It has been a bit of a personal project of for the past year or so to sample from the classics of the sci-fi genre. It’s not that I think modern sci-fIt has been a bit of a personal project of for the past year or so to sample from the classics of the sci-fi genre. It’s not that I think modern sci-fi is undesirable—indeed, I’m a huge fan—rather, there is a lot of reward in visiting trends in sci-fi from other times, seeing the foundations of modern sci-fi, and having a base understanding of the language of science fiction. Sci-fi is endlessly self-referential and to be well versed in the genre it is almost a requirement that certain books be read. This has led to a sampling of books that have challenged, awed, and befuddled me in equal measure.
One of the treats that has been afforded to me in my readings is a deeper appreciation for sci-fi as a vehicle for any type of story to be told. Thus far, the Penguin Galaxy series has been the ideal selection of classics from which to broaden my horizons. Dune is a spectacle of world-building, a metaphor for climate change, and a thrilling political drama that seems almost a precursor to George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. Neuromancer presented a drug-addled future in which the lead character is equally as concerned with his next score and lay as the underlying AI-based mystery. It follows then, that Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness is of similar experimental pedigree and was nothing at all what I expected.
Genly Ai is an envoy from the Ekumen—your standard giant space empire—to the planet of Gethen, or Winter. He is sent alone, as per the Ekumen custom, to bring the planet into the fold of the interplanetary collective. What makes Gethen such a unique place, aside from the inhospitable constant winter, is the Gethenian people. There are no men, no women, only androgynous beings that assume a gender when they enter “kemmer”, or a reproductive state, which happens on a regular cycle. Thus the world of Winter is unlike our own in climate and culture.
Though there are guaranteed to be thought pieces, theses, and reviews that have put it more eloquently than myself, The Left Hand of Darkness is a different breed of sci-fi. I like to think of it as a more anthropological sci-fi. Genly Ai’s journey to come to grips with a culture that holds no gender roles is more philosophical and emotional than I’d expect from most sci-fi. Where other books would spend time with physical conflict, The Left Hand of Darkness relishes in the expansion of Genly’s personal understanding of gender.
It certainly makes for as topical a read today as it did when first published back in 1969. Gender and sexuality seem to so often fall into circuitous discussions in public and on the internet, and it was a breath of fresh air to read what is essentially a long treatise on what it would truly mean to live without consideration of another human’s genitalia. It also makes for a reading experience that is fairly challenging. Estraven, the Gethenian character with whom the reader spends most of their time, is difficult to imagine. In fact, the struggle to remove my own ingrained perception of gender during my reading of The Left Hand of Darkness stretched my mind in interesting new directions. If the intention is to challenge our preconceived notions of gender, Le Guin succeeds.
Though this is all stimulating, the novel does lack a sense of forward momentum that made it a bit of a drag. In particular, there’s a good stretch in the back half of the novel where Genly and Estraven traverse the hostile world with hardly any provisions. This section seemed to drag on forever, and was infrequently warmed by the romance plot that runs alongside it. Though I kept expecting it, the intimacy here never becomes sexual, but is instead emotional, intellectual, and physical only in the sense of two people physically suffering together.
There is a bit of suffering involved in the reading of The Left Hand of Darkness. I took on the book at a time in which I was too busy to give it its proper due and conjuring a winter wasteland is painful when the summer’s sunlight lands across the book’s pages. It’s a book that’s more satisfying in the abstract than appealing during the actual reading. As an academic exploration of classic sci-fi, it fits the bill even if it doesn’t make for an enjoyable experience overall....more
Neuromancer is a most peculiar novel that deserves a peculiar review. So,
THREE PEOPLE WHO WILL (PROBABLY) NOT LIKE Neuromancer AND THREE PEOPLE WHO (PNeuromancer is a most peculiar novel that deserves a peculiar review. So,
THREE PEOPLE WHO WILL (PROBABLY) NOT LIKE Neuromancer AND THREE PEOPLE WHO (PROBABLY) WILL :
THREE PEOPLE WHO WILL (PROBABLY) NOT LIKE Neuromancer
1. The Reader With Delicate Sensibilities
Does swearing, violence, lots of sex, and drug use sends a shiver of disgust down your spine? Then this is likely not the book for you. Though it rarely veered into territory that made me uncomfortable, Neuromancer refuses to be censored and depicts acts of deviancy with unique prose. You're not likely to find stabbings that are "silicon quick" or sex and violence described in such vibrant neon hues anywhere else. Yet part of the appeal of this novel is a culture that has been rapidly altered by technology, one that is not so unlike our own present. Things that you might find deviant in this novel are presented as perfectly acceptable within the confines of Gibson's future.
