What’s the Point of a Genre?

Working at the bookstore, I come across a constant annoyance: trying to put a book into its proper place, using BITS, the internal store inventory system. The program is antiquated, clunky and a pain to use, and whomever is hired to enter the information into the system in the first place should be duct-taped off the ground and had rotten fruit thrown at them. It would be a good incentive to get the information entered in correctly and consistantly. Still, while annoyed about this the other night at the store, a thought came to me that’s been further pushed along by a post from John Scalzi on his blog, Whatever.

This recent post highlights something that I’ve noticed within the SF genre, and fandom: a general cry to be recognized by the literary establishment as a whole. Science Fiction, in general, has been trivialized by a number of establishments and authors of other genres – Margaret Atwood’s comments come to mind at just how against being labeled in the genre some peopel can be: “Science fiction has monsters and spaceships; speculative fiction could really happen”, and “Oryx and Crake is a speculative fiction, not a science fiction proper. It contains no intergalactic space travel, no teleportation, no Martians.” (From the Guardian and Book of the Month Club).

To some extent, there’s good reason for this – early science fiction, while fun, is loaded with rubbish, pulp and childish stories that were primarily geared towards selling as many copies as possible to the lowest common denominator demographic. Atwood’s characterization of the genre is highly flawed – science fiction is far more than intergalactic travel and aliens, and while that’s a common element, I see little difference between the superficial elements such as those, and the elements that contain a so-called speculative fiction. In the end, it’s the story that really matters, and provided that an author can put together a compelling plot and array of characters, I’ve often found that those more unbelievable elements, such as ‘monsters’ and intergalactic travel works out just fine.

Scalzi’s argument brings up a further version of this point – if the surrounding plot elements don’t matter all that much – and I’ve noticed an increasing number of books with horror, science fiction, paranormal, fantasy, urban fantasy and other themes – where does the overall label matter when it comes to books? Indeed, with the aforementioned types, they’re all lumped into the same small section in the larger bookstores, usually towards the back so the bookstore owners can hide the nerds and geeks from the rest of the cliental. (You know, kind of how the pretty people in gyms are always working out next to the windows?) I personally love the science fiction genre for its ability to tell stories, in addition to the settings and out there concepts that generally crop up. However, my enjoyment of one particular genre doesn’t necessarily cloud my feelings towards books of another, nor does the label on the back of the book affect how I feel about another genre.

To some extent, I think that the argument is largely fueled by egos and excess time of overeducated people, and out of marketing necessity. Since much of bookselling comes out of browsing, it makes sense to group books accordingly, by genre, which is in turn placed on a pedestal, as something that is so profound, it can’t possibly be associated with other books that have the reputation as science fiction / fantasy has.

This is where I have problems with the people who insist that any one particular genre is worthy of attention more so than the others. The same issue appears in Military History – I had a reading about this very same issue, as Military History is percieved by the larger academic community as an unimportant, somewhat annoying little cousin that wants to join in on the fun. Unfortunately, with the more established genres pushing out the newer ones, they miss out on a number of really good stories and insights into their fields. Cormac McCarthy’s book The Road is arguably one of the better books of the past decade, and it won the Pulitzer Prize, despite the post-apocolptic storyline that appeals to the many followers of the ‘geek’ genre. Still, it wasn’t marketed as such.

Marketing aside, I think the best alternative to all of this would be to get rid of the genre labels, sort out everything between fiction and non-fiction sections and shelve everything by the author’s last name. Non-fiction can be sorted by subject, while people can just figure out what they like ahead of time and just go by author. Scalzi’s hit on a huge point – this is an intellectual argument that really doesn’t matter in the long run. Honestly, if Science Fiction starts scoring more people, longtime fans will just find something else to complain about – the new fans who don’t have quite the same appreciation for the genre as they do.

Slave to the Traffic Light

Driving is something that I’ve become very interested in over the past year or so, and something that I’ve been interested in learning more about. It’s very rare that I come across a book that really challenges a lot of the perceptions that I have about something, but Tom Vanderbilt’s fantastic examination of driving, Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (And What It Says About Us) really did the trick. Traffic looks at, well, Traffic, in all of its numerous and complicated elements, and in doing so, has become a book that is absolutely essential for everyone who gets behind the wheel of an automobile, and even those who come across a road with any regularity. Vanderbilt has put together a wonderfully comprehensive, exhaustive and accessible read that explains just why we drive the way we do and what it says about us.

There are several main arguments and elements of driving that Vanderbilt covers over the course of the book. The first is largely psychological, looking at the first major aspect of driving: The Driver. Without a driver, a car just sits in the driveway or a parking lot, and is for all intents and purposes, harmless. Putting a person behind the wheel subjects the car, driver and passengers to the judgment, attention and skill of the driver.

Attention seems to be the most important element for the driver, and this is something that Vanderbilt tackles right away in the book. Driver error is arguably one of the leading causes of crashes, and in this day and age, there’s certainly no shortage of things to distract the driver, from other cars on the road, to mobile phones that are increasingly more complicated. Vanderbilt explains that driving is an extremely complicated process, and that in order to drive around safely without crashing into anything, the brain receives and processes a lot of information – eye tracking cameras have found that a driver is looking all over the place, to the side of the road, in front of the car and ahead, all while analyzing their surroundings and making decisions accordingly that minimize the risk to the occupants. In the instance of driving, eating, talking, fiddling with the radio and so forth, the brain has to essentially divert resources and stimuli in order to properly make those actions. Drivers who look down to text on their phone take their eyes off the road while moving, which creates an incredibly dangerous situation, as the car, moving at speed, is now captained by a driver who isn’t acting on their surroundings.

Besides the driver looking at the road, the mentality of the drivers also comes into play. Vanderbilt describes the road as a place where a number of people who don’t know each other must interact and cooperate, for the good of the system. Humans are social creatures – look to the difficulty of communicating online, where you are deprived of access of someone’s voice and subsequent inflections, facial cues and so forth, and think back to the last time someone honked at you, passed aggressively, and so forth – the road is a place where numerous people come together, with a huge variety of training, habits and attitudes, and where there is virtually no feedback as to how you are doing on the road. Vanderbilt notes that just because a driver doesn’t get into an accident, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they aren’t a poor driver – they’ve just been lucky. Most problems on the road stem from these relationships between drivers – miscommunications, the absence of communication and drivers not interpreting traffic correctly. As more drivers enter the road – and Vanderbilt notes that traffic is on the rise in the United States – it becomes more crucial for people to work better together while on the road.

