, please don’t be assholes.

    This is getting ridiculous. For the record, I think voting No Award above (or in place of) something just because it appears on a puppy slate is a bad idea. It is actually allowed technically if you read the rules closely, but it’s a pretty crappy thing to do. I don’t think slates are a great thing either, but the No Award approach is worse. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Or something like that.

Alright, so there’s some sampling of stuff. Like I said, I can’t really keep up and at this point, I’m ready to just move on and start reading the actual work (because why spend that time reading vitriol and disingenuous arguments?) Care to join me? Oh, and by the way, comments are working again! Huzzah!

The 2015 Hugo Awards: Initial Thoughts

The nominees for the 2015 Hugo Awards were announced yesterday, and the entire world is losing their shit because the Sad Puppy campaign has pretty much run away with the slate. Assorted thoughts below:

  • My ballot faired quite poorly indeed! Not counting the Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form category (because it’s a pretty mainstream category, though I’ll have some additional thoughts on this below), only one nominee made it to the official ballot, and that was a (mostly accidental) overlap with the Sad Puppy campaign. In fairness, Ken Burnside’s The Hot Equations (in Best Related Work) is a worthy nominee with an endearing nod to SF right in its title. I find my lack of success here mildly amusing in that this is what the majority of Sad Puppy nominators must have felt in years past, but what most of the Sad Puppy opposition is feeling right now (even if I don’t particularly subscribe to either side in the battle).
  • When I first saw the Sad Puppy slate (and Rabid Puppy slate), I thought the dramatic increase in suggested works would result in a decrease in concentration amongst the choices, thus spreading out the voting and yielding relatively few successes. I was incredibly wrong in this prediction. It appears that the Puppy campaigns were remarkably effective this year, with 61 nominees appearing on at least one of the lists (only 24 of the nominees did not appear on either list, and many of those were in categories that the Puppies did not bother to include in their ballots). I predict widespread panic, bleating, and protest voting (“No Award” will be deployed with reckless abandon). Then again, I’ve been pretty wrong about everything else, so who knows?
  • Personally, while I don’t really identify as a Sad Puppy, I never bore them ill will and their notion of emphasizing fun storytelling over boring literary fiction conventions was attractive to me (my nominations for the fiction categories had no overlap with the Puppy ballots, but I suspect many Puppies would enjoy them). That being said, I can’t help but feel like the pendulum has swung too far in their direction. If I were running Sad Puppies next year, I would focus on encouraging participation rather than posting a list of approved works. I don’t expect this to happen, but as I’ve amply demonstrated, I’m the worst and am often wrong.
  • The whole kerfluffle comes down to assumptions of bad faith. The Puppies assume that people nominate things according to political merit rather than quality and rebel against that notion, the anti-puppies assume that the puppies are just blindly nominating the suggested slates (without having read the stories, etc…), again for political reasons. This is why people decry the inclusion of politics in previously non-political arenas. My assumption is of good faith, and as with last year, I’m just going to read the nominated works and vote accordingly. I’m already pretty sick of all the digital ink being spilled about the politics of all this stuff, and don’t expect to have much more to say about it.
  • Let’s take a closer look at the Novel category:
    • Ancillary Sword by Ann Leckie – Sequel to last year’s unstoppable winner, Ancillary Justice, this is one of the few non-puppy nominees to become a finalist and the only nominee that I’ve already read. Alas, I was not as big a fan of this one as the first book in the series.
    • The Dark Between the Stars by Kevin J. Anderson – A puppy nominee, this looks to be a standalone (or start of a trilogy) set in the context of a larger setting. My only experience with Anderson was his not-so-great Star Wars Jedi Academy trilogy. Timothy Zahn basically reignited Star Wars fever in the early 90s with his Thrawn Trilogy (the first and to my knowledge, best of the modern expanded universe stories) and Anderson quickly doused it with his trilogy (at least, for me). But it’s been, like, 20 years, and this book seems like it could work well enough, so there is that. I actually have a modest amount of hope for this one.
    • The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison – The other non-puppy nominee, a well regarded fantasy novel that seems like it could be a lot of fun. Looking forward to this one.
    • Lines of Departure by Marko Kloos – Appears to be a military SF story, the second in a series. The whole series this is always kinda annoying, but these do seem up my alley and they appear to be short page turners. Definitely looking forward to this one.
    • Skin Game by Jim Butcher – Of the Sad Puppy nominees, I was most expecting this one to win. Butcher’s Desden Files series is immensely popular. I suspect the reason that none of the previous books were nominated is that urban fantasy is just not something that normally does well with Hugo voters. I’m decidedly mixed on the Dresden Files books. I’ve read the first three, enjoyed two of them and hated one (the second one, with the werewolves). That being said, it’s not really one of my favorite series. This being the 15th book in the long-running series, I also find myself wondering how standalone it would be (but I’m not going to read the intervening 11 books just to come up to speed).

    This is actually a pretty good mix of sub-genres here. Two space operas (one trending more literary than the other), one mil-SF, one straight-up fantasy, and one urban fantasy. Obviously, I still have to read 4 of the nominees, but I actually think this slate is more attractive to me than last year’s…

  • The Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form list is decent enough, I guess, but I always find it odd that the Hugo for best movie always seems to be mostly mainstream blockbusters and not the little indie SF movies (which are often much better at capturing the sensawunda of written SF). For instance, I was really hoping that Coherence and The One I Love would get some love and heck, even the dreaded Vox Day included Coherence in his Rabid Puppies list, but alas, we get 5 blockbusters. But they are actually very good blockbusters, so there is that. Update: There is speculation that Coherence was left off because IMDB marks it as a 2013 release and thus would not be eligible for a 2014 award. Dooks.

Comments are still borked right now, so if you have any comments, feel free to email me at mciocco at gmail or hit me up on twitter @mciocco (or @kaedrinbeer if you’re a lush). Apologies, I am the worst. Will have to make a more concerted effort to fix the problems with comments in the near future.