2. The Reader Looking For A Casual Sci-Fi Novel
Neuromancer is assuredly not a typical science fiction novel, but it is undoubtedly a classic in the field. Gibson rarely leaves space for the reader to catch up to the fast-paced nature of his story, opting instead for repeat, strobe-like, in media res chapters. What a mind Gibson must have to have created a world that isn't easily understandable, but relentlessly believable. Some terms are never explained and the onus is placed on the reader to figure out exactly what has taken place. As I was contemplating how to write the review for this novel, I kept thinking that the exposition is best described as impressionistic. The world may not be described in terms that we all understand, but it surely captures the feeling of living in an extremely strange future.
3.The Reader Who Loves Everything to be Neatly Tied Up
Though there may be sequels to Neuromancer, I fully plan on treating this like a stand-alone novel. Case, the tale's protagonist, is a hacker in a futuristic world where one connects to the Matrix (think advanced internet, not Wachowoskis) through a port in your skull. Case is cut-off from the Matrix after a hacking deal gone bad, and is made an offer to be restored in exchange for an extremely dangerous hack. Case is surrounded by an eclectic cast of characters who help to peel back the layers of this complicated world. Though the main heist/hacking story is resolved by the end of this novel, there's a lot of high-concept sci-fi that is left up to the reader to consider. If you want a decisive rather than contemplative ending, you should probably avoid Neuromancer.
THREE PEOPLE WHO WILL (PROBABLY) LIKE Neuromancer
1. The High School/University Student
I think almost everyone has to read 1984 or Brave New World as part of Western education. Well, I'd be hard pressed to think of a reason why Neuromancer shouldn't sit alongside them as sci-fi with important messages, and literary depth. Though the world isn't strictly dystopian, the characters are living in a world that is consumed by technology, physical modification, and a wide selection of narcotics. Sound in any way familiar?
Neuromancer was written in a time where the shape of the internet's influence was being contemplated, and where Gibson was allowed to paint a speculative picture of what a world interconnected by technology might look like. This book is rich in its interpretation of how internet culture would develop, and I found it to be oddly accurate in some regards. Neuromancer is the type of book I would have loved to have read when I was in high school, and can imagine animated discussions about it in today's classrooms.
2. The Hipster/Punk/Skater/Mom/Dad Looking for Some Cool Cred
Though there is a lot to be said about the literary and speculative merits of Neuromancer, it is also undeniably cool. Molly, a street ninja with mirror-eyes and blades under her nails, seems to be an almost archetypal badass. How about the visit to the orbital space station run by Rastafarians, constantly cloaked in ganja smoke? So much of this book reads as instantly iconic, and it is no wonder that it was the first winner of the "sci-fi triple crown" (Winner of the Nebula, Hugo, and Phillip K. Dick Awards). Neuromancer is a world that is grimy around the edges, and is all the richer for it. This isn't a shiny-white future that looks like an Apple store, more like Star Wars in that it is science fiction without all the gloss.
3. The Reader Looking For Something A Little Different
You'll feel no shame in having read Neuromancer. You might not like the book, but its craft is undeniable. Gibson shaped a world and cast of characters that could have easily filled a 600-page epic, but Gibson instead chose a restrained, tight, slightly confusing, 271-page romp. I was able to appreciate the book for its literary aspirations, the curiosity of an imagined internet-age, but also to sit back and enjoy some foreign imagery and high-stakes action. There are obvious flaws to the novel: it isn't easily understandable, and the prose can seem a bit tedious on occasion. So, it isn't as if I loved this one the whole way through. However, when taken as a whole, Neuromancer provided an interesting, complicated, and challenging read that I won't soon forget....more
I’ve been sitting at this keyboard for longer than I care to admit trying to coalesce my thoughts about Dune into something coherent. You already knowI’ve been sitting at this keyboard for longer than I care to admit trying to coalesce my thoughts about Dune into something coherent. You already know it’s fantastic though, right? Dune is one of those novels that is spoken of in reverential tones by seasoned reader and relative newbie alike. It’s considered by many to be THE best sci-fi novel of all time and Herbert’s son, Brian Herbert, rightfully calls it sci-fi’s equivalent to Lord of the Rings for inspiring all that came after its publication.
So, I mean, what in the name of Shai-Hulud am I supposed to add to that?
