Book Review

  • Hyperspace, Michio Kaku

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Oxford, 1994, 359 pages, C$30.00 hc, ISBN 0-19-508514-0

    Long-time readers of these reviews have undoubtedly noticed that I don’t give formal ratings to books. No stars, no percentiles, no “X out of Y”, nothing. The reason is simple; in my mind, formal ratings are a shortcut, and shortcuts are damnably simple. Sure, so you can glance at the rating a decide in half a second if I liked the book or not. On the other hand, you can glance at the rating and not read the review. Or e-mail me endlessly because I gave the same rating to both THE DISPOSSESSED and SEX-HUNGRY MATHEMATICIANS and you feel that’s a personal insult to you, LeGuin and non-sex-hungry mathematicians around the world.

    (What’s the link with Hyperspace? Stay with me.)

    In brief; I don’t do perfect ratings in these reviews. Privately, I do keep some sort of rating for trivial purposes (It facilitates sorting for “the best/worst SF/mystery book written in 19XX?”) but rarely do I give anything over a 90%: The perfect 100 should be reserved for something like The Bible (If I believed in it, or if it stopped a bullet fired at me), or a book so mind-blowing that it would do nothing less that completely change my outlook on life and (preferably) make me a measurably better person.

    Hyperspace doesn’t get the 100, but for the first hundred pages, it looked like it might get a 95. Written by a honest-to-goodness scientist, Hyperspace has the ambitious goal of bringing the reader up to date on the state of theoretical physics. Michio Kaku has the distinction of having made some important advances in this domain in addition of being an exceptional science vulgariser. With Hyperspace he has produced something as good as James Gliek’s Chaos, my scientific-nonfiction-yardstick.

    Briefly put, Kaku takes the reader through the entire history of theoretical physics, from the Greeks to today. The point he makes repeatedly is that the laws of physics are far simpler that we think, if we can conceive of them as being manifestations, “echoes” of higher-dimensions phenomenons. Much like shadows on a plan, the laws of the universe could be shadows of hyperspace. It sound crazy, almost SF, but Kaku makes it utterly convincing. And that’s one of the lesser revelations.

    You will have to possess some solid physics to understand some of what Kaku says. I’ve got three semesters of college-level physics, and I was lost on a few of the most technical pages. But the level of vulgarization is still impressive: Even a relatively smart high-school student could grasp what’s being said without being too overwhelmed too long. A large dose of the hardest-SF out these also helps, perhaps too much: The last chapters of the book are extrapolations on known facts, but they’re going to appear commonplace to SF readers used to Ringworlds, Time-corps and galactic wars.

    But the first half of the book is definitely not pedestrian. Michio shows why Einstein’s work was so important. He talks about string theory, a piece of twenty-first century physics “nobody’s smart enough to understand now.” He chronicles the fascinating lives of some of the smartest people ever. He explains the link between maths and science.

    But most of all, he makes a testament to the importance, the excitement and the achievements of Science. That alone makes it a must-read.

    Hyperspace is one of the best books I’ve read. Period. My view of the world was reformatted every five pages or so. It’s exalting, unbelievable, breathlessly exciting and deeply moving at the same time. For a self-avowed atheist, it’s the closest thing to religious epiphany. Recommended!

  • City on Fire, Walter Jon Williams

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Harper Prism, 1997, 498 pages, C$32.00 hc, ISBN 0-06-105213-2

    Walter Jon Williams is undoubtedly one of the best SF writers today. The fascinating thing is that he has become such by producing an array of remarkably different novels: From cyberpunk (Hardwired) to near-future police procedural (Days of Atonement) to all-out Big SF (Aristoi) to humorous comedy of manners (The Drake Maijstral trilogy), Williams manages to entertain with considerable wit and style.

    His latest book, City on Fire is the first “straight” sequel he has written. Strangely, it’s a book that manages to be sufficiently different from the original to be interesting, all the while being a logical successor to the previous work: Metropolitan was probably the truest example of urban fantasy ever. Starting from the basic premise that certain arrangements of metal and concrete produce a quasi-magical force called plasm, Williams crafted a novel of ambition, revolution and multifaceted power. Aiah, a lowly plasm inspector, accidentally discovers a hidden plasm reserve, which she then offers it to one of the aristocrat (Constantine, a Metropolitan) of her city. Romance and revolution ensued, with the result that Metropolitan ended with a newly-conquered city, and tons of loose ends.

    City on Fire begins as Aiah returns to the newly conquered city, ostensibly to take up a new job as head of a plasm enforcement unit, but also to be closer to Constantine. Most of the book is political in nature: The crosses and double-crosses necessary to maintain a fragile new alliance over the recently liberated city are numerous, and not uninteresting.

    The sequel is a bigger book than the original, and also possibly a better work. After the first few pages, the reader is completely integrated in Williams’ latest world. Political fiction always run the danger of becoming a meaningless jumble of names and parties but fortunately, Williams’ storytelling skills avoid this.