 

Congestion and traffic is the next major issue that is covered in the book. It is noted several times that as highways were constructed in the 1950s and 1960s, they were put together with a certain intent for capacity. In the ensuing years since these roads were constructed, the ceilings for traffic volume has shot through the roof and roads are carrying far more than they were ever intended for. Vanderbilt looks at several issues associated with this: the various ways in which traffic is dealt with, but also how some solutions are really not solutions at all. With a higher volume of vehicles on the roads, Vanderbilt notes that traffic systems have to jockey all these cars around – traffic lights and signs have been longtime elements that have managed traffic, but have severe limitations. Similarly, their very presence impacts the behavior in of cars in ways that are sometimes counter to what is good for the overall system. Traffic lights stop cars completely, which stops the vehicles behind them. Once the green light clicks on, cars go though, but there is an inherent risk there, as cars travel through a projected path of the cars to the side of the intersection. I’ve long been a fan of rotaries – there is one here in Montpelier, with another one just opened after a couple months of construction, and I believe that they should be put into far more widespread use, as it not only keeps traffic moving smoothly (once people get used to using them), but it keeps drivers on their toes, rather than automatically expecting that they will be safe going through an intersection.

A major issue with congestion is traffic volume, and how driving impacts the rest of an overall system. Vanderbilt notes that often times, roads can handle a high number of cars, provided that there are no bottlenecks, such as accidents and slow-moving cars. He compares the system to a bucket of rice going through a funnel. A certain volume can be handled going through, but with more and more added, everything backs up. He cites one example of stop-lights that monitor the volume of an interstate, and will allow cars on accordingly, at lulls in the system, allowing traffic to move smoothly as a whole. At times, what is best for an individual driver can be harmful to the overall health of the system.

With that in mind, consider that the best thing for the system as a whole is the health and well being of the driver, and in order for that to be achieved most often, drivers need to drive safely, and to be alert. Vanderbilt suggests an argument that on the face seems very counter-intuitive, but one that makes a lot of sense: In order for drivers to be safer, they need to drive in unusually unsafe conditions. Think back to the time when you drove in unfamiliar territory, or a road that was somewhat dangerous, such as a mountain road. I’ve done that recently, and remembered that I was more alert, a little slower, and more conscious of my surroundings. Thus, I was paying far more attention to the road, and less on what was far less important, such as my mobile phone. This argument has been tried out in various countries, where municipalities have removed road signs from the road in order to make drivers more aware of their surroundings. The result was fewer accidents, not more, as drivers were forced to pay more attention to the cars and roadside than before, where they could not assume safety in the regulations.

Branching off from that argument, Vanderbilt notes that there is an increasingly seductive move to give drivers more space, more warning, and more comfort in order to take cars further apart from one another, or to give drivers more warnings about hazards. The result is that drivers feel more comfortable with their surroundings, but instead of making the road safer, it provides a sense of security that allows drivers to drive more hazardously. Top Gear, the popular BBC show, has ranted about an excess of road signs, placed in towns to mitigate liability for accidents, such as ‘Falling Rocks’ (What am I meant to do with that information) and ‘Changed Priorities Ahead’ (I’d been thinking that I’ll be more responsible, pay off my mortgage and eat healthier, but when I saw that, I said screw it, I’ll go to the pub). Similarly, cities with large numbers of bicycles and pedestrians have noted trends that follow this information: as drivers are more aware of less protected people, they tend to act accordingly. I recently read an article on a city that saw an increase in bike traffic, and rather than a rapid rise in collisions, there were fewer. The problem as I see it is that that drivers do not realize that driving is an inherently risky activity – seatbelts, airbags, crumple zones and the like give us the illusion that we are safer than we really are. To be fair, these instruments are still essential – it may make drivers feel safer, but in an accident, they will absolutely help to save people’s lives.

The overall effect of this book is taking a familiar activity and looking at it in an incredible amount of detail. Prior to reading this book, I had no idea of much of the information, and after reading it, I’ve noticed a number of bad habits with my own driving – things that I’m mindful of now that I’m going to be working to correct. At the very least, I, and I’m sure far more people, are largely unaware of how our actions impact those around us. I’ve gone, in my mind, from a good driver to an average one, and I’m honestly surprised that I haven’t been in an accident before. It’s a revelation that needs to be imparted to the rest of the driving population, simply because of one chilling statistic: every time you drive, you have a 1 in a 100 chance of dying in a car accident over the course of your lifetime. This book, in a way, is about risk-management, and examining driving in a way that helps us become more aware of the risks that we take every time we get behind the wheel of the car. Similarly, it helps to put into perspective just how traffic works. It will certainly make me more responsible, knowing the overall context the roadway.

It’s Gonna Be The Future Soon

One of the main elements of the science fiction genre is the future. Looking to the future extends far beyond just the world of Science Fiction, but to speculative fiction, religion, the business and military worlds, and indeed, is a question that everyone inevitably asks, can we predict what will happen next? George Friedman’s latest book, The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century purports to just that. While Friedman makes a number of interesting, and at times, good points, the resulting work is deeply flawed in its reasoning. I’ve since reviewed this book for io9 – much of the summary for the book can be found here.

There are three major points that I took issue with when it came to this book, which are instrumental to the book’s findings: lack of sources, an overemphasis and reliance on history and the assumption that the world will return to similar political connections that characterized the Cold War. However, while this is the case, Friedman imparts a very important lesson through this book, reminding the reader that history and nations work with a sort of cause and effect mentality, where x event causes y reaction over z time. Major events take years to build and grow, and an essential thing for the reader to keep in mind is that the world and political structure can change over the course of twenty to thirty years.

This book has no index, notes or sources anywhere in the book, which is odd, considering the number of places that there should be some sort of citation, such as a UN report citing declines in birthrates, or historical information on the political stance of a country. The result of this is a lengthy opinion piece that gets stranger and stranger as the decades pile up. Unfortunately for the book, this does nothing to help with the book’s credibility, despite the author’s credentials, and essentially turns it into an extended op-ed. With no scholarly information to back up the author’s assertions, the book rests on the idea that the author knows just what he is talking about, and given some of the things that he comes up with, I am more inclined to file this under fiction, rather than non-fiction.

