Review: Emma Bull: Bone Dance

Another foundling from the late, great Epinions.

A good argument can be made for calling Emma Bull’s Bone Dance an urban fantasy. There is a great deal to do with the spirit world, events that are only explainable in terms of magic of some sort, and there are visitations from supernatural beings. However, the fact that it is set in a post-Apocalyptic dystopia, technology plays a pivotal role (although that is more because of its scarcity than because of its reliability), and the magic comes from “hoodoo” (Voudou is part of modern reality, for some of us at least) make me place it firmly in science fiction (which does, after all, leave room for beings with advanced mental powers).

Sparrow is the narrator, leading us through the maze of the City (which is only the City, no other name; it could, perhaps, be Minneapolis, Bull’s hometown, although a couple of references seem to place it south of The Border) a few decades after someone pushed the Button. The history is unclear, which doesn’t really matter – the damage was done, and what we must deal with is now. Life in Sparrow’s City runs on the Deal – money is hard or soft, favors are owed one way or the other, and that is the basis of trade. Sparrow is an electronics expert (although the explanation for this comes not until midway through the story) who runs a black market in old videotapes and sound recordings – black market because most of the information from before the Bang is subject to seizure and destruction by whatever authority there may be. In this case, the authority is A. A. Albrecht, who holds a monopoly on energy in the City proper. He is also one of Sparrow’s best customers for old movies, especially originals (as opposed to dupes), which bring very high prices. One of Sparrow’s haunts is the Night Market, where goods of all sorts are available from dusk until dawn; another is the Underbridge, a dance and video club of which Sparrow is one of the operators. Sparrow also has blackouts – periods of varying length that leave no memories, although Sparrow’s absence is apparently not obvious. Into this mix comes Frances, who, as it turns out, is one of the legendary and hated Horsemen, secret military weapons who could take over the bodies of others. It was the Horsemen who pushed the Button; Frances is on her way to kill Tom Worecski, who put together the plot to rain nuclear death on the Western Hemisphere and duped Frances and other of the Horsemen into participating. Mick Skinner is another who comes into Sparrow’s ken, seemingly briefly, since we discover that he has been dead since before they met. Events conspire to draw Sparrow into Frances’ search for Tom, and the interlocking relationships – Sherrea, perhaps Sparrow’s closest friend, who is a talented card reader; Theo, one of the other operators of Underbridge, who has a surprising relationship to Albrecht; Cassidy, who is setting himself up to be a victim; and Dana, who has connections – provide a fair measure of suspense.

I don’t really know what to compare this book to in order to give you some touchstones – perhaps Dhalgren meets The Maltese Falcon. The environment is near-hallucinatory, the more so because the main lighting seems to be neon (the Night Market is, after all, the Night Market). The context is very rich and detailed. Sparrow’s blackouts begin to intercut with hallucinations, involving stick figures who pass on cryptic messages; one of them is definitely Kokopelli, the trickster-hero of the ancient American Southwest, who speaks in lines from movies; another is, perhaps, Oya Iansa, who governs wind and the lightning and brings change.

Sparrow is a true anti-hero. Many of the surprises in the book come from the fact that Sparrow has an obsession about privacy, and is consequently not terribly perceptive of the details of others’ lives, even when those details are available. The reason for Sparrow’s privacy fetish is unveiled halfway through the book, along with revelations about the Horsemen: Sparrow, it turns out . . . no, I don’t think I’ll tell.

Bull is one of those writers who can pull you into a context with no effort. As hallucinatory and distasteful as this world is, you are there, and you go willingly. Her prose is tight and lucid, particularly when she is writing about the supernormal, which only makes it more real. Voudou and the Tarot form a major part of the foundation for this story, along with the key plot issue, which is energy as the operative force of the universe. Bull’s treatment of this reminds me of the philosophy of the creators of the original Whole Earth Catalogue, which was one of my touchstones during the 1970s – if energy keeps the universe turning, anything that has the potential to block the flow – like money, or too much power in too few hands (which seems to have become the same thing) – needs to be dealt with very carefully, and sometimes very forcefully.