    The style has a certain flourish, but most readers won’t notice this, as they’ll be caught up in Aiah’s rise through the city’s hierarchy. The main protagonists are exceptionally well handled, and even minor characters are distinct and easily remembered. Every scene in the book is intercut with headlines and ads from the city’s media, an effective trick that was under-used in Metropolitan.

    Since this series seems to be headed toward being a trilogy, it is interesting to note that in Metropolitan, Aiah is Constantine’s subordinate. By the End of City on Fire, however, she is beginning to be his equal. This will be interesting to watch in the third volume.

    Metropolitan had the distinction of being a fantasy with most of hard science-fiction’s concern for consistency and world-building. Indeed, some reviewers called Metropolitan SF, rationalizing the shield and plasm as sufficiently advanced technology. The debate isn’t likely to be resolved in City on Fire, but the indicators seem to point toward an interesting sequel…

    While City on Fire isn’t exciting at the level of Williams’ best novels, it is a sufficiently attractive read for any reader with an interest in the author, Metropolitan, or complex political stories. Perhaps not flamboyant enough to warrant being bought in hardcover, but probably worth the paperback price.

  • The New Alchemists, Robert M. Hazen

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Times Books, 1993, 286 pages, C$30.00 hc, ISBN 0-8129-2275-1

    Before reading this book, I thought I knew about pressure. A veteran of several college exam weeks, I just know that these times are some of the most pressurized situations anyone can expect to meet. Seemingly ordinary elements will begin to experience radical changes at high pressures, exhibiting strange new properties and even cracking up under the pressure. My family can testify that even middle-mannered me can develop troubling characteristics while under pressure.

    Which means absolutely anything, except to introduce the subject of an impulse buy and this review: The New Alchemists, by Robert M. Hazen.

    This nonfiction book is divided in two parts: Section one is titled “The Diamond Makers”, and details the various theories, experiments and failures that led to the synthesis of the first diamonds. The account begin at the beginning of chemistry, and spends quite a lot of time discussing the various failures met on the road of diamond making. As Hazen reminds us in the introduction, failures can be as enlightening as successes.

    And a fascinating history it is: From the early 19th century, many scientists and charlatans have tried to make diamonds. (In an excellent first chapter, Hazen oversees the history, properties and beauty of diamonds, thus setting the stage for the desirability of its synthesis) It does take a few attempts, but scientists finally find out that diamond is the product of intense pressure and heat applied to ordinary carbon.

    From then, attempts are more focused, but not necessarily more successful. A Swedish team finally obtains something in 1953, using one of the weirdest process I’ve ever read about. However, it will take until late 1955 and a General Electric team of researcher to devise a working, less cumbersome method and broadcast the results to the world. (The story or the breakthrough itself is immensely fascinating reading, offering a glimpse into scientific feuds and unresolved recriminations.)

    From then on, it becomes an engineering problem to produce the most synthetic diamonds for the less money. Now, GE has a virtual diamond mine in Ohio, where they produce more than 33 tons of diamond a year.

    But the story isn’t over; the diamonds made by high-pressure physics are now helping high-pressure physics itself: Using “diamond anvils”, researchers are pushing back the barriers of pressure, attaining higher and higher levels each year… The second part of this book is titled “The Diamond Breakers”, and tells of some of these researches. Perhaps less focused (and hence, less gripping) than the first part, it nevertheless makes engrossing reading.

    Robert Hazen knows how to write, and this book shows it. This isn’t some dry exposé of unfathomable researchers: The community of high-pressure scientists has a gallery of colorful personalities and events, and The New Alchemists takes delight in telling them. Tales of frauds, explosions, smuggling and “bags of diamonds” abound. This is better reading than most of the novels I’ve read this year.

    I highly recommend The New Alchemists: For everyone who wishes to have an insight into what scientists do, to the fans of fascinating stories. This is one book not to be missed: I place it near the top of my shelf for scientific literature.

    (Post note: While talking to a ex-physics teacher of mine (Serges Desgrenier, University of Ottawa), I discovered that he has his name in The New Alchemists… something I hadn’t caught when I read the book. My amazement at this fact was only compounded by my annoyance at this failure of my pattern-recognition software.)

  • Threshold, Ben Mezrich

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Warner, 1996, 336 pages, C$8.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-446-60521-2

    A smart, competent hero. A beautiful heroine apt to be the target of bad guys. A mad scientist. A plan to radically change humanity. Explosions, guns, shadowy government projects and enough technical jargon to confuse the heck out of anyone not remotely familiar with the subject.

    And the question was: What are ingredients to a good techno-thriller?

    Threshold has all the required qualities of a good techno-thriller. The surprise is that it comes from a new author rather than one of the established masters of the genre.

