Reinstituted Review: The Leaky Establishment, by David Langford

This is another review I did for SF Site, and thus am recovering after that wonderful pioneering website went dark. As ever, I note that it's about a quarter century old, and I haven't updated the references within the review -- so I note for example that the "new English small press" Big Engine has, alas, long been defunct -- it was a brave effort (led by Ben Jeapes) but it's cruel world out there for small publishers.

Reinstituted Review: The Leaky Establishment, by David Langford

a review by Rich Horton

David Langford is justly famous in the SF world for his critical writing and his fan writing, much of the latter done for his fanzine Ansible. Both Ansible and Langford have won multiple Hugos in the fan categories. But an odd side-effect of Langford's many fan writing awards is that people often seem unaware that he is a very accomplished "pro" writer. He has published several novels and quite a number of short stories, many of them very good, like his wonderful G. K. Chesterton pastiche of a few years ago, "The Spear of the Sun". But we can't say any more that Langford's pro writing goes unnoticed, for he won the 2001 Hugo for Best Short Story for "Different Kinds of Darkness".

Some time ago I decided to rectify my own failings in appreciating Mr. Langford's fiction-writing side by searching out one of his novels, and the first one I chose was The Leaky Establishment. This novel intrigued me because I've worked my whole life in places which have points of resemblance with the nuclear research center where the novel is set. (Especially over college summers, when I worked at both Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory and Argonne National Laboratory.) At the time it was out of print, and in fact I got my copy directly from the author, but happily it has been made available in a nice new edition from Big Engine, a new English small press which has begun a rather intriguing line of SF, some reprints and some new novels and story collections. [The novel was first published by Frederick Muller in the UK in 1984, and reprinted in 1985 by Sphere (that's the copy I have), and after Big Engine went under in 2003 it was reprinted again by Cosmos Books.]

This novel, it should be mentioned, is not strictly speaking SF, though it is fiction about science. It is more generally in the comic tradition of Kingsley Amis, to name just one writer. The novel features Roy Tappen, a cynical scientist at NUTC, a fictional British nuclear center. By mistake, he manages to smuggle a warhead out of the place, and takes it home. When he finds it he realizes he needs to take it back, but security has been tightened, and he can't just waltz back in with it.

The story follows his constantly foiled attempts to sneak it back in, unwillingly abetted by his computer programmer friend, annoyed by his wife walking out (not too pleased at sleeping in the same house with a nuclear warhead), by a suspicious but stupid security officer, by his nutty neighbor, an active anti-Nuclear campaigner and alternative energy enthusiast, by a moronic newsman who keeps swallowing his hoax stories whole, and of course by a parade of silly bosses. Page by page the book is hilarious: almost too densely so, in that as a novel it loses momentum. Still, it's neatly plotted, with a particularly nice resolution. And the bureaucratic tics of a government facility, exacerbated by nuclear security requirements, ring very true indeed.

Langford's writing is very fine in general, and this particular novel is a delightful example of his abilities with fiction. Definitely recommended.

Repaired SF Site Review: Strange Trades, by Paul Di Filippo

Here's another review risen from the ashes of SF Site. The review itself didn't really need "repair" -- but I'm posting it in part to comfort (?) the author of Strange Trades, who will soon be in possession of a brand new hip. Get well quick, Paul!

Repaired SF Site Review: Strange Trades, by Paul Di Filippo

a review by Rich Horton

Strange Trades, Paul Di Filippo's fifth collection of short fiction, is one of the most satisfying SF single-author collections I have read in some time. As the title announces, the stories are concerned with people at work. Di Filippo explores a variety of science-fictional jobs, some strange due to technological advances, others due to marginal or experimental economics, others because they're set in unusual milieus.

One of Di Filippo's favourite themes is people living on the edges of society, or in the cracks. In several stories in this book, he depicts, with sympathy, a cooperative economy built in those "cracks." One story, "Harlem Nova," mentions Levi-Strauss' term bricoleurs, for "a class of people who live as scavengers, living on the odds and ends the rest of society discards." And the heroes of "Harlem Nova," "Spondulix," "Karuna, Inc." and maybe even "Conspiracy of Noise," four of the best stories in the book, are to one extent or another bricoleurs. "Harlem Nova" looks straightforwardly at the clash between the utopian impulse and the wishes of people who really don't function well in society, as the project leader of an urban renewal effort in what appears to be a very positive future encounters some people he will be forced to evict. "Conspiracy of Noise" is a bit odder, featuring a shiftless young man who gets a job working for a mysterious company. The secret is in what the company is working towards, hinted at nicely by a series of misreadings of simple messages as the story proceeds. Ultimately, the message here is that a truly healthy economy must have a chaotic, or at least noisy, element, though in this story the message is rather ambiguous in nature. "Spondulix" is a rather sunny story of a 40ish man, the owner of a small sandwich shop, who gets involved in an extended scheme to create an economy based on scrip. And "Karuna, Inc.", one of my favourite stories of the year 2001, is, as Di Filippo says, a "dark cousin" to "Spondulix": dark because of some real tragedy, and because it features some truly (even cartoonishly) evil villains. But it's also an optimistic story, in its view of basic human nature, and in the depiction of the title corporation, with its mission:

