In the mail (always wanted to do one of those)

cover of CauseWired

Sharp-eyed readers may have noticed the blog has changed somewhat, having been upgraded from a homebrew of handcoded HTML and an obsolete PHP version of Blosxom to WordPress. All the old links to individual book reviews still work and will keep on working, but this way I can make this into slightly more of a blog and less of just a placeholder.

Meanwhile, in the mail yesterday I reviewed an advance copy of CauseWired, a book version of Tom Watson‘s blog. Watson is an American journalist (not a British member of parliament) who has long been involved in various community and charity orientated web 2.0 and 1.0 ventures. His book is intended as a testimonial to show others how to organise their own causes in a always on, 24/7 internet world with people who’ve never know the world to be anything else.

It was offered through the generosity of Andrew Wheeler, ex-Science Fiction BookClub editor and now some Wiley Publishing bigwig, who earlier this month offered review copies to anybody who “want to read this book before it’s published, and […] have somewhere (preferably online) to talk to people about it afterwards”. I’m in the process of reading it; expect a review this weekend or possibly earlier.

A Plague of Demons — Keith Laumer

Cover of A Plague of Demons


A Plague of Demons
Keith Laumer
159 pages
published in 1965

The advantage of reading a Keith Laumer novel is that they’re so short you can read two of them in the time it takes to get through even half a modern novel. So after Worlds of the Imperium I decided I would indulge myself with another Laumer novel I hadn’t read in over a decade. Reading them back to back it was interesting to see the simularities between the two novels. Both are partially set in Northern Africa, both star tough, grizzled loners whose name start with a B, and in both the hero gets involved in an operation way over his head and discovers the true reality of his world. Though really, that last bit is true of almost every straight science fiction novel Laumer ever wrote.

Not that Laumer wrote to a formula, but he knew what his strenghts were, what he liked to write about and what his readers liked to read. Certainly he always manages to hit my buttons. A Plague of Demons is no exception. It’s as fast-paced as the best of his work, with a nice dash of understated humour, in a writing style that owes a lot to the great American hardboiled tradition, as well as some of Ian Fleming’s work.

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Tales of H. P. Lovecraft — H. P. Lovecraft

Cover of Well of Lost Plots


Tales of H. P. Lovecraft
H. P. Lovecraft
Joyce Carol Oates, editor
328 pages
published in 1997

It’s almost embarrassing to say this, but apart from the occasional short story in an anthology here or there, this is the first I’ve read of H. P. Lovecraft. Just as well then that this is an excellent introduction to Lovecraft, featuring many of his most famous works. The stories have been selected by Joyce Carol Oates, an not entirely unknown writer herself. What I like about Tales of H. P. Lovecraft is that she has managed to create a well balanced collection without any weak stories. It starts off slow, with several more conventional horror stories, the stories increasing both in length and sophistication, slowly immersing you in Lovecraft’s world.

Despite having only sampled Lovecraft in the past, I pretty much knew what to expect, since his influence is so pervasive in science fiction and fantasy literature. Even if you’ve never read any of his stories, you’ll probably have encountered some pastiche, homage or reference to him in other writers’ work, even discounting those authors like Derleth who imitated him outright.

I am not a big fan of horror on its own. I just don’t read scary stories for the sake of being scared; I don’t even watch that many “straight” horror movies. For the most part, horror bores me unless there is more to it than just being scared. With Lovecraft, there is, as this collection shows. In his best works, many of which are in this collection, Lovecraft espoused a coherent worldview and philosophy, best summed up in the following quote from Call of Cthulhu:

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.

At first this might sound like the same backwards “philosophy” espoused in the Frankenstein and other monster movies of that period: “that there are some things Man should not know”; but Lovecraft’s vision was not as simplistic as that. Lovecraft’s worldview stems from a deep awareness of the new horizons science had opened up in his lifetime; many of the stories in this volume speak of this awareness. Lovecraft wrote at a time when the implications of both Einstein’s theories of relativity and quantum physics were just starting to sink into the popular consciousness, while simultaneously the scale of the universe was revealed for the first time. The idea of an universe both unimaginably old and unimaginably vast, in which even the very foundations of matter were no longer sacrosanct you can react to either with joy or horror; Lovecraft chose the latter.

