The eminent contemporary SF writer K.S. Robinson books are more miss (The Years of Rice and Salt, 2312) than hit (Mars trilogy, Science in the Capital trilogy) for me. But the hits are so good, that I’m willing to try anything by him. His latest book about a generation ship, “Aurora” is a sort of hit, just like Galileo’s dream.
“Aurora” falls in a SF Goldilocks zone. It has just enough action, just enough details, just enough of plot twists, just enough of diverse real world science to be educating as well as entertaining. The unusual narrator is a plus, as wells as a female protagonist, Freya, and her mother, Devi, who is “the closest the ship had to a captain.” The protagonist doesn’t have a classical love interest, which is also a plus in my opinion. If a cannot warm up to a sketchy, pessimistic Devi that never develops any deep relationships, it probably reflects my indoctrinated mind.
Via FreelanceWriting.com’s eNewsletter I found out about SciPhi Journal, which combines two of my hobbies, science fiction and philosophy.
Just as I was despairing that the modern SF lost the philosophical depth of Bradbury’s, Le Guin’s and Strugatskys’ works. I also despaired that “the Kindle revolution” is selecting for fast writing authors who churn out multiple sequels of mediocre quality.
In theory, magazines like this (selective acceptance, reader revenue based, paying the authors) can start a new Golden Era of SF just as the 1930s pulp fiction American magazines gave us SF classics.
P.S. I must declare a conflict of interests: I am submitting my short story to the magazine. However, I bought N3 and overall quality is good. I liked a story by Mark Andrew Edward so much that I started looking for his other work.
For example, in a scene in Well’s novel, Island of Dr Moreau (1896), Prendick is running away from Dr. Moreau and his assistant. The protagonist has a mistaken belief that he is in danger of being vivisected and turned into one of the Best Men. Eventually, he is cornered and makes an impassioned plea to the Beast Men, who also take part in the pursuit under the leadership of the Doctor: “You who listen! Do you not see these men still fear you, go in dread of you? Why, then, do you fear them? You are many—” (1, Chapter 13). The sentence is never finished, but I hypothesize the unsaid but implied end of it.
There is a poem,“The Masque of Anarchy”(2), by a romantic poet, P. Shelley, the husband of Frankenstein’s author, which ends:
Rise, like lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number!
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you:
Ye are many—they are few!”
The poem is dedicated to the victims of Peterloo Massacre in Manchester in 1819 and written in the same year. About 60 000 people gathered for a peaceful protest demanding universal voting rights. They were attacked by the cavalry and at least 15 people died, 400 were injured. The riot was named after the anti-Napoleonic victory, Waterloo.
Therefore, despite their strange appearance and habits, Prendick is appealing to the universal humanity of the Beast Men. As a potential victim, he feels more in common with strange creatures than with two Englishmen in charge. The coming XX century will see the expansion of universal human rights in the former British empire from white men of property to white women and non-white people. Including when the rights were not given but taken by “many” from “few”.
In fact, as I was surprised to discover, after the Peterloo Massacre proudly anti-revolutionary Britain was as close to a revolution as it would ever be. The government, presided over by the anti-reformist, pro-landowner Duke of Wellington of the Waterloo fame, gave in in the end and implemented the voting reform.
P.S. A movie “We Are Many“ about anti-Iraqui war protests shows that the image of them and us, them in charge, us in the right and saying about it, is popular 200 years later
1) G.H. Wells — The Island of Dr. Moreau,
2) P.B. Shelley — The Masque of Anarchy
I recently re-read The island of Dr. Moreau as a part of Fantasy and Science Fiction: The Human Mind, Our Modern World course. I’ve read it in a Russian translation as a child, but the only thing I remembered was men made from beasts. 30 years later I had different thoughts and discovered some interesting things about the writer.
Let’s look at the scientists of the novel. It’s narrated by a gentleman of leisure, Prendrick, rescued from a shipwreck by a ship, which apart from the crew, carries some wild animals and a doctor, Montgomery. Montgomery says that he was a medical student in London:
“Sixteen years being bullied by nurses and schoolmasters at their own sweet will; grinding hard at medicine, bad food, shabby lodgings, shabby clothes, shabby vice, a blunder,—I didn’t know any better,—and hustled off to this beastly island”.
And here lies my personal discovery. I think that Montgomery modelled on the H. G. Wells himself. Wells did study in a private school, quite a bad one. He never was a medical student, but he studied biology under the famous evolutionist Thomas Huxley, and a biologist is often a medical doctor thwarted in his/her ambition.
After this Wells studied in Royal College of Science Association new school until 1887. In his Experiment in Autobiography, Wells says about this period that he was constantly hungry.
Reading this book is like having a conversation with an intelligent, wise*, interesting, very open person. A conversation, because some of the things the author says resonate despite our differences in age, upbringing, and nationality. For example, she describes how while falling asleep she imagines herself drifting on a raft at a dark sea. For me, it is a canoe and a large, Amazon-like river at night.
But the book of an octogenarian author, who became famous in her seventies about life and death is better than a conversation because a dialogue is fleeting like a rainbow, but the book remains – to be shared. The prose is beautiful as well as befits to a long time editor.
I wish my local library had more books by Diana Athill.