Saturday, 14 May 2011

Word Games


Well, that was certainly interesting. But was it any good?

In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure. I told people I’d enjoyed it immediately after it had finished, but after some reflection, it may be that “enjoyed” might not be the past participle I was searching for. I think what actually happened was that I appreciated it.

Whatever one’s opinion of my fiction, I can at least be described as having some experience as a writer, even if only in terms of how long I’ve been doing it. And you can’t spend too long as a writer, particularly one with a taste for science fiction, without coming up against the problem of exposition.

Exposition can kill a story faster than almost anything else. That’s true across the board, but with sci-fi and fantasy, the problem is massively magnified. Not just because of the increased amount of extra information the audience needs to process, but because so many writers can’t wait to show you their Big Idea. Take Peter Hamilton, for example. Yes, the idea of a network of wormholes allowing planets to be connected by a railroad is a neat idea. That doesn’t mean we need to spend more time on trains than the Fat Controller, now does it?

The point here is that once you’ve spent sufficient time deconstructing the genre, you start to really appreciate good exposition.

(Spoilers follow)

Thoroughly Voided

I finished Peter Hamilton’s The Evolutionary Void yesterday, and I figured a bit of reviewing was called for.  Spoilers follow, unsurprisingly.

The three biggest problems Hamilton’s Confederation Trilogy suffered from were; in no particular order, a damp squib of an ending, characters who were introduced far too long before they were in a position do anything interesting, and sex scenes so toe-curling that even Alan Titchmarsh would have deleted them before he reached the second paragraph.

As I noted after finishing the Commonwealth Duology, Hamilton had managed to curb the first and third of those issues (not so much the second one) on his second attempt (I’m bypassing his stabs at near-future fiction, for the eminently sensible reason that I never read them), but that even so Pandora’s Star (one of my favourite names for a book ever, by the way) and Judas Unchained worked rather less well than their Confederation cousins. There was too much of a sense of desperately trying to avoid repeating himself, which only led to a series of technological gadgets reminiscent of those employed by Joshua Calvert et al, only a little bit less believable or well-named. I mean, OCtattoos? There was also a slight whiff of attempted revisiting-without-repeating regarding the Prime alien, another awesomely powerful and (almost) totally unrelenting threat with a nasty habit of taking control of people (albeit in a very different way). I don’t want to criticise the Primes too much, because they were some distance from the Possessed in a lot of ways, and genuinely inventive to boot, but I still had high hopes that the Void Trilogy would provide something more than another vicious malicious [1] extra-dimensional/extra-terrestrial force hell-bent on destroying the universe as we know it.

Did we get that? Well, yes, in the main. One way in which Hamilton’s writing certainly has matured is in his dealing with politics. He touched on political manoeuvring all the way back when he was writing about the Confederation, and tried – not particularly successfully – to introduce more of it in his first books set in the Commonwealth. This time round, though, he seems to have gotten the hang of it. It’s not Dune, or anything, but for what this is – expansive, primary-coloured space opera, it serves well enough to give context to Hamilton’s apparent purpose here - to take a break from offering up malevolent external threats to humanity in favour of having ourselves fuck everyone else over for a change.

It’s telling that the two most troublesome alien races in this series are the Ocisen, who are noteworthy only because a Commonwealth faction are supplying them with aid, and the Raiel, who unquestionably are in the right almost every time they start gunning for humanity. This time the unquestioned technological and intellectual superiority of humanity is part of the problem, not the solution.

Indeed, the two key messages the third book imparts are as follows: absolute power corrupts absolutely (if not necessarily indefinitely), which we already knew, and absolute fulfilment arrests absolutely, which is a little newer. Not that much newer, of course, the idea that it’s adversity and the risk of disaster that motivates humanity (to say nothing of the rather unpleasant possibility that no human can be happy without being able to identify someone else who is demonstrably worse off than they are) has been around for a while. Hell, the idea that we have to face and solve our own problems has been a key theme of Hamilton’s work since the very beginning.

Even so, this is his best expression of it yet. It’s not exactly massively complex, for sure, but far more assured than the rushed and muddled ending to The Naked God (though in fairness, I was far less disappointed than the end of the Confederation Trilogy than most). Add in the genuinely impressive manner in which Edeard’s story is tied together with that of the Commonwealth characters is very nice (one quibble, though, if Makkathran’s architecture was so obviously similar to a major feature in the Greater Commonwealth’s sphere of influence, how come only Gore Burnelli made the link?)

