Old Bestseller: Rainbow's End, by Vivian Radcliffe
a review by Rich Horton
This was not, to be sure, a bestseller. But it represents a genre I take an interest in -- popular romance. Romance novels as a separate genre seem to have started around 1920. Some cite E. M. Hull's The Sheik. Right around the same time Georgette Heyer began to publish. Really, the "genrefication" of fiction was just beginning at that time -- that is, the establishment of magazines and publishing lines devoted to a specific category. Famously, of course, the first Science Fiction magazine appeared in 1926. Other magazine categories were established at around that time as well. Juvenile fiction as a category appeared a bit later -- in the '30s. Mills and Boon began concentrating on category romance in the 1930s. (Harlequin, which now owns Mills and Boon, was founded in Canada in 1949.)
This novel, Rainbow's End, was published in 1936 by Phoenix Press. They seem to have been a firm that specialized in rather lurid fiction in several categories. They've been called "Depression Era Pulp". By all accounts they didn't pay well -- and they got what they paid for, if this book is any indication. I can't find any information about the author, Vivian Radcliffe (which certainly might be a pseudonym, though I don't know that for sure).
As for the book itself, it's rather absurd. Marianne Cutting is a young woman working in New York. Her parents died a year or two before -- her father was a Professor at an upstate university. She is just getting by financially, while carrying on a secret relationship with Avery Pratt, a prat (we learn eventually) studying at West Point. He's a rich prat, though. then one day someone slips her a package. It has a ticket on a round the world cruise, and a couple of thousand dollars for expenses, and a passport in the name "Ann Lewell". She tries to find "Ann Lewell" but can't find any evidence she exists. Desperate for adventure, she decides to take a chance and take the cruise.
Once on board she meets a woman who darkly hints that she knows what's going on, and who insists that Marianne give her any cables they receive addressed to Ann Lewell. She also meets a handsome lawyer named Garth Cameron -- and before long they are in love. But will Marianne confess to Garth her real name?
More to the point, we learn, will Garth confess his role in this whole thing? For he it was who arranged for Marianne's trip. His law firm was engaged by Avery Pratt's mother to bribe Marianne to drop Avery -- she is totally unsuitable, at least in Mrs. Pratt's eyes. But Garth, on seeing Marianne dancing with Avery, fell immediately in love with her. He wants to pry her away from Avery, so uses the Pratt bribe to buy her this ticket ...
Well, some problems intervene. There is the mysterious girl who wants all "Ann Lewell's" cables, for example. And there's another guy who falls for Ann Lewell -- and a woman who loves that guy and who befriends "Ann". And there's discord between Garth and Marianne when each learns just a portion of the other's real story ...
Well, it's all really stupid. And it's dreadfully written. And there's no chemistry between the main characters, and ... well, I could go on. The book is what it is -- a bad example of a genre that is indeed much disparaged, but which can be quite enjoyable at its best. However, books like Rainbow's End are the reason the genre is so much disparaged.
(This week I also review the late Ursula K. Le Guin's last novel, Lavinia.)
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
True Journey is Return: Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018)
True Journey is Return: Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018)
Like all of us, I think, I’m stunned and saddened to hear of Ursula Le
Guin’s death. She was one of the greatest writers in the world. A writer central
to my reading from my teens.
I say stunned and the news is stunning, but we must remember that Ursula
Le Guin was 88, and had a remarkably full life, active in the mind until the
end. (It does appear she had been in failing health for some months.) So I hope
this can be seen as more a celebration of a great life – from the only point of
view I can take myself, that of a lover of her writing.
I can still easily call up in my mind the cover of The Dispossessed, in
front of me on the cafeteria table at Naperville Central High School some time
in 1975, as I read it during lunch hour. Malafrena was a gift from a friend – I
read it eagerly, and loved it – it’s a young person’s book, I think, an ardent
book – I understand it was her earliest written novel to see publication, and that
shows, but it is still one of my favorites. And her last novel, Lavinia, from
2008, is also one of my favorites, a beautifully written and moving and
involving story of the wife of Aeneas. I read the Earthsea books in high school
as well, and wrote a term paper on them, despite my teacher’s skepticism about Fantasy.
Her prose was truly elegant, truly lovely. Her speculation was rigorous and
honest and fruitful in itself. Even from the earliest she was striking – the story
“Semley’s Necklace” (the opening segment of Rocannon's World, her first published
novel) is heartbreaking and powerful. And her first story in an SF magazine, “April
in Paris”, is sweet and lovely and romantic … I don’t know how it was received
at the time but to me it must have seemed an announcement: “This is special.