So there you have it. I don’t think I’ll be spending much time on the whole political war going on with this stuff, but I suspect it will be unavoidable in some places. Expect some link roundups in the near future, followed by reviews. I will still try my best to let the works speak for themselves though. It may be a few weeks before I finish off my current reading, so I probably won’t get to any reviews until May-ish.

My 2015 Hugo Award Nominations

The Hugo Award Nomination Period ended last night, and miracle of miracles, I managed to get my ballot in on time. I suppose the value of posting this list after the deadline is questionable, but we’re that kind of timely here at Kaedrin (meaning, not timely at all). But I suppose if you’re looking to see what I enjoyed from last year’s spate of Science Fiction, this is a pretty good place to start. For the most part, this is just an expanded version of the list I posted in January, and that commentary is generally just as relevant here (most of the comments here will be about the additions and possibly some general expectations). Additions are noted with an asterisk (*)

Best Novel:

My initial three picks were all longshots. A Darkling Sea has a very outside chance (but I’m guessing it unlikely, and its buzz factor seems to be waning), The Martian suffers from an eligibility question (more on why I’m still including it here, though at this point, I think everyone’s fears mean that even if is eligible, it won’t get nominated because everyone is leaving it off their list), and A Sword Into Darkness is self-published mil-SF that the literati probably would hate. The two additions are considerably more likely to be nominated. Annihilation is a near certain shoe-in for a nomination (it’s already got a Nebula nom) and pretty good odds on taking the prize. I just finished The Three-Body Problem myself and will probably write a full post about it at some point, but it’s been steadily picking up steam since it’s release in November. Unfortunately, a lot of mainstream buzz (like this New Yorker article) appear to be hitting a little too late to really influence the nomination process. On the other hand, it did garner a Nebula nomination and it ticks a bunch of typical Hugo checkboxes, so it’s got a good chance. While I wasn’t a huge fan, I would also predict Leckie’s Ancillary Sword will grab a nomination because of the runaway success of Ancillary Justice (last year’s winner) and generally positive reviews. Scalzi’s Lock In has a decent chance, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets left out either. I’m betting Correia will be one of the few beneficiaries of the Sad Puppy campaign, and possibly Butcher’s Skin Game while we’re at it. There’s usually some sort of fantasy novel in contention as well, but I’m not too familiar with those…

Best Novelette

Still not sure if the first two are actually Novelettes, but hey, I’m putting them there. Wanna fight about it? The addition is The Bonedrake’s Penance, which I guess has some mild buzz, and Yoon Ha Lee seems like a rising star type (I’m certainly a new fan). No idea what else would tickle fandom for these short fiction categories.

Best Short Story:

  • Periapsis by James L. Cambias (from Hieroglyph)
  • Covenant by Elizabeth Bear (from Hieroglyph)
  • The Day It All Ended by Charlie Jane Anders (from Hieroglyph)
  • Passage of Earth by Michael Swanwick (from Clarkesworld)*
  • The Knight of Chains, the Deuce of Stars by Yoon Ha Lee (from Space Opera)*

Note that Tuesdays With Molakesh the Destroyer by Megan Grey is not eligible for this year’s awards (something about the magazine being a January 2015 edition that just happened to be available in December). It will, however, be eligible next year (at which point, I genuinely expect it to be nominated). Covenant seems to have buzz and Hieroglyph was a popular anthology, so it has that going for it. Passage of Earth also feels like it has some buzz. However, the short story category is infamously fickle, with votes spread out amongst the widest range of stories (many stories which could potentially be nominated aren’t because they fall short of getting 5% of the overall vote). It’s always something of a crapshoot. All I know is that I liked just about all of the short stories I read this year much better than any of the nominees from last year.

Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form:

Coherence and The One I Love are far and above my favorites of the year and I’m pretty sure they won’t even come close to being nominated (both recommended though!). I swapped out The Lego Movie for Interstellar (though I think both of those will end up making the cut) I also wouldn’t be surprised if movies I didn’t care for do well, notably Snowpiercer.

Best Related Work:

This is a weird, catch-all category, but I actually think these two things have a good chance of winning (gasp, I aligned with the Sad Puppies on one of these). One thing I feel bad about is not nominating A Report on Damage Done by One Individual Under Several Names by Laura Mixon. It’s placement in terms of categories is unclear though. George R.R. Martin apparently recommended her for Best Fan Writer, which didn’t seem quite right, and I just plain forgot to add it to my ballot last night. Which is a shame, because that is some tour-de-force shit that Mixon put together there.

Best Professional Artist:

  • Stephan Martiniere for covers like The Immortality Game and Shield and Crocus*

Yeah, I guess I fell for Ted Cross’s push for Stephan (who provided the art for Cross’s book), but this artist is genuinely talented and I kinda love his covers.

Best Fan Writer:

I don’t have a lot here, but Nussbaum is a regular read and I think she should have won last year, so here we are again.

And that just about covers it. Official nominations will be announced, as usual, during the inexplicable Easter day timeframe, so look for some comments on the subject then.

