1970: The Left Hand of Darkness

                Over the years I realized that I do not read science fiction for the science. While the nuts and bolts of the actual science can be interesting, it is not compelling to me. No, what I look for are places and worlds to explore, cultures to understand, interesting plots, and dynamic characters. That is why I loved Dune and Lord of Light and disliked the Wanderer. All those things are in Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula LeGuin, the 1970 Hugo Winner, and I loved nearly every word of it.

                It is worth noting before we get started that Ursula LeGuin is the first woman to win the Hugo Award and only the second one nominated in the 17 years the Hugos that had existed at that point. There won’t be a dissection of that fact; I just felt it was worth noting. This blog is to discuss the quality of books and authors are judged solely on their works; nothing else.

                LeGuin has nothing to fear on that account, though, because as I wrote earlier, I loved this novel. It had all the elements that I love in a good novel. Before we get into each of those elements, I should explain the backstory for the work. The Left Hand of Darkness is part of LeGuin’s Hanish Cycle, a series of loosely connected books about The Ekumen, an organization of planets and civilizations. Since space travel is so difficult interplanetary warfare is impossible so the main purpose of the organization is facilitate communication and trade. The Ekumen has an unusual yet sensible way of bringing other planets into the fold: it sends one person, called the Envoy, to a planet to convince them to join. Why just one person? Because two people are an invasion. The Ekumen reason that one person is less of a threat and shows the nonviolent nature of the organization.

                The protanganist, Genly Ai, of The Left Hand of Darkness is one such Envoy and he has been sent to the icy world of Gethen. Gethen is interesting for two reasons: it is in icy age and the people have not set gender. The Gethens have no gender except during kemmer where they turn male or female depending on whom they are with. So a person can be both a father and a mother. LeGuin does an excellent job describing a society where the normal male/female relations do not exist. One of the the interesting ramifications of this is most Gethens believe Genly is a pervert because he is stuck as male. Gethens do not fight wars (I found this a bit hard to believe but more on that later) but they are hardly a peaceful or nonviolent people. Instead of war, Gethens are engaged in constant and complex political infighting that can end with assassinations and murder as often as not. For Genly Ai this complicated political situation is made even more difficult by a Gethen practice called shifgrethor. Shifgrethor is a nuanced face saving mechanism that all Gethens use and understand and Genly is mostly clueless. As someone who has lived in worked in the Middle East I am familiar with something like this and it can be frustrating.

                While Genly Ai is a great character and it is fasnating to read about his struggles, the novel is also told through perspective of Estraven, a Karhide noble that arranges Genly’s first audience with the king. To go into more detail would spoil the book but Estraven is a great character and it is interesting to see events from his perspective.

 The societies of the two nations Genly Ai visits feel fleshed out and unique. Karhide is a late feudal era monarchy and Orgoreyn is an industrializing nation with a communist social structure. LeGuin lavishly describes the countryside and the architecture of both places making them feel quite real. I really loved the depth she gives to each society. Too often in science fiction alien societies are too one-dimensional to be really interested.  Star Trek is particularly guilt of this.

The book could be better though. My first critique is more of a backhanded compliment. I wish the novel was longer. It is barely over 300 pages but easily could be another 100 or 200 pages. Gethen is such a rich world that it seems a shame that we can’t read more about it. As far as I know, LeGuin has never returned to Gethen. The Left Hand of Darkness doesn’t need a sequel, I just wish it was a bit longer.

I mentioned earlier how the Gethens don’t go to war. LeGuin has stated that, since they have no set gender, Gethens don’t have a concept of the Other.  There is no “us and them” in their minds. While I find that assertion somewhat dubious (it is her book so she can say what she wants) the Gethens do have a degree of nationalism and do seem to have lower regard for other nations. This is clearly an “us and them” way of thinking. People don’t need much a reason to separate themselves from others. The fact that Orgoreyn and Karhide speak different languages would be enough. I get what LeGuin was trying for but it didn’t really work.