Much of the book’s reasoning seem fairly flawed to me. Friedman, right off the bat, suggests that what he terms the US-Jihadist war (This should probably be Western-Jihadist war, in all actuality) is merely a small problem that will go away within a couple of years. I’m not well versed in the intelligence community or up on the current information, but I would imagine that that’s as far from the truth as you can get. The conflict that’s ongoing in the Middle East is one that has been brewing for years, even decades. Israel, Palestine, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan and others close by have long-seated issues with the United States and the Western world, fueled by extremists who believe that our way of life is detrimental to theirs, and have literally been killing themselves to try and stop us. This is not a problem that will vanish without many of those underlying problems being corrected, which I don’t see happening. Furthermore, Friedman fails to take into account how things will change with time – the importance of petroleum, for example, which is not a sure thing. What will the effects of climate change legislation have on nations, and how will changes in these resources affect countries. Furthermore, South America, Oceania and Africa are barely mentioned throughout the book.

Friedman hangs his hat on this one assumption – that the global war on fundamentalist terrorists will go away, and that the world will resume tensions that were in existence during the Cold War. He predicts that Russia will consolidate its power and a Russian bloc in Europe. While there are indications that this is happening, I don’t believe that it will be anything like what happened before, and that the US will essentially enter another Cold War. Furthermore, down the road, he predicts that the eventual demise of Russia will lead to the rise of Japan, Turkey and Poland, which I find somewhat more unlikely, at least with Poland and Japan.

Much of his reasoning in these instances depends upon historical record and what has gone on before with these countries. He notes that Japan, despite its recent pacifism, will return to warlike routes and eventually challenge the United States. Turkey will do the same. I find Turkey’s case slightly more reasonable, because of its diplomatic ties, stability and economy. In addition to these two countries, he also cites German and Russian tendencies to war. This to me is a particularly dangerous assumption, because countries and cultures are redeemable, as seen with Japan. Countries will not go to war or suddenly become aggressive simply because they have done so in the past. Japan has become incredibly tame, with a culture and multiple generations of people to support that. Germany similarly. Warfare, as Clausewitz notes, is an extension of political policy, and with a culture that is largely against war and conflict supporting a political structure, a highly militant Japan rising again seems unlikely. Friedman’s assertions that by the middle of the century, with lunar bases and ‘Battle Stars’ operated by the United States, are on the face ridiculous. (The cost alone of creating the International Space Station, which houses 6 scientists is in the trillions – the prices for stations that house people in the hundreds is magnitudes higher. Even then, with a mindset of defense against other nations, this still doesn’t fly.) But, even then, the idea that the Japanese will bomb these US facilities in a Pearl Harbor-esque attack on Thanksgiving evening is just nothing sort of laughable. History certainly has its place, but it cannot be used reliably to predict the future with an instance such as this. Analyze trends and motivations, yes, but using a country’s prior methods of warfare, in this manner, is pure fiction.

This is unfortunate, because the book is presented as fact and not necessarily as an exercise in history or how to think about how these events might work in the future. The result is a ridiculous and absurd argument for a return to older political thinking from people who were immersed in that world for so long.

Review: The Windup Girl

Paolo Bacigalupi’s debut novel The Windup Girl is a frightening, realistic and brilliant look at the near future of the world. Taking place in Thailand at some point in the future, Bacigalupi paints a picture of a world that is caught between several major problems: climate change has affected the lives of many people around the world, and in turn, has brought a rise in global agricultural corporations, and global energy resources have been depleted, forcing major changes in the way people live their lives, and how a world-wide economy functions with different resources. Corporations have run amok with trying to maintain their profit margins, and released a number of plagues upon the world that devastated the planet’s ecology upon which we all depend, and because of their actions, remain just a single step ahead of the latest mutation of blister rust and other assorted plagues. Thailand is a country that has thus far weathered the storm – the Royal government has maintained a fierce isolationist policy to keep the country from succumbing. As a result, Thailand has a precious resource that western companies desperately want: a genebank, containing thousands of new strains of crops that could be utilized to combat the ongoing struggle against plagues and hunger world-wide.

The story follows several discrete storylines and characters, each with their own motivations and demons. Anderson is a ‘calorie man’, a westerner who ostensibly manages a factory that manufactures kink-springs, a renewable power source. Jaidee is a member of the Environmental Ministry, tasked with maintaining a barrier between Thailand and the rest of the world and the dangers that it poses. Emiko is a windup, a genetically engineered woman, designed by the Japanese for servitude and for sex, who has been abandoned in Thailand and fears that she will be mulched (killed and burned for energy). In addition to these main characters, there are a number of other background characters who are just as complex as their counterparts. In a nut-shell, Anderson has come to Thailand on the behalf of a major Agricorporation that is hoping to gain a foothold in the country in order to obtain rights to the country’s gene banks. While he is ostensibly looking for ways to combat the plagues, Thailand officials believe that the corporations have far more sinister and selfish motivations for the gene banks. While in the country, he has to walk a narrow line to stay in the country, as the Environmental Ministry intends to keep Thailand free.

Captain Jaidee is a leading member of the Environmental Ministry, and throughout the book, it is clear that the country is not necessarily unified in its position to remain away from the rest of the world. Limited trade and imports occur through the actions of the Trade Ministry, which is at frightening odds with the Environmental Ministry, to the point where open bloodshed and crimes are committed on both sides to try and force their position upon the rest of the country, which eventually interrupts into violence, which helps to push forward some of the plans that Anderson and others have laid to gain more traction into the country.

Emiko’s titular character is somewhere between the various storylines. As an artificial biological construct, she is a representation of what is wrong with the outside world in the eyes of a secular nation that believes heavily in the value of one’s soul and rebirth. To the Thai people, she is a soulless being, one who is against nature, and essentially lumped in with the problems of the world. Thus, Emiko, who is unsuited for Thailand’s climate with reduced pores (she overheats easily) and a body structure that makes her stutter while moving, which makes her a literal odd woman out, and thus a target to the Environmental Ministry (also known as White Shirts for their uniform) who see her as a threat to the country’s independence.