SF Short Story Review, Part 1

I was pretty disappointed by last year’s Hugo slate of short stories, so I wanted to make sure I read enough stories this year to nominate worthwhile stuff. Of course, the short fiction categories are infamously fickle and don’t enjoy quite as much in the way of convergence as the novels do (meaning that a very wide array of stories are nominated with little chance of any individual story standing out from the crowd – this is why there often isn’t a full ballot nominated, as many of the contenders never reach the 5% threshold needed to make the Hugo ballot). The good news here, though, is that I enjoyed almost all of the stories in this post a lot more than almost any of the stories nominated in short fiction categories last year. Go figure. That being said, I will probably only nominate a couple of these because there’s only so many slots…

  • Whaliens (aka How to Win a Hugo Award) by Lavie Tidhar (Short Story, ~4900 words) – This is a goofy little story about whale-like aliens (i.e. Whaliens) that visit Earth and demand to convert to Judaism. As the alternate title might indicate, it also involves a dismissive sub-plot about science fiction writers that feels rather petty and dismissive. It’s a fun, short read and worth checking out, but it’s not going to be on my ballot.
  • Toad Words by Ursula Vernon (Short Story, ~800 words) – This year’s “If You Were a Dinosaur My Love”, it is marginally more fantastical, but still pretty emphatically not my thing.
  • Tuesdays With Molakesh the Destroyer by Megan Grey (Short Story, ~4000 words) – Every once in a while, you hear about how someone infamous and/or super evil spends their spare time doing mundane things like watching Seinfeld or something, and that kinda tickles me. So this story about a fire demon ironically condemned to live out his retirement in exile in Minnesota (i.e. a very cold, snowy place) really clicked with me. Molakesh enjoys hot chocolate and chatting with his teenaged neighbor. There’s a moment when I was worried that this story would go off the rails, but it sticks the ending, and I found this the most enjoyable of the stories in this post. Will almost certainly make my ballot.
  • Passage of Earth by Michael Swanwick (Short Story, ~7400 words) – Interesting story about an autopsy performed on an alien that takes a hard turn about halfway through. It descends a bit into literary angst for a while, but it’s not undone by it and reasons its way to a natural conclusion. Strong contender for my ballot.
  • The Innocence of a Place by Margaret Ronald (Short Story, ~4100 words) – Haunting tale of a historian’s attempt to understand the disappearance of students from the Braxton Academy for Young Girls. There’s a beautifully ominous tone to the story and it is very effective… as horror. As the obvious explanations are thrown out, what is left is speculation on the fantastical, so I don’t know that this is quite as non-SF as, say, last year’s Wakulla Springs, but it’s borderline. I don’t think I’d nominate it, but I would not get worked up about it if it got nominated…
  • Brute by Rich Larson (Short story, ~4800 words) – Entirely predictable tale of two scavengers who run across a piece of technology that bonds to one of them and gives him super powers or something like that. It’s the sort of thing you’ve seen a million times, but it is a reasonably well executed version of the story. That being said, it’s not exactly award-worthy material.
  • Death and the Girl from Pi Delta Zeta, by Helen Marshall – Seems like it would hit on that mundane life of infamous personages thing that I like so much, but this one is distinctly less effective to my mind. Well executed for what it is, but not really my thing.
  • Cimmeria: From the Journal of Imaginary Anthropology by Theodora Goss (Short Story, ~6800 words) – A bunch of anthropology students invent a country from scratch and are then surprised to learn that the country they made up actually exists. They go to visit and find that many of the small details they have invented for the culture have unintended consequences. This becomes particularly important when one of the anthropologists marries the princess. A dense, Borges-like story (Borges is explicitly referenced in the story, so this is an obvious referent) that I found appealing and interesting. A potential nominee…
  • The Bonedrake’s Penance by Yoon Ha Lee (Novelette, ~9800 words) – Notable for its elaborate but not overwhelming worldbuilding, this follows the story of a human girl raced by an alien war machine that had given up war. Perhaps more concerned with that central relationship than the detailed setting, it works better than I’d expect. Would love to read more from Yoon Ha Lee… Would be a contender for my ballot if I hadn’t actually done so:
  • The Knight of Chains, the Deuce of Stars by Yoon Ha Lee (Short Story, ~5700 words) – So I did seek out more Yoon Ha Lee, and this one is even better than the last one. Interestingly, there are a lot of similarities. Both have an archive of sorts (games, in this one), a guardian (a warden, in this one), and both feature disgraced warriors of some kind. This one is about the warden of a collection of games and a warrior who intends to bargain for a game that will help her keep a promise. They play a game with high stakes and the byzantine worldbuilding implied by the games is quite impressive.

I may sneak in a few more stories before the deadline, but I’m planning on posting my updated ballot on Sunday, so stay tuned.

SF Book Review, Part 19

As we near the Hugo nomination deadline, I have been surprisinly lax in my reading. That being said, I have made pretty good progress in terms of reading books I thought might be worthwhile, even if I won’t end up nominating most of them. I’m going to make a last minute push for a couple books and/or stories though, so we’ll see (nomination deadline is March 10). Here’s some stuff I’ve read recently:

  • The Hallowed Hunt by Lois McMaster Bujold – The third book in Bujold’s Chalion series, this one seems almost completely disconnected from the previous two entries. As such, it takes a bit to get going, and unfortunately it never quite reaches the heights of Bujold’s other work. Still, there are some fine sequences and decent ideas explored here. The book opens with Lady Ijada defending herself against a half-mad prince. Lord Ingrey is dispatched to investigate and transport the body to its final resting place. He is also tasked with escorting the accused killer to judgement. With the price dead and the King on his deathbed, the Crown is in play, and their journey is beset on all sides by intrigue and danger. The book perhaps bides too much time on this journey. The series has been pretty talky so far, but nothing compared to this book, which is extremely dialogue heavy and filled with esoteric lore that was only hinted at in previous entries. It’s certainly not a bad novel or anything like that, but it was a little disappointing when compared to Bojold’s other work…
  • Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer – The first in a trilogy, this covers an expedition to the myserious Area X. Cut off from the rest of the continent by unknown means, no one knows what the deal is with Area X. Numerous expeditions have been dispatched to explore the area. Some were uneventful, some resulted in mass suicide, some ended in violence, and some of the expeditions just disappeared. This book contains the 12th expedition as it makes its way through Area X. Things almost immediately start to deteriorate. The general tenor of this book makes it feel a lot like Lost – a mysterious and isolated locale, previous visitors with unknown motivations, strange artifacts, and so on. Like Lost, I’m not entirely sure how much of this will work out in the end, but I’m comforted by the fact that the author completed all three volumes and published them in short order, which makes me think he may actually have a plan. The story is told in first person, as if we’re reading one of the expedition member’s journals, and VanderMeer has a very ornate style. This is a short book, but it’s dense and introspective. Which is not to say that it isn’t exciting or compelling. The central mysteries are well drawn and intriguing, and there are some revelations later in the book that are eye opening. This will almost certainly be nominated for a Hugo (It’s already garnered a Nebula nom), though I’m a little more mixed on it. Definitely one of the better novels I’ve read from 2014 though, and I do plan on reading the next volume in the series (which I think says a lot).
  • Undercity by Catherine Asaro – Set in Asaro’s well-established Skolian Empire universe, this is the start of a new series of books covering Major Bhaajan, formerly military, now a P.I. The initial segment of this book is fantastic. Bhaajan is hired by royalty to locate a missing prince, and Bhaajan has to return to her former home in the Undercity (a series of caves and slums under the Empire’s capital city) to investigate. This section moves surprisingly quick, then the story transitions to a slower pace, dealing more with the politics and sociology of the Undercity. It almost makes me wonder if the first section was published separately (Update: apparently, it was!) The middle act, dealing with maneuverings of drug cartels in the Undercity, is a bit too slow and repetitive, but things come together well enough in the final act, as the cartels plan to go to war and other revelations about the population of the Undercity come to pass. I enjoyed this and am curious to check out more of Asaro’s work, though I don’t know how likely I am to read the next Bhaajan book (which, again, says something I guess). Not something I plan on nominating, but I’m glad I read it…
  • Riding the Red Horse – I took a flier on this collection of short stories and essays mostly because it features Eric Raymond’s first published fiction. I did not realize at the time that one of the editors was the dreaded Vox Day, but his commentary before each story (he shares this duty with Tom Kratman) gives him away (and generally, this commentary was unnecessary and needlessly dismissive of other perspectives). That being said, folks familiar with military history will recognize some of the names, like Bill Lind or Jim Dunnigan, who mostly provide the non-fiction portions of the book. Some of these could be eye opening, but only if you’ve never heard of Lind’s conception of 4th Generation warfare, etc… Some highlights from the book:
    • Sucker Punch by Eric S. Raymond – This was the reason I bought the book, and it comports itself well. I don’t think it will be making my ballot, but it is a short, interesting, and fun little military story about naval warfare (and how certain weapons might change the game). Worth reading!
    • The Hot Equations: Thermodynamics and Military SF by Ken Burnside – Those familiar with the Atomic Rockets website will be right at home with this essay. The pragmatic considerations of space travel, in particular the problems posed by Thermodynamics, are applied to typical military SF tropes, and the results aren’t pretty. The unimaginative would probably find this to be a killjoy, but the notion of working within our understanding of science when writing SF is one of the things that makes SF so great. This is one of the Sad Puppy nominees (under Best Related Work), and for once, I agree with them.
    • The General’s Guard by Brad R. Torgersen – Interesting story of a General who attempts to unite various factions of his empire by forcing them to work together. From each tribe, he selects the strongest… and weakest member. It seems reminiscent of the other Torgersen stories that I’ve read; he seems every concerns with finding ways to interact productively with people from different backgrounds (whether they be aliens and humans, folks from different tribes, or two people with vastly different skillsets).
    • Turncoat by Steve Rzasa – This tale of an AI that inhabits a ship might be my favorite story in the collection, and the idea gets explored well enough despite the large amount of previous material with similar subject matter (i.e. The Ship Who Sang, Ancillary Justice, etc…) and it hints at some troubling things about potentially “uploaded” humans that might be weird in the longrun. Will probably make my ballot, though I’m not sure if this is a short story or a novelette…

    If you’re a fan of military fiction (and non-fiction), you’ll probably enjoy this collection. There were only a couple of stories that I didn’t enjoy, and a lot of them were decent. I even enjoyed Vox Day’s story (not award worthy, but definitely a sight better than that thing that was nominated last year).

And there you have it. I’m going to try and read some more short stories, novelettes, and maybe a novella or two before the Hugo nominations deadline. I will post my final ballot sometime next week…

Hugo Awards: Puppies Unleashed

As Hugo Awards nomination season hits full swing, the Sad Puppy slates have finally be unleashed. For the uninitiated, the Sad Puppies are a semi-organized response to the notion that recent Hugo slates have trended away from traditional SF, with it’s emphasis on sense of wonder and storytelling (the name emerges out of the notion that recent Hugo slates were so depressing that they were making cute puppies sad, or something along those lines). There is an ideological component to the movement as well, and it seems the Right/Libertarian are on the Puppies’ side, while Left/SJW are opposed. Or something. In reality, I don’t really buy that dichotomy, and that’s one of the reasons I can’t seem to get on board with the typical responses to the Sad Puppies (for it or against it). To me, it’s just another input into the process, which is pretty much how it’s supposed to work.

For the record, Brad Torgersen has posted the official Sad Puppy slate over at his blog. Vox Day has posted a variant, which he calls (perhaps unsurprisingly, given his usual tone) Rabid Puppies. There’s a pretty large overlap, though enough differences to be annoying. Assorted thoughts and ramblings are below:

  • The first thing that jumps out at me with these slates is how huge they are (both are basically a full nominating ballot – somewhere on the order of 50-75 overall between the two lists). I think part of the reason Sad Puppies 2 enjoyed success last year was that the list was relatively small (12 choices in various categories), so the impact was concentrated on those works. Remember, the people who nominate for the hugo are actually people! They will not have read this entire slate and chances are, there are plenty of things on the slate that they did read, but would not nominate. Anecdotal evidence indicates this was the case last year, and even the hard numbers show that there was significant variance in the amount of nominating votes for each work. I expect people’s votes will be spread out across the entire slate, and since there are so many options, that may spread things too thin.
  • Comparing the two lists is interesting, as is the tone in which they’re presented. Torgersen is very careful to indicate that his list “is a recommendation. Not an absolute.” He has repeatedly mentioned that it’s not about politics, but about story and fun. He also acknowledges the idea that you might not like works on the slate (though “we suspect you might”). Torgersen also, much to his credit, made sure that his own works would not appear on his slate. Day, on the other hand, is extremely combative about the whole situation and appears to be much more ideologically motivated (he explicitly mentions the “science fiction Right”). He encourages folks who trust his opinion on the subject to “nominate them precisely as they are”. He also nominated himself in multiple categories (though in the editing categories, not the fiction categories). On the other hand, he nominated Coherence on the Dramatic Presentation Long Form category, which is a personal favorite that I’d love to see get nominated (even though it probably wouldn’t). This is why I can never get on board with Sad Puppies, nor can I really get too worked up about it either. Just because a work appears there doesn’t mean it is or is not worthy of a nomination.
  • In terms of The Martian, it looks like fears of its eligibility (or lack thereof) means that it was not included in either slate. I actually emailed the Sasquan administrators, but their (perfectly reasonable) response was: “the standard Hugo committee policy for many years has been to not make suggestions on nominations or rule on eligibility of nominated items until nominations close”. Apparently, when eligibility of a specific work was announced in the past, other nominees felt it represented an endorsement, so the policy is to maintain impartiality. This makes perfect sense. Interestingly, Vox Day actually quotes me on the matter, though as usual, his tone is way more combative and makes my post seem equally so, even though I’m not. My example of a self-published work that was later published and then nominated was John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War. Day hates Scalzi, and uses my example as evidence that the Hugos are corrupt or something. This was not my intention at all, and it’s weird to see my words deployed in such a fashion. Indeed, I’ve always thought that the Sad Puppy attitude towards Scalzi has been rather weird. Yes, Scalzi is outspoken on his blog about certain leftist issues, but for the most part, his fiction is fantastic and entertaining stuff. You could make an argument that something like Redshirts was only nominated because he’s popular with a certain segment of fandom, but that’s the kind of thing that happens with populist awards. More to the point, Scalzi’s work tends to be that more old-school science fiction. Redshirts has it’s flaws, but it’s a very fun book, exactly the sort of thing I’d expect to see on the Sad Puppy slate (except that, obviously, it enjoys wide popularity across most of fandom). That never made sense to me. On the other hand, “Shadow War of the Night Dragons: Book One: The Dead City: Prologue” is, in fact, a pretty lame nomination.
  • Eric S. Raymond appears on both slates as a nominee for the Campbell Award (for the most promising new writer in SF), which, as he himself notes, is a little strange:

    I will stipulate that I think my one published work of SF, the short story Sucker Punch, isn’t bad. If it were someone else’s and I was wearing my reviewer hat, I’d probably say something encouraging about it being a solid, craftsmanlike first effort that delivers what its opening promises and suggests the author might be able to deliver quality work in the future.

    But, Campbell Award material? A brilliant comet in the SF firmament I am not. I don’t really feel like I belong on that shortlist – and if I’m wrong and I actually do, I fear for the health of the field.

    What bothers me more is the suspicion that my name has been put forward for what amount to political reasons.

    I’ve read Sucker Punch and think it’s a perfectly cromulent short story, but if I were to nominate it for something, it’d be for the short story category (which, I suspect will not happen, since it will probably be a crowded category for me by the time nominations close). As a Campbell nominee, I would want some sense that he, you know, intends to write a lot more fiction. I have no doubt that he could write more fiction (even great fiction), I just don’t see him taking that on. He’s been pretty clear that his focus is on hacking and Open Source advocacy (at which, he is very good and very successful) and that he did this mostly on a lark. Which makes this nomination kinda confusing. (Update: he basically confirms this in the comments)

  • Speaking of Eric Raymond, he has some keen insights into the whole culture war of sorts that’s happening in SF right now (of which Sad Puppies is a symptom) that pretty well match up with where I’m coming from. His key insight is that this is not a political issue, but rather a matter of “Literary Status Envy”:

    Literary status envy is the condition of people who think that all genre fiction would be improved by adopting the devices and priorities of late 19th- and then 20th-century literary fiction. Such people prize the “novel of character” and stylistic sophistication above all else. They have almost no interest in ideas outside of esthetic theory and a very narrow range of socio-political criticism. They think competent characters and happy endings are jejune, unsophisticated, artistically uninteresting. They love them some angst.

    People like this are toxic to SF, because the lit-fic agenda clashes badly with the deep norms of SF. Many honestly think they can fix science fiction by raising its standards of characterization and prose quality, but wind up doing tremendous iatrogenic damage because they don’t realize that fixating on those things (rather than the goals of affirming rational knowability and inducing a sense of conceptual breakthrough) produces not better SF but a bad imitation of literary fiction that is much worse SF.

    His post on the deep norms of SF is also worth checking out. I find myself mostly agreeing with this analysis (and honestly, he gives a much better primer for the factions involved and general situation than I do above). All those things that literary fiction hates are what I love about science fiction. And I tend to dislike the angst that permeates literary fiction (that this often manifests as wallowing in identity politics and misery is incidental). This focus on literary fiction is why stuff like Wakulla Springs gets nominated for a Hugo, despite not even being slightly SF or even Fantasy. It’s a very well written story, to be sure, but it’s so far outside the boundaries of any type of genre fiction (let along SF) that I can see why the Sad Puppy campaign is happening.

So there you have it. I do not particularly hate or love Sad Puppies. Call that feckless if you want. I just know what I like. Sometimes that happens to coincide with the Sad Puppies, sometimes not. Go figure.

Hugo Award Season 2014

It’s that time of year again. The Hugo Award Nomination Period has begun, and of course, all the requisite whining has begun. People whining about Awards Eligibility Posts, people whining about politics, people whining about the people whining about politics. And wonder of wonders, some people are actually talking about books they like, compiling lists of things to check out before nominations close, or coming up with thorough models to predict who will get a nomination this year. How revolutionary. I’ll do my best to focus on same, but I’m sure I’ll be sucked into some controversy or other.