Don’t let my small complaints get in the way of enjoying The Left Hand of Darkness. It is a quality read and puts the 1970s Hugo Winners off to a good start.

A review of the 1960s

                I am just going to come right out and say it: the 1960s had better Hugo Winner than the 1950s. Much better. Only Albert Bester’s The Demolished Man holds up to the best books of the 60s. In sci-fi terms, the 1960s was light years ahead of the 1950s.

                The 1950s is supposed to be “The Golden Age of Science Fiction” where the science fiction moved from the pulp of the 1920s to the 1940s to the more literary work that would start in the 1960s. It was an awkward transition and it’s not for the pulpy elements. I love pulp science fiction and fantasy. I have read and adored all eleven Martian books by Edgar Rice Burroughs and am a huge fan of H.P. Lovecraft and Robert Howard. If you want to experience the best of pulp go read those authors and forget most of the Hugo Winners of the 1950s, except for The Demolished Man.

                But enough of that; this is about the 60s, not the 50s. And if the 60s Hugo Winners are any indication of what I will be reading in the 70s and beyond I am excited. While I did not like every book, there were many that wonderful ones with some I expected to be good others and others came out of nowhere.

                Most of the books I expected to be good were very good such as Dune, Starship Troopers, The Moon is A Harsh Mistress, The Man in the High Castle, and A Canticle for Leibowitz. But I knew about these books and the expectation that I would enjoy them did not give me the same joy as when I found something truly unexpected that I loved. For this decade it was two Roger Zelazny novels, This Immortal and Lord of Light, and Clifford Simak’s Way Station. Unlike the other novels mentioned above, I knew virtually nothing about either author, had never read their work, or even known someone who had read their work. Finding novels that take me by surprise like that is one of the man reasons I started this project. So if I have to suffer through some duds like the Wanderer or Strange in a Strange Land it is worth to find fresh and original works.

                Stranger in a Strange Land was my biggest disappointment this decade. I liked the other three Heinlein books I have read but this one did not click with me. What is so disappointing is that my sister-in-law and one of my other brother’s girlfriend told me how much they loved the book and were excited that I was going to read it. Sorry, ladies, it just didn’t do it for me. I did not grok it.

                The 1960s where a good decade for science fiction and I am pumped to find what the 1970s has in store. Stay tuned for The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin, the first woman to win the Hugo.

1969: Stand on Zanzibar

              The year is 2010. The world is overcrowded and, as a result, most nations have implemented strict eugenics program and children have become a rarity. A scientist in the socialist nation of Yatakang has discovered a way to eliminate genetic defects. The United States is fighting a Vietnam-style war with the Chinese. Mr. and Mrs. Everywhere dominate television. The tiny African nation of Beninia contracts its development to multinational conglomerate General Tectonics. Men are called “codders” and women are known as “shiggies”. This is the world of John Brunner’s 1969 Hugo Award winning novel Stand on Zanzibar.

                And what a world it is. Whatever feelings I have for Stand on Zanzibar (and I have many and they are often in conflict), Brunner created an interesting and complex world which is impressive considering that I read the book in 2012 and it was mildly amusing to think that the book’s future setting was actually two years in the past. That being said and as I mentioned earlier, I have conflicting feelings about this book. I found it, at times, to be each of the following: brilliant, silly, clever, annoying, very realistic, and absolutely ridiculous. Let’s start with the plot and then start deconstructing my feelings on the book.