"the creation of environmentally responsible, non-exploitive, domestic-based, maximally creative jobs... the primary goal of the subsidiaries shall always be the full employment of all workers... it is to be hoped that the delivery of high-quality goods and services will be a byproduct..."

Di Filippo also indulges in some classical SFnal extrapolation. "Agents" looks at computer-based personality simulations which handle interactions in the "net," and at what might happen if one such "agent" became autonomous. "Skintwister" and "Fleshflowers" follow the career of Dr. Strode, a very talented "peeker": a man who uses psychokinetic powers to heal people by manipulating them at the cellular level. The first story deals with a crisis in his career as, basically, a plastic surgeon; the second with his subsequent time on Mars dealing with an alien infestation. "SUITs" is a mordant and effective fable about robotic security personnel.

The other stories are perhaps less easy to fit into categories. "Kid Charlemagne," as the author acknowledges, is a story strongly influenced by J.G. Ballard's Vermilion Sands stories: it's set in an isolated lush resort, and features the inevitably doomed romance of a mysterious musician and a spoiled rich girl. "The Boredom Factory" is a cynical fable that is pretty well described by its title. And "The Mill" -- well, for one thing, "The Mill" is my favourite story in this book: I read it and loved it in Amazing Stories back in 1991, and I loved it as much on rereading it just now. It's a long story that in some ways seems reminiscent of Jack Vance. It follows, sometimes indirectly, the life of a man named Charlie Cairncross, as he grows up in the valley of the Mill. The Mill is a series of factory buildings devoted to producing "luxcloth," which is bought by the immortal Factor for interstellar distribution. In the background are such nice SFnal ideas as the interstellar milieu into which this colony planet obscurely fits, the true nature of the Factor, the "luxcloth," and so on. But the centre of the story is the close depiction of the circumscribed society of the factory villages. This society seems real, and its eventual fate is well-portrayed, the characters are sympathetic and worth reading about, and the concluding scene is truly moving. You couldn't call this story ignored -- it did for example make the Locus Reader's Poll list of Best Novellas of 1991, but it does seem under-appreciated (perhaps because of its publication in Amazing: at that time a beautiful large-format magazine which published some striking material, but which never really achieved much success as far as circulation is concerned).

I recommend this collection of stories very highly. Di Filippo is a compulsively engaging writer -- witty and imaginative, and fond of his characters, so that they are fun to spend time with, and fun to root for (mostly!). This book delivers on its implicit thematic promise, offering a nice distribution of SFnal explorations of people at work, even while collecting stories from all phases of the author's career. Excellent stuff.

Revivified Review: Crown Duel and Court Duel, by Sherwood Smith

This review was written originally in 1999 for SF Site, about two YA novels by Sherwood Smith, one called Crown Duel (1997), the second Court Duel (1998). At the time I rather grumpily concluded my review with a plea to buy the books quickly as they might go out of print soon. The publisher's representative politely but a bit peevedly responded that they actually were pleased with the novels and would be keeping them in print. And they were true to their word -- in 2002 the two novels were rereleased in a single combined volume, simply called Crown Duel. (Apparently, Sherwood originally wrote the novels as one unified story -- though it's fair to say that original two parts are divided sensibly, and really do work has halves of a diptych.) As far as I can tell, the books remain in print -- at least, they are available at Amazon -- and they are considered among Sherwood Smith's most popular novels. (For me, they rank that the top of her work, along with Inda. They really are immensely pleasurable reads.)

I've made mild revisions to the text below, mainly to avoid really out-of-date remarks.

Revivified Review: Crown Duel and Court Duel, by Sherwood Smith

by Rich Horton

Many longtime readers of SF and fantasy cut their teeth on young adult or juvenile novels: for SF, perhaps Robert A. Heinlein, or Andre Norton, or Sylvia Louise Engdahl; for fantasy, The Hobbit, or Norton again, or perhaps Lloyd Alexander.

