Anne McCaffrey again

Tom Spurgeon links to my review of Dragonquest and expands on it:

I think he’s right, but I actually think he undersells those core trilogies, which I think are pretty great for smart kids and teens. There are a bunch of reasons, including but not limited to: McCaffrey’s prose is ideally suited for younger readers, straight-forward and no-fuss; the plots are reasonably complex without being over-challenging in terms of adult themes, the Harper Hall trilogy is where I first discovered the boarding-school fantasy that the Harry Potter books utilize to even greater effect, and the good-guy/bad-guy elements are interesting in that the biggest threat is environmental rather than all-encompassing, directed evil. I was also fascinated by the fact that the two trilogies kind of wove in and out of each other, and by the concept of a civilization that declined rather than progressed. I’m very grateful to have read those books in my tweens.

All points I’d agree with, save perhaps for the declining civilisation; that’s the case in the first book, but by the second it’s clear there’s a renaissance of sorts going on.

Now I have to confess I’d actually never read the Harper Hall books, but by sheer coincidence I picked them up yesterday, meeting my father at Amsterdam’s Waterlooplein flea market. I just finished the first book, Dragonsong today; at less than 200 pages it’s not a long read. But my goodness, this was even more of a wish fulfilment story than the first Harry Potter book is. A girl on the edge of becoming an adult is denied her talent in making music, put down by her family and Hold, runs away and discovers that not only she’s able to impress more fire lizards than everybody else who ever tried, but has her musical gift recognised by the masterharper itself.

Emotional Mass Effect

I’ve been feeling a bit meh the last couple of weeks, both physically and mentally, for all sorts of not very interesting reasons, so I’ve been fleeing into computer games for a while. Specifically, Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2. Yes, two years after everybody else. I’m not done with the latter, as I don’t want to end it quite yet.

To be honest, as a game it’s not that impressive: an action-rpg with first person shooter sequences, mild puzzles interspersed with lots of cut scenes, the mandatory resource strangled research tree to get your team all the goodies, plus a lot of talking to people. The story meanwhile, at least in it’s broad outline, isn’t that special either: you are the only one standing between Galactic Civilisation and the existential threat of the Reapers and in the second game you have to assemble a crack squad of humans and aliens to deal with their latest scheme.

Part of what does make the Mass Effect games special I’ve already talked about a while back: the heroine, Shepard herself (you can also play with the male version of her, but only dullards do so) and her relationships with her crew and allies. BioWare created a great character, but ultimately it’s your own choices in playing the games that make Shepard who she really is. That’s where the depth of the games, especially the second game — which you can start with the full history of what you did in the previous one– lies in. And it all starts with the character creation.

Femshep

In my case Shepard is a Black, lesbian woman who has a thing for pink and yellow armour, who tries to do the right thing in every situation, has a thing for aliens, always tries to persuade rather than force people to help her, but who does sometimes have a temper on her. She’s respected, feared and admired, as well as a bad dancer. The games give you just enough information and guidance for you to make up what your Shepard is really like; the rest is up to you.

But what really impressed me in Mass Effect 2 was the way in which several of the missions and asssignments you can play bring home the effects of the war you are fighting. In one mission you have to find a murderer one of your potential teammates has been pursuing for centuries, where you interview the mother of her latest victim; in another you learn that one particular Asari saleswoman is so hostile because she lost her partner in an earlier war and now distrust all aliens. There’s also the background on Jack who did not have a happy childhood to say the least. Apart from that, there are also more mundane assignments, like reconciling two lovers, or getting somebody’s precious memento of their dead husband back.

The usual games I play tend to be either first person shooters with little plot other than shoot everything that moves, or fairly abstract strategy games of one sort or another, with no story other than the gameplay. The Mass Effect games are the first story driven games I’ve played in a long time, apart from Saints Row the Third (which is much more cartoonish) and the first games to have immersed me as deeply as a good science fiction novel can.

Dragonquest — Anne McCaffrey

Cover of Dragonquest


Dragonquest
Anne McCaffrey
303 pages
published in 1968

Rereading Dragonflight/Dragonquest I realised something: Anne McCaffrey’s influence on modern fantasy is highly underrated. The Dragonriders of Pern after all was a bestselling series long before a Robert Jordan, J. K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer had even started writing, functioning as a gateway drug into fantasy and science fiction for a lot of young teenagers the way e.g. the Potter books do now. Yet she is rarely mentioned when we’re talking about the evolution of fantasy, with the potted histories of the genre usually starting with Tolkien, lightly touching on an Eddings or Brooks before getting to the fantasy boom of the nineties and beyond with Jordan, Goodkind, Rowling, Martin et all. Is it just because when the Pern books were first published fantasy was still science fiction’s poor cousin and they were therefore sold as sf?

Certainly the streamlining of genre history often has the side effect of erasing all the awkward, not quite fitting parts of it, in favour of a more teleological approach and too often these awkward fits are female pioneers like McCaffrey. More so than Tolkien she helped shape what modern epic fantasy looks like. The loner, young adult hero or heroine, in telepathic contact with his or her dragon, saviour of the world though looking extremely unlikely to be so at first, all taking place in a largely medivaloid world, that’s all McCaffrey. But there are differences with modern fantasy as well: her dragons were made by science, not magic.

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Faust Eric — Terry Pratchett

Cover of Eric


Faust Eric
Terry Pratchett
155 pages
published in 1990

Eric is a bit of an odd duck in the Discworld, out of place amongst the increasing sophistication of the last couple of novels coming before it, almost a throwback to the very first few books. It’s a lot shorter, a lot less serious and a lot more written for comedic effect than its immediate predecessors were. All of which can be explained by the simple fact that it was first published as an illustrated book, written around a series of Josh Kirby illustrations, which was later adapted into standard Discworld paperback format, losing most of its charm in the process.

A word about Josh Kirby is needed at this place. Kirby was of course the cover artist for all the Discworld novels up until his death, Thief of Time being his last novel. His work was incredibly caricatural in nature, with very exaggerated figures and bright colours, not really to everybody’s tastes. Some might have found it a bit childish even, but I always liked it. To me his covers were Discworld, especially the early novels when it wasn’t all taken that seriously yet even by Pratchett himself. Therefore it made perfect sense to do an illustrated Discworld story with his drawings, just like his replacement as cover artist, Paul Kidby, would do with The Last Hero.

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Guards! Guards! — Terry Pratchett

Cover of Guards! Guards!


Guards! Guards!
Terry Pratchett
317 pages
published in 1989

For me Guards! Guards! is the last novel you can describe as an early Discworld novel. From here on all the major subseries have appeared: Rincewind, Death, the Witches and now the Night Watch/Sam Vimes novels. It’s the first novel in which Ankh-Morpork becomes more than generic, somewhat over the top fantasy city, with the first extended cameo for the Patrician and the first insights in how he rules the city. Over time Ankh-Morpork and the Night Watch would come to dominate the Discworld series of course; every novel in the main series since The Fifth Elephant either set in Ankh-Morpolk or featuring the Watch or both, but of course we didn’t know that at the time. Back then it was just Pratchett taking the mickey out of yet another set of fantasy cliches.

In Guards! Guards!‘s case, he did that by importing another set of cliches, that of the hardboiled police procedural. Sam Vimes is a hero straight out of an Ian Rankin novel: the grizzled, older, cynical detective staying in the Night Watch because he has no other place to go. He remained in his post even as the watch has degenerated into a farce and he has become a captain of only three men: Fred Colon, a fat sergeant, Nobby Nobbs, a weassely corporal and a new dwarf recruit called Carrot Ironfoundersson.

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