Futuristic worlds are a common element in Science Fiction, but it is very rare to have one that is so deeply realized as Bacugalupi’s Thailand, one that takes the current state of existence for the country and extrapolates into the future with hypothetical events. The portrait that he paints of the world is very scary indeed, and the constructed world has reacted accordingly though a number of levels. What makes this novel so interesting is just how everything fits together. There are economic elements that make sense, social, biological and political, all of which are not mere exposition in a prologue in the novel, but where they are an active part of the storyline. This, in a way is one of the best examples of show, don’t tell, a writing exercise that I remember from creative writing courses. What is even better (or sobering, depending on how you look at it), this world makes sense. I can see major corporations putting profit ahead of common sense, and I can see the world going to hell in much more vivid detail now. Furthermore, Bacugalupi posits the power struggle between various departments of government, each with their own agendas and motives, both at odds with one another, which trails up through to the very end of the book.

There’s a strong look at morality and ethics when it comes to bioengineering and the eventual fate of the species, and how our role fits within a society such as what we see in the future. Emiko, a Windup, is shunned, hated, in reaction to what she was, and what she represented: something highly unnatural. By the same token, there are holes in that sort of feeling, as one character confronts towards the end of the novel. One thing that particularly stuck in my mind was how much of evolution is an unnatural, random occurrence, verses how much of it is conscious decisions that any sort of creature makes that better enhances their chances of survival? In this world, survival is predicated on the work of gene rippers and scientists who remain just a couple of steps against plagues – it is noted that the windups are built for a purpose, and that they are immune to most problems in the world because of their unique design. Like the clashes in the Thailand government, there is a larger struggle at stake, survival, with both sides making valid arguments for their continued existence. In a sense, this story is a look at how the human race might choose to survive, and enter a new stage of development. To me, this is a very profound element to the story.

When all is said and done, there is one big theme that goes through and through with this book: survival. Each element of the book deals with this very issue, from the ultimate survival of the human race in a hostile world, to the immediate survival of several characters who are neck deep in political and economic conspiracy to the various branches of government who want to see their vision of the future for their country to survive the coming turmoil.

What truly stands out for this book is the rich detail and fantastic prose. I’ve purposely taken my time with this book so that I could absorb as much as I could. What Bacugalupi puts together is a superior story, one of the best science fiction novels that I have read in a long time, one that takes the best from well thought out characters, plausible economics and science and a complicated story.

Recommended Readings

My friend Tyler copied an idea from another blog about his ten must-read books. I figured that I’d get in on the game with a list of my own essential books. I’ll try and avoid some of the more obvious ones, as he noted, such as Lord of the Rings and The Golden Compass with some stuff that usually doesn’t get enough attention. I can’t, however, promise that I’m going to limit it to an arbatrary number. I will limit it to geek-related reading, however. SF, Science, Fantasy, etc.

The Magicians, Lev Grossman. I read this book late in the summer, and was really impressed with the storyline and direction that it took. While ostensibly a ripoff of Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, this book explores more realistic feelings of a young man being trained in the art of magic.
Wired for War, P.W. Singer. This was an earlier read this year, for which I wrote a review for io9, and had a chance to meet and speak with Mr. Singer. This book is ripe with SF references and potential, looking at the introduction of robotic entities into warfare, and how that effects not only combat, but our military’s structure.
Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke. Suzanne Clarke is possibly one of the best fantasy writers of our generation. JSMR is a stunning book, rich in depth and prose, and is a very deliberate book to get through. It’s long, challenging and absolutely fantastic.
Men of Tomorrow: Geeks, Gangsters and the Birth of the Comic Book, Gerald Jones. This book is what got me interested in social history, which has then gotten me further interested in the field and writing. This book presents a very interesting chronicle of the comic book industry, linking it to major events throughout US history, and traces the beginnings of the first comic strips to the industry that it is today.
Coyote, Allen M. Steele. Coyote was initially published as a series of short stories by Steele in Asimov’s Science Fiction, and is a great read on intersteller travel, near future politics (this was born out of the Bush Administration, and while it’s interesting, it’s not necessarily accurate or really in depth) and the colonization of a world, a sort of parallel with the foundation of the United States.
The World Without Us, Alan Weisman. Alan Wesiman askes an interesting question: what would happen if humanity just vanished? He then goes on to say what would happen – infrastructure would collapse and vanish quickly, and this premise was used in the recent film I Am Legend. However, there’s a really good part of this that examines our relationship with nature.
The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch. Scott Lynch’s first novel is an absolutely riveting read. Lynch is a master at epic world building, creating a detailed fantasy society that includes the darker elements that most Fantasy series seem to avoid. His followup novel, Red Seas under Red Skies is also well worth reading.
The Icarus Hunt, Timothy Zahn. This is an older book by one of my favorite authors, Timothy Zahn. It’s fairly light fare, but it’s an entertaining space opera novel that holds up well.
In the Shadow of the Moon, Francis French and Colin Burgess. With the 40th anniversary of the Lunar Landings, there has been an influx of interest in the history of space travel. The University of Nebraska has been on the ball for a couple years now, with the release of In the Shadow of the Moon, which has no connection to the wonderful documentary of the same title. This book examines the history of space travel, on the behalf of the US and Russia, from Gemini to Apollo 11, covering the territory in fantastic detail. The other books in the series are also wonderful.
City of Pearl, Karen Traviss. Karen Traviss’s debut novel is the first of a six book series and helps to establish her as one of the best new SF writers of the decade. Her stories take place in a number of well concieved worlds and looks over near-future technology, environmental issues and corporate demands. Oh yeah, and some interesting first contact situations and interstellar warfare.
American Gods, Neil Gaiman. What’s to say about American Gods that hasn’t been said before? Gaiman has put together an incredible story.
Altered Carbon, Richard K. Morgan. Richard K. Morgan is another up and coming SF writer who has just burst onto the scene in wonderful fashion with this book, Altered Carbon. Morgan puts together a fantastic futuristic world through the story of a noir-esque mystery.
Ringworld, Larry Niven. This is already a classic in the SF world, but I wanted to include it because it doesn’t get as much attention as some of the other heavyweights of the genre. Ringworld combines epic science fiction from the best elements and lofty themes of the 1970s with another classic theme of SF, exploration.
Soon I Will Be Invincible, Austin Grossman. Austin Grossman’s first novel about a group of Superheroes in modern society is a fun, exciting and interesting read. These superheroes are a far cry from those of the classic superheroes that are in the comics: these guys have affairs, problems and a rich comic book-style history behind this world. Fans of Watchmen should enjoy it.
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon. Michael Chabon’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel is the story of the creation of Superman, and I would actually recommend reading it along with Men of Tomorrow. It’s a wonderful and engaging read.
The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol 1, Robert Silverberg. This last book is one that I would recommend above all others. If there was ever a situation in which you could only read one SF book, this is the one that I’d recommend. A collection of superb SF stories from the best minds of the genre, this book is one that is absolutely essential. The stories, writing and authors are all top-notch for their times, and this collection of their best works is easily the best snapshot of the genre that I can think of.

