Showing posts with label creator: john scalzi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creator: john scalzi. Show all posts

28 August 2023

Twenty-First Century Science Fiction

Twenty-First Century Science Fiction
edited by David G. Hartwell and Patrick Nielsen Hayden

This is an anthology of post-2000 sf written by authors who "came to prominence" after 2000. That is to say, they may have published something prior to 2000, but they didn't break through into wider consciousness until after; see for example Charles Stross, whose first publication is all the way back in 1985, but achieved wider acclaim with his 2001 novel The Atrocity Archive. I got the book as a parting gift from my boss back when it came out in 2013, but as is usual for me, did not get around to reading it for another decade. In a way, this was helpful for evaluating the book's "argument."

Collection published: 2013
Contents originally published: 2003-11
Acquired: December 2013
Read: April–June 2023

It's been my thesis that large anthologies (and this one clocks in at 572 pages, with over thirty stories) are arguments. In this case, the argument seems to be: "These writers are the future of science fiction." In that case, reading it ten years late lets me estimate how right the editors got it. Did these talents pan out?

Overall, I have to say yes, but sort of with reservations. There's no denying that, say, Mary Robinette Kowal has gone on to be a juggernaut of twenty-first century science fiction. But enjoy as I might her "Lady Astronaut" books, the story included here ("Evil Robot Monkey") didn't grab me—this isn't the reason. (Though given the story was a Hugo finalist, it must have grabbed other people.) Similarly, some of the stories feel like stretches, in that they're sf tales from writers much better known for publishing fantasy or even horror, like Jo Walton's "Escape to Other Worlds with Science Fiction" or Daryl Gregory's "Second Person, Present Tense"; these were two stories I enjoyed a lot, actually, but I wouldn't put either Walton or Gregory in the pantheon of great twenty-first century sf writers, based on what I've read of them at least.

And of course, there are a couple stories I found outright bad... but they're by writers whose work in general I struggled to enjoy yet I cannot deny that those writers are generally popular. I speak here of John Scalzi's "The Tale of the Wicked," which requires all of its main characters to be idiots, and Catherynne M. Valente's "How to Become a Mars Overlord" which at eight pages still had me skimming to get to the end. So I guess the anthology is right to include them: both works read as fairly typical for their writers even if I did not like them. They are a key part of twenty-first century sf. I just wish they weren't.

But of course there are areas where the editors totally get it right. I always like a bit of Vandana Singh, and her story "Infinities" (one of only three rereads for me in the book) is a typically excellent piece of work. I don't think Rachel Swirsky has ever published a novel, but her story "Eros, Philia, Agape" is astounding, a masterful tale of what might it mean for an android to love, and she's an acclaimed writer of short science fiction and fantasy, with two Nebula wins and a number of Hugo and Nebula finalists. Madeleine Ashby is someone I haven't read much of, but I really enjoyed her story "The Education of Junior Number 12" here (another story of androids in love, actually, but very different from the Swirsky) and everything else I have read by her I have enjoyed; she's an incisive writer on the cutting edge of current technology, and now I want to seek our her related novel, vN. Ken Liu is an acclaimed writer of short sf, and though I've personally found his stuff hit or miss, "The Algorithm of Love" is probably the best thing I've read by him, a dark meditation on the implications AI might have for human consciousness.

"A Vector Alphabet of Interstellar Travel" is a pretty typical piece by Yoon Ha Lee: told in the form of a series of encyclopedia entries, so purely exposition, it nonetheless manages to say interesting things about how societies interact, especially with a really strong last line, and it's no wonder he went on to do acclaimed work like Machineries of Empire. Peter Watts is a highly acclaimed writer of hard sf about consciousness, and his story "The Island" here is great on many levels, examining how people think, how machines think, and how something we don't even understand thinks, and how different that might or might not be; dark but highly effective. There's a Cory Doctorow story here, too: "Chicken Little," about a lot of stuff, including immortality, marketing, and rational calculations of risk. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a Doctorow story before, but I thought this was great. So you have a lot of great stuff here by acclaimed writers.

Beyond that, though, you have great stuff from writers I actually had never heard of... but if Hartwell and Nielsen Hayden are making an argument, it's that I should have heard of them, and so I'm prepared to accept that it's not the anthology that's at fault but the universe—or, perhaps, me. I'd never heard of David Moles, but I loved his story "Finisterra" about a gas giant with an Earth-like atmosphere where people build communities on the backs of giant floating life-forms. Similarly, I didn't know Karl Schroeder but found his "To Hie from Far Cilenia" very intriguing, a story about digital communities overlapping with the physical world that we might not even notice unless we learn how to see differently. "The Prophet of Flores" by Ted Kosmatka was fascinating, set in a world where the Earth really was created in 4,000 B.C. but otherwise science is the same, and exploring what implications the discovery of the so-called hobbits of Flores would have. It was expanded into a novel, which I'll have to seek out. These people ought to be the face of twenty-first century sf if they're not.

