SF is as SF does

 kw: book reviews, science fiction, speculative fiction, fantasy, short stories, collections

I use the term "SF" in the title rather than "SciFi" because Lake of Souls: The Collected Short Fiction by Ann Leckie includes three categories: science fiction, speculative fiction, and fantasy.

The opening novelette and title story, "Lake of Souls" sits on the boundary between science fiction and fantasy, as does Ms Leckie. The story is a bildungsroman, a coming-of-age story, of a crablike creature without a name, who embarks on a quest to find the fabled Lake of Souls, where it may obtain a soul and a name. Until obtaining soul and name, these creatures are called by the generic term Spawn.  This Spawn's quest differs from the usual process, where marks that appear on a being's head upon one's final molt can be read as a name. I don't use "he" or "she" for Spawn because the author studiously avoids genderizing it. The science fiction element enters with a human on the planet, the last survivor of a mass murder on his survey ship. He is on a quest of his own, to find the murderer and the communication device he brought to the planet with him. He and his shipmates had been calling Spawn's fellows "lobster dogs", and having met Spawn, he realizes that these beings are sentient, which he must communicate with "home base", and with others because of the political implications of his discovery. I'll leave it at that; I am perilously close to spoiling too much. I should mention in passing that the author is very skilled at imagining and portraying sundry sorts of non-Earthly beings.

Consider a feudal society, right here on Earth. The lords and ladies lived in splendor in their castles and manor houses, cared for by servants and surrounded by serfs who lived in penury and often misery. Aristocrats lived much longer than serfs, and soldiers typically had notoriously short lives because of the aristocratic hobby of warfare. Move that scenario to a planet on which the aristocrats are called the Justified, and live unlimited lives, though they can die, but never of "natural causes". Everyone else, the short-lived, serve the Justified. I should also mention that they are lionlike, and the Justified become many times stronger than the short-lived. This scenario plays out in "The Justified". An episode in mid-story indicates that short-lived can be promoted to Justified. This has implications for a future situation, back here on Earth again, if aging is defeated but that indefinite life extension is too costly for most to afford. In this and in nearly all of Ms Leckie's stories females are dominant.

These stories are from the first third of the book, where we find all the stories one could term "science fiction". The other two sections are taken from the author's world-building series, termed Imperial Reach and The Raven Tower. Both are based on pantheism: people interact with gods of many "sizes", some that are like feudal lords over a domain, and others that have more narrow realms of influence. Like the Justified discussed above, these gods aren't necessarily eternal, but how a god is done away with isn't made clear. They gain strength from being prayed to and sacrificed to, and the most common sacrifice is an ounce or so of one's own blood, spilled on a makeshift altar.

From all of this I conclude that the author is fascinated (obsessed?) with feudalism, with highly structured societies, and with extreme feminism. Also that she would like to be a god. Then again, who wouldn't?

Women embracing monsterism

 kw: book reviews, speculative fiction, fantasy, anthologies, women, stereotypes

What would you call a woman who stands up for herself? We'd like to think, "hero" (or heroine), "victor", "winner". Isn't is much more likely that she'd be called "harpy", "bitch", "virago", "termagant"…depending on one's vocabulary? Rarely a word with a positive sense.

Virago Press began fifty years ago, but I only just learned of their existence. The volume in hand just now is Furies: Stories of the Wicked, Wild, and Untamed, introduced (edited?) by Sandi Toksvig. I find it curious that the subtitle of the book includes the word "wicked". Really? "Wild" and "untamed", great. I'd have preferred those latter two words to be paired with "dynamic" or "intense", or both. Particularly because, while a number of the characters can indeed be wicked, that's not the point.

A virago is an assertive woman. The word initially had a neutral connotation, but it's used negatively (if at all) these days. Depending upon the dictionary one uses, definitions of "virago" can be quite positive: "A strong, courageous woman"; "A female warrior". But it goes downhill rapidly. The opening sentence of the Wikipedia article on the subject is quite condescending: "A virago is a woman who demonstrates abundant masculine virtues."