Currently Reading

It’s been a little while since I’ve done one of these updates…

Reading Now:

Consider Phlebas, Iain M Banks – This is Bank’s first book in his Culture Series. It’s fast-paced, engaging, and interesting, but it’s not making any favorites list for me. The plot’s a bit scattered, but it’s incredibly rich in the culture (snark) that’s inhabited the galaxy. There’s epic space warfare, orbital ringworlds, politics on a vast level and a cast of interesting characters. Honestly, this is a very cinematic and fun read. I’m blowing right through it – 200 pages in 2 hours!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, Mark Haddon – I started this book a while ago, about an autistic man trying to solve the reasons for a dog’s death.
How Starbucks Saved My Life, Michael Gates Gills – Old, White guy gets job with black boss in retail after a high powered job, learns about self. Meh, it’s nothing that I’d buy full price, but it’s interesting.
Blood and Thunder, Hampton Sides – I’ve had this book on the reading list for over a year now. It’s fantastic, but I’m so burned out on history that I’m not sure when I’ll get around to finishing it.

To Read:

The Windup Girl, Paolo Bacigalupi – This is the next book that I’ll pick up after I finish Phlebas. It’s gotten a bit of buzz around the SF blog world. It takes place in a future Thailand, involving GMOs, Genetic engineering and Politics. I’ll probably begin it tonight.
The Forever War, Joe Haldeman – This has been a long recommended read for me, and I’ve been on a bit of a military SF kick lately, so this is one that I’m really looking forward to tackling.
Shadowbridge, Gregory Frost – Gregory Frost came to my attention about a year ago when Borders dropped his books. I complained about it here. This looks like a really fun book, part of a duology. I’ve got both books, Shadowbridge and Lord Tophet, and I’ll likely get to them sometime this fall. They look to be quick reads.
Traffic, Tom Vanderbilt – This book has long facinated me – I love driving, and this book porports to talk about why we drive the way we do. It’s something that I’ve given quite a bit of thought to, especially while in traffic.
The Power Makers, Maury Klein – This book looks really interesting, about the struggle between Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison, looking at their work and how they helped to bring about a modern United States with electricity and steam power. Tesla has been a figure in American history that has long facinated me, and this type of history is really interesting, something that I love to read about.
The Next 100 Years, George Friedman – This book’s popped up on a couple of SF blogs as well – I got it along with The Windup Girl. It’s a look at the next 100 years and how the economics, politics and wars of the future will play out. I wonder how much of it will come to pass.
The People’s Tycoon, Steven Watts – This is another personality/history book that I’m really looking forward to – Henry Ford. I’m going to be ramping up a project that has to do with automotive history, and this is going to be the first step towards that project in background research.
Theodore Rex – Edmund Morris – This is a biography of Theodore Roosevelt, one that’s been highly acclaimed, and a person that I’d like to learn more about. This has been on the list for a while. Time to actually read it when I can get to history again.
The Ghost Brigades, John Scalzi – This is the sequel to Scalzi’s Old Man War, which I reviewed here. I really enjoyed the first book, it was a fast-paced, entertaining read, and it really set up for this second book.
Tales from a Perilous Realm, JRR Tolkien – A collection of Tolkien’s short stories, 5 of them. It looks like a fantastic read.

To Read, Tier 2 – These are books that are on the to-read list, but not a huge priority… yet.

Andvari’s Ring, Arthur Peterson
A Game of Thrones, George RR Martin
The Echo of Battle, Brian Linn
Kindred, Octavia Butler
The Warded Man, Peter Brett
Woken Furies, Richard K Morgan
Anathem, Neal Stephenson

Review: Old Man’s War

Now that I’m done with my Master’s, I’ve been finding myself with lots of free time. Fortunately, I’ve amassed a small pile (okay, quite large) of books that I’m starting to tackle. Right close to the top was Old Man’s War, by John Scalzi, which was recommended to me by a number of io9 readers after releasing a list of top military SF books and films. I hadn’t included this book because I was unfamiliar with it, but after reading it, it certainly deserves a place on the list.

Old Man’s War was Scalzi’s first science fiction novel, and for it, he won the John Campbell Award for best new writer. The story follows John Perry, a seventy-five year old man on Earth who has joined the Colonial Defense Force (CDF). People of his advanced age are specifically recruited because of their lifetime of experiences. He receives a new body, bonds with new fellow recruits and goes into training to become an advanced soldier. Humanity has spread to the stars, and its numerous colonies are largely under constant threat from other alien races throughout the galaxy. Perry goes into action with his unit against numerous races in a number of various battles, before a fateful final battle that leaves him the only survivor.

This is a fun read. Scalzi does a good job conceptualizing a futuristic warrior, the training and captures the battlefield and training bond between soldiers. A constant theme that is explored throughout the book is the idea of fighting for humanity, as a race, despite being a radical variation of said race, while not fighting specifically for a unified government or planet. The soldiers go from fighting for a grand concept such as the survival and foothold of the human race to something much smaller and more concrete, fighting for the survival of their unit.