    Jeremy Ross is headed for a solid medical career when, suddenly, a ghost from his past appears and asks for help: Robin Kelly, an ex-girlfriend. Her father, the secretary of defense, (never mind this unlikely coincidence…) died a few weeks back and she doesn’t think it was an accident. So it’s up to Ross’s skills at medical hacking to uncover the truth. But when bullets start flying, he’s quick to realize that he’s in something far deadlier than a simple autopsy analysis…

    A better-than-average thriller ensues, with car chases, creepy world domination plans, serviceable characters and stupid mistakes by the bad guys. The prose is as exciting as it should be, if not entirely clear at a few critical junctions. Threshold makes perfect summer reading.

    Which is not to say that the novel is flawless: Serious suspension of disbelief is necessary at a few place (60 billion$?). The villains’ actions aren’t always logical (why two set of pursuers in the car chase?). A few characters aren’t kept on stage long enough (Christina Guarrez). The remarkably young age of many characters -while plausible- is sure to annoy a few. A final objection is that the villain’s plan is so… compelling, that the elitist reader will eventually root for its success. (The ultimate resolution also appears a bit tidy.)

    As a first novel, Threshold is quite impressive. Mezrich has the potential for being a serious competitor for Crichton, Cook or Clancy: He’s got it as far as pacing, intelligence or characterization goes. This reviewer will anxiously await Ben Mezrich’s next novel.

  • Star Trek Phase II, Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Pocket, 1997, 357 pages, C$21.50 tpb, ISBN 0-671-56839-6

    I was a teenage Star Trek fan.

    But I’m much better now.

    Science-Fiction is a terribly pernicious addiction. When you begin, everything is good stuff, regardless of actual value. But as one increases one’s level of SF literacy, some things don’t appear so hot. Clichés, déjà-vus, staleness begin to creep in.

    This is where most non-prose SF (Media-SF) doesn’t hold up. Most of the time, it rediscovers concepts that were introduced, explored, and discarded years before by written SF. (And, usually do them wrong!) Add to that the unsatisfying nature of episodic SF and…

    The epitome of Media-SF is certainly Star Trek, whose history is now the source of countless legends, and almost as countless spin-off products. A fascinating case in itself, Star Trek is one of the only TV series to successfully re-invent itself, nearly twenty years after its first diffusion. The Original Series mutated in The Next Generation, and the rest is TV history.

    But the path from TOS to TNG included one surprising attempt at a Star Trek sequel, starring most of the cast from The Original Series. The name, Star Trek II. The time: 1977.

    While the tale had been quickly sketched elsewhere, most notably in George Takei’s autobiography, Star Trek Phase II presents the “official” history of the aborted series.

    In a series of event roughly paralleled in 1994 with UPN and Star Trek: Voyager, Paramount announced in 1977 that it would launch a new network of its own, using a revived Star Trek series as its flagship. (pun; ha-ha) Actors were signed, scripts were written, sets were constructed… but funding was lacking, so the series was scrapped and the pilot episode transformed in STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE.

    Star Trek Phase II is divided in four parts. The first, -by far the most interesting- is a journalistic account of Star Trek II’s creation and downfall. Informative and even entertaining, this is the heart of the book. The second part presents the series “bible”; an exceptional document for Star Trek completists and TV series students. The third part contains the original story treatment by Alan Dean Foster and the first draft script by Harold Livingston for what would become STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE. This section is of interest mainly for ST:TMP fans, if any are left (see below). The fourth part is nothing less than a few of the initial ideas for episodes of STAR TREK II. Notable are works of Ted Sturgeon, Norman Spinrad, and the complete script of the ST II episode that was eventually remade as the ST:TNG episode “The Child” The interest of this last section is highly variable: Most of the time, the story outlines made references to characters (Illia, Xon, Decker) unfamiliar to the casual reader.

    Star Trek Phase II is definitely for the confirmed Trek fan. Other will want to read something… fresher.

    Addenda: The very same day that I put down the book in question, I was zapping through channels when a familiar name in a familiar font attracted my attention: “Executive producer: Gene Roddenberry.” Three bars of music later, I was sitting down for three hours. ST: TMP had begun.

    I used to consider this movie one of my favorite (for the slickness of the production alone) but sadly, my memories don’t match up to the actual film. It’s long, it’s almost plot-less and by goodness, the then-much-lauded special effects are now almost ridiculous!

  • Resurrection Man, Sean Stewart

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Ace, 1995, 248 pages, C$14.50 tpb, ISBN 0-441-00121-1

    Resurrection Man is a quirky book.

    There’s no other way to characterize a book which opens with the protagonist making an autopsy on his own body. Or a novel where family matters are explored more thoroughly than a completely original backdrop where magic has returned to the world. Or a narrative that contains both some of the funniest and the saddest passages in recent memory.

    Sean Stewart made quite a splash in the Canadian SF scene with his debut novel, Passion Play (Winner of the 1993 Aurora Award, as was his second novel, Nobody’s Son.) Resurrection Man is likely to enhance his reputation as one of the most accomplished SF writer in Canada today.