Well, I’ll begin with the story of how I came to read Dune. I’m sure that there have been ample opportunities to read the book. I can remember seeing the black-spine amidst a forest of other spines on my cousin’s bookshelf, of which I had free reign. Yet something always kept me from picking it up. It could have been my obsession with fantasy novels at that time with only the briefest allowances for sci-fi. Whatever the reason, the book continued to pop up. Its sliver of desert on a black background called to me from piles at used bookstores, the shelves of friends and relatives, and even on public transportation. All the same, I never got around to it.
Two factors finally made the difference. The first, my well-read friend (Josh Bragg in real life, but he’s on Goodreads too!) always brought it up as one of the best books he’s ever read. He also took the opportunity to remind me to read it whenever book recommendations went flying between us and, foolishly, I kept putting him off. But I’m a sucker for a great looking book and these Penguin Galaxy sci-fi collections sealed the deal for me. Their elegant cover designs, the intros by Neil Gaiman, a selection of books I’d always been meaning to read, AND Dune was on it? I was absolutely delighted to find the book under the tree on Christmas morning and tore into it in earnest.
THE TIME HAD FINALLY COME
Though it took near 200 pages to really pick up speed, the novel had me hooked from its immersive opening. Here was a world that was familiar and strange at the same time. There are elements of fantasy and religion coupled with interplanetary travel and space empires. The characters touted titles that were inscrutable at the beginning, but became part of my vocabulary before the novel’s end. The novel refused to tell me everything I needed to understand, secreting mysteries without ever outright stating them. How could I not want to know what Kwisatz Haderach meant? How could I not want to know the secrets of Arrakis?
The Layers of Dune
I was swept away by this novel that mixes sci-fi concepts of higher dimensions with political intrigue. Environmental change mixed with an unlimited cast of enthralling characters, and a drop of religious philosophy. Dune is a novel of the highest order: it combines entertainment with brilliant questions that pull from an incredible number of disciplines. Of course, if you just want to read a compelling tale of political plotting, murder, adventure, and discovery, you can totally do that too.
In the afterword, Brian Herbert notes a conversation he had with his father about the writing and structure of Dune. Frank Herbert constructed Dune so that it would be immensely dense. Herbert wanted to create a tale that could be enjoyed on the level of the central conflict: a boy becoming a man trying to reclaim his heritage against astounding odds in a world beyond imagining. Here’s an excerpt from that afterword about the layers.
Ecology is the most obvious layer, but alongside that are politics, religion, philosophy, history, human evolution, and even poetry. (Page 693 of the Penguin Galaxy Edition)
The fact that the novel can be enjoyed from any number of different readings alone makes it a novel of huge significance. Dune doesn’t force you into thinking, but it invites the interested to partake in its rich metaphor and multifaceted meaning. What’s more, Herbert makes statements about his concepts, but rarely does he offer them as the only solution (barring, perhaps, an ecological viewpoint that bemoans industrialization). I dove into different fields of thought between and during readings. I contemplated elegant ideas Herbert proposes and marveled at the structure of the plot and the boundless ideas of this world.
What a world it is! The world building here could fill a university course as Herbert establishes a world unlike any other, but totally believable. When I read about the stillsuit I was astonished by its creativity, but also how it imparted valuable information about the world of Arrakis. Though the sandworms scream for attention throughout the novel, equal care is given to the hierarchy of the Empire, the mystical Bene Gesserit religion, and the curiosities of culture. Herbert also seems to have invented a group of hallucinogenic compounds that are in equal parts trippy, interesting, and betray an interesting look at 1960s culture.
Dune drew me in and took me for a ride that I never wanted to get off.
Of course, when the ride does end, it is immensely satisfying. Dune ends leaving unanswered questions in a fashion that made me feel like I knew enough to be entirely contented. Which, of course, begs the question: will I read the other Dune novels?
Welllllllllllllllll, maybe.
It’s highly daunting to look at the entire Dune Chronicles and think that I would tackle that. Especially when Dune ends in a way that makes me so happy, and especially when the subsequent novels purportedly deliver diminishing returns. For now, I’m too overjoyed and impressed by Dune to consider returning to the world anytime soon other than to re-read the novel.
Obviously, I can’t recommend Dune enough. That’s also not a recommendation that goes to the sci-fi crowd alone. Oh no, this is a book that has great appeal to a wide variety of people. You like A Song of Ice and Fire? Perfect: you’ll love the backstabbing, the plots-within-plots, the combat, the story. You don’t read sci-fi? No worries: there’s a wealth of important themes upon which to reflect. You like sci-fi, your friends continuously recommend you read Dune, and you keep putting it off?
Goodreadians, I think you know what you need to do!...more
Loading...