“Coming of age” has a multitude of meanings, and it’s a type of story that I seem to have been running into a lot lately. Maybe that’s because every work of fiction is about coming of age in some sense. We move from childhood to adolescence to adulthood to maturity, and not all parts of us make the progression at the same rate. Bone Dance is a coming-of-age story as much as anything else; and Bull uses it to explore one other thing that I want to note: how our perceptions of what others’ perceptions are or might be color our reactions – often before there is anything to react to. It’s also an object lesson in how opening ourselves to the wider world – the next stage of our lives – is often costly and hurtful, but necessary unless we are to give up our responsibility as human beings to be human beings.

This is a terrific book.

(Ace Books, 1991)

Review: Tanya Huff: A Confederation of Valor

Tanya Huff, who is one of the better (and wittier) writers of dark fantasy, also demonstrates that she is equally at home in military sf in A Confederation of Valor an omnibus edition of her first two Confederation novels, Valor’s Choice and The Better Part of Valor.

Both stories center on Staff Sergeant Torin Kerr, a Marine in the Confederation forces. In the first book, Torin is tapped to put together a platoon as escort and honor guard for a diplomatic mission to the Silsviss, an aggressive species who will be a valuable addition to the Confederation in its ongoing war against the Others. The Confederation, composed originally of species that had “evolved beyond” war, has accepted Humans, Taykan, and Krai as members because of their desperate need for species that hadn’t evolved quite as far as they had. The wrinkle here is that the commander of the Marines is a brand-new second lieutenant, a diTayken who just happens to be the other participant in Torin’s all-night encounter on the last night of her liberty. Torin wonders why a combat platoon is needed as an honor guard, but, as things turn out, as the mission is on its way to the final round of meetings, its airship is shot down over a reserve that is home to what can best be describe as several bands of hormonally hopped-up teenagers whose repertoire of social skills is pretty much limited to dares, challenges, and gang wars.

Needless to say, Kerr survives this and finds herself next tapped to lead a group of Marines to guard a scientific expedition to investigate a ship from an unknown alien species. To add to the pain, the troop is commanded by a Krai captain who is being fast-tracked for promotion for political reasons and whose ability at self-promotion is his major strength. As it turns out, the ship has also been discovered by the Others. And just to make things interesting, the ship seems to have its own agenda.

OK – these are good reads, witty, engaging, fast-paced adventures in which, just as everything gets under control, someone – or some thing – throws a monkey wrench into the works. Huff is playing to her strengths here: deft characterizations, sharp, prickly dialogue, clear story lines. Yes, there are clichés and stereotypes, but another of Huff’s strengths is that she can use things like that and make them fresh. Her use of the various species plays into this: the diTaykan are what Huff terms “enthusiastically indiscriminate” and the Krai can and will eat almost anything. The appetites of the diTaykan and the Krai provide ample opportunity for some snappy comments and faintly scandalous humor. And let’s not forget Huff’s rendering of commissioned officers, one of the favorite targets of any enlisted person (figuratively, of course). General Morris, who is the one who gets Torin into these situations, is the prototype of the politician in uniform, as much as Torin is the prototypical sergeant. Captain Carvag, the Krai captain of the Berganitan, the ship that winds up transporting Torin and her troop to both assignments, is the other side of command: the hard-bitten, no-nonsense ship’s captain who knows her people and how to handle them, including when to leave them alone and let them do their jobs.

There is another layer under this, if you care to look for it: Huff has set up a situation that has built into it some commentary on tolerance, acceptance, and knowing when it’s not your business. It’s not blatant, but it’s there.

(Penguin/Random House, 2015)

Review: Kerry Conran: Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow

Formerly of the site known as Epinions.

Someone is abducting scientists. We learn this when the Hindenburg III docks in New York, and one of the passengers, Dr. Vargas (Julian Curry) urgently requests that a package be delivered for him. And then giant robots attack the city. Ace reporter Penny Perkins (Gwyneth Paltrow) is on it -- to the extent that she almost gets squashed. (When I say "giant robots," I mean "giant robots.") She calls Sky Captain (Jude Law), who happens to be an old flame and the leader of a squad of mercenary pilots. Together, with the invaluable help of Sky Captain's trusty sidekick, Dex (Giovanni Ribisi), they set out to discover what's what. "What," as it turns out, is nothing less than a plot to destroy the world, masterminded by one Dr. Totenkopf (in a posthumous cameo by Sir Lawrence Olivier). Along the way, they encounter more giant robots, a mysterious female assassin (Bai Ling), and Shangri La -- with a little help from another of Sky Captain's old flames, Franky (Angelina Jolie) and her squad of state-of-the-art fighter planes.