    What if the horrors of World War II had been enough to bring back magic in this world? Many fine novels could be written to explore the concept but -perhaps unfortunately- Stewart’s offbeat fantasy doesn’t really care about the big concept, focusing instead on a dysfunctional family, the Ratkays. The protagonist has to deal with the fact that he’s becoming a powerful magic channel, the sister is an overweight and bitter stand-up comedian, the father is an authoritative physician, the aunt… well, you get the picture. Add a few deep, dark family secrets and soon you’ll be saying “and I though my family was mucked-up!”

    From the first pages (the self-autopsy), it is apparent that this isn’t a run-of-the-mill, escapist fantasy novel. Steward is writing in the laborious style so beloved of literary aficionados everywhere. Neat turns of phrase and sharply drawn characters almost hide that the book’s plot is perhaps less than overwhelming. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you might even be bored.

    Since this is a novel about a family, the characterization is truly top-notch. Characters spend a lot of time pondering themselves, their dislike for each other and the assorted armful of childhood traumas that seems to loom over everyone in this type of fiction.

    This also means that the background setting is deliberately out of focus, at the intense disappointment of this reviewer: The truly non-classical view of magic (where minotaurs, butterflies, coins and grandfather clocks all are magical symbols) would have been fascinating to read about. Another weak element is a part of the conclusion (“But of course it wasn’t mine; it was his!”) that is highly doubtful and doesn’t make much “classical” sense. Fortunately, by the point Steward has redefined the novel’s internal coherency so much that most readers are likely to shrug and enjoy the remainder of the conclusion, which is fairly moving.

    Whether or not Resurrection Man will be liked depends mostly on the reader’s personal preferences: Is he fond of complex characterization, polished prose, nontraditional fantasy and family-type novels? Or is he more interested in fast-moving action, world-building or logical extrapolations? This isn’t a breathlessly entertaining thriller, a mindless action novel or a fluffy-goody fantasy; readers beware!

    Fans of complex family-affairs novels will want to take a look at Resurrection Man. As for others, though it may be heresy to say so, Harry Turtledove’s The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump is a more entertaining look at a contemporary magical world.

  • A Miracle of Rare Design, Mike Resnick

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Tor, 1994, 247 pages, C$6.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-812-52424-1

    The best science-fiction does two things.

    First, it uses the traditional science-fiction devices to bring light on what it means to be human. The point of SF is not the gadgets, but the gadget’s effects on the human mind.

    Also, the best SF entertains as much as it enlightens.

    A Miracle of Rare Design fares very well in both regards.

    Xavier William Lennox is an author, an anthropologist and a very driven human being. In the first chapter, he gets caught by aliens in a sacred temple, and is almost killed for his troubles. Mutilated but not beaten, he then agrees to be transformed into an alien to study them better.

    The book is unpredictable: It goes on for longer and covers more territory that would be expected. Along the way, we get glimpses of a few fascinating alien races. Unusually, Resnick doesn’t bore with interminable descriptions of alien societies and mores: He moves on to other things. At times, the novel almost reads as a fix-up, but an single theme underlies the whole book.

    Strangely, as Lennox becomes more alien, he also appears more human: His drive toward understanding, exploration and new experiences will strike most as being more representative of the ideal human drive than the more conservative supporting cast of characters.

    Almost readable in a single sitting, A Miracle of Rare Design is also a miracle of economic writing. The prose is lean, and propels the reader from one adventure to another. There is a very definite narrative drive. It is almost strange to speak of suspense in the case of this novel, but it is put away only with the greatest reluctance. A Miracle of Rare design is good, satisfying SF. It can be read either as entertainment or literature, and succeeds well on both levels. Recommended.

    BRIEFLY: The Widowmaker, by the same author, is another entertaining short novel, readable in a flash and as enjoyable as anything written in the genre. The story of Jefferson Nighthawk (clone of the famous bounty hunter Widowmaker) is told quickly and simply. There are more than a few memorable scenes, and even more good replies. In many ways, The Widowmaker is a throwback to the simpler, more amusing years of classical SF. The biggest flaw of the book is that it eventually moves beyond its initially light tone to become much darker and tragic. Otherwise, good stuff for all. First in a trilogy, but stands quite well alone.

  • Bellwether, Connie Willis

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Bantam Spectra, 1996, 247 pages, C$8.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-553-56296-7

    The human mind is a fascinating thing. Witness the phenomenon of fads, fashions, celebrities, popular entertainment and other temporary manifestations of insanity. Men and Women of this technological society always crave the cool, the hip, the new.

    Almost as entertaining as these manias are the explanations concerning them. Especially interesting is the concept of “memes”, or self-replicating ideas… a ideological analogue to biological viruses. Considering the anti-communist paranoia of the fifties as being a sociological plague is oddly appealing. In this context, fads may just be a harmless (?) analogue to the flu. Makes you reconsider grunge, right?

    While Connie Willis doesn’t use “memes” anywhere in the narrative, Bellwether is at the same time an enjoyable character study of an enormously likable protagonist, a touching love story, and a genuine present-day science-fiction story.

