Saturday, 18 October 2014

Film: Noah (2014)

It's rather difficult to know where to begin with this one. Noah is of course a retelling of the Biblical story (which is actually much older, featuring in the myths of earlier civilisations than the Israelites). It is a very long time since I read the Old Testament story so my memory is a little hazy in places, but I must admit I can't recall anything about fallen angels, turned into rock giants for their sins, doing the heavy lifting involved in building the ark and then defending it against all comers. Oh well, accuracy is not a particularly valued commodity in Hollywood – drama wins out every time!

The result seems likely to polarise opinion. If you like this kind of mythological religious epic, then you'll probably enjoy Noah as it's a grand spectacular with lots of CGI. If you don't, then it's more than two hours of grim and rather tedious emoting and declaiming, interspersed with scenes of noisy violence, without a smile to be had. My sympathies lie in the latter camp.

To move on from the film: why was the story of a great flood so common in various civilisations in the Middle East? It seems reasonable to suppose that there was some cataclysmic event that so imprinted itself on the memories of those who experienced it that it became part of the folklore of their tribes, but what could it reasonably be? Some have suggested a major flood involving the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, the "cradle of civilisation". But there is another candidate, potentially much more devastating in its effects: the joining of the Black Sea to the Mediterranean. It is known that for some time after the end of the last Ice Age (during the period when the first towns and civilisations were becoming established) the two seas were separated by a land bridge connecting Europe and Asia, where Istanbul is now sited. Some researchers argue that the water level in the Black Sea was much lower at that time, and that when the Mediterranean eventually broke through (they estimate about 7,500 years ago), the level of the Black Sea was raised considerably over quite a short period of time – about a year. There is reportedly evidence of settlements at some depth in the Black Sea, where the old coastline might have been.

It is easy to see how such an event could account for the Noah myth. The relentless rise in sea level would have flooded coastal settlements, forcing a mass migration. Some parts of the coast would initially have been cut off by the rising water level, becoming temporary islands, some of which might have been settled. As these islands steadily shrank, so the people on them would have faced the need to get to the mainland. It is easy to imagine makeshift rafts being made on which all of the people's possessions, including domesticated animals, were piled. The tendency in oral traditions for stories to grow in the telling would have accounted for the rest of the myth. However, this theory has been challenged by other scientists, so perhaps some other natural catastrophe was the origin of the story.

Saturday, 11 October 2014

Witch World by Andre Norton

I was aware of Andre Norton when devouring SFF at a high rate in the 1960s and 1970s, but for
some reason read hardly any of her work except for the two Janus stories.  In particular, I was
familiar with the Witch World title so when this 1963 novel was suggested as one of the
monthly reads of the Classic SF discussion forum I decided it was time to catch up.

Simon Tregarth, an ex-soldier living on the fringes of the underworld and with a price on his
head, is offered a chance to escape through a gate connecting this world with another better
suited to him – which turns out to be the Witch World. This world has a fundamentally medieval
society (what is it about medieval societies which makes them so common on other worlds?)
with a few additions of strangely advanced technology. There is also socery, wielded by women
in just one place, the land of Estcarp. Tregarth finds himself involved with Estcarp – and one of
the witches in particular – in their struggle for survival against an inhuman enemy.

There is of course a long tradition of "lone man from the present day finds himself magically
transported to a strange world" stories in fantasy. Burroughs' Barsoom series is an early example
and there are countless others (probably dozens on my bookshelves alone). One of the best-
known of recent decades is Zelazny's Amber series (with the added twist that the hero wasn't
really a stranger, he had just forgotten that he was a prince in that realm – as one does), another
classic favourite being the comic take on this sub-genre in L Sprague de Camp's Enchanter
series. Why is this theme so popular? Possibly because it is ideally suited to escapist wish-fulfilment fantasies; how many people would not gladly leave behind their present lives to start
afresh in a new world, one in which they have some unique talents or high status?

So how does Witch World compare with the rest of the sub-genre? Rather well, actually,
especially since it was a relatively early example. I read the 220-page book in three sessions on
consecutive evenings, and after the first I found myself really looking forward to picking up the
book again to continue the story – a feeling I rarely get these days. Tregarth is an admirable
character despite his dark history, and I liked the fact that he isn't the usual skilled fighter in such
stories; while an excellent shot, he is hopeless with a sword – which is what you would expect
from someone who's never used one before.