Full disclosure: I love this movie. I was totally captivated from the opening scenes. I think you have to have grown up on the pulps and the old "science fiction" serials from the Thirties -- Flash Gordon comes to mind -- and maybe even some of the Fifties potboilers like War of the Worlds. And it is pure pulp fiction, from the story to the characters.

First off, Paltrow as Perkins is superb -- it's the kind of role she seems to move into naturally: a little cheeky, a little stubborn, even sometimes a little vulnerable. It's pure Thirties, and she got it down cold. Jolie is also perfect as Franky, with just the right combination of humor and command. Law's characterization of Sky Captain fits the milieu: he's the Thirties hero, witty and distanced, who always knows more than he's telling. He's kind of low-key, but it does fit the character. I could wish that Law had more presence, though -- there's an intangible something that's not coming through.

The big plus for me is the visuals. This is a beautiful film, with the luminosity you find in the very best black-and-white movies of the Thirties, which is unheard of in color films. The color itself is beautiful: it's understated, not particularly naturalistic (as we've come to interpret that through Kodak's supersaturated hues), with a sort of sepia-pink undertone, and perfectly apt. It's like the whole move has been hand-colored, and it's gorgeous. And the effects are straight out of those Fifties potboilers, but smoother. (It turns out that the entire film, except for the live actors, was created on computer.)

A few random notes:

One glaring error in the script: Perkins refers to "World War I." This film takes place in about 1938 -- World War II hasn't happened.

I hadn't realized Jude Law was so pretty. With that one lock of hair falling over his eye, he's the perfect Thirties leading man.

I didn't realize it was Angelina Jolie as Franky until I looked at the credits.

Rated PG; running time: 106 min.

(Paramount Pictures, Brooklyn Films II, Riff Raff Film Productions, Blue Flower Productions, Filmauro, Natural Nylon Entertainment; 2004)

Review: J. J. Abrams: Star Trek: Into Darkness

The last Star Trek movie I was was, aptly enough, The Wrath of Khan. (I suppose that's a spoiler. Live with it.) Let me say right off the bat that Star Trek: Into Darkness is not that, and Benedict Cumberbatch is not Ricardo Montalban.

One man, John Harrison by name, has declared war on Star Fleet. It goes without saying that "John Harrison" is not his real name, and it turns out that he has, at least in his own mind, good reasons. Who he is and what his reasons are provide the basis of the story, as Capt. James T. Kirk and the crew of the starship Enterprise start off in pursuit, armed with 72 specially modified torpedoes. Their orders are simple: find him (he happens to be on the Klingon homeworld) and eliminate him. It's not going to be easy to pull this off: the likelihood of open war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation is all too high if they're discovered.

And don't think that possibility hasn't occurred to more than one person.

It's hard to know where to start with this one. I haven't been following the various Star Trek spin-offs on TV, or the films, so I'm just going to take this as a stand-alone, pretty much, except where it butts up against memory. (And yes, I realize this is a sequel, and I have since laid hands on the first one in this series, which I may review at some point.)

Let's start with the bones of the thing. The script is admirable, tight and focused, and the subplots are kept firmly under control. And we have preparation for the revelations (and hoo, boy! are there ever revelations!) and the reversals (plenty of those, too), not blatant, but they're there. One never gets the feeling that the writers reached into their handy-dandy bag of plot twists to keep the story going.

There's a good balance to the mood and tone, enough so that the funny parts are funny, the poignant parts grab at you, and the edge-of-the-seat parts keep you right where they want you.

Which brings us to the cast. Stellar. This is a younger Enterprise crew, and there's less of that "professional cool" I remember from the early TV series and films. Chris Pine's Kirk is not William Shatner's Kirk -- more openly headstrong, more openly rebellious, and equally stubborn, with a heavy dose of idealism. The same goes for Zachary Quinto's Spock -- yes, it's Spock, but not the Spock I remember. Anton Yelchin as Chekhov made quite an impression: he's young, he finds himself thrown into a situation in which he's barely treading water, and it's all there, the insecurity, the determination, the panic, the overriding need to handle it. And I have to mention Benedict Cumberbatch, who is a major reason I wanted to see this one. (I think I'm turning into a groupie.) Spoiler alert, although I don't know that I'm giving anything away here: Cumberbatch's Khan is not Montalban's Khan. Cumberbatch doesn't bother with bluster, and he's really, really scary: he's a portrait of cold purpose fueled by deep anger, driven past the point where questions of honor and fair play might matter.