The opening chapter, "Siren" by Margaret Atwood, consists of an address by that most musical of mavericks to various creatures assembled as the Liminal Beings Knitting Circle. It is at once hilarious and searching. The fourteen chapters that follow are primarily riffs on fourteen culturally negative words for a strong, or untameable, woman: Virago, Churail (from Pakistan), Termagant, Wench, Hussy, Vituperator, Harridan, Warrior, She-Devil, Muckraker, Spitfire, Fury, Tygress, and Dragon.

I'll make only the briefest of comments on a few of them, to avoid spoilers.

First, as a student of the Bible I am very familiar with the story of Deborah, the judge of Israel and prophet, from Judges 4 and 5. "Warrior" by Chubundu Onuzo elaborates on the Biblical account to show how Deborah arose to save Israel when all the male rulers had failed. In the Song of Deborah, the major part of Judges 5, she mocks them thus:

The rulers ceased in Israel, they ceased,
Until that I Deborah arose,
That I arose a mother in Israel.

By the way, the term "the Mother of Israel" is used a few times in the chapter. The quote from Deborah's song is the accurate rendition. She is saying she acted as any mother would to protect her children, and as Jael did in her turn, when she lured the Canaanite leader into her tent and assassinated him with a tent peg and a hammer.

Secondly, "Tygress" by Claire Konda expands a little on the theme "tiger mother". I'm familiar with the concept, from frequent contact with our many Chinese, Japanese and Korean friends. Twin girls that were our son's friends once told him and me that their mother was not satisfied with them receiving all "A" grades. They had to be at the absolute top of the class. My wife remembers her Japanese childhood, taking extra courses after school at a private tutoring organization. Not because her mother had pretensions of her daughter attaining to a higher class, but just because that was expected even at second-class schools.

And finally, the one story I didn't care for was "She-Devil" by Eleanor Crewes. It's in graphic novel style, much too enigmatic. It tries for Gothic horror and instead achieves banal dread. No question is answered, no conclusion reached.

Each story, with that one exception, brings a fresh take on an old word. An excellent collection.

Foreseeing a new Earth

 kw: book reviews, speculative fiction, climate change, geoengineering, sociology

Finally! Something on which former President Barack Obama and I agree!! He likes the book, and I like the book: The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson. I suspect if we were to sit down over a cuppa and talk about it, the President and I would find that our reasons for liking it differ substantially. Oh, well.

The climate is changing, that we can nearly all agree on, because that is what the climate does; it is how climate is defined. What is driving the change, hardly anybody agrees on (the so-called "scientific consensus" covers enormous in-fighting in the "climate science" crowd). At present, rising carbon dioxide is the favored culprit. In my view, carbon dioxide is significant, but not decisive.

It must be noted that the temperature swing of around 5°C between the Medieval Climate Warming of around 1,000 years ago (~950AD to ~1250AD in Europe and North America), and the Little Ice Age that began about 200 years later (~1450AD to ~1850AD) occurred during a time of utterly stable carbon dioxide concentration in the atmosphere. Furthermore, the Maunder Minimum, a period of exceedingly low sunspot activity, occurred from about 1645AD to 1715AD, right in the middle of that cool-down. The 22-year sunspot cycle, plus poorly known longer-term cycles in the Sun, together with the three longer-term orbital-mechanics Milankovitch cycles, are the primary external climate drivers.

The premise of MftF (an abbreviation used in the book) is that rising carbon dioxide concentration is the only relevant driving force of post-Industrial Revolution climate warming. Let's grant the author that for the nonce and see where it leads, because the book is full of fascinating ideas, some of which may prove useful.

The book opens with a hot weather disaster in India in which 20 million die. The government of India responds by unilaterally carrying out a bit of geoengineering: at great cost, they have thousands of airplanes release sulfate aerosols into the stratosphere in what is later called a "double Pinatubo". It works for a while, cooling India and the northern hemisphere for several years. Several chapters describe the futile politicking that goes on around this event. In the midst of it all, a new agency of the UN is formed, the Ministry for the Future. Its leader, Mary Murphy, and her staff, are central figures in the rest of the book. Its bailiwick is to act on behalf of future generations, and indirectly, for the nonhuman species being driven by the hundreds into extinction by human economic activities.