                The plot is mostly focused on two characters: Norman House and Donald Hogan, two gentlemen that share an apartment (and occasionally shiggy) in New York. Norman is an African American (called an Afram in this book) Muslim who used his race to become a vice president in the General Tectonics (GT) conglomerate at the age of 26. That is not to say that Norman is stupid or untalented, for he neither of those things. Rather he is very ambitious and not afraid to use whatever means he can to succeed. For example, early in the novel, Norman personally stops a “mucker” (slang for a person running amok) that is attacking the GT computer by freezing her arm off with liquid hydrogen. Norman is a tough guy and he eventually takes of GT’s administration and development of Beninia. Brunner sums up Donald in one sentence: “Donald Hogan is a spy.” At the beginning of the novel he is more of a spy in waiting and is later activated for a special mission to Yatakang, a fictional country that is a combination of Indonesia and Southeast Asian countries like Vietnam and Thailand. Until he is called up, Donald is meek and bookish and seems unsuited for his role. While Donald and Norman are roommates they aren’t actually friends and their paths cross in strange ways once they move to their eventual roles.

                While what I described is the main plot, it is hardly the only one. The novel is broken up into a number of sections titled "Continuity"  (Most of the linear narrative is contained in these chapters), "Tracking with Closeups" (focusing closely on ancillary characters before they become part of the main narrative, or simply serve to paint a picture of the state of the world), "The Happening World" ( These chapters consist of collage-like collections of short, sometimes single-sentence, descriptive passages), and  "Context" (These chapters provide a setting for the novel). From what I have read this is similar to the structure of John Dos Passos’s U.S.A. Trilogy, a series of novels that I have not read. The structure works, for the most part, though not all side stories are created equal. Some feel needless, or worse, seem to be setting up a side story that goes nowhere. But it gives a good feeling for the world that Brunner has created.

                What I just mentioned was some of the good elements of the book but there are others as well. Brunner’s writing is good. Dialogue is believable and it doesn’t have some of the clunky workmanlike sentence structure and pacing that I noticed in earlier Hugo winners. In general I liked the story except there were a few sections that went on needlessly long such as at a party where it jumps around to different conversations for nearly 50 pages. Or at least what I imagine was 50 pages. I read Stand on Zanzibar on my Kindle so judging pages can be difficult.

                Slang in science fiction is a tricky thing. Often times it feels dated, silly, or annoying or all three at once such as fracking in the new Battlestar Galatica. Or anything from the Jetsons. That said, the slang in Stand on Zanzibar is mostly pretty good. There is a slight 60s vibe to some of it but for the most part it seems reasonable. Saying “whereinole” for “what the hell” feels right and I absolutely love Afram for African American. Since the correct word has changed so many times of the last few decades Afram seems very logical to me. “Shiggy” as a word for a woman works well in the book, though I would not recommend it for daily use. My wife was not too keen when I called her my favorite shiggy.

                What I disliked was how dystopian the book is. Nearly every aspect of this future is terrible. The U.S. government has become increasingly authoritarian with strict eugenics rules and forced conscription for what feels like any ongoing Vietnam War. Not that those are ideas for a novel but Brunner doesn’t really give an explanation on why this is. He mentions overcrowding and a U.S. population around 400 million but that hardly seem justified for the draconian measures taken by the U.S. government. George Orwell’s 1984 was bleak but at least we knew why. With all the world building that takes place in Stand on Zanzibar some explanation seem necessary. I find it hard to understand a great deal of science fiction takes place in the near future is so dystopian rather than being like the present, some stuff is good and some stuff is bad.

                Another aspect I found somewhat maddening was the character of Chad Mulligan. Chad himself does not appear until a good way into the book but excerpts from his books are fixtures of The Happening World sections. I found Chad Mulligan to be a pompous self-righteous prick, which won’t be a problem if the book didn’t treat him like a genius and prophet. Everyone has met someone like Chad: an individual who spouts garbage on how the world really is and if we only opened our eyes we would see it like they do. Personally, I find Rand Paul supporters to be like this. Even the titles of his books are self-important. What would you think of a person whose books are titled things like You’re an Ignorant Idiot and You: Beast?

                While Stand on Zanzibar is not my favorite Hugo winner, I did like it and I would recommend it to anyone who wants to read a different, more literate science fiction. It is worth your time.

                That is it for the 1960s. For my next blog I will write about the decade as a whole and what I thought of it. Spoiler alert: for the most part the 60s were better for Hugo awards than the 50s.