Fans of military science fiction will really enjoy this book for the tech and action. Scalzi sets some fantastic battles throughout the story, and does a good job linking some of them together along with John Perry’s reaction to warfare and his role that he’s playing. A particular draw of military science fiction is the advanced super soldier, and Scalzi’s green, cat-eyed, rapidly healing and computer interfaced soldiers are nothing new to the genre, but they are fun to read about, and provides just enough new twists to the concept to make it modern and interesting.

On the whole of it, the book is a very standard military science fiction novel. It is a fun read, but it has a number of flaws throughout that substantially weakened the novel. The first of these is the title of the novel, and the gimmick that is relied on – the use of old men and women as soldiers, because supposedly their lifetime of experiences will help with their combat experience. This is only touched upon in the book – it’s noted that soldiers have a lifetime of experiences to undo, and throughout the novel, Perry only references his old life back on Earth a handful of times. There’s very little practical help that a long life really provides for a soldier, save for one, and that’s the link to humanity and earth, but even then, that is not utilized in a way that it really could have been, and all in all, older soldiers are really no different than younger ones, given the tech and upgrades that they receive. Furthermore, the end of the book sees the introduction of the Ghost Brigades, experimental soldiers who have grown up fighting, who seem to be generally more effective than the regular soldiers. This entire aspect of the book left me wanting for more.

The last quarter of the book felt incredibly rushed to me. An alien race has utilized a new technology that proves to be devastating to the human ships during one of the final conflicts in the novel, and Perry is assigned to help the Ghost Brigades capture the devices on the planet. This to me seemed to have very little relation to the experiences that Perry had accumulated throughout the book, breaking an overall good story and character arc, and it misses the vital arguments above that would have helped link Perry’s motives in the military with the rest of the human race. Instead, it was a final bang and exposition to which the book ends and it left me both disappointed that there wasn’t some revelations to be found from the characters, and that it seemed to just exist for the sole purpose of the next book, titled The Ghost Brigades.

Scalzi falls into a trap that a lot of military science fiction writers seem to fall into: take soldiers, enhance them, and then turn them loose against alien foes. Essentially, most military science fiction novels utilize military doctrine and tactics that seem to be right out of the Second World War 2 or Vietnam, with little exploration to how the military actually works, and how military tactics change to reflect new technology. Infantry warfare is one of the earliest types of warfare, and I honestly find it difficult to believe that it will exist in the future as it is portrayed. There is no mention of other styles of fighting, such as maneuver warfare that pairs up infantry with armored forces, or the capabilities of air power against infantry forces. A quick survey of warfare in the past couple of decades will show that both are as equally important as infantry forces. Indeed, this is the future, with far advanced technology – what advances might there be in the next hundred years, and how will that inevitably impact warfare as we know it? People with guns in hand fighting as they do in this book is a fairly unrealistic method that places characters in an extreme situation to extract some sort of revelation – that never really comes – from the protagonist.

Furthermore, while Scalzi has put forth a fairly well worn and conceptualized universe, the entire system of the CDF and colonies isn’t fully explained or realized in the book. There doesn’t seem to be any unified system of government between the colonies, and the CDF is deployed at a moment’s notice to wherever there are problems with one of the colonies. For a massive government waging constant war against aggressors, it seems illogical that there doesn’t appear to be any sort of overall plan or guiding strategy that both utilizes diplomacy to secure its borders and military force as a way of enforcing those borders, if you’re a student of Clausewitz. Military forces are not deployed willy-nilly in the real world, without extensive benefits to that government. Here, the colonies seem to be fighting holding actions, with some allies, to hold onto their planets. The absence and outright rejection of diplomacy in this world seems even more illogical.

That all being said, this is an interesting, fun and light read for anybody who is inclined to read military science fiction. While the book doesn’t really add anything significant to the subgenre, that’s not necessarily the requirement for a good read in the genre. I am interested to see where Scalzi will take this world and characters, and as such, I’ve already picked up The Ghost Brigades. Hopefully some of the issues will be corrected at some point in the upcoming novels in his series, and if not, it’s not detrimental to the world that has been set up.

A Library Without Books

The other day, I came across an article that really shocked me. The Cushing Academy in Ashburnham, MA has decided to eliminate their twenty-thousand book library in favor of a digital one. According to the article, they have spent $500,000 to transform the library into a ‘learning center’ which will be outfitted with several widescreen televisions to display data from the internet and can interface with student laptops, while they have purchased 18 e-book readers (Most likely the Kindle and Sony Reader) which will have access to a large digital library. To cap it off, a coffee shop is being built in place of the circulation desk, including a $12,000 cappuccino machine.

While this really annoys me, I can see why the change is being made. The internet is becoming far more prevalent in our lives, and e-books are going to be on the rise with the successes of Amazon.com’s Kindle device and other similar brands. The school is certainly making a logical, and enormously expensive effort to modernize their library to tap into these new changes in how education might go. With this upgrade, students will have access to quite a lot of material.

There are a large number of flaws with this idea, however. The first thing that came to mind for me was what happens during a prolonged power outage? My iPhone, with an e-book reader will barely last a day as I use it, and in a situation such as that, it’s going to be going off until I can plug it in. While I can understand the desire to switch to a completely digital library, I can’t understand why this would include eliminating the traditional stacks and contents of the library.

This doesn’t necessarily stem from a desire to keep books because of the tactile feel and ease of reading – that is certainly a consideration, but that is not the sole virtue of keeping books on the shelves. The biggest concern that the teachers should feel here is the missed opportunities for students to utilize a working library in all aspects – being able to accurately locate a volume on the shelves, how to conduct searches, and simply browsing the shelves for related content. These are skills, especially in the humanities and social studies fields that will be vital for students to learn, for one simple reason: there are many archives and libraries with content that is not digitalized, and nor will it ever be, because of the sheer volume. Computers have successfully been integrated into libraries for years now – they are an invaluable resource for tracking books and their locations throughout a library. I myself have my own tracking software on my computer at home, called BookDB.

The introduction of online shopping and browsing, such as like on Amazon.com or BN.com, is something that has never really felt comparable to actually going into a bookstore and browsing the shelves. I’ve come across numerous books, some of which I never would have come across on my own by just browsing the web pages for books. With every advance, you lose something in the process. Nostalgia aside, presence on a shelf can also make or break an author.

