Noumenon by Marina J. Lostetter

 

I have been mulling over Noumenon for a while.  I was really engaged by the book, which was written in a smooth style with an extensive use of conversation, read it quickly and I thought about the story afterwards. (Some books have less permanence than bubbles.) It is upon reflection that many elements in story seemed problematic.  At times I felt that I was looking through a microscope, an intense and absorbing look at character or action or the environment in the space ship, but at other instances in the novel the action and sense was blurry.

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The story begins with the combined resources of Earth electing to send a mission to a discover what it is ‘that blocking the starlight in LQ Pyx’. It is anticipated that that the voyage will last 2,000 years and this influences the decision to send a convoy of nine ships which crewed by clones of the most appropriate people, 100,000 in all, who will, in space, be replaced by clones.  In this novel a whole city is sent into space.  It is a fascinating concept.  I liked the way that each ship became specialised and, essentially, a guild; the location was enforced by the colour of clothes.  I was not so convinced by the idea of daily ‘commutes’ for education or leisure between the ships.  And there are many times in the story when one is only aware of a very small area and very few characters; it is like being inside one small company which makes the ‘city’ concept redundant.

The story is about ‘C’ who begins as a robotic personal assistant and evolves into the AI and the heart and soul of the convoy.  I was astonished, and not entirely convinced, by the last minute tinkering by Reginald Straifer. The AI is the constant as the humans die and are replaced.  Yet this closed environment is neither stable nor liberal; the author explores a number of difficulties arising from the isolation, the pigeon-holing, the lack of belief, conflict and illness but sometimes at the expense of building engaging characters.

I was enthralled by the description of the encounter with the ‘encrusted star’ and thought Lostetter created a magnificent spacescape and I like the human interaction with it.

I thought the Warden and the creation of an exploited mining population, shades of Rome’s use of slaves in its lead mines, was the weakest section of the novel.  It does give Rail, was the aptness of the name deliberate, an opportunity to proclaim in a moving and passionate speech the unique quality of an individual, even a cloned individual.  But it was a rather clunky arrangement.

The most thought provoking section of the novel was about the return to Earth.  Nothing occurs as expected.  Indeed, devoting a quarter of a science fiction novel to what happens after the mission is completed is unusual, and the analysis of the lack of alignment between those that left and those that stayed leaves enough gaps for the reader to imaginatively enlarge upon the difficulties.  I think too that we meet the most interesting character in Esper.

Do I recommend Noumenon?  Yes, I do.  I will definitely read it again.

 

 

 

 

 

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When The Children Came Home by Julie Summers

         When The children Came Home is a commentary on the experiences of British children, evacuated to avoid dangers associated with bombing and invasion during WWII, when they returned to the families from whom they had been separated.  Summers has positioned personal stories against the historical background of the military and government action in response to progress of the war.  The stories have the effect of making the general information more immediate and intense.  I found it to be a really powerful witness to the sense of dislocation that war inflicts.

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The main impact of the stories was how the years spent in the care of others irredeemably distanced the children from the parents who had sent them away ‘for their safety’.  The focus of this book is to record the effects on families after the return of the absent ones.  On the mothers, who had worked in factories to supply the war and been prematurely aged by their experiences, and tried to welcome home children who only spoke Welsh, who were dressed as and had the mannerisms of Americans, who had not wanted to leave their foster home or who were frightened and repulsed by the grimness of their London home.  On the foster families who had to give up children after five or six or seven years having loved them.  On the fathers who were irritable and impatient as a consequence of direct involvement in the war and made the more so by trying to find a way to re-bond with children, often rebellious, angry and anxious children,  when they were so tied to the conventions of their own upbringing.  On the children themselves who worked around the massive fracture in their upbringing for the rest of their lives.

This book celebrates how the families ‘got on with it’ as their difficulties to readjust were disregarded by the authorities but it is a testament to just how hard that proved to do.

The main effect of this book is to make me realise how ‘uprootedness’ is a demanding and difficult feature in so many lives and has long lasting effects; though as Summers stresses all the way through her book they can be positive effects.  Although it is about WWII it has application to anyone who has had a childhood riven by external changes.  One of the most valuable attributes of this book is it allows people to tell a story they needed to tell years ago.  The Bibliography provided by this book is a gem.

The Sellout

Tinted Edges

This book was just what the doctor ordered. I started reading it while I was stuck in a car line to get into a festival in Oregon for 12 hours (no, I am not exaggerating) to help keep myself from losing my mind. I had heard about it after the author was last year named the first American ever to win the Man Booker prize. I was blown away by the novel’s beginning and I have a keen memory of sitting in that car seat shrieking every few pages. Then, after we finally made it into the festival and wasted a day moving campsites, the following night I became very ill and was tent-bound for two days. This book was my absolute solace. I needed an excellent book to get me through and when my eReader froze just as started getting better, I almost lost it.

The Sellout

“The Sellout” by Paul…

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The Power by Naomi Alderman

I am not sure why this book won the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction.