1968: Lord of Light

               If going through the Hugo Winners has taught me anything, it’s that I should read more Roger Zelazny. His 1966 winner, This Immortal, was a wonderful read.  Lord of Light, the 1968 winner is even better. It’s imaginative and interesting novel with complex human characters even though they are humans on another planet that use advanced technology to live like gods of the Hindu pantheon. Sound strange? It is! Read on to learn more.

                Lord of Light has one of the more interesting (and strange) setups for a science fiction novel that I have ever encountered. A group of space travelers leave Earth after some calamity on a ship called the Star of India. Once on the new planet, they use powerful technology to defeat the native life forms (which are referred to as Demons) and set up a new society. The original crew then molds themselves into the imagines of Hindu gods and rules over the planet. This is important to note that Zelazny is not attacking Hinduism. The “gods” portrayed in the story not just playing the part they are not gods at all. The technology they use is never well defined but that is not the point. Zelazny is not a “hard” science fiction writer and the technology subservient to the story, not the other way around.

The center of the novel is a character named Sam. He is an original crew member and uses novel focuses on his struggle to unseat the self-appointed “gods”. His battle with the gods take place over centuries and Sam uses a variety of means to fight them from out and out warfare to recreating Buddism to drive humanity away from the gods. The best description of him comes from the first line of the first chapter:

“His followers called him Mahasamatman and said he was a god. He preferred to drop the Maha- and the -atman, however, and called himself Sam. He never claimed to be a god, but then he never claimed not to be a god.”

Sam is a trickster, a liar, and a bit of a scoundrel but he is a likable character and nuanced then his single minded goal of defeating the gods would have you believe. In many ways, he is reminisce of Conrad from This Immortal: immortal, powerful, and with ironic and self-depreciating attitude. From what I have read this sort of demi-god is a typical Zelazny character.

While Sam is the center of the story he is not always the main character. Lord of Light’s chapters are semi-independent stories that explain Sam’s struggle with the gods from a variety of characters. Chronologically, the first chapter is the second last with the rest leading up to the final battle. This structure works since it not only eases the reader into the world but sets up the novel’s second most important character, Yami, the god of death. I really enjoyed Yami and his character arc. In the first chapter he is Sam’s ally but for the most of the book he is one of the antagonists. Rather than spoil the story by knowing how it will end, reading how Yami changes and eventually changes sides is fascinating.  Zelazny builds the story so well that it makes sense how and why Yami changes sides.

The writing is vivid and excellent all around. Lord of Light’s world is full of lush detail and there is a constant sense of discovery. As I read I wanted to step into the world and walk around, see the sights and experience it for myself. His characters, which are mostly gods and demons, are well fleshed and feel real. I don’t remember any one of them feeling like a cliché or cookie cutter.

One thing that hurt my understanding and enjoyment of this book was my lack of knowledge about the Hindu pantheon. Because of my work, I know a great deal about Islam and Christianity but not Hinduism. My major difficulty was in telling all the gods apart. Zelazny does give each his own personality but a little previous knowledge would have helped.

That problem is entirely my own, not the book’s, but the book does have one major flaw: the end is a bit rushed and anti-climactic. The key villain at the novel’s end is barely referenced before the last chapter and the end is unsatisfying. For all the buildup over the thousands of years that transpire over the course of the book, I was expecting more. While in the past I have complained that Hugo winners have been too long this is too short and could have easily held a few more chapters without seeming overly lengthy.

Final verdict? Lord of Light is good and deserves to be read. Even as I am writing this blog now I am struck by a desire to reread parts of the book. If you get a chance, check it out. It is not long and I promise that you won’t regret it.

Next week I will review Stand on Zanzibar, the last Hugo winner of the 1960s and a very different novel than Lord of Light. Until then happy reading.