The book covers about a 25-year span, from 2-3 years from now (call it 2026) until the late 2040's. One thing author Robinson likes is lists. Numerous chapters contain lists: Chapter 85 mostly consists of the names of greening and restoration projects in many countries from Argentina to Zimbabwe (and most of them are real already), taking up 4 pages; sundry lists of possible geoengineering projects including Chapter 71 which focuses on putting yellow dye in the Arctic Ocean to keep it from warming by absorbing sunlight; in Chapter 30 the author ruminates on what to call the turning point (the Great Turn, the Trembling 20's...) and devotes a page to a list of lists, of the various ways the past has been divided into a list of periods; Chapter 20 discusses several (numerous) alternatives to GDP as a measure of prosperity.

Where Robinson really shines is the ability to write in numerous voices. While many of the chapters are third-person narrative, more are first-person soliloquy in the voices of key characters and others including unidentified refugees—several thereof—which instantly forge emotional bonds with readers, bringing us into the story. Some of the soliloquys are personified objects: the Market, the Blockchain, a Photon, a Carbon atom, and a puzzle that, I think, refers to the total number of base pairs in the DNA of an entire person (Chapter 95; the key is the words "sextillions" and "spiral").

I take issue with the soliloquy of a Carbon atom: it claims it was forged in a supernova. Carbon is formed in main-sequence stars during the red giant phase of helium burning. Thereafter, there are two scenarios that produce most supernovae. One is the Type Ia, in which a white dwarf star, which consists mostly of carbon and oxygen (the ratio depends on the mass of the original star), orbits with a companion star that has yet to become a red giant. When the companion swells into a red giant, much of its material is swept onto the white dwarf, increasing its mass until it reaches the Chandrasekhar limit of mass, upon which it explodes, ejecting much of its mass while the core becomes a neutron star. During the explosion, elements of all masses are formed, but very little of that is likely to be carbon because the already-existing carbon is instead forged into silicon and other heavier elements. The other is Type II, in which a very heavy star burns beyond carbon and oxygen, through silicon and the transition metals until it has an iron core; once the core cannot be further "burned", the star implodes and rebounds, forging elements of all masses, primarily heavier ones. It's where gold comes from, for example. Thus, Chapter 66 should state that the carbon atom in question was formed in the core of a red giant until it was left behind in the substance of a white dwarf, but then later ejected in a Type Ia supernova. Perhaps it escaped during the ejection of the red giant's atmosphere, but that would have contained little carbon.

My favorite of the geoengineering methods is one told part by part through several chapters: drilling through the Antarctic icecap to pump water from beneath the ice up onto flat places and internal basins, where it freezes. This is to remove the lubrication from Antarctic glaciers and re-ground them to slow their movement. In the book it works, and I think it really would work.

A current running through the book involves terroristic activities by "the Children of Kali". It is not clear whether all the events that seem to emanate from them are really theirs, because a "black wing" of the Ministry for the Future, led by a fellow named Badim, probably also carried out targeted assassinations. This is implied but kept out of sight.

Robinson likes happy endings, so (mild spoiler alert) the book ends with carbon dioxide levels being reduced as great numbers of mitigation efforts take effect. Global population is also decreasing by 2050. I had to keep in mind that, from the disaster of the mid-2020's onward, this book is a world-building exercise. Many of the things therein are possible, some quite unlikely, but the positive polemical point of the book is clear: if we are to make an effective change in the trajectory of the climate, numerous efforts of many kinds will be needed. There is no silver bullet. 

I was unhappy with a near-absence of nuclear energy. It comes up only in Chapter 76, when a Navy officer discusses these facts: 83 nuclear powered ships and subs, over 5,700 reactor-years, and 134 million miles of travel, with nary a nuclear accident. "Probably the Navy should run the country's electricity system." Personally, I've been in favor of that for a long time. Electricity would cost more than it does now, because the Navy places more of a priority on safety, compared to the folks who ran Three Mile Island or Chernobyl. I am in favor of using breeder reactors to turn U238 into Plutonium even as the U235 is being used to make energy; I favor recycling radioactive waste to extract even more fuel and reprocess it. This would be an energy source that would more than bridge the gap between the largely carbon-based system we have now and a non-carbon, non-nuclear future system, with nuclear waiting in the wings if needed. I hope for a world in which hydrocarbon and coal are being deposited faster than we use them (for chemicals, not for fuel).