I remember with fondness the days of the so-called "Juvenile to Please Adults" books, and I still read with pleasure Heinlein's juveniles, for instance. I celebrate all attempts to publish full-fledged SF/fantasy for young adults which will still be good reading for, say, me. [To this end, Tor's Jupiter series of YA Science Fiction deserves praise, and Jane Yolen's now defunct series of YA Fantasy, published by Harcourt Brace, deserves praise, and lamentations at its end. -- The Jupiter series is also long gone, and really didn't last very long, alas!]

Sherwood Smith, co-author (with Dave Trowbridge) of the much prized, hard to find, space opera series collectively titled Exordium, and of a few novels with Andre Norton, wrote five YA fantasies for Jane Yolen Books. The Wren Trilogy is an engaging series of books about 12-year old Wren, and her discovery of her magical abilities amidst threats of war. Better still are The Crown and Court Duet [now simply the one book Crown Duel (with one pendant short story)]: two books set apparently in Wren's world [actually the Wren books are set in a different universe] featuring 16-year old Countess Meliara Astiar, and her bumbling but passionate entrance into the worlds of politics and war.

The first book is Crown Duel. Meliara, who narrates the books, and her brother Bran are struggling to make ends meet after the death of their father. They are now Count and Countess of Tlanth, a remote hilly portion of the Kingdom of Remalna. The corrupt King is raising taxes, and, worse, appears to be ready to violate the Covenant humans have with the mysterious hill folk. Humans have agreed to leave the forests undisturbed, especially the beautiful colourwood trees, and in exchange the Hill Folk supply the humans with magical firewood.

Meliara and Bran are very poor, partly from trying to deflect the burden of taxation from their people--thus, they live more like peasants than peers. The two are just reaching the age at which they will start to pair, and eventually marry. But Meliara, at least, evinces no interest in such things.

As the book opens, the political situation comes to a head, and Meliara, Bran and their people rise in revolt. Smith entertainingly describes an ill-run war, which after some early success leads to humiliating defeat for the undermanned Tlanth people. Meliara is captured, and taken to the Remalna capital city. She encounters the Marquis of Shevraeth, proud commander of the King's forces, whose skill had turned the tide against Tlanth, and takes a sudden fierce dislike to him. The book continues with harrowing escapes, nicely described wandering through the backroads of the country, and a final confrontation with the King's forces.

Court Duel takes up after the war. The bad King has been vanquished, and the Marquis of Shevraeth is the leading candidate for the throne. The court is full of political wiles, however, and some people think Meliara or her brother should either push their own claims or support another.

Meliara at last consents to spend some time in court and we are treated to some entertaining descriptions of artificial court life and manners, including details resulting from things like not being able to use wood for furniture. She is a fish out of water, and finally finds a secret friend, with whom she exchanges a series of letters in which she is able to express her concerns about the false nature of court life, even as she begins to understand the reasoning behind the rules.

Meliara remains confused about who her real friends are, and about whether the Marquis -- who is clearly capable but whom she still distrusts -- or some other claimant, should be King. The matter is pushed to a head by a very interesting, slightly underused (I thought) character, a man named Flauvic who also has a claim to the throne, and who has spent some time learning powerful magic in a foreign kingdom. The general shape of the ending is easy to see in advance, but the details are nicely revealed.

Both these books are, first of all, great reads. Very few books keep me up at night to finish them, but Crown Duel did, and I took an unplanned extended lunch break to finish Court Duel. They are nice formal contrasts: the first almost all action and war, the second more magic and formal court life. If I had a mild complaint, it would be that in both books the Hill Folk serve as sort of dei ex machinae. But this is minor, and does little to detract from the pleasures of reading these two books.

I'm not quite ready to rule on how these would appeal to the supposed target age group (teens, I would think), though I'm sure I'd have loved them then, just as I did now. Among other things, they feature a well-done, very understated, sexual tension, never vulgar, that greatly enhances our interest in the main characters. The world they inhabit isn't quite fully-furnished; I don't think books these short can do that, but the odd details are telling and nice. Highly recommended. [I do believe these have proved popular with younger readers as well as adults -- and the details of the world they are set in are very much filled in in a long series of novels Smith has published, set in various places in this world, and set over a long time. There is one prequel to Crown Duel: A Stranger to Command (2008).]