Last year, I was a little gunshy about participating in the nomination process. This was mostly due to the fact that I hadn’t really read a comprehensive selection of 2013 books or stories. It was also before I realized that some people don’t bother reading all the nominees before voting or nominate things for purely ideological reasons. I also realized that I was very nearly one of the two votes that could have put Lauren Beukes’s excellent time travel serial killer novel The Shining Girls on the ballot. This year, I won’t claim to have read particularly deep into the catalog, but I read more than I did last time and there are definitely some stories I would like to nominate. My current nomination ballot, some thoughts on same, and some things I’d like to read before I finalize my ballot are below. Knock yourself out. Comments are still wonky, so if you have any recommendations, feel free to email me at mciocco at gmail or hit me up on twitter @mciocco (or @kaedrinbeer if you’re a lush).

Best Novel:

All three are kinda longshots. A Darkling Sea has the best chance to make it, as there is at least some minimal buzz surrounding it. A Sword Into Darkness is self-published and not typical Hugo material, but I really enjoyed it (and not for nothing, but there’s a fair chance it would make the Sad Puppies slate, which could improve its chances). The Martian suffers from eligibility issues – it was self published in 2012, then snapped up by a publisher and put into fancy editions and audio books in 2014 (where it has sold extremely well). General consensus seems to be that it will not be eligible, but I think there are a few things going for it. One is that self-published works that get bought up by a real publisher and come out a year or two later have made it onto the ballot before (an example that comes to mind is Scalzi’s Old Man’s War, which was self-published in 2003 or 2004, after which it was promptly bought up by Tor and republished in 2005, garnering a Hugo nomination in 2006). Another is that I’ve heard that version published in 2014 has some differences from the self-published version, but I have not confirmed that (and it’s very possible that this is not true), which might call some things into question. In any case, unless someone official makes a definitive statement about The Martian being ineligible, I plan to include it on my ballot.

Best Novelette?

  • Atmosphæra Incognita by Neal Stephenson (from Hieroglyph)
  • A Hotel in Antarctica by Geoffrey Landis (from Hieroglyph)

Here’s the thing with short fiction, I think it’s pretty easy to tell the difference between a short story and a novella and a novel, but when you throw novelette into the mix, it becomes much less intuitive. I’m pretty sure the above two stories are long enough to be a Novelette, but I’m not positive. Also, you’ll be seeing a lot of Hieroglyph in the nominations today. Hopefully I’ll be able to pad this out with some other sources of short fiction as time goes on. Also, maybe I’ll find a novella or two!

Best Short Story:

  • Periapsis by James L. Cambias (from Hieroglyph)
  • Covenant by Elizabeth Bear (from Hieroglyph)
  • The Day It All Ended by Charlie Jane Anders (from Hieroglyph)

This is a a pretty good list here, and I’m reasonably certain that at least one will come close (Covenant seems to have some buzz). I will most certainly be checking out additional short stories though, so hopefully I can find some more nominees.

Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form:

While I don’t claim comprehensive selection in my reading, I’m much closer when it comes to film. Alas, I’m pretty sure my two favorite nominees (Coherence and The One I Love) will not make the cut, and the one I’m most ambivalent about (Interstellar) seems to be a shoe-in. I also wouldn’t be surprised if movies I didn’t care for do well, notably Snowpiercer.

Again, comments are still wonky on here right now, so if you have any recommendations, feel free to email me at mciocco at gmail or hit me up on twitter @mciocco (or @kaedrinbeer if you’re a lush).

I think we’ll leave it there for now and revisit some other categories or perhaps some stuff I want to read next week. Until then, happy nominating.

Hieroglyph

A few years ago, Neal Stephenson wrote an article in Wired called Innovation Starvation. In it, he laments the decline of the space program (“Where’s my donut-shaped space station? Where’s my ticket to Mars?”) and a general failure of our society to get big things done. He brought up concerns at a conference, and promptly got a finger pointed back at him: if Science Fiction authors weren’t so pessimistic, they might have inspired a new generation of folks who actually could get things done. Intrigued, Stephenson set out to correct that imbalance with something called Project Hieroglyph a collaboration between SF authors and real scientists at Arizona State University. There were two major challenges that Stephenson laid out: a moratorium on dystopian futures as well as “technology so advanced that the world it describes bears little or no resemblance to our own world.” In short, no “hackers, hyperspace and holocaust”. The result of all this is a collection of short stories, also called Hieroglyph, that was recently published. I would probably have read this in any case, but I was also hoping to find some short fiction to nominate for the Hugo Awards. Alas, like most anthologies that I’ve read, this collection is decidedly hit or miss. Surprisingly, there are quite a few stories that do read like a dystopia, and many seem to have a fundamentally pessimistic idea at their core. This is quite distressing, considering that this collection was supposed to get us away from such things. It’s not all bad, of course, and there are several bright spots, but I was overall pretty disappointed.