  • The Outsider (1921)
    This is an almost generic O Henry type of story, with the surprise twist at the end telegraphed well in advance. Coupled with a prose that is not so much purple as ultraviolet, this is the worst story in the collection, with little of the interest of the others.
  • The Music of Erich Zann (1921)
    Another very short story like The Outsider, but much improved. No twist ending here, but a slow building up of dread, climaxing in a crescendo of fear caused by the strange music of Erich Zann.
  • The Rats in the Walls (1923)
    The American descendant of an ancient line of English aristocrats returns to his family’s home seat to restore it to its former glory, ignoring the local superstitions. Until he starts hearing the sounds of rats in the walls that is. Well done although. the name of the protagonist’s black tomcat is a bit unfortunate.
  • The Shunned House (1924)
    In Providence stood an old house, filled with a peculiar kind of horror owned to its history as a place of unhappiness. Something unspeakably ancient and evil is slumbering there, something that sucks the life out of those unfortunate enough to life in it. The narrator has learned of the house history and the larger part of the story is his recounting of this history — Lovecraft does this a lot, interrupting his story by letting the hero tell everything he learned about the horror he has faced or is going to face.
  • The Call of Cthulhu (1926)
    This is the key text for the whole Cthulhu mythos.; I believe this is the first story to feature Cthulhu and the only story Lovecraft wrote which actually showed it. The story is written in two parts, with the narrator being the only one who knows the connection between the two separate tales. The first story tells of a raid on a Louisiana cult of Cthulhu worshippers, the second is the log book of a Norwegian sailor who actually encounter the newly risen city of R’lyeh, where Cthulhu lives.
  • The Colour out of Space (1927)
    A meteorite crash landing on a New England farm turns out to be some unknowable alien presence, damning the farm by its existence.
  • The Dunwich Horror (1928)
    This is the only story in the entire collection in which the protagonists confront the horror head on and not only survive, but succeed in driving it from our world.
  • At the Mountains of Madness (1931)
    The most science fictional of the stories in this volume, with the horror de-emphasised. An expedition to Antarctica finds a hideous, ancient city inhabitated by the very same evil that caused the collapse of this civilisation that aroused countless aeons before humanity. Lovecraft manages to evoke a sense of wonder comparable to that found in some of the best science fiction stories, through the vast vista of history revealed in the course of it.
  • The Shadow over Innsmouth (1931)
    Another Cthulhu Mythos story, this is a very creepy story, not least because of some unfortunate undercurrents embedded in it. The basic horror in the story is the idea of miscegenation between humans and the socalled Deep Ones, gill people living in the sea off Innsmouth. The narrator, at first curious about the truth behind the “Innsmouth look”, then revulsed when discovering what lies behind it and finally accepts his own fate, when he finds out what’s hidden in his own family tree….
  • The Shadow out of Time (1935)
    Nathaniel Wingate Peaslee was the subject of a curious amnesia: for five years his body was taken over by a secondary personality. He could remember nothing of these years, but through dilligent investigation and the slow recovery of his memories he managed to discover his mind had been taken over by an alien intelligence,living on Earth many millions of years before the ascent of man… The horror in this story lies not in the evil intentions of the aliens, whose motives if not benign are certainly not evil, but in the knowledge of their existence and all it entails. Far from being the master of the universe, man is just a mere upstart, with no knowledge of the immense powers that exist elsewhere.

The Mercenary — Jerry Pournelle

Cover of The Mercenary


The Mercenary
Jerry Pournelle
223 pages
published in 1977

The Mercenary is one of those books in my collection I’m a bit ashamed of. Not because it’s so badly written, but because its politicsare so embarrassing. Having it on my bookshelves is a bit like owning a collection of books about the nazis and the Second World War; you can be genuinely interested but it still looks bad to see a row of red and black bookspines with swastikas plastered all over them. Yet it’s precisely because of its politics that I kept it when I was purging my collection a few years back and why I reread it now. The Mercenary is a book that stands at the root of one of the more succesful –and distasteful– science fiction subgenres: mil-sf and in it can be found a lot of what makes the genre so awful so often.

Science fiction has always had a large conservative, rightwing streak running through it and Pournelle falls squarely in this tradition. This in itself is not a problem; some of science fiction’s best writers, like Poul Anderson, H. Beam Piper or Robert Heinlein were conservatives or had rightwing sympathies and you can still enjoy (most of) their stories without necessarily agreeing with their politics, even when they’ve made them explicit. What makes Pournelle different is that he goes beyond this. He’s not just a conservative, but a reactionary. His politics as shown in The Mercenary have fascist overtones, though I don’t believe he’s a fascist himself. No doubt if you asked him he would describe himself as an American conservative and believer in a strong democracy, though weary of the wisdom of the average voter, but what comes across here is his deep pessimism and mistrust of democracy and his yearning for a saviour to safe democracy from itself.

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The Voyage of the Sable Keech — Neal Asher

Cover of The Voyage of the Sable Keech


The Voyage of the Sable Keech
Neal Asher
506 pages
published in 2006

On second thought, this might have been the wrong Neal Asher book to start with, being a sequel to an earlier novel set in an universe that itself has been worked out over the course of a half dozen or so novels. But it was the only book I had with me, so I persevered. Fortunately The Voyage of the Sable Keech was standalone enough not to be completely opaque. The reason I wanted to try out Neal Asher’s work was because he kept being compared to people like Ken MacLeod, John Meaney, Alistair Reynolds and Liz Williams, part of that whole generation of late nineties British science fiction authors I like so much. Happily he didn’t disappoint, even if this was a bad book to start with.

What I liked about The Voyage of the Sable Keech wasn’t so much the plot, as that was fairly confusing since I had not read The Skinner, which this was a sequel to. What got me was both the inventiveness of the world Asher created as well as the matter of fact way in which he presents his world. In some ways it’s easily as baroque as some of China Miéville’s novels, but Asher’s writing style doesn’t draw attention to it the way Miéville’s does.In some ways The Voyage of the Sable Keech reminded me of Steven Erikson’s Gardens of the Moon, as it has a simular outrageous mix of technologies and powers, just in a science fiction setting rather than a fantasy one.

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