summer reading, part the first
So, I guess there’s this tradition which people call “summer reading”. I don’t really have a different reading preference in the summer compared to other holidays, but, as it’s summer anyway …
Lately, I’ve been in a science-fiction mood. Now, I don’t consider myself a huge sci-fi reader. A smattering. A smidgeon. A casual foray. But I’m not a diehard SF reader, nor have I read many of the biggies. Nevertheless, lately the mood has been in a sort of space direction, a desire to traipse through interstellar climes.
First up — and first of the summer reading list — was Revelation Space by Welshman Alastair Reynolds. Is it hard science fiction? Or is it space opera? Reviews and descriptions have a hard time making up their mind; it’s both, actually. Reynolds, an astronomer formerly in the employ of the European Space Agency, packs this book with lots of hard science, including tons of speculative technologies of the biological tilt, as well as quite a lot about stellar bodies, but the plot reads and plays out a bit like a space opera — an interstellar scope, lots of unusual planets, epic events, large cast of characters.
What is not in doubt is the tone. It’s dark. Devilishly dark. Things, in Reynolds’ future, are not nice. Not cheerful. There is very, very little sense of connection with present or past humanity. The civilizations of Reynolds’ setting (if you can call them civilizations) bear very little resemblance to our own; lifestyles can seem inhuman and even bizarre. Many of the characters in the story have incorporated modification technology and bioengineering to such an extreme as to seem more machine than human being. Technology is so advanced in the book as to seem almost alive itself, as if the distinction between human being and machine has blurred, commingled. Indeed, this is a very strong theme of the book, and plot devices and character arcs revolve around this concept very heavily.
Interesting, too, is the concern I had throughout at least the first half of the book that I would not find a character among the cast with whom I could feel any kind of sympathy or strong connection. Reynolds does not spend a great deal of effort making any of the characters very likeable, and often they perform actions motivated by selfishness or greed or pride which makes characters you’re beginning to warm to suddenly difficult to like again (in fact, later in the book he uses apparently selfish or inhuman actions as clever ways to throw you, but I can’t discuss these without spoiling the story terribly).
Here’s a very brief setup of the story: Dan Sylveste, head of the administration on backwater colony Resurgam, diligently excavates the remains of an ancient alien civlization, the Amarantin, in the hopes of finding the answer to why they were so suddenly wiped out of existence on the eve of travelling into interstellar space, and why the human race in their exploration of the galaxy have yet to find any other living alien species. He fears a terrible secret which may mean the end of the human race as well is waiting to be discovered. Ultimately, he is forced into a dangerous bargain with the unfriendly crew of interstellar vessel Nostalgia for Infinity, who have their own dark agenda, to seek out a momentous galaxy-wide horror and discover the truth behind the disappearance of the Amarantin race, while an assassin with complex ties to his past closes in, and the political fabric of the settled planets crumbles behind him.
That sounds a bit like copy, doesn’t it? Sorry. Anyway, it’s a very complicated novel, and the plotlines are many and varied, and cleverly interwoven. Much of the book reads like a thriller; Khouri, blackmailed into hunting down Dan Sylveste for crimes she is intentionally ignorant of, vacillates back and forth about whether she should kill him or defy her blackmailer. Other characters are in similar dilemmas, and most of the scenes in the book are woven through with tremendous tensions, as different characters in tough situations struggle to find the right way to act, respond, and choose.
I think, ultimately, it’s this tremendous layering of tension among characters as the overarching plot thrusts forward, that makes Revelation Space work so well. Without this enormous sense of momentum, I think many readers — myself among them — would become lost in the sheer dark bizarreness of the universe Reynolds has crafted. It’s just really strange, disquietingly so. Reynolds projects this notion that extremely advanced bioengineering technology causes the human race to splinter into extremist groups, some of whom are totally obsessed with modifying their bodies using cybernetics and genetics almost to the point where there is no humanity left.
Then there are the computer viruses, which affect those with these cybernetic implants, causing them to mutate uncontrollably, like a particularly disgusting scene from Akira. Reynolds writing is vivid and brusque, harshly delivering a sensation of feeling and presence without flowery description, perfectly matching the harsh brutality of this world.
If it wasn’t for the fantastic narrative thrust of the thing, I would have drowned in the unpleasant, bizarre future universe, no matter how distressingly plausible or scientifically sound it all is. His absorbing, brisk style kept me moving quite rapidly through the dense plot, and ultimately I was rewarded not just with tremendous humanity and even goodness amid all this alien, disturbing scenery, but a resoundingly satisfying conclusion and collision of seemingly disparate plots and elements. This is not one of those books in which plots meander along and then fizzle out, never brought fruitfully to bear by a lazy author. Reynolds harnesses all his plots and drives them into a focused conclusion that rewards the reader for enduring their intricacy and occasionally baffling variety.
This all seems very assured and mature for a writer’s first book, which Revelation Space is, but Reynolds has actually been developing this fictional world — and his narrative style — for years through short stories published in various British science-fiction magazines. Revelation Space is definitely the work of a confident writer and, even clocking in at just over five-hundred very dense pages, it doesn’t at all seem long-winded or flabby. In fact, despite its tendency I would almost call it a fast read.
Alastair Reynolds is sometimes lumped in with the “new weird” movement, which seeks to advance the art of strange fiction by fusing elements of horror, fantasy, and science-fiction freely. In that respect, I think Reynolds belongs to this class, particularly with regard to hard SF and space opera, but that doesn’t mean that this is a book without concrete definition. If you think that space opera should be like Flash Gordon, you may be disappointed, but if you enjoy the idea of science-fiction with very strong writing skill, an epic plot, and a dizzying array of sights and sounds (and you’re not too scared of taking a walk on the dark side), it’s difficult to go wrong here. I thoroughly enjoyed it; hardly a waste of time.
Up next: Fellow British author Peter F. Hamilton’s enormous — and decidedly less dark — epic book, Pandora’s Star. First of a series, and it’s almost a thousand pages long. Light, fast reading. Perfect.