    Sandra Foster is single, literate, funny and a sociologist. Her area of study: Fads… and what causes them. But the way to scientific discovery is chaotic at best, and Sandra will have to battle management, acronyms, incompetent secretaries, sheep and shortsighted libraries to attain her goal… if she can figure out what it is.

    Bellwether is told in a quick, humane, light tone. This isn’t the manipulative tearjerker that Doomsday Book was, nor is it the meaningless tale that Unexplored Territory was. A hasty judgment on this novel would (rightfully) blast the incoherent treatment of science, management or administrative assistants (which ranges from dead-on to way-off) but of course… that would be ignoring the satiric tone of the novel.

    Bellwether is a surprising book. As Uncle Bob would say: “No nekkid boobs, no bullets, 00 on the vomit-meter.” Only a few “rapid-movement” scenes, and they’re more funny than exciting. And yet… this reviewer was glued to the book during his rare free moments on an otherwise hectic day, staying up way too late to finish it. Higher praise is almost impossible.

    No extraterrestrials or fancy futuristic high-technology are included here. Indeed, despite the satiric mode, Bellwether might contain one of the most realistic depiction of scientific research ever included in a SF novel. Even if half of it’s implausible (everything connected to the Niebnitz grant, for instance), it’s the other half that counts.

    No comments are necessary on the romance subplot… except that it’s mature, quiet and should appeal to even the most cynical hard-SF fan.

    Said SF-fans should relish the lumps of exposition scattered here and there in the novel. Did you know that color fads are usually caused by technological progress? Or that the most popular fads require a low ability threshold? (A most telling anecdote happened a few days after reading Bellwether: While walking through downtown Ottawa, this reviewer heard bongo drums played by a couple a street musicians and immediately thought back to the corresponding passage in the novel: “Oh yeah; low ability threshold!”)

    Bellwether redeems Connie Willis after the overrated Doomsday Book and the overpriced, underwhelming Remake. The potential appeal of this book is enormous, even reaching far outside the usual boundaries of the genre: This might even be one book you’d want to give to SF-challenged relatives who are always asking why you keep reading “this Buck Rogers stuff”.

    Thoroughly recommended.

  • Mainline, Deborah Christian

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Tor, 1996, 374 pages, C$7.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-812-54908-2

    I really wanted to like Mainline. After all, it’s a good SF thriller; full of explosions, double-crosses, sophisticated gadgetry and bisexual females… but the overall effect is more akin to ennui than to excitement.

    In other words, “I just wasn’t in the mood, dear.”

    The plot summary is promising enough: So in the far future, there’s this expert assassin named Reva. She’s got an advantage that other assassin would very certainly kill for: The ability to see, and travel to parallel realities. Is this a threatening situation? Quick check on the fourth axis: Yeah? Okay… Want to escape quickly? Exit by the orthogonal plane…

    As the novel opens, Reva is used to this kind of stuff. Good at her job, she doesn’t have any friends (hard to keep’em when travelling across realities) nor any kind of moral fibre: He reaction to danger is to flee.

    But, -ah-ha!- she soon hooks up with a girl called Lish and suddenly, it’s not so easy to leave a reality behind. (Meanwhile, Lish has problems all of her own. Like a few million dollars worth of debt, and two assassins with contracts on her life. But that’s later on.) A lot of potential there for a thoughtful exploration of tenacity and friendship: Actual execution is only fair, with moments of brilliance and others of mere adequacy.

    (French-speaking readers will have no doubt noticed that Lish is pronounced much like the French equivalent to… nah…)

    At 374 pages, Mainline is too long; a few subplots could have been axed, to be replaced by other threads if necessary. Characters are okay, and so is the ending. My lukewarm reaction to this book doesn’t mean that this is an inferior novel… just that subjective opinions can, and are, less than constant.

    I felt that Reva’s almost-magical psi-power was a bit misused (a usual problem with psi-powers) but that the various gadgets were fairly imaginative, and sure to be stolen by some movie in the near future. Miss Christian (love the name 🙂 ) writes mean action scenes, once the reader is immersed in her prose.

    I do not enthusiastically recommend Mainline, but neither do I really recommend avoiding it. Call it “a foreign movie” on the Sid-and-Nancy scale, and a “Borrow it if there’s nothing else to read” rating on the library scale.

  • Wildside, Steven Gould

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Tor, 1996, 316 pages, C$7.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-812-52398-9

    Readers of Wildside may very well find one word ringing in their mind during the whole book.

    Heinlein.

    Ultra-competent young hero. Importance of self-sufficiency. Sex-hungry cast of characters. Distrust of the power of government. Coming-of-age novel. Easily readable yet detailed prose. Enjoyable first-person POV… Yep, that’s a Heinlein book all right!

    While modern, civilised man is a creature of flesh, asphalt and silicon, there is always a part of us that mourns for the untouched beauty of nature. How else to explain natural parks, summer homes in rural regions, camping and the popularity of westerns? Similarly, most of us would pay obscene amounts of money to have a pristine “world” all of our own.