The Power (Paperback)

Okay, I accept the main conceit that women are suddenly able to ‘infect and teach’ each other how to acquire and implement the physical ability to deliver electric shocks; thus are women physically transformed from being the weaker sex into the powerful sex.  The novel then sets out to explore how this turning of the tables might change the world, might inculcate a world of new possibilities.

Except it doesn’t.  All that happens is that those in power, women, make uninfected women and men into minions and set up a hierarchy. In Power society as remains the same because there is no social development at all as those on top are cruel, dismissive, self-serving, belittling, equate physical power with superiority in all spheres and misuse their physical strength to compel others into obedience, slavery and sycophancy.  It is a very depressing book as it reinforces the might makes right mantra.

      Power is graphic in its description of the cruelties inflicted upon women by men: women imprisoned in cellars, women enslaved in whore houses, girls raped and abused by carers, career women frustrated by prejudice, the use of filthy language to denigrate girls and women …  it counts out these and other horrors and they are shocking in it their magnitude.  As the use of electric shock permeates the female population the men react violently to the threat to their power and in Saudi Arabia we are told that the women are blinded so as men can regain control.  This book gave me the same sick feeling and sense of despair that I had when I read A Brief History of Seven Killings by Marlon James.  Alderman and James are certainly effective horror writers.

The novel follows the path of a handful of women who ride the wave to become prominent in a variety of arenas:  a religious order celebrating the Goddess who gifted women and not men; the political harnessing of the apprehension about wave of women and girls exercising their electric power; the bloody transfer of dominance within a drug running family to a daughter; and the setting up of a nation of vengeful women under the guidance of an abused one.  All of the women who assume power are damaged and re-enact the violence inflicted upon them.  They are as cruel and limited in their vision as the men they replaced.

And there’s the rub.  There is no exploration of what this electric power might have had in positive and creative situations whether it be in families, groups or nations.  We just crash straight to violence and nastiness and the end of the world as we know it.  Power lacks any subtlety.

The sub-plot is that this story of the collapse of civilization is being written centuries after the event by a man, whose genius is blighted by the restrictions and negative assumptions connected to his sex including being advised to write under a pseudonym.  The women’s civilization bears an uncanny resemblance to the one that disappeared.

As far as making a list of abuses by the powerful against the weak this novel has it all. But it has no other message to give save that those at the top behave monstrously.  Makes one wonder why one should strive for emancipation at all.  A dreary vision indeed.  And I think a very wrong one.

 

Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge

Brilliant! 

Fly by Night cover

Fly By Night is masquerading as YA fiction but this piece of fantasy X steampunk is a wonderful book.  The heroine, bad-tempered, intelligent Mosca Mye, born on the calendar day sacred to Goodman Palpitattle He Who Keeps Flies Out, joins forces with the thieving, deceiving wordsmith, Eponymous Clent, with a view to making their fortune.

A fortune is a hard thing to make in a land riven by war and persecution.  Mosca and Eponymous Clent’s plans to wheedle money out of powerful persons through writing ballads, delivering messages, spying and retrieving goods are hijacked by even more powerful folk and soon they are relying on their wits to save their lives.  They do have the assistance of Saracen, Mosca’s beloved pet goose; Eponymous is less enthusiastic about this companion as he is a fearsome beast when aroused to fury.

The setting of the novel is loosely based on England at the start of the Eighteenth Century but mightily warped and exaggerated.  It is a place where wet is wetter, the rule of the powerful Guilds more guilty and gritty, poverty is smelly, hungry and desperate, education is a rarity, Dukes and Duchess are mad with power, religion veers between totemic and fanatic, and goodness survives in the cracks.  But this novel is also funny. The transformation of the vain highwayman into the radical saviour of the city of Mandelion is very amusing. Mosca’s versatile, vivid and sometimes vulgar descriptions of the places she sees and the people she meets can make me laugh.

I love books that take sidelong glances at big issues while also telling a rollicking good tale.

Fly by Night is brilliant!!

 

The Tourist by Robert Dickenson

The Tourist is a fascinating book.  Difficult at times as the reader, like the main protagonist, Sven, struggles from his small person’s perspective to understand the influence of competitive groups from the future and among the natives as he searches for a missing client, Adorna Mond.

Sven is a time travel rep, with a strong sense of honour and duty,  working for one of the cheaper companies that takes clients, in this case to London in the 21st century.  Sven and his clients are from period three hundred years after the NEE which had had drastic effects on the human population and the planet.  The primary interest of the time-travellers Sven conducts through the malls of London is in the acquisition of material goods from the century of excess but in most other respects they and Sven are repulsed by their ancestors.