This is a Writer.”
So many of her short stories are special to me … “Winter’s King”, “Nine
Lives”, “The Stars Below”, “Another Story”, “Imaginary Countries”, the
Yeowe/Werel stories, all the fables of Changing Planes. Some 20 years ago an
online discussion group asked what was the greatest single author story
collection in SF (not counting Collected Stories books or Best Of books), and
my choice was then, and remains now, without question, The Wind's Twelve Quarters.
I never met Le Guin. I reprinted one of her stories, “Elementals”, in
the 2013 edition of my Best of the Year book. And I feel particularly fortunate
to have written her towards the middle of 2017, asking her about Cele
Goldsmith. I didn’t expect a response, but she sent one, absolutely helpful and
gracious. I had mentioned I was working on a long piece about Goldsmith – I still
am! – and she said she hoped she would be able to read it. I promised to send
it to her and I feel particularly sad that she will not see it – though the
loss is mine, not hers.
I am an emotional reader at times, and one thing Le Guin could do,
repeatedly, was bring me to tears – tears of awe and wonder, tears of sadness,
tears of love. I leave with some of my favorite quotes:
“Kaph looked at him and saw the thing he had never seen before, saw
him: Owen Pugh, the other, the stranger who held his hand out in the dark.” (I
tear up just typing this.)
“Stars and gatherings of stars, depth below depth without end, the
light.”
“But all this happened a long time ago, nearly forty years ago; I do
not know if it happens now, even in imaginary countries.”
And, of course, as Le Guin’s journey on this Earth has ended, we
remember, from The Dispossessed: “True journey is return”.
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Three Philip K. Dick Award nominees
Three Philip K. Dick Award nominees
The nominees for the Philip K. Dick Award for Best SF Novel
first published in paperback were announced the other day. They are:
The Book of Etta by Meg
Elison (47North)
Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty (Orbit)
After the Flare by Deji Bryce Olukotun (The Unnamed Press)
The Wrong Stars by Tim Pratt (Angry Robot)
Revenger by Alastair Reynolds (Orbit)
Bannerless by Carrie Vaughn (Mariner/Houghton Mifflin Harcourt)
All Systems Red by Martha Wells (Tor.com)
Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty (Orbit)
After the Flare by Deji Bryce Olukotun (The Unnamed Press)
The Wrong Stars by Tim Pratt (Angry Robot)
Revenger by Alastair Reynolds (Orbit)
Bannerless by Carrie Vaughn (Mariner/Houghton Mifflin Harcourt)
All Systems Red by Martha Wells (Tor.com)
I confess I had had heard of neither The Book of Etta nor After
the Flare before this nomination – which is, to be sure, one of the good things
about awards! I had heard of both Six Wakes and Revenger – both look interesting,
in fact – but I haven’t read either of them. I have, however, read the other
three, all of which are good books, so I’ll review them in brief here.
Bannerless, by Carrie Vaughn (Mariner, 978-0-544-94730-6, $14.99, tpb, 275 pages) July 2017
This is the first novel set in Carrie Vaughn’s post-Apocalyptic
sequence. That sequence already includes some excellent short stories (“Amaryllis”,
“Astrophilia”, and “Bannerless” (a sort of beta version of the novel). One did
wonder if she was going to do an alphabetic tour …) Technological civilization
has collapsed, and, decades later, on what seems the California coast, a loose
society has formed, built around essentially green principles, most notably an
insistence on families earning the right to have children. This right is
indicated by banners. So a “bannerless” child invites punishment for the
parents, and often social ostracism for the (obviously blameless) children.
The novel is a mystery in form. The protagonist is Enid, an
investigator, someone who travels among the local towns when something
suspicious occurs. She is new at her job, and when a suspicious death is
reported in Pasadan, her mentor, Tomas, suggests that she lead this
investigation, with Tomas’ support. So, the main thread follows Enid and Tomas
through their investigation, which concerns the death of a man. This man lived
alone, perhaps due to his nature, but perhaps because he was a bannerless child.
There is considerable political pressure to have the death considered an
accident – and indeed, it seems, perhaps it was – but there are curious
elements. And complicating factors – a connection to a prosperous local family,
the general dislike of the victim – and, even, the presence of Enid’s former
lover, Dak. (Not the Dallas Cowboys’ quarterback!)