What bothers me more is the attitude that books are unimportant. Books are easily one of the most accessible methods in which to introduce a person to reading, as opposed to an e-reader, which is not only expensive, but is a largely inaccessible technology for most out there – you need an internet connection, computer, amazon.com account, and so forth. While the successes of the Kindle are well known, proving that there is a market for it, there is a portion of the population that may not have ready access to something like this. People who aren’t inclined to read aren’t going to go out and go through all the steps, as opposed to a bookstore, where they might browse the shelves and pick up a cheap paperback book.

Another problem with internet only and digital databases is the tendency to rely far too heavily on information gleaned from the websites. Coming from background with a Master’s Degree from an online university and working for the same school, I’ve seen a number of examples of students utilizing Wikipedia as a credible source, as well as other online websites, without carefully scrutinizing or questioning them. Websites such as Wikipedia certainly has their places in the world – it’s a fantastic resource for any number of facts, but due to the nature of its existence, it is hard to trust much of it beyond a glance. Online databases are much more reliable, such as JSTOR, but they can be difficult to access and aren’t universal to much of the general public, unlike libraries or public archives.

My own experience with online and digital learning was a positive one, but the experience was not completely digitally based. Norwich University’s School of Graduate Studies MMH program switched from digital readings to printed coursepacks to alleviate the burden on students printing out everything, and continued throughout to issue books each course. I personally found being able to sit down with a hard copy reading was much easier on my eyes, allowed me to take copious notes in the margins, and were something I could turn to without having to restart my computer after I went to bed.

I personally wouldn’t trade books for anything digital. The lesson here that needs to be remembered is that hardcopy books and digital readings are both delivery methods that bring information to a reader, who then does with it what they will. Physical books have the inherent advantage, in my opinion because they are cheaper for the consumer, easier to handle and don’t require additional hardware to access. E-books are a fantastic idea to supplement a student body, either through digital textbooks that could be easily updated and distributed, but not as a replacement to a library system in place. Libraries are far more than just for pleasure reading – they serve a scholarly interest, and their use is something that needs to be taught. Plus, walking around stacks of books is just an outstanding way to get carried away.

iPhone

The future is here, I’m sure of it. For the past couple of years, I’ve owned a variety of Apple iPods to keep up with my growing interest in music. Looking back at my record with the devices, I’m a little surprised that I actually stuck with the product – since my first one, I’ve gone through five. Two 3rd generation Classics, 2 2nd generation Nanos and a 2nd generation iPod Touch, which has since been swapped out for an iPhone. Fortunately, I’ve only paid for a couple of these, because of Apple’s fantastic warranty, which covered the first couple devices when their hard drives broke.

I resisted the idea of buying an iPhone for a while, which was one reason why I bought the Touch from a fellow 501st member earlier this year. That was where I realized that there was quite a lot to these devices, and partially the reason why I went out and got a phone. The sheer functionality of the two devices have been a very interesting one, and I believe that it’s something right out of science fiction.

I’m finding that the iPhone is an invaluable tool – just carrying it around with me allows me ready access to my calendar, a camera, my e-mail, a calculator, notebook, dictionary, thesaurus, first aid guide, an e-book reader, maps, a compass, the weather, and the internet, among other things, as well as being my phone and music player. I’m slowly getting into the habit of tracking my bills, 501st and work events, concerts and a bunch of other things by using it as a planner, while noting down my food shopping list, interesting books as I browse and looking up the occasional word when I come across something I can’t readily remember.

Essentially, what I can hold in my hand is an entirely new method of communicating with the world. I know I’m preaching to the choir here on the Internet. But I’m absolutely astounded that I can check my e-mail, various discussion forums, the news, weather and so much more, practically everywhere I go. (Given AT&T’s crappy coverage of Vermont, my options are pretty limited in places). Thinking back to my family’s first mobile phone, a clunky, bulky thing that could hardly be put into a pocket, and could only do one thing: call another phone. Here, calling another phone is almost an afterthought.

Star Trek is largely credited with the idea of a hand-held communicator, and the idea has been used throughout the SF genre for years. Taken back to the 1960s, an iPhone, even without having any form of cellular network to operate on, would still be a pretty handy device – it already would be more powerful than the Apollo spacecraft, and considering that the computers of the time were the size of a room. No wonder that the idea of a handheld, wireless communications device would have been a radical idea at the time, and even throughout the next couple of decades, this sort of thing can be used as a prop in the genre.

What interests me more is that for such a rapid development in our society, the influence of something such as a smart phone doesn’t seem to make its appearance in Science Fiction as prominently as it might have been. During the Golden Age of Science Fiction, the knowledge that someday, people could walk around, constantly in contact with one another via an impossible technology would have made prime story material for some of the authors. Indeed, some of the effects of these devices would probably fulfill some science fiction authors worst nightmares about a healthy society. The declines in reading, the mutilation of reading and writing abilities, the shorter attention spans and other, similar troublesome trends that we are seeing now help provide the need for such devices.

I for one, have noticed the changes in my own behavior with my phone. Before, I existed without internet at my apartment, although I could check my e-mail on my prior phone. I didn’t have television and most of my news updates came from my commute to and from work. Now, I find myself checking my messages every hour or so, while being able to access an incredible amount of information whenever I think of it. Should I want to learn anything about the Faroe Islands (an island group in Northern Europe between Norway and Iceland), or if I need to look up the meaning for the word ’causerie’ (light informal conversation for social occasions) or tomorrow’s weather, (Mostly sunny, highs in the mid 70s, Light and variable winds…), I have it at my fingertips. I’ve made a conscious effort to fill my phone with things that are useful, and as such, I’ve found that in this regard, the phone is a very powerful tool, akin to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, or the Encyclopedia Galactica. But at other times, I just want to put it away, and just read a book.

Unfortunately, the phone has that covered. I downloaded the iPhone’s version of Amazon.com’s Kindle technology, which further adds to its already impressive array of uses by turning it into an ebook reader. I’ve downloaded a handful of the free offerings from the website. I’m currently reading Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon, Kim Stanley Robinson’s Red Mars and China Mieville’s Perdido Street Station, which is sure to keep me occupied at the next time that I am stuck in a line or away from my books. I can’t say that I’m sold on the idea of an ebook reader, but with the option, and the occasions when I’ve found myself away from whatever I’m reading, I find it to be incredibly useful.