The differences between the people from the future and the people of the 21st century, referred to ask natives, leak out gradually.  The people of the number cities are taller and stronger; they use augs to enhance function; they live rigid and monitored lives they have castes including Happiness, Awareness, Safety and Millies; they dislike the native’s food and blame them for the NEE.  What is also gradually revealed is there is manipulation of the governance of the 21st century against the protocol Sven observes. The 21st century is being invaded by the future and, via this conceit, Dickenson makes some pertinent comments about colonization.  The interference is is not only exploitative but hostile; and there is evidence that the future governments are not unified but have conflicting ideas about the interactions between the future and its past; reference the Anarchonists.  But time travel is confusing; identifying, stopping and punishing is a slippery business.

Sven looks for his missing client, who may also be Karia Stadt enemy of the numbered cities, and so does Riemann Aldis, agent of the numbered cities.  Through the eyes of these characters Dickinson makes some pithy comment about the priorities of the 21st century.  Sven is a purist who has had, through time travellers’ collections, access to the original productions of classical music and is contemptuous of the natives’ practice of interpretation.  When he has served for long enough he can set his own agenda and he plans to time travel so he too can listen to the first concerts.

The Tourist is a novel to read again and again as it does not give up its plot secrets and its character insights readily.  One certainty in this novel is that violence is still the crude weapon used to try to defeat practitioners of alternative ways of living.  But Robert Dickenson’s allusion to a city destroyed as a response to one enemy agent or the quick glances at the dreadful conditions in the tunnels or the insect farms of the future creates a much more powerful impression than the excessive, gratuitous, voyeuristic descriptions of violence that blights so much of modern sci-fi writing.   Another certainty in the novel is the power and the beauty of an individual life.

 

Robert the Bruce, King of Scots by R. M. Scott & Bitter Greens by K. Forsyth

I dare to link these two books, Robert the Bruce and Bitter Greens, because, despite using vastly different approaches to their subjects,  Scott and Forsyth have written brilliant historical studies.

Ronald McNair Scott has written a traditional history with clarity in elegant prose.   He has shown me why Robert the Bruce, a King of Scotland from 1306, was, and is, such a revered ruler.  Prior to reading this novel I had a very thin grasp of the circumstances and wars that resulted in an independent Scotland.  Moreover, I realised that I had been inculcated with the English version of events. Robert the Bruce success was not dependent on the inadequacy of Edward II  as a king and general but a result of Robert’s clever and determined leadership.

Robert the Bruce was the consequence of  Edward I’s disregard for the Treaty of Birgham, which he signed in 1290 guaranteeing the laws, liberties and customs of Scotland, and in 1292 used force to try and annex Scotland.  He almost succeeded as in a series of bloody wars, using superior numbers and armour, he imposed military control.  Scottish lords either fled after conquest or made submission with tribute and hostages.  Edward I cruelty, his treatment of William Wallace was one many outrages, was influential in feeding rebellion that crowned Robert King of Scotland in 1306.

Yet Robert the Bruce was king in name only.  It was not until 1328 that he secured his kingdom with the Treaty of Edinburgh with the English.  R.N. Scott carefully and clearly leads us through the complexity of intrigues and furious battles by which Robert the Bruce won back Scottish lands. The author attributes Robert’s success to his character as much as to his brilliant generalship. He inspires his people who give hearts, children and sustenance.  The author, like the king he is studying, does not lose sight of the human cost of wars that raged across Scotland and Ireland.  Robert the Bruce lost four brothers in the war, his wife and child were captives and his sisters suffered demeaning imprisonment.

Thank you Ronald McNair Smith for the bibliography, which is guiding further reading, the maps and the family trees, and especially for Chapter 1 which succinctly outlines the clan and church influences in Scotland and explains the feudal social structure which enabled, encouraged, the wars between Scotland and England.

Bitter Greens is an artful mixture of fairytale, magic realism and historical fiction.  Kate Forsyth braids together a well-researched biography of Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de la Force, writer and historian, and the mythical  histories of two of la Force’s fictional creations, Margherita (Rapunzel) and Selena Leonelli (the witch).  In the process we are shown the workings of the court of the Sun King, Louis XIV in all its glory and horror.  Kate Forsyth provides us with an intense understanding of the cruel etiquette, caprices and vengeance that characterised Louis  XIV rule.

Selena Leonelli not only a witch but in Forsyth’s novel becomes Titian’s mystery model and the novel moves cleverly into Magic Ralism. Through the lens of her vile, voluptuous and voracious experiences we see Venice, the plague, the life of a courtesan and her bloody attempts to remain young and beautiful.  All of the characters experience love and make love but Margherita, the stolen child held captive in the tower who remains faithful and loving,  is the determinedly hopeful and justifiably so.

But it is Charlotte-Rose who most enchants in Bitter Greens as she grapples with the perdition of being exiled to a nunnery and dreary physical trials of that enforced calling by reliving her time in the French King’s court and making stories.

Roanld Scott’s history of Robert the Bruce I chanced upon but Bitter Greens I gave as a gift to Angharad  https://tintededges.wordpress.com/ to read during her flight home to Australia.  She has returned the novel to me, a couple of years later, with a salutation from Kate Forsyth.  And so well-written books wend their way around the world.