The second thread begins in Enid’s childhood, and follows
her life up to the novel’s present. This thread allows us to see even more of
the structure of this future society – including the families, which are
extended in nature, and only partly based on genetic ties. We also see some hints
of the time of the collapse – Enid has an “aunt” who is one of the few people
still alive who remember the world before. And we follow Enid’s romance with Dak,
a particularly talented musician (who ends up acting like a certain common
depiction of contemporary rock stars).
It’s very fine work – building an interesting society, and
at least suggesting some flaws in what at first glance seems a near-Utopian
adaptation to post-Collapse conditions. (“Astrophilia”, in particular, is even
better at poking at the complacent beliefs of that society in its virtue. It is
an abiding fault of post-Apocalyptic writings (I’m looking at you, Edgar
Pangborn!) to take a certain glee in the collapse of civilization, allowing its
replacement by the author’s preferred social forms.) The murder mystery is
solved plausibly (if not terrible surprisingly, but that isn’t necessarily a
fault), and its solution also shows stresses in the society’s underpinnings. I
liked the book a lot. A sequel, The Wild
Roads, is due in 2018.
All Systems Red,
by Martha Wells (Tor.com, 978-0765397539, $14.99, tpb, 160 pages) May 2017
I’m going to be a tad coy here, as my capsule review of this
will be in the February Locus. So all
I’ll say here is that I recommend this highly. I think it’s a long novella, by Nebula/Hugo
rules, but perhaps it’s a short novel instead. (Either way, it’s definitely eligible
for the Philip K. Dick Award.) This is great fun, about an android employed as
security for a scientific team investigation an alien planet. The android,
which calls itself murderbot, for reasons tied to its past, really just wants
to watch old television, but it finds itself forced to deal with a real threat
to its clients. Funny, thoughtful about AI rights, and good solid adventure.
Tremendous fun, really. Two further stories in what is being called
collectively The Murderbot Diaries
are due in 2018.
The Wrong Stars,
by Tim Pratt (Angry Robot, 978-0-85766-709-0, $7.99, mmpb, 396 pages) September
2017
This is really cool Space Opera, again lots of fun. As with
most Space Opera, some of the science bits are a whole lot handwavy – and maybe
that’s just fine, because, really, is present day science the be all and end
all of reality? In some ways this reminded me of Becky Chambers’ A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, and
I thought maybe some more stories as well, which makes me think I ought to
examine further and decide if there is now a popular subgenre of Space Opera
concerning the almost soap-operatic interactions of a small varied spaceship crew.
One viewpoint character of The Wrong Stars is Callie, Captain
of a spaceship, the White Raven, that does solo work and also occasionally
works for the Trans-Neptunian Authority, in a future in which humanity has just
stepped back from the brink of species disaster, having nearly ruined the
Earth. Partly or perhaps mostly because of tech bartered from aliens called the
Liars, Earth has been restored to a gardenlike state, and humans have occupied
most of the Solar System. They have also colonized 29 planets, via wormhole bridges
sold them by the Liars.
The other viewpoint character is Elena Oh. She was a
crewmember on a Goldilocks ship – one of a number of starships sent to likely
looking star systems in a Hail Mary attempt to save human civilization before
the Liars appeared. These ships were slower than light, with the crew in suspended
animation. Elena’s ship, the Anjou, has been found by the White Raven in Trans-Neptunian
space, and it has been weirdly altered. Elena is the only person on board. And
her memories are fractured, but they suggest that something very strange occurred
in the system they finally reached … leading to Elena being sent back to the
Solar System alone.
There is immediate sexual attraction between Elena and
Callie (who are both recovering from relationships or crushes with men). This
complicates their future interactions. But things are complicated anyway, with
Callie’s crew consisting of a motley arrangement of folks, including an AI whom
we soon gather is based on the personality of Callie’s ex. Elena’s memories of
what happened on the system her ship had reached are critical as well – they seem
to have encountered aliens unrelated to the Liars. Aliens who seem ready to forcefully
modify the humans they encounter. Elena insists on trying to rescue her fellow
crewmembers. And the tech Callie recovers on Elena’s ships seems gamechanging,
and very scary – especially to the Liars.
The resolution turns on spectacular revelations about the nature
of the Liars, and their true motivations, and about what Elena and her fellow
crewmembers encountered as well. And the resolution is quite satisfying, and
sets up some really interesting subsequent volumes. This will be at least a trilogy,
I believe, with the next volume, The
Dreaming Stars, due in 2018.
In summary, I have to say, I don’t have a strong preference
for a winner of this award. I’d be happy with any of the three books I’ve read
winning, and I trust that the other nominees are similarly good. All I can say
is – do read these books! There are all both fund and intriguing.
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