  • Atmosphæra Incognita by Neal Stephenson – Unsurprisingly, this is one of my favorites of the collection. It’s a story about building a twenty-kilometer tall building. Stephenson explores the limits of our current civil engineering capabilities in his usual detail, and I am totally a sucker for the style. There are several moments of conceptual breakthrough and the sense of wonder is palpable. This is impressive since he’s not really proposing any crazy new technologies. This 20 km building is being built with current technologies, just on a much larger scale than anyone has actually dreamed to do. Stephenson, at least, seems to have taken his guidelines to heart. In addition, it feels like something actually happens in this story. Stephenson doesn’t downplay the difficulties of such a project, and the main conflict is derived from that, but his attitude is optimistic and the story is a great read. Highly recommended, and will probably be on my short fiction ballot somewhere (is this a short story or novelette?)
  • Girl In Wave : Wave in Girl by Kathleen Ann Goonan – The idea at the core of this story is an interesting one, a way to dramatically improve the learning capabilities of the brain, and Goonan does a decent enough job exploring the possibilities. Alas, there’s not much of a story to hang this on. It reads more like a history lesson or short memoir than a real story. Nothing wrong with that, to be sure, and the idea is at least interesting and optimistic. Ranking this somewhere near the top of the middle tier of the stories.
  • By the Time We Get To Arizona by Madeline Ashby – This one is about the interplay of technology with immigration. Once again, I’m not sure the story is particularly eventful, and the idea isn’t super clear either. In fact, one could read this more as a dystopia (especially with respect to the surveillance state), though Ashby thankfully doesn’t go fully down that path. This would be in the middle tier of the stories.
  • The Man Who Sold the Moon by Cory Doctorow – This is the longest story in the collection and it reads strangely dystopic in its outlook. It centers around a couple of Burning Man like festivals, and spends a lot of time going through automated 3D printer robot thingies. Eventually it gets to the interesting part, where we send a bunch of these robots to the Moon to create the building blocks for our next trip to the moon. Alas, I was not particularly inspired by this story. The impression I’m left with is that we’d send these robots up there, they would build a bunch of stuff for us, but we’d never get there because we’re too busy destroying ourselves back on Earth or something like that. Lower tier!
  • Johnny Appledrone vs. the FAA by Lee Konstantinou – Another seeming dystopia, exploring some interesting ideas about drones and the commons, but it’s still an ultimately pessimistic look. Lower tier!
  • Degrees of Freedom by Karl Schroeder – This is an odd one for me. On the one hand, it’s exploring one of the more relevant and important ideas in the anthology. It’s all about how Big Data and collaborative decision-making tools could make the political process more effective, and the system described here really stuck with me. Of course, we are talking about a short story here, so I have about a gazillion questions and am not really convinced that the particular implementation described in the story would work quite that well, but that’s also kinda the point. The particular system described here probably won’t work, but it does hit that goal of inspiration pretty hard. Bottom of the top tier!
  • Two Scenarios for the Future of Solar Energy by Annalee Newitz – This one takes the form of a guided tour through a couple of futuristic, carbon-neutral cities, each of which uses an approach that mimics biological processes in some way. It’s got some interesting ideas, but the “guided tour” approach didn’t really work that well for me. Middle tier.
  • A Hotel in Antarctica by Geoffrey Landis – An interesting idea and Landis does spend time working through the practical aspects of building a hotel in Antarctica. We hit it from many angles: political, environmental, and physical. There’s even a surprising interaction with an environmental activist, though I found that a bit on the nose too. Still, it’s a fun little story that ranks somewhere towards the bottom of the top tier here…
  • Periapsis by James L. Cambias – Among the more out-there efforts in terms of being very futuristic, but it’s not so far-fetched as to be unapproachable. It’s set in the far future, and it covers a competition amongst a bunch of young adults. The prize: citizenship on Deimos, one of Mars’ moons. Deimos has become the economic powerhouse of the solar system, and features a small population of very innovative people. This is one of the few short stories that actually feels like a story. There’s an actual plot here! And there’s plenty of interesting bits of technology and breakthroughs too. It’s among the best in the collection and I plan on nominating this for a Hugo. Top tier!
  • The Man Who Sold the Stars by Gregory Benford – An interesting story that covers how an ambitious businessman started mining out asteroids in order to fund his search for other Earth-like planets. It’s an odd one in that we’re spending time with the richest of the rich, but it’s implied that things aren’t going quite as well for everyone else, at least in the near term. By the end, though, things seem to be working out, and there’s a clever little bit around a nearby Earth-like planet that I enjoyed. Top of the middle tier? Bottom of the top tier?
  • Entanglement by Vandana Singh – This one really didn’t do it for me. It’s all climate change and misery. I think. The only thing I really remember about this story is how much I didn’t like it, which probably says something. Bottom tier!
  • Elephant Angels by Brenda Cooper – This one proposes the use of drones to prevent Ivory poaching (or track down the poachers after the fact). It’s an interesting idea, but comes off feeling a little slight compared to the other stories in the collection. Then again, that sorta rings true as well. Bottom of the middle tier.
  • Covenant by Elizabeth Bear – An interesting look at a convicted serial killer who gets “rightminded” to prevent future murders. It reminded me a little of Clockwork Orange, only it seems to approve of this treatment. There’s lots to dig into here from a moral and social aspect, and Bear also tells a quick little story here too. Bottom of the top tier.
  • Quantum Telepathy by Rudy Rucker – Lots of bioengineering and the titular concept of Quantum Telepathy work reasonably well, but it feels kinda like bio-punk or something like that. It’s a little too weird to be all that inspirational, but it works well enough I guess. Middle tier!
  • Transition Generation by David Brin – At first this one feels like a dystopia, but it turns out well in a fairly predictable way that is nonetheless pretty entertaining to read. Top of the middle tier!
  • The Day It All Ended by Charlie Jane Anders – One of the more fun entries in the collection, I have a hard time believing this could ever happen, but it’s still a fun story that tries to pull the rug out from underneath you several times. Anders is playing the game well enough that I don’t mind some of the more ludicrous aspects of the story. Top of the middle tier.
  • Tall Tower by Bruce Sterling – The second story about a giant tower, this one has a decidedly less optimistic approach, though it’s clearly not a dystopia or anything like that. I’ve never been a big fan of Cyberpunk, so perhaps it’s not surprising that the authors famous for that (see also: Rudy Rucker) don’t really connect with me. This story has some interesting stuff in it, but it also doesn’t really go anywhere.