    Enters Science-Fiction, which has years of experience in describing The Doorway. (In addition of being a doorway in itself) The Doorway is usually some kind of unassuming passage, leading to a world very much unlike our own. In Wildside, it’s an alternate Earth untouched by humans. Wondrous creatures such as passenger pigeons, sabertooth tigers and mammoths still roam free though the countryside.

    But, as the jacket copy says, “the door belongs to Charlie Newell”. And that’s a problem in itself. Not that Charlie is weak or incompetent: He’s able to take care of himself, live alone on a small ranch and pilot planes. Not bad for someone whose high-school graduation occurs in the first pages of the novel.

    But every protagonist has to have a few problems, and Charlie’s no exception. He loves Marie who’s going out with Joey, who has a drinking problem. All of the above will have an impact on subsequent events. When Charlie shows The Doorway to four of his friends (Marie and Joey included) and make them an offer they can’t really refuse, the plot begins.

    A fascinating part of the novel are the meticulous preparations Charlie and his friends must take to function on the Wildside: Small planes, support equipment, skydiving lessons and pilot training for everyone. For once, conquering the unexplored doesn’t seem to be an improvisational endeavour. The steps are authentically detailed, down to the small-aircraft lingo.

    Technically, this is an admirable novel: The prose is dirt-simple, but not without merit. All characters are meticulously defined. After only a few pages, they begin to take form. The plot is well handled (if not without lengths in the second third), the conclusion is suitably mind-expanding… and Charlie finally does get (a) girl.

    Wildside is sufficiently impressive to make one interested in the author’s previous works. After all, could one read only one Heinlein novel?

  • Future Net, Ed. Martin H. Greenberg & Larry Segrif

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    DAW, 1996, 315 pages, C$6.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-88677-723-2

    Familiarity breeds contempt.

    So here I am, uber-internet Nerd, browsing in the library, checking out the new paperback section, and WOOF! There it is, with the ugly neon pink-and-green cover: Future Net, an anthology of SF short stories about, what else, the Net. Three nanoseconds of hesitation, then it’s a direct path to the checkout counter. What’s more hip than Net stories?

    But there is a thing as being too hip. There’s nothing as annoying as a new cliché, and Future Net revels in them.

    For instance, the concept of a disabled person assuming a completely new identity on the Internet, or somehow being liberated by the immaterial medium of high-tech communications, is not new. It might even have been exciting the first few times I’ve read it. But no less than four of the sixteen stories of Future Net deal with this kind of protagonist. Granted, one of them (Billie Sue Mosiman’s “Shining on”) is potent, but the remainder… tear-jerk time! (And your reaction may vary slightly, especially when the grandmother bites the electrical cable… but that’s a spoiler.)

    Most of the attraction of Net stories, I suspect, resides in the dichotomy between body and mind, or true self versus idealized self. So, we get tons of stories about people passing for (better) other personalities, in addition to the fore-mentioned handicapped stories.

    The other big theme, of course, is the difference between reality and illusion. Phil K. Dick didn’t need the Net to do this, and frankly the Net hasn’t helped the authors very much here.

    Most of the book is strictly routine, like the Four Crippled Protagonists, and the stories with such innovative titles as “Ghost in the Machine” and “Fatal Error 1000”. A few authors shine through, like Gregory Benford with “Zoomers” (Easily the best story, mostly because it deals with its own internal logic.) and John Delancie with “O! The Tangled Web” (Starts off badly, but regains strength at the end. Should have been shorter.) Honourable mention to “Ghost in the Machine” (John Helfers), “Lover Boy” (Daniel Ransom) and “Someone who understands me” (Matthew Costello), even if that last one has a conclusion that’s very obvious, even from page two.

    Hard SF fans will want to pass this book: The really horrible stuff assumes that the Net is a new name for Magic, and we get Coyote Viruses, after-life browsers, dead spouses infiltrating computer systems and other really, really silly stuff. This is fantasy at its worst, and I am quite unable to find words describing what should be done to the authors who commit this kind of trash.

    And I am unable to avoid mentioning the story in which two super-computer whiz (both ridiculously young, of course) stumble into a dastardly plot with worldwide repercussions and successfully foil it!! Egawd!! For your kill-files, the name of the story is “Souvenirs and Photographs” and the author’s Jody Lynn Nye.

    Most of the worst stories use present-day technology is completely unrealistic ways. I’ve used the Internet daily since 1993 and being familiar with today’s capacities diminished considerably my interest in Fluffy-goody-magic Net misconceptions. Especially damnable was “Freedom” (Mickey Zucker Reichert), with… urg… I feel gagging reflexes already.

    To make a long and boring reading short; avoid. You’d be better off buying the next Benford anthology to read “Zoomers,” and samewise for the DeLancie and Costello stories. DAW didn’t impress me very much with Future Net.