I definitely want to read more of these stories and will be hunting down the next few novels in
the series. I was however somewhat daunted to discover that the itch orld series is huge, with
novels published over four decades (some of the later ones with other writers involved). I think
I'll just stick to the ones with the original characters to start with!

Saturday, 4 October 2014

Interzone 254

No fewer than sixteen books reviewed this time, including collections and some non-fiction works about the genre. None jumped out at me as must-reads, although The Race by Nina Allan (who also contributes a column and a short story to this issue) sounds very intriguing. Not a lot for me in the film reviews either, although Guardians of the Galaxy at least sounds amusing and entertaining. On to the short stories.

Marielena by Nina Allan, illustrated by Tara Bush. A refugee from political persecution in a hostile world (which we gradually learn is present-day England), mourning for the woman he left behind. But was she real, or some sort of demon? And the bag lady he meets with items from the future – what does her cryptic warning mean? Intriguing ideas, but frustratingly undeveloped.

A Minute and a Half by Jay O'Connell, illustrated by Daniel Bristow-Bailey. A man goes on the run with a former girlfriend, but taking a pill changes him radically. Again, the concept of metaprogramming pills to provide cognitive enhancement is interesting but the possibilities are left unexplored in favour of the human drama.

Bone Deep by S.L. Nickerson. A woman funds her medical needs by selling space on her body for commercial tattoos, but there is a catch.

Dark on a Darkling Earth a novellette by T.R. Napper, illustrated by Richard Wagner. A future China, in a world in which people have gradually lost their memories; except for the Omissioners, one of whom is trying to make his way home across a lawless landscape.

The Faces Between Us by Julie C. Day, illustrated by Richard Wagner. A young couple constantly hunting for new recreational drugs discover the ultimate hit.

Songs Like Freight Trains by Sam J Miller, illustrated by Richard Wagner. Particular songs may spark memories of the time when they were first heard; what if this could be reinforced so strongly that hearing them took you mentally back in time? The consequences of this are revealed in the relationship between a couple.

Nina Allan's story is the most memorable simply because she is a superb writer, but it is too downbeat to be enjoyable. In fact, there is a distinct lack of optimism or humour in these stories. Does modern SFF have to be so relentlessly dark and depressing? Why should it be so?

Saturday, 27 September 2014

The Lost Fleet: Fearless by Jack Campbell

I reviewed Dauntless, the first of Jack Campbell's Lost Fleet series, in May this year, and thought well of it: "The result is highly impressive: a gripping page-turner of a tale in which Campbell puts to very good use his experience as a US naval officer, bringing the ring of authenticity to his hero's command problems and meticulous accuracy to his description of the complexities of fighting a space battle in which the distances involved are so great that enemy actions can only be observed some (constantly varying) time after they have happened."

Fearless continues the story of the revived hero, John Geary, controversially put in charge of the Alliance fleet deep in enemy territory with the task of getting as much of it home as he can. Cue lots more of the same: detailed considerations of strategic and tactical options and gripping space battles. There really aren't any new elements included in the story, just a continuation of Geary's complex and developing relationship with Co-President Rione, and the dissatisfaction of some of his starship captains boiling over into mutiny with the arrival of a new catalyst.

My previous reservations about the author's writing weaknesses remain: "The total focus on Captain Geary's viewpoint and command problems is unrelieved by any other elements; it's a bit like a meal which is all meat and no veg. Furthermore, although Geary's personality is clearly drawn, there are no physical descriptions of him or anyone else in the book, other to say whether they are male or female, and look young or old.  This gives no guidance to the reader's imagination in conjuring up mental pictures of the scenes".