Robinson's message is clear. In this possible future Earth, whether we make it more livable, or less, is up to us. I agree.

Worlds of warning

 kw: book reviews, science fiction, anthologies, speculative fiction

Continuing my review of the trilogy Terraform: Watch | Worlds | Burn, edited by Brian Merchant and Claire Evans, the section Worlds contains 18 stories, including one graphic story with minimal words ("Reach" by Mattie Lubchansky). All, very broadly speaking, present a "world of warning". 

Rather than world-building of the sort employed by Jerry Pournelle and Jerry Niven in the Ringworld series, or Isaac Asimov in the Robot/Foundation series, these stories present nearly one-dimensional worlds (with mostly 2D characters) as a fait accompli in which we get to imagine ourselves. Of course, the point is to induce repugnance because the aim of the series is to motivate people to avert the societal and technological trends that might lead to these extremes.

"Drones to Ploughshares" by Sara Gailey, for example, has a mid-level autonomous drone as the PoV character, tasked with finding and eradicating deviations from the corporately-mandated norms of agricultural practice. It is an Echo model, and from the designations of other drones and robots, has greater autonomy and greater powers, and apparently greater "intelligence", than models Alpha through Delta, but less so than a Foxtrot model. The designations are from the phonetic alphabet used by military radio operators; Ham radio operators use it also (In the 1950's the list began with Able, Baker and Charlie). This story, unlike most in the volume, is hopeful. The illustration is loosely based on my recall of the story, without the ag background. 

It has long been a trope of science fiction, also of polemic fiction (these stories are both), to single out a "what if" and drive it into the ground. 

Robots feature in most of the stories. They represent our existential fears of AI takeover, exacerbated by recent over-hyped developments being called AI, including the DALL-E software I used to make these illustrations*. Even more fears are evoked by stories like "Plantation | Springtime", which seems to be loosely based on the Borg of Star Trek fame, except prisoners are those being altered.

The stories are well written and enjoyable to read, while also evoking uncomfortable responses. That makes them particularly effective, though I am not sure how motivational they will be.

*To me, DALL-E and other "AI Art" engines are, at best "hired painters" for people like me who can't draw. Just as photography didn't eliminate artists but actually increased their market reach, so will generative-software artwork.

A collection of very mixed value

kw: book reviews, science fiction, speculative fiction, fantasy, science fantasy, anthologies, collections

Long gone are the days I could pick up a book of short Sci-Fi stories, or an issue of Analog or The Magazine of F&SF, and read from cover to cover with few or no pangs of conscience. I don't mind the discomfort of learning, nor that of attaining a new viewpoint, as long as I gain something of value. But I don't like taking in something that drags me down and is hard to be rid of.

In SF genres, I prefer short stories to novels. Starting in about 1980, during a period in which I read very little SF, Tor began publishing in the genre and became a leader in the field. But now that sword-and-sorcery fantasies have come to dominate the genre, even being placed in space settings and alien planets, I read a lot less than I did before. Tor seemed to have a pretty good lineup of the "sword free" stories I prefer. Unbeknownst to me until this past week, Tor has an online imprint, Tor.com, that publishes shorter pieces, up to novella in length.

Tor.com is almost eleven years old, and to mark their first decade in business they gathered 40 stories into a hardcover book, Worlds Seen in Passing: 10 Years of Tor.com Short Fiction. I began to read with great anticipation, and when the first two stories ("Six Months, Three Days" by Charles Jane Anders and "Damage" by David D. Leving) earned my personal "Glad I Read That" distinction, my anticipation increased. Then, "Thud, Bam!", I read the next two ("The Best We Can" by Carrie Vaughn and "The City, Born Great" by N.K. Jemisin). The first was so-so at best, and the second made me cringe, not in any good way; it earned "Sorry I Read Any of That" distinction by 1/3 the way through, and I didn't complete it. A few stories later I came across my first "Didn't Read Any" ("Elephants and Corpses" by Kameron Hurley). The editors of Worlds Seen were kind enough to put a brief summary ahead of each story, which helped me select the ones to not even try. Scores for the 40 stories:

1. "Glad": 10
2. "So-So": 10
3. "Sorry", didn't read much of it: 7
4. "D.R.", didn't read any of it, or no more than a paragraph or two: 13

For someone who loves good SF, that is a sad commentary. Why do I dislike certain stories? First and most important, they offer to take me somewhere I don't want to go, and put something in me I wish I hadn't imbibed. I try to catch these as early as possible, and the summaries helped. Secondly, in others the main character(s) go nowhere, learn nothing, and leave a reader feeling at best like the time to read was just wasted. I look at such stories as fodder for the feckless Millennials of the stereotype (and I thank God that, among the Millennials I know, few are truly so directionless and void of aspiration). Thirdly, some stories are just plain evil.

Well, then, what do I like in SF? Firstly, the characters either dwell in a world I'd like to inhabit, or are effectively working toward constructing one. Secondly, the characters (and by extension, the authors) are capable of constructive thought and able to learn, unthreatened by the abilities of others. Coda: In a longer story, characters may not begin that way, but grow into it. That also makes me happy. Thirdly, if malice or evil makes an appearance, it is thwarted; neither is it over-dwelt upon.

I suspect the Tor.com editors thought all these stories were just peachy. Each story had its own editor, but I didn't count how many editors participated in the volume. It's a sure bet that no more than a fourth of them are people I'd be willing to count as friends.

As usual, the aliens is us

kw: book reviews, science fiction, space aliens, speculative fiction, short stories, collections, essays

I note upon looking back through my records that I have previously read only two books by David Brin. I reckon it is time to remedy that. His recent book Insistence of Vision gathers stories and a couple of excerpts from throughout his writing career, together with brief story notes and two essays on the craft of fiction writing and his views on its value (positive, naturally, but the key is why it is valuable). The first essay is titled "The Heresy of Science Fiction" and the second, "Waging War With Reality".

One core idea from the first essay is worth abstracting: The message underlying much speculative fiction is one of two moods, either "give up and give in" or "try harder and push forward". Brin is of the latter persuasion, concluding, "…we are the rebels. We who think change might (possibly) bring good." The following 21 stories (including a novelette) and the closing essay illustrate his optimism.

Even in a rather dark story such as the title one, "Insistence of Vision", in which the punishment for certain crimes is blinding (apparently reversible) of the natural eyes, and forcible reliance on virtual reality jacked right into the brain, which is not operative in certain "free zones"; in such a story the actual message is that sanctions more humane than those now practiced might be possible, and even effective.

Here is a basic formula: Discern a trend in society, technology, fashion, or whatever, and extrapolate it to a logical conclusion…or an illogical one! It seems simple enough, and one might think it would lead to one-dimensional fiction. Most certainly it can. But the dimensions available are as numerous as human personal variation allows, and the possibilities are endless. That is just one tool of speculative fiction. Consider a visit by Martians or some similar aliens who out-Spock Mr. Spock. Emotionless, logical to a severe extreme, and they have a grievance against certain persons here on Earth (One thinks of a space probes crash-landing and injuring someone powerful. Kind of like Dorothy and her Kansas house, dropped on the Wicked Witch of the East). How might those beings take vengeance? "Mars Opposition" provides one possible scenario. The plot twist upon the narrator is a "Brin Special", the kind of eye-opening surprise he is noted for.

What makes David Brin special is the believableness of his space aliens. That rests in the glimmer of familiarity. No matter how alien, you find yourself thinking, "I know someone like that" or "that's what I'd do!".

Looking the stories over, I find I must either summarize them all or stop here. I'd better leave more room for a reader's delight. Get this book, and do restrain yourself, so that it lasts more than a single sitting!

Superscience

kw: book reviews, speculative fiction, science

Superman has been cool for all my life, and a few years ago he finally got a stamp. Now there's a book that outlines the scientific basis for his startling abilities. Mark Wolverton, a science writer, and Roger Stern, a comics writer, have joined forces to produce The Science of Superman: The Official Guide to the Science of the Last Son of Krypton.