I’m not sure this series will win over anyone who hated the Confederation Trilogy. It’s also fair to say that anyone who didn’t read the first two Commonwealth novels is going to find some of this a little baffling, if not in plot terms then certainly regarding why we should care about a lot of the characters. And yes, once again the story basically breaks down into a lot of time and energy spent searching for something much more powerful than humanity and asking them to bail us out. It’s not a change of tack for Hamilton, for sure. It’s simply the best example yet of him doing what he does.

[1] Sounds like the best ice-cream flavour ever.

Saturday, 7 May 2011

To Serve Mankind


Picked this up at FPI this afternoon.  Like most such games, it probably works best with more than two players, but even with just The Other Half and I doing battle, it was an awful lot of fun.  I mean, who doesn't want to spend a couple of hours consuming the flesh of the living and turning them into their undead slaves?  Especially since you all have your own character with (very slightly) different powers.  You can be a musician zombie, for example, or a cheerleader or wrestler.  Moreover, each person you infect becomes a little carbon copy of yourself!  You can form your own zombie band!  A zombie cheering section.  Or, er, the WCW.

The only thing you have to worry about is that those pesky humans are packing heat.  Given to them by enemy zombies, no less!  Fuckin' race traitors...

Apparently it can be combined with Zombies!!! as well, which sounds pretty good in theory.  In practice, you know everyone is just going to be arguing about who gets to be Zombi Jimi Hendrix.

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Ouch

Speaking of the lovely Ms Bellanfante, how much must it hurt that her Wikipedia entry contains exactly one line about what she does, and three about why she's so horribly shit at it?

The Game Of Life


Hmm.  Well, my correlation theory from last time around seems to have struck again.  There is again a general sense of dissatisfaction over "Lord Snow", but only from those of us who already know what's going on.  Amongst the newcomers, it seems to have hit the mark.

(Spoilers follow)

3(X+2Y) = You Racist Fuck

I wasn't going to post anything on the finding and killing of Osama Bin Laden.  There's a lot of very interesting and complicated issues thrown up by what has happened, and I'm not really inclined to go through the necessary reading and consideration to decide as to whether or not I should be glad the world is rid of him.

However, there is one thing I think we can all agree on: FUCK THIS GUY.
A ninth grade algebra teacher was suspended from a Texas school district after making offensive comments to a Muslim student in front of the entire class.
“The teacher told the student that ‘I bet you’re grieving,’” the mother of a student in the same class told ABC13. “And she basically looked at him and said what are you talking about? And he said I heard about your uncle’s death and she said wow, because she understood that he was referring about Osama bin Laden being killed and was racially profiling her.”
She added that the teacher “just kind of smirked and giggled and walked away” after the Muslim student ended up crying over the comments.
On behalf of maths teachers everywhere, I'd like to apologise, and point out we're not all like that.  A lot of us are just hollow emotionless shells.

(h/t ABL)

Does This Make Cars Congress, Or Just Democracy?

I hate traffic jams as much as the next squid, obviously, but I have to admit to being amused when the tailback I found myself caught in yesterday turned out to have been caused by some idiot sitting in the outside lane whilst dragging along a Senator caravan.

I'm not sure there's any better name for a massive, lumbering waste of space that prevents anyone else from moving in the direction they've all agreed to go, all whilst being dragged along by a force no-one else can see.

But why be so generic?  Why not name models after individual senators, so you know exactly what you're getting?

The Lieberman: Includes a Tom Tom that spends the entire journey telling you how your destination is the only morally acceptable choice.  Stops dead three miles from arrival until you agree to reverse direction.

The Bayh: Refuses to move unless you drive in the right hand lane [1], and only moves over for the most expensive cars, all whilst the onboard Tom Tom lectures you constantly over the importance of steady traffic flow.  Eventually stops dead, lamenting the massive traffic tailback it itself has caused.  The instant you unhook it, it ploughs into the nearest car and explodes, rendering the road unusable for as long as his FOX contract lasts quite some time.

The Obama: Peggy Noonan mocks you mercilessly for the money you spent buying it.  One year later, you're given control of all the roads.  Made in Hawaii, but no-one believes that because of the paint job.

The Binks: Sports an infuriating and racist Tom Tom which combines a might-is-right attitude with disgusting personal cowardice.  Somehow carries constant risk of destroying the democratic process.  A Republican, in other words.  Wait, what was this analogy about again?

[1] Not because he's American, but because he's a shithead.