It's not all great, of course; I've mentioned a couple I didn't like already, and there were some more that I bounced off of, including Stross's "Rogue Farm" (too clever for me, maybe), Marissa Lingen's "The Calculus Plague" (some improbably bad research ethics; where's the IRB?), Paul Cornell's "One of Our Bastards Is Missing" (I love Cornell but have never gotten much out of his Hamilton shorts), Oliver Morton's "The Albian Message" (less a story, more a thought experiment), and Alaya Dawn Johnson's "Third Day Lights" (I just could not be bothered to work out what was actually happening). But most of what was left was usually good, if not great, or among the best short stories I've read in the past year.

One story is a bit tragic: Kage Baker's "Plotters and Shooters" was good fun, a take on Ender's Game where the protagonists are all thirty-year-olds who are stuck in their mothers' basements. But Kage Baker can't be the future of sf, because she unfortunately died at the age of 57 in 2010. It reminded me I really must get around to finishing her Company series, though.

There's a lot of great stuff here; I think this probably has one of the best hit rates for an anthology I've read outside of something like The Science Fiction Hall of Fame volumes. Perhaps the real argument here is that "Twenty-first century science fiction is in rude health." If that's the case, then the editors have assembled evidence that demonstrates their conclusions thirty times over.

20 June 2018

Hugos 2018: The Collapsing Empire by John Scalzi

Trade paperback, 333 pages
Published 2017

Acquired April 2018
Read May 2018
The Collapsing Empire by John Scalzi

This is the second John Scalzi novel I've read after Redshirts, and if anything, it's somehow even worse. The main problem with The Collapsing Empire is that the main characters are all the same: relentless quippers. It's like reading the script for a Joss Whedon show, except even Joss Whedon knows you have to have real human emotion sometime to balance it out. I read a review of the book that claimed, "Scalzi’s characters have always been great—funny, dynamic, and easy to identify with—but over the years he’s improved in the way he frames and builds each individual personality. Cardenia, Marce, and Kiva all come from drastically different origins, and their reactions to the future are specific to their own perspective." Admittedly this review was on the blog of the publisher so of course it's a little slanted, but I found it inexplicable because all of these characters sounded exactly the same. They all quip and banter their way through every situation. The complete lack of earnest emotional response grew wearying, exacerbated by the fact that even the narrator gets in on the quipping! Like, if the narrator can't react like these things matter, why should I?

It also doesn't help that there seems to be a direct correlation between quippiness and moral worth. All the good characters are great at quipping; all the evil characters are humorless planks. It's way too obvious and too simple, like the Interdependency is not actually a monarchy or a theocracy, but a quiptocracy, where the most sarcastic person is placed in charge. And one of the characters in particular irritated me, Cardenia, whose sexual antics I found squicky in that her pressuring other people, including subordinates, into sex is presented in a ha-ha-she's-so-empowered-isn't-it-funny light.

Outside of the characters, there's just not much to this novel. The political set-up feels derivative of Dune and not particularly interestingly so: an interstellar empire where "guilds" and "houses" play significant roles. (I know Dune didn't originate this, but Collapsing Empire doesn't do anything unique with it except in superficial ways.) The main plot of the series is contrived. The "Flow" is the alternate dimension ships can move into to travel faster-than-light, a lot like the depiction of hyperspace in things like Babylon 5, but it's collapsing, meaning the end of the Interdependency. But somehow in a vast interstellar empire predicated on the existence of the Flow, there are literally two scientists who study it? And it seems kind of silly that the one who's predicted it's going to collapse figures this out about a week before it begins to happen. Like, what's the point? (Scalzi also seems to think that peer review is another person checking your sums.) The book does have the occasional surprising moment, but on the whole it moves in pretty predictable directions.

26 June 2017

Review: Redshirts by John Scalzi

Trade paperback, 317 pages
Published 2013 (originally 2012)

Acquired December 2015
Read September 2016
Redshirts by John Scalzi

This book has some great concepts. I mean, the fundamental metafictional premise doesn't feel terribly new to me, but Scalzi puts some interesting spins on it: there are permutations of the basic ideas that I had not seen before, and Scalzi clearly had fun with exploring the logic of the underlying ideas. That was what I really enjoyed, and I even laughed a couple times.

But the characters aren't really characters. They're just flat interchangeable cutouts who speak entirely in quips, like they've just walked off the set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or a Marvel superhero film. As a result, it's impossible to become emotionally attached to any of them. It's like Scalzi wrote the book as a film script, not a novel, assuming actors would give the characters the distinct personalities they lack on the page. It's especially egregious because there's supposed to be a contrast between the ways the characters act normally and how they act under the control of the Narrative, but they're so generically written normally, the contrast only exists because some characters say it exists. It makes the whole book a somewhat dull read.

Also: I'm not sure Scalzi actually knows what the word "extra" means.