And there you have it. There’s also an interview at the end that has some interesting stuff, as well as a few introductions that are interesting reading. On balance, it’s a decent collection, though again, it’s hit or miss, and there were several stories that baffled me by their inclusion. Still, I’ve got a solid two stories that I would like to nominate (the Stephenson and the Cambias)

SF Book Review, Part 18: First Contact

In recent readings, I seem to have inadvertently stumbled upon a series of First Contact stories. Like any sub-genre, these generally include other sub-genres (notably military SF and Space Opera), but there’s actually something of a through line with these three books that I found interesting. I will start with the most famous of the three, an exemplar frequently referenced when discussing First Contact stories:

  • The Mote in God’s Eye by by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle – This is one of those novels that shows up in “Best Of SF” lists all over the place, and as a mix of military SF, Space Opera, and First Contact, I was pretty well on board with the premise. And yet, it took me quite a while to actually get into the story, which is my primary problem with the book: it’s a bit on the bloated side. Much time is spent with a lot of characters, but they still tend to feel two dimensional and functional, rather than fully fleshed out. This is not normally a problem, except that a lot of time is spent on character building, so if you’re going to go down that route, you should make that worthwhile. Fortunately, the dilemma at the heart of the book is a truly fascinating puzzle, both in figuring out what is causing the problem and what kinds of solutions could be proposed. The puzzle is posed by the alien species first encountered by humans in this book, and results as an interplay between biology and sociology. It also explores the weird moral quandaries of First Contact stories. I won’t go into more detail here because while this book is a little bloated and long in the tooth, the core ideas are fantastic and worth exploring. Just be patient with it at first, as it takes a while before things start to get really interesting.
  • Blindsight by Peter Watts – This book made waves back in 2005/2006 (it was nominated for a Hugo), and as a novel of ideas, it is fantastic. Again, though, I’m left with characters that Watts wants to delve into, but are nevertheless not all that relatable. They are interesting, as a point of fact they are all “freaks” of one kind or another, but there’s no real point of entry for us normal humans. The closest we get is a guy named Siri Keeton, but he’s had portions of his brain removed and isn’t the most likable guy in the world. Again, not a terrible thing in a novel of ideas, except that Watts spends a bunch of time, for example, going into Siri’s childhood friend and ex-girlfriend. Outside of Siri, we’ve got a linguist with multiple personalities, a few other folks, and a Vampire. Yes, a vampire, and actually that’s one of my favorite bits about the book. As the universe of the book goes, Vampires were real predators from the distant past that have been resurrected through recovered DNA. They are far more intelligent than humans, their brains operating in parallel, allowing them to maintain multiple simultaneous thoughts in their mind. This leads to advanced pattern recognition, which ended up being their original downfall – they have trouble perceiving right angles (i.e. a cross would actually harm them). In the late 21st century, they’ve been resurrected and given drugs to help with the Euclidian problem, but their vastly different way of approaching the world means their speech patterns are cryptic and odd. They are very nearly an “alien” presence, and in fact, they are one of many explorations of consciousness that seems to really drive this book. The first contact with aliens goes rather oddly, and it’s never particularly clear if they are a conscious intelligence, or something less than that. There is a very rich exploration of the concept of Philosophical Zombies, for instance, among other ideas. Watts does not dumb anything down and really lays on the ideas thick. This makes for interesting reading, but it’s also clear that Watts has a very pessimistic approach to all of this, which hampers things a bit for me. Not fatally so, to be sure, and it’s clear that Watts knows his stuff and plays the game well. I just wish there was a bit more of a story here to hang all of these interesting ideas on… Watts just recently released a sequel of sorts (at least, it’s set in the same universe) called Echopraxia. After some initial Hugo Award buzz, the chatter around this seems to have dropped off considerably. I don’t know that I loved Blindsight enough to run after Echopraxia right away, but if it does get nominated, I will look forward to reading it.
  • A Sword Into Darkness by Thomas A. Mays – This was one of the 2014 books I was looking to read as a potential Hugo Nominee for next year’s awards. As a self-published book in a sub-genre that the general Hugo voter tends not to like (military SF), I seriously doubt it will make the slate (or even come close, really), but I may consider nominating it. As a first contact story, it takes the angle of a potential invasion of aliens. Given the realities of space travel, we can, of course, see them coming once they turn their ship around and start decelerating, thus revealing their thrust. This is an implicit reference to The Mote in God’s Eye, made before a character in this book explicitly references the classic. A team of humans on earth recognizes the threat and privately finances the creation of a greeting party (complete with new drive technologies and weapons). The government is initially dismissive, then helpful, then, well, I won’t spoil anything there. The science behind everything is very well thought out, especially when it comes to the weaponry and battle sequences. This shouldn’t be too surprising, since the author was a longtime member of the US Navy. Of course, so is our main protagonist, a pretty obvious Gary Stu character who gets to fall in love with another cliche or whatever you’d call the SF equivalent of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. That being said, these are fun characters. They don’t have a ton of depth, but at least Mays doesn’t try to shoehorn it in where it doesn’t belong. They do their job well enough, and I enjoyed spending time with them. The story is well paced and has a more satisfying plot than the previous two novels mentioned in this post. Mays’ prose style isn’t anything to write home about, but it’s functional enough and propels the story along nicely. As plot goes, it’s a pretty tight little story, and Mays even manages to do something that most alien invasion stories get wrong: he’s come up with a compelling reason for a violent invasion. This is one of the major problems with most invasion stories. Given the amazing amount of resources and time it takes to reach another planet with a sentient species, why bother? When it comes to resources, our planet is hardly unique. You could mine whatever you needed from elsewhere in our solar system (or presumably lots of other systems) without ever having to risk your target fighting back. And so on. Mays has devised a pretty interesting reason for the invasion, one that gets at the hard of what makes a lot of First Contact stories tick while managing to turn it on its end at the same time. It’s an impressive trick, and something that elevates this book above a simple trashy SF Space Opera or Military SF story. I’m still on the fence in terms of whether or not I would nominate this, but if I did, it would be primarily because of the motivation factor.

Up next on the First Contact front, The Three-Body Problem, another potential Hugo contender.