Director J. J. Abrams has kept this one on course. There are a couple of scenes that could have been tighter, where the momentum falters, but only by a little: the film grabs you and holds you from the earliest scenes, clues are apparent without being blatant, the emotional continuity is coherent and believable. It's a beautifully constructed film, and it's to Abrams' credit that no single element rean away with it.

Random Observations:

I suppose the casting directors took into account the physical resemblances between this cast and the original cast. It's there -- Pine looks more and more like Shatner as the film progresses, Quinto bears an even stronger resemblance to Nimoy (who makes a guest appearance), even to the timbre of the voice, and Karl Urban could actually be a younger DeForest Kelley.

There is an intensely emotional scene between Spock and Kirk that is the culmination of the relationship we've seen throughout the film. I don't know that I'd call it "homoerotic" particularly -- I think that misses the point. It struck me as a comment on the human capacity for love (and remember, Spock is half human), with the conclusion that the boundaries of love are marked mainly by social conventions.

A thought on Star Trek: Those who follow science fiction have generally thrown up their hands at its various translations to film and television. Those adaptations often wound up being formulaic, trite, and not very imaginative, and all too often missed the most important thing: science fiction has always been a literature of ideas, of explorations starting with the question "What if. . . ?" Gene Roddenberry managed the substance, posing sometimes difficult questions in the context of space opera, not usually considered the most profound of sub-genres. It works.

(Paramount Picture, Skydance, Bad Robot, 2013) PG-13, 2 hr. 12 min.

In Memoriam

Ursula K. LeGuin, 1929-2018:

Photo:  Wikimedia Commons

Acclaimed science-fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin died Monday in her hometown of Portland, Ore., her agent confirmed. Le Guin was 88.

Although best known for her science fiction — particularly the Earthsea series — Le Guin was a creative, curious writer whose more than two dozen books encompassed fiction, poetry, essays, criticism, children's books, works of translation, fantasy and even blogging.

Oddly enough, I've only reviewed one of LeGuin's books ,Gifts, which review is not available right now but will be showing up at Green Man Review sometime in the (relatively) near future. I did include her in a series of essays on sexual identity in science fiction, which, alas, is no longer available online and seems to be missing from my files. She was one of the science fiction/fantasy writers of the 1970s and '80s who redrew the map, so to speak, on what was permissible in the genre in terms of sex and gender. The Left Hand of Darkness was one of the ground-breakers in that regard; if you've never read it, hunt up a copy.

I didn't agree with her statement that genre was a marketing tool for publishers; there's a lot more to genre fiction than that, in that each genre has its own tropes and its own landscape, so to speak.

At any rate, there are some people who should live forever. LeGuin was one of them.

Science Note: Nanotech to the Rescue

It seems that the only good news these days comes from science:

This graphic shows the results of a breakthrough discovery called
tissue nanotransfection. In laboratory tests at The Ohio State
University Wexner Medical Center, researchers were able to heal the
badly injured legs of mice in just three weeks, with no other
treatments, simply by touching the legs once with a high-tech silicone chip.

Researchers have developed a device that can switch cell function to rescue failing body functions with a single touch. The technology, known as Tissue Nanotransfection (TNT), injects genetic code into skin cells, turning those skin cells into other types of cells required for treating diseased conditions.

“It takes just a fraction of a second. You simply touch the chip to the wounded area, then remove it,” said Chandan Sen, PhD, director of the Center for Regenerative Medicine and Cell-Based Therapies at The Ohio State University Wexner Medical Center. “At that point, the cell reprogramming begins.”

In a series of lab tests, researchers applied the chip to the injured legs of mice that vascular scans showed had little to no blood flow. “We reprogrammed their skin cells to become vascular cells,” Sen said. “Within a week we began noticing the transformation.”

By the second week, active blood vessels had formed, and by the third week, the legs of the mice were saved—with no other form of treatment.