Furthermore, I am already becoming a little weary of Geary; the way he never puts a foot wrong, always finds exactly the right words, and invariably wins every battle, usually by annihilating the enemy while suffering minimal losses. Despite this, Fearless is addictively exciting and I read it quickly. I already have the next volume on my reading pile but I'm not sure how many more I'll want to read unless the author injects some variety into the stories.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Film: Gravity (2013)

When Gravity hit the cinemas I was very keen to follow the advice of the critics and see it not just in 3D but also on the IMAX screen. Even people who generally disliked 3D acknowledged that this was one film which was made for it, and that the visual spectacle should best be appreciated on the giant screen. For one reason or another I was unable to get to the cinema for three weeks, and when I eventually sat down to book my seats I was very disappointed to discover that the run at my local IMAX had just ended. I still can't understand the thinking behind this; the IMAX schedule wasn't exactly overcrowded (just one showing per day) and the film remained available on the ordinary screen in the same cinema for several more weeks, showing several times a day. However, I couldn't be bothered to travel to the cinema for a second-rate experience, so I didn't see it. Now that it's on DVD, I decided to watch it at home to see what all the fuss was about.

The plot of the film is of course very straightforward and with only two characters of significance it must be one of the simplest screenplays ever written. That enabled the director to focus on what the film was really all about – the experience of being in space. I did think that the plot was rather far-fetched – would the Hubble telescope, and the International Space Station, and a fictional Chinese space station, really all be so conveniently close together in matching orbits? And the debris storm was supposed to have taken out the communication satellites as well – but many of those are in geocentric orbits some 36,000 km up and would hardly have been affected by the same incident that hit the various stations at around 600 km. However, had the plot been realistic the film would have been very short with an unhappy ending.

It isn't the plot that's realistic but the depiction of being in space; the silence, the awkwardness in a bulky space suit, the disorientation of having no "up" or "down", the sharp clarity of the stations in the airless sunlight, the jaw-dropping views. Even on the small screen in 2D this came through very strongly. Clooney isn't exactly stretched in giving a wisecracking hero performance so the attention is very much on Sandra Bullock, who does a good job as a "space virgin" who has to overcome her panic when disaster strikes and demonstrate the Right Stuff to stand any chance of getting home.

I found the film to be edge-of-the-seat gripping, especially in the early part before the improbabilities started to pile up, and well worth watching. However, I agree with the critics: if it looks good on a small screen, it must have been truly spectacular at the IMAX.

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Beyond the Barrier by Damon Knight

Damon Knight was an American SFF writer who was at the heart of the genre throughout its golden period. The first of his four dozen or so short stories was published in 1940, and seventeen novels followed in the period 1955 to 1996, the last appearing six years before his death. As his Wiki entry says, as well as winning the Hugo Award, he was "founder of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), cofounder of the National Fantasy Fan Federation, cofounder of the Milford Writer's Workshop, and cofounder of the Clarion Writers Workshop." His most famous work is probably the short story To Serve Man, which I read long ago and still remember vividly for its shock ending.

I have to say that in general his writing didn't strongly appeal to me, except for the one novel I have kept: Beyond the Barrier, originally published in 1964 as The Tree of Time. I hadn't read it for more than thirty years so decided to refresh my memory.

Gordon Naismith is a professor of science at a Californian university, a former air force crewman who had lost his memory in a plane crash four years earlier. His life is routine to the point of boredom when he is asked a question by one of his students: "What is a Zug?" He finds this a strangely disturbing question and is thrown further off-balance by a series of events which suggest that his forgotten past holds a secret – one that is known by some people of dubious origin who are determined to manipulate him for their own ends. He is forced to question who – and what – he really is.  As a result, he finds himself travelling into a far future in which humanity is about to implement a drastic measure to rid itself of its most deadly enemy, and he plays a crucial role in determining the outcome.

In the fashion of the time, the book is short at 150 pages. There is no padding, no leisurely scene-setting or background character development, the story hits the ground running and doesn't slow down at any point before Knight's characteristic terminal twist. I found it an irresistible page-turner and read it at one sitting. Recommended to all fans of SF of this period.


The second season of Under the Dome has started on UK TV. I reviewed the first series in September and November last year and pointed out numerous unrealistic plot elements, concluding that: "It isn't great SF but has been just about worth watching so far for the performance of the major characters". The first episode begins at the exact moment that the first season ended and the story continues unchanged. As do its strengths and weaknesses. After a couple of weeks of being cut off from the rest of the world there is still no apparent difficulty in finding food to eat, whereas any modern town so isolated, used to "just in time" deliveries of frozen and chilled produce, would begin to run out of supplies in a few days. I'll keep watching for the time being and see how it goes.