How different from Earth people does a humanoid alien such as Kal-El need to be, to be able to fly, to see through walls, to bend steel beams, to lift a locomotive, and to hear a cry for help from miles away? As it turns out, quite a lot. The authors' job is to show that it is not totally impossible.

That's a tall order. That is why this book isn't found in the 500 section (Dewey Decimal for Science) of the library, but on the SF shelves. Tongues firmly in cheek, so firmly as to threaten their teeth, the authors have dived into the murky waters of hand-waving science of the highest order. We all want to believe in Superman. They want to help us do so…

A few of the things Superman needs to fulfill the DC Comics menu of his powers:

• A thicker skin, probably fortified with titanium or other strengthening materials, so he is (more) invulnerable.
• Hearing at least as sensitive as that of a barn owl, which can hear a mouse's heartbeat from thirty feet away.
• A special organ that lets him manipulate gravity, which underlies his flying ability and feats of strength that would crush even a 300-pound steel manikin.
• Tunable vision from far infrared to far ultraviolet, and lots of extra brain power for processing what he sees into the misnamed "x-ray vision".

There are a number of others, but each of these requires quite a stretch beyond known science. For example, tunable vision: Some humans can see a little ways into the infrared spectrum. The problem is the low energy of IR photons. It is hard to contrive a molecule that can catch an IR photon and turn it into a nerve impulse. 40 years ago I participated on a project to make a TV camera that could "see" at much longer wavelengths, of around two microns. It utilized cesium chloride, which is hard to come by and is unstable except in a vacuum.

Then there's far UV. Take the yellow lens out of the eye, and any cataract patient will tell you they see more blue, and farther into the UV, such that mercury vapor lights are almost blinding, and they can see the UV that leaks from fluorescent lights directly. Much deeper into the UV, though, the radiation gets damaging (which is why we wear sunscreen). Even a super being would be hard pressed to avoid eye damage trying to look at enough soft x-rays to form a visible image. Human eyes can detect x-rays, but are soon destroyed by that amount of radiation. And a more important point: x-rays are notoriously hard to focus. The most effective "lens" for x-rays is a piece of aluminum a few inches thick with a lot of holes drilled crosswise in a precise way.

As for Superman being able to project x-rays or heat rays from his eyes, the authors have to reject that in favor of more hand-waving about "biometric fields." Don't get me wrong, hand-waving isn't all bad. Nobelist Dick Feynman was a hand-waver extraordinaire; it is a great way to convey concepts without getting into time-consuming technical details. But the technical details have to exist! That's why this is speculative fiction, very enjoyable speculative fiction.

The authors' closing paragraphs dwell on Kal-El's moral fiber. He had to have an amazing level of ethical understanding; how else could he avoid selfishly dominating the rest of humanity? Perhaps Superman's morality is his most amazing superpower.

...but I wouldn't want to live there.

kw: book reviews, anthologies, speculative fiction

My experience reading Michael Moorcock is variable. Some I like, some I don't, and some I don't understand. He edited the sf periodical New Worlds in the 1960s and 1970s. I read a 2004 reprint of New Worlds: an Anthology, originally printed in 1983. I have a firmer view now. I don't like the kind of fiction he likes, with very rare exceptions. I do like about half of the nonfiction (criticism, and interview, and review articles) he reprinted here.

Of thirty items in the anthology, twenty are fiction. Only two resemble (distantly) what I'd call science fiction. A few are fantasy, one or two are speculative fiction, and the rest either fantasy or unclassifiable. It is clear that Moorcock is proudest of the unclassifiable genre. He likes J.G. Ballard and Brian W. Aldiss, but only at their zaniest (though J.G.'s least zany is clearly ahead of anyone else's most zany).