A couple years ago, this sounded like something out of a science fiction novel or film – the advances in technology and miniaturization over the past couple of years has the potential to change how we learn, access information and communicate with one another, but it doesn’t change the way in which we interpret that information – it just gives us more and more as people’s appetite for information over knowledge increases, which I find more worrying. I like to think that I have customized the programs in my phone be of use, for communications and information access, as well as for entertainment, and as a result, it’s by my side constantly. It’s handy, but I’m happy that there is one feature on it that has been a staple of all computers since their creation: an off switch.

Review: The Magicians

Within the fandom genre, I consider myself a fan of Science Fiction over Fantasy. I’m more intrigued in the sheer variety that Science Fiction presents itself with as well as the notion of humanity (or whatever other race portrayed in any given story) pulling itself up on its own two feet with emperical science. Yet, I find myself coming back, time and again, to fantasy works for the absolute sense of escapism and wonder that I often feel with the books that I pick up. I tend to be particularly picky with fantasy books because it is very rare that a fantasy book will evoke some sort of feeling like that from me.

It is because it didn’t do this, I think, is what I really liked from Lev Grossman’s latest novel, The Magicians. In this fantastic addition to the fantasy genre, Grossman puts together a book that is radically different than just about every other fantasy novel out there, breaking a lot of the very common elements that seem to define the fantasy genre. On a first glance, The Magicians doesn’t seem to be very different from any number of well known fantasy books. A boy in his teens is brought to a magical academy, where he learns the various arts of magic, in a school that is hidden from the rest of the world. Without presupposition, anyone would immediately label this as any part of the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. Within the modern day world that Grossman puts together, Quentin, our protagonist, and his friends, are fans of the Fillory series that sees a family of children stumble into a magical world where they often help to fight for good and right in an epic quest. Again, someone would identify this plot as that of C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia. While this book certainly has been influenced by these, and more – J.R.R Tolkien’s epic The Lord of the Rings is mentioned a couple of times, not to mention the game Dungeons and Dragons, it cleverly turns many of the ideas and themes that defined these pillars of the fantasy genre on their heads.

Grossman’s fantasy world is no different than our own. This story takes place largely in our world, with the normal staples referenced for proper placement, but with a side world of magic. Unlike the rediculously cartoonish version that J.K. Rowling presents (which, even as a fanboying 13 year old, never made sense to me), Grossman’s alternative world functions in much the same way – magic is dull, time consuming and work. The people who study at colleges for magic study (such as Brakebills, in New York), graduate and enter the dull working world and fail to see that their lives have become essentially meaningless. There is a fantastic quote in the book that stuck with me:

“This wasn’t Fillory, where there was some magical war to be fought. There was no Watcherwoman to be rooted out, no great evil to be vanquished and without that everything seemed so mundane and penny-ante. No one would come out and say it, but the world wide magical community was suffering from a serious imbalance: too many magicians and not enough monsters.” (Grossman, 210)

What Grossman has essentially done, was insert real life into fantasy. The mundane aspects are there, but along with that is the cynicism and skeptical nature that one feels for life the more you learn from it. This book comes at a particularly interesting point in my own life where I find the text to be highly relatable. We enter college and expect to change the world, only to find that real life is far more dull than anybody bothered to tell us. The Magicians carries with it a resentful, sullen approach to fantasy, something completely contrary to the grand themes that most fantasy novels portray. Indeed, the main action and villain in the book hardly appear at all; just once early on, and in the last quarter of the book, when the characters stumble upon their quest. Even then, their quest is not a noble one, it is scattered, disorganized and brutal, where they turn out to be pawns in a far larger story that helps to tie the entire book together.

There are other elements to fantasy that Grossman stumbles upon that seems to be largely untried ground, at least with some modern works, the effects of magic and power upon a magician. While books such as Lord of the Rings look to the corrupting influence of power, Grossman expands this a bit and utilizes the theme throughout the story. His characters are unhappy creatures through most of the book, and one character hits it right on the head when they note that magicians are different because they are in pain, and from that pain comes the willpower and drive to succeed and make magic. Another character looks back towards the end of the book and wonders at the sheer power that the students are exposed to so early on, and speculates as to just what type of influence that would have upon them. But, for all the corrupting influences that magic might have upon its users, it is clear by the end of the book, when Quentin has retreated from its teachings, that there is still an irresistible pull and wonder to it that makes it hard to walk away from.

I like this approach to a story, changing the entire focus. In essence, it is Harry Potter, grown up. When I first read Rowling’s series, I was in the middle of high school, and couldn’t have made any critical points about the book if my life had depended upon it. Now, it is as if those major elements have undergone the same sort of transformation and growth that I’ve gone through in the past decade or so since I first read the books. Grossman’s fantasy is darker, far more adult and much more interesting from a storytelling perspective, I think, than all of Rowling’s series put together.

Reading over other reviews of this book, I can see a number of critics and reader who just don’t get the purpose of the book. While it does appear to be very similar to the aforementioned Harry Potter and Narnia series (there is no way to escape comparisons here), it is the themes and tone that sets this book far apart from them. The Magicians presents a far more realistic setting in a fantasy world, because that suits the characters, casting away the usual black and white morality with one that is far more gray. There are few clear cut moral resolutions here. Every character is damaged in their own way – Quentin, tired of life from early on, Alice, who has grown up with parents who are unable to see their meaningless purposes in life, Penny, who is so standoffish that he is an outsider, Janet, who is so consumed with herself that she must be the center of all problems and Eliot who is consumed with greed and lust. Throughout, the characters are often confronted not with a clear and present danger, but with the simple problem of finding their way in the world as role models and loved ones let each other down, or as childhood standbys turn out to be far more than they appear, such as what happens with the Fillory series within the book.

The Magicians is a thoughtful, interesting and dark read. Like his predecessors in the genre, Grossman has put together a highly imaginative and creative tale. While I often turn to fantasy because of its escapism, I was absolutely enraptured with its view of the modern world through a slightly different lens, one that I can not only relate to, but agree with almost completely. While I’m usually a Science Fiction fan, this book completely captivated me throughout, and is likely going to be on my list of top fantasy works.