  • The Other End of Time, Frederik Pohl

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Tor, 1996, 348 pages, C$8.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-812-53519-7

    Frederik Pohl is surely one of the most professional SF writer in the business today. He regularly turns out book after book of rarely great, but always competent fiction. His latest, The Other End of Time, won’t win him any awards, but will surely entertain legions of his fans.

    The first hundred page of the novel are almost a remake of his previous novel The Cool War : An unpleasant future (2031), where people routinely carry an assortment of weapons, Florida is trying to separate and where inflation runs a 2-3% a day.

    We meet the two principal characters: Dan Dannerman, secret agent sent to spy on his rich cousin Patricia Adcock. A few dozen pages of the usual urban SF later, five humans are abducted by aliens and the novel shifts tone entirely. The next hundred pages or so are a sort of prison drama, where our five -no, seven!- protagonists try to outwit their captors. This is the best part of the book, being focused in terms of action and characters.

    The conclusion is a letdown, however, as things happen in random order and no real progress is made. The end comes so abruptly that one wonders if Pohl was just tired of the novel and decided to end it as quickly. as possible, while letting himself just enough leeway for a sequel.

    Pohl’s style is what we have come to expect from him: Quick and efficient, but not without a certain streamlined elegance. The pace is uneven, but everything can be disposed of in a few hours.

    Hard-SF fans and atheists will be displeased at the casual usage of a plot device that appears much more magical than anything else. The implication of the “duplicator” device is well thought-of, even if I feel that more could have been done with it.

    Overall, The Other End of Time feels more than the first salvo in a series of galactic adventures than a particularly entertaining stand-alone. Aimed at Pohl fans, mostly.

  • Callahan’s Legacy, Spider Robinson

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Tor, 1996, 217 pages, C$29.95 hc, ISBN 0-312-85776-4

    Asking me to review Callahan’s Legacy is akin to ask a priest to judge a wet T-shirt contest. Sure, it might be enjoyable but does he really agree with this stuff? No chance!

    Robinson’s “Callahan” series is usually about places (bars, two times out of three) where people come in to feel better, be witty and indulge in adult pleasures. (sex, drugs and alco’holl). There is an assorted gallery of wacky characters, wackier situations, and the wackiest wordplay you’ll find anywhere. Everything is told from an impeccably delightful narrator’s voice, probably the wittiest 1st-person-POV this side of Heinlein. In short, it’s a blast.

    But as it so often happens with this kind of light-hearted fiction, our enjoyment goes out when the plot comes in. The first half of the book is almost completely fun: Only a first chapter marred by tasteless pregnancy/urine/sex jokes diminishes the fun. Once Mary’s Place (the bar) opens for the night, the book really gets in gear.

    So the roof is removed by a tornado (only to be replaced by another almost immediately afterward) and the first irregular comes in, opens a guitar case full of hundred-dollar bills and begin shaping paper airplanes out of them, only to throw them into the fire. (Every good bar has a fireplace, of course.) More wordplay ensues and then the weird stuff happens.

    But when Mary Callahan and her husband time-teleport in the middle of the bar, the Earth’s very existence is suddenly in peril and the novel’s jolly (harmless) tone changes to something slightly more bitter. Before long, one of the bar’s regular is describing his homosexual experiences (told in dialect, no less!) the narrator’s wife is giving birth, everyone’s linked in a oh-so-sensual group consciousness and the world’s biggest threat is knocking at the door. Add the use of recreational drugs in the mix (I hope you don’t mind the orgy taking place in the background, sir?) and I’m beginning to get seriously annoyed.

    Which is, I believe, Robinson’s intent: How straight is the world today! How many problems are we creating for ourselves by rejecting free love and a few good joints! Quick, Batman, let’s go back to the sixties!

    What makes it irritating is the smug, no-discussion-is-allowed tone the book takes. Much like it’s impossible to disagree with Heinlein, any difference of opinion with Robinson is a sign of a traumatized existence.

    Reading a book review is sometime as revealing of the reviewer than it is of the book. The last paragraphs are doubtlessly the product of a closed mind, will mumble a few. So be it.

    Yet, despite my objections to elements of the book’s conclusion, Callahan’s Legacy is fun. While the puns aren’t all equal (a few of them are downright obscure… and the fact that English is my second language doesn’t really help.) there are a few good ones and the initial atmosphere of the bar is pleasant. One almost wishes that somewhere, there is such a thing as Callahan’s. While the effect may lessens after a while (I’ve seen a few jaded reader comment that Callahan’s Legacy was inferior to the other books.) this is a novel that will leave you smiling at the fun and groaning at the puns. Readers beware!

  • Contact, Carl Sagan

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Pocket, 1990 (1997 reprint), 434 pages, C$7.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-671-00410-7

    A better movie than the book. A smart summer flick. A motion picture where the science at least tries to be exact. A smart, beautiful, atheist heroine.

    Compared to these four impossibilities, alien contact seems almost pedestrian. Yet, CONTACT achieves all of them. The mind wobbles. Only the supervision of the great late Carl Sagan could make it possible.