The trouble is, many of the stories come from "the sixties", actually 1967-1975, when I quit reading sf entirely. At least half the "sixties" stories were extended wet dreams. This collection reinforced that view. I had to simply skip out after a few paragraphs on many of these. Many of the rest are varieties of pointless existentialism: obsession with detail, little or nothing that would reveal if any of the characters is actually conscious, and an ending that simply ends without conclusion. Most of my generation outgrew Camus and his "suicide is the best policy" ethic about the time President Carter invented the "miserability index".

New Worlds does try to present new worlds, all right. But I'd rather not live in any of them. There was a little to like, an interview with Tolkein that I enjoyed, a reprinting of "Traveler's Rest", which actually has a good idea—and which I'd read before with enjoyment—, and plenty that made me say, "Over all, I'm rather glad I skipped '60s sf."

Three apocalypses

kw: book reviews, speculative fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction

It took me a while to warm up to Michael Cunningham's writing. His new book Specimen Days is really three related novellas. One takes place about 1900, one about 2020, one about 2150. Each has as its main characters a woman (broadly speaking), a youngish man (sort of...), and a pre-teen boy. The woman's name in each case is a variant of Catherine. The man's is Simon, though in 21-whatever, he is more of an android. The boy's name varies. The novellas are titled "In the Machine," "The Children's Crusade," and "Like Beauty." The stories are linked also by being in, or beginning in, New York City, and by the presence of a rare ceramic bowl.

In the first, Simon is unfaithful, but dies before marrying the woman. The boy, his brother, carries on his job, finds himself hexed by Simon's voice in a stamping machine, and is himself injured by the machine. The woman's life is saved as a result, for when she leaves her workplace to tend to the boy, she isn't present when the Triangle Shirtwaist Company Fire of 1911 takes the lives of 147 seamstresses.

The woman is a forensic pathologist in the second, and Simon her lover. She works a police terrorist hotline (I suspect the job hardly exists at present), taking calls from those who wish to report mayhem before the fact. Two boys in succession call in, then go out to blow someone up. A third boy targets her. Though she talks him out of his pipe bomb, the life she knew ends, nonetheless, though in this case it could be a beginning.

Nobody is really "human" in "Like Beauty". Simon is an android. The woman is an alien refugee, a lizard-shaped mammal from a nearby stellar system. The boy, who appears halfway through, is a precocious survivor who leads them to their destiny with the man who created Simon. This Simon is faithful to the woman, though he finds she is a century older than he.

Cutting away the fluff, they are the same post-apocalyptic story. The Industrial Revolution was an apocalypse for rural families, though it took a few generations to work itself out. The near- and farther-future stories occur during drawn-out apocalypses of their own.

I confess I did not read all of "In the Machine." It is rougher, edgier, with a bit more vulgarity (we're talking more than dirty language here) than I care for. This is ugliness with a purpose, however, just as the ugliness in the political novels of Upton Sinclair and John Steinbeck were purposeful: the generation needed a thump in the head. So does ours. We are either active agents, or specimens...

Andre Norton (1912-2005)

kw: book reviews, science fiction, speculative fiction, novels

Last week I read Echoes in Time, the sixth of seven "Time Traders" novels by Andre Norton—this one co-written with Sherwood Smith. Then today, while looking up the Andre Norton Bibliography website, I found this notice of her recent passing: Andre Norton (1912-2005) - SFWA News. She passed away May 17, 2005, age 93.

The seven Time Traders titles were written from 1950 to 2002. She knew how to return freshness to earlier ideas. Echoes in Time was released in 1999. I like Norton's handling of time travel, that one cannot self-loop. Rather, after spending a week in the past, one must return a week later than one's departure. This, and confining the story line to time trips over centuries rather than shorter intervals, avoids the paradoxes that many authors either fall afoul of, or must resort to a lot of "I had to do that, because it was already done in the future" to gloss over (Harry Potter's saving himself from Dementors via a time loop is a case in point).

The machinery that accomplishes time travel, and the spaceships, are products of alien technology, ultimately stolen from them. The notion that these "aliens" may be human descendants is brought up, and not quite solved in the novel. The short war between these (possible) aliens and others, including humans, is also shown to be a perfectly understandable response on the part of the owners of the technology to their theft.

Other ramifications, including the gene-twisting entity that makes other questions moot, I'll leave you to read for yourself.