“It extends the concept known as gene therapy, and it has been around for quite some time,” said study collaborator James Lee, PhD, a professor of chemical and biomolecular engineering at Ohio State. “The difference with our technology is how we deliver the DNA into the cells.”

The implications are, to say the least, staggering.

"Better Living Through Technology" -- with a nod to Hugo Gernsback.

(Via Joe.My.God.)

What's New at Green Man Review

Lots of fun stuff today -- great books, wild music, and chocolate! So scoot on over.

What's New at Green Man Review

Yes, it's Sunday again, with more goodies at Green Man Review, including a new music review from me and a couple of fantasy/science fiction trilogies that were pretty damned good.

So click on through.

This Could Be Big

Ir probably will be -- computers that operate on light:

Researchers at the University of Pennsylvania have made an important advance in this frontier of photonics, fashioning the first all-optical photonic switch out of cadmium sulfide nanowires. Moreover, they combined these photonic switches into a logic gate, a fundamental component of computer chips that process information.

The nano-wires can manipulate light to make switches, the basic component of computers. Did you get that? Nano-switches. As in really, really, really tiny.

Vernor Vinge wrote a novel a few years ago, Rainbow's End, that postulated people being able to access the Internet through their clothes. Sony, I think, has already debuted a prototype of a computer built into eyeglasses. With this, they could build computers into contact lenses.

It's an amazing world. It's sort of sobering to realize that we're living in a science-fiction novel.

Reviews in Brief: R. M. Meluch's The Sagittarius Command

A little departure for us today, an old-fashioned space opera (known these days as "military sf") with a couple of interesting twists.

The Sagittarius Command is the third volume in R. M. Meluch's series, The Tour of the Merrimack. The known galaxy is dominated by two interstellar empires, the United States of America and the Palatine Empire, a resurrected Rome. In previous volumes, we've seen the reaction of both to the advent of the Hive, an alien species that travels in groups, seems to have no particular intelligence other than a hive-mind, and eats anything organic in its path. In previous volumes we've seen the discovery of the Hive, the victory of the Merrimack over Roman forces that enabled its captain, John Farragut, to enforce an alliance (called by the Romans "The Subjugation," and bitterly resented), and gotten a good idea of the political context, both interstellar and earthbound.

This installment begins with a surprise encroachment by the Hive on a Roman colony in Near Space, close to both Palatine and Earth. Farragut and the Merrimack are able to save most of the inhabitants and destroy the Hive (individually known as "gorgons," "soldiers," and "gluies," depending on the type), much to the disgust and resentment of its Roman garrison, Legion LXXI Draconis, and its commander, Herius Asinius. The Dracs wind up as part of Attack Group I when the allied strategy changes and it looks as though the point of origin of the Hive has been located.

Meluch's earlier works were relatively straightforward, hard-edged, poetic stories. The edge is here, as well, but this series is a space opera with a lot of intrigue and political maneuvering -- try to think of a cross between E. E. "Doc" Smith and C. J. Cherryh. She also set up an anomaly in the first volume that continues to play itself out, although at this stage I'm beginning to wonder whether it's a device she's actually going to use, or she's just playing with our heads: at the end of The Myriad, she shifted everything into an alternate universe. We're still in that universe, but the previous one does crop up in something that Farragut remembers that he shouldn't.

Characters, by the way, are a treat: larger than life, and basically stereotypical, but strongly drawn, and they do manage to surmount their origins to become real people. And the relationship between Farragut and Augustus, a Roman patterner, is a nice, edgy, not-quite-homoerotic kind of thing (although Augustus' interest is not entirely platonic). (Augustus' brain and body have been altered to enable him to process vast amounts of data and draw connections; he has no memory of anything before that process began.)

I've reviewed previous volumes in other places. The Myriad is at Rambles, and Wolf Star at Epinions. This one's published by DAW.

He's Such A Card!

More on Orson Scott Card's hysterical and ill-informed anti-gay screed from John Scalzi. Worth a read, and the comments are quite good as well.

I should note, also, that this is not the Orson Scott Card I remember from Songmaster. Not at all.

Prescience

I recently reviewed Vernor Vinge's Rainbow's End (which just won either a Hugo or Nebula award, I forget which) which included as part of the milieu Internet access through clothing:

I'm not sure that Vernor Vinge's Rainbows End counts as cyberpunk, although it might seem like it at first glance. The "cyber" part is there in full measure. Vinge envisions a world in the not-so-distance future in which clothes are the means of Internet access and most of "reality" is virtual.