1967: The Moon is Harsh Mistress

              The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is the final Robert A. Heinlein book to win the Hugo Award for best novel. How did it compare to Heinlein’s other winners?  Quite well, in fact. While it was not as good as Starship Troopers, I enjoyed much more than the disappointing Stranger in A Strange Land (sorry hippies and free love enthusiasts). The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is a great sci-fi read and it would recommend it to anyone who loves the genre.

                The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is narrated by Manuel Garcia "Mannie" O'Kelly-Davis. He is a born “Loonie” (inhabitant of Luna) and the computer tech for HOLMES IV, the super computer that keeps the Moon colony running. In this future, the Moon was a penal colony for American and Soviet criminal and political dissents. This fusion of the two groups is shown through Mannie’s narration. He speaks English but there are a number of elements from Russian in his speech. He does not use articles (“a”, “an”, and “the”) and say “My god” as “My bog”, bog being the Russian word for god. As a Russian speaker I appreciated these elements and thought they were well done. Luna is loosely governed by a Warden; it did start as a penal colony after all, but for the most part the people of Luna are self-governing anarchists. Their principal export is foodstuffs and they have started to chaff under the rules of the Lunar Authority about how much they are export and the dues owed on their products. A rebellion begins with Mannie, his mentor Professor Bernardo de la Paz, Wyoming “Wyoh” Noit, and the supercomputer HOLMES IV who Mannie calls Mike after Mycroft Holmes.

                Mike is both the best and worst part of the novel. Mike has achieved consciousness and Mannie helps him understand humans and such uncomputer like concepts as humor. This is funny because Mike has a sense of humor. At one point in the novel, Mike multiplies a few of people’s paycheck to the 100^th power giving them more money than the economy of Luna. Mannie told him doing that was not funny but I disagree. They also go over jokes and discuss the elements of humor. I loved these parts. Mike felt like a supercomputer learning to be human. He was massively intelligent but often understood things like child. He was a well-developed likable character. I still smile to myself when Mannie asks how Luna will defend itself from the Earth and Mike responds “We’ll throw rocks at them, Man.” Or how he refers to Mannie as his “best and only friend” and changes it to “my best and first friend” as he meets other people. Those are the good parts of this character. I will explain the bad parts as I talk about the rebellion.

                Professor de la Paz and Wyoh are typical Heinlein characters. De la Paz serves as a mouthpiece for Heinlein himself as he talks about political philosophy and leads the rebellion. Wyoh is one of Heinlein’s usual female characters: strong, capable, but still subservient to the males in the story. I’ve mentioned in previous reviews that Heinlein’s female characters are this strange combination of progressive and traditional. Not sure what to make of them. Sadly, Professor de la Paz doesn’t come out as realistic as other mouthpiece characters such as Jubal Harshaw in Stranger in a Strange Land. While Jubal Harshaw seemed like a real person even though he was a Heinlein surrogate, de la Paz hardly seems like a real person. He always is in control and knows what to do next making him thoroughly understanding.

                This is part of the novel’s greatest flaw. Professor de la Paz and Mike are so perfectly in control of the rebellion that there is no tension. Never did I feel that the revolution would fail despite Mike giving them less than favorable odds. For everything that happens de la Paz and Mike seem to have a plan response to it. They never were at a loss and never failed. There were small set back but even those seemed to play into their plans. In many ways the actual revolt is the worst part of novel. It never seems to be a struggle and with no struggle there is no tension or excitement. That is also the problem with Mike. His calculations are always perfect. I have noticed this problem in other science fiction as well. Supercomputers are often portrayed as so powerful that they cannot make mistakes. It irritates me and makes the stories less interesting.

                Still The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is a good read. Mannie is a likable character and his narration gives the story an interesting flavor. As a political scientist, I don’t believe that Luna’s self-governing anarchy would work but Heinlein’s description and the thoroughness of his imagined Luna work. I would safely say that this is the second best Heinlein novel I read and would gladly read more of his work in the future. It is not hard to see why he is one of the fathers of science fiction. And if you are libertarian, you should read this book. You will love it.