    When a female astronomer (Ellie Arroway) discovers an alien message embedded in a radio signal from Vega, it’s up to her to convince the world of the importance of her discovery. Along the way, she’ll have to face up to the death of her father and the entwined nature of science and religion…

    I thought that Contact the novel wasn’t exceptional. Sure, the message detection sequence was superb, as were the various steps toward the construction of the Machine and the selection of the candidates. However, the novel simply tried too hard to reconcile religion and science, the Josh Palmer character was unsympathetic, Ellie Arroway didn’t really grab me and the conclusion, while memorable, (they find an unambiguous message from God in Pi=3.1415…) didn’t quite fit with my atheist convictions. While Sagan was being more or less even-handed, he did so in a very subtle manner. When I heard that a movie was in the making, I first despaired: Subtlety isn’t Hollywood’s greatest strength, and I was ready to see an adaptation with all the craftiness of an elephant in a chemistry lab. Oops.

    I went alone to see CONTACT, more out of unfortunate consequences than any desire to see it alone. I even sat in the middle of the fourth row, in complete defiance to usual movie-going behaviour. Waited impatiently as the usual crowd of high-school morons settled around, more interested in smooching than expanding their minds. And then the movie started.

    The good news are that CONTACT is the purest, hardest science-fiction movie… ever. The bad news is that it’s good, but not great. As much as I wanted to love the movie, at best I could only like it. As expected, there was too much of a senseless debate on science versus religion. (With no clear winner according to the movie… but it had to cheat badly to do so: The senate hearing scene at the end is completely boffo. I was busy coming up with hard arguments against the “theory” while Ellie’s character simply followed the screenwriter’s direction to play dumb as not to ruin the movie’s point.) It’s no 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, but 2001 is the only motion picture it can be compared to.

    But never mind what the movie does wrong. What’s more important is what the movie does right. An exceptional female protagonist. A blind astronomer. Savvy movie-making. Stunning “invisible” digital effects. A solid grasp of science. Effortless scientific vulgarization. In short, smart (if misguided) SF.

    Zemeckis has managed the proverbial good science-fiction movie. For this only, I am in awe. CONTACT is a solid contender for the Oscars. While I would have rather have had seen THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS, it is comforting to think that at least, CONTACT has been made.

  • The Seeds of Time, Kay Kenyon

    ByChristian Sauvé Book Review

    Bantam Spectra, 1997, 513 pages, C$7.99 mmpb, ISBN 0-553-57681-X

    Metals. Petals.

    The debate rages on: Should SF focus on the hardware or the software? Is Hard-SF inherently soulless? Are characters studies doomed to be scientifically laughable? Is scientific obsession the path to environmental bliss or collapse? Kay Kenyon’s first novel, The Seeds of Time, makes good use of these themes, and offers a compelling read.

    Clio Finn is one of the select few able to pilot spaceships through time. The goal is nothing less than to save the Earth: All flora is dying out, and the only hope is to find another planet with compatible, resistant biology. (Other planets by time travel: As you know, solar systems move through space and time…)

    Of course, a lot of things will happen to Clio between page 1 and 513. She’s not exactly the kind of meek, slavish heroine so prevalent everywhere. Nor is she an imperturbable ice queen: Brash but vulnerable, she’s one of the most engaging protagonist in recent memory.

    A memorable heroine isn’t the only good thing about The Seeds of Time: The novel can boasts of a fast-moving plot enhanced by a completely readable style. Unlike other books that wander aimlessly around the main plot, this book stays focused: Events quite simply happen. Chapter after chapter, characters die, sleep together, or beat up the heroine. Or so it seems.

    The future(s) described by Kenyon is depressing: In 2018, Earth is dying, extreme paranoia against AIDS (we presume) is the source of severe repression against deviant social behaviour, a Nazi-like institution rules over the United States… Experienced readers are already shaking their heads in déjà-vu, not to mention the unlikeliness of such social drastic changes in 20 years (even if stranger things have already happened.) But wait! Before long, alternate realities are brought into the plot and everyone can shake their heads, at least contended that there is a rational explanation.

    The last hundred pages are unsatisfying, a case of “too much too fast”, but the ride up to then is quite a blast. Besides the heroine, most characters are sharply drawn and despite a large cast of supporting characters, no one is confused. (Although a few names are unintentionally suggestive: This reviewer couldn’t help but imagine Harlan Ellison in Ellison Brisher’s role, and Rene Russo playing the eponymous “Captain Russo” character.) There is also a fair amount of melodrama in The Seeds of Time but to Kenyon’s credit, it didn’t appear forced or too annoying.

    More about the conclusion: The alternative offered to Clio seemed a bit too… radical. A compromise would have worked better on several levels, not the least of them being the metal/petal debate, which seems too sharply divided to allow for real shades of opinion. SF isn’t about easy answers… and this seemed like one.

    A superior protagonist, a fast-moving plot and competent storytelling makes The Seeds of Time a good book, and an excellent first novel. Despite a few reservations, one could do worse than buy it.