This morning, I saw this story.

From clothes riddled with sensors to name tags that detect our moods, computing's next wave could unleash small devices that increasingly augment everyday activities with digital intelligence.

That was the predominant vision at a conference on "wearable computing" held this week in Boston, where researchers showed off prototypes and discussed ideas.

What can I say?

Gay SF

I've been reading a lot of anthologies of gay speculative fiction, both fantasy and science fiction, over the past few months and I did get around to reading Chrome last night. It occurs to me that there are two distinct "subgenres" here (if I can use that term, since I can't think of a better one offhand). The first is regular fantasy and science fiction, in which the issue of sexual identity has become, since the 1970s, part of the context: it is no longer a theme in and of itself. In this subgenre, what I've seen is a reflection of the contemporary gay movement: assimilation. Same-sex attraction is treated as just another variation in human behavior, it is assumed, it is accepted. That's just where the political movement wants us to be. I think most of these are rightly considered sf first and gay lit second -- Tanya Huff's "Smoke" series, for example, or Fiona Patton's books, or Mark Anthony's "Last Rune" series -- relationships can be important in these books, but they are not the motivating force.

The other strand also assumes same-sex attraction, but the universe is built on different lines. It is a gay universe, grounded not in an identity that is "normal" by heterosexual standards, in which homosexuality is an acceptable variation of the norm, but one in which homosexuality is the norm in that it provides the baseline for the characters and the action. This is where Chrome sits.

On rereading, the book is good enough, although not one of the best science-fiction books I've read, that I'm interested in taking another look at this strand. In and of itself, it's a fairly standard adventure story, although the adventure is low-key and the focus is more on the relationship between the Chrome and the mysterious man he names "Young King Vortex." Actually, with a very little development, I think it would be a very good book, but as it is, it's a little bare-bones on milieu and character.

It got a lot of publicity as being "gay male science-fiction erotica," which is always something that bothers me a little. The "erotica" in this one is simply graphic sex, which I think is more toward pornography. I always think of "erotica" as something that works by implication, allusion, titillation, not overt description.

There are others who fit into this second strand. In some cases, it's a toss-up -- take, for example, Jim Grinsley's Kirith Kirin, in which the relationship is central, although the story line itself would work with another motivation. I think that's what separates the two strands. Today's irony: in the truly "gay" science fiction stories, it is the relationship, the love affair, that is the prime motivation, in spite of all the charges of hedonism and selfishness leveled at us. One of the key moments in Chrome is when Chrome demonstrates that he can care first about another person.

It occurs to me that the gay subgenre is a coiuntercultural phenomenon. I remember a number of this kind of story being published in the '80s and 90s (Greg Logan's This Universe of Men comes to mind, and gay vampire stories are perennial favorites), and wonder if anyone's still doing them. Time for a trip to the local gay-friendly bookstore, I guess.

The News

It's a new year, and nothing's changed. It is just one depressing example of more of the same after another, and I'm just in no mood for it today. I am going to stop reading blogs and headlines and curl up with a good book (again -- still recuperating) and probably just spend today reading and maybe listening to Goetterdaemmerung. By the way, check out my review of this recording of the Ring at Epinions.

First I'll finish 1635: The Cannon Law, a new one in Eric Flint's Ring of Fire series. A collaboration with Andrew Dennis, it's much better than I thought it would be. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? I may be turning into a literary snob, and that would be horrible, seeing as how I'm such a champion of the vernacular. Flint is not someone who has been on my radar very much, and on the basis of this book, this is an intriguing series, worth reading -- it's an alternate history sort of thing. I am wondering if maybe Flint and Dennis are not shorting the cultural disruption caused by plopping a bunch of 21st-century Americans into 17th-century Europe, but so far, it's a fun read. I may go back and pick up on more of the series.

Book Note

I've had a copy of John Clute's Appleseed sitting there waiting for me to get to it for some time -- much too long a time, as it turns out. It's dazzling, funny, strange, and otherwise wonderful. I can hardly wait to get back to it. It's going to be my reward for submitting a couple of reviews of things that were just OK. (Finally.)