Review: Necromancer – Gordon R. Dickson

So I reviewed this book before, in November of 2019. It’s not a very good review, and it’s also not a very well-written review. One excuse for this is that slaving in the tiger pits is hard work and not conducive to metaphysical contemplativity or resultant expression. The other reason why I liked but didn’t understand it at the time is that I hadn’t consciously or subconsciously figured out the twist–or was just skimming too hard to catch it–and that’s kind of critical to understanding the actual book and its place in the series, which, after all is called the Childe Cycle….not the “Dorsai series.”

Needless to say, on reading it again I was impressed by how well it’s done. Yes, it is low on scifi blasting action. But it’s not a scifi pulp-action. It’s more of a futuristic thriller, with [para]psychological overtones that become more prevalent as the plot unfolds. (Also, needless but unfortunate to say, almost anything improves in contrast to The Final Encyclopedia.)

Necromancer was published 1962, the second book of the Cycle. It’s unquestionably the work of a younger author: it’s intense, bold, quick in thought and action, and immensely self-assured without being self-indulgent.–rather like it’s protagonist, Paul Formain. And to discuss said protagonist. I’ve opined before how most authors have character types which they resort to time after time, how better authors are aware of this tendency, and how the best authors make use of it. Dickson’s Hero Type is a loner, a man separate from humanity, who observes it with varying degrees of interest, affection, and masterful dominance. Dickson being an old grandmaster, he twists and plays with this character type, giving its tendencies varying emphasis: on the mastery, on the loneliness, on the affection or disaffection for other humans–and sometimes subverting it wholesale, by allowing the protagonist to be completely and utterly wrong about things. (They also tend to be extremely tall, muscular, and strangely attractive to women, but never mind that.) But it’s a character type which, in competent–and confident–hands, is immensely satisfying to follow. Readers of the Childe Cycle will note essential similarities between Dorsai!‘s Donal Graeme, Necromancer‘s Paul Formain, and others along the way. But, of course, that’s the point…

I was also quite impressed with the plot structure, which unfolds the personalities involved in the conflict, then the conflict itself, and then the solution to that conflict, in a manner which allows each side time to develop and explain its side and stance, and then resolves it all without diminishing any of them. (The ending is kind of brilliant, because each of the parties involved in the confrontation walk away thinking they’ve won, or at least been allowed to walk away and continue their path to inevitable victory.) Often–almost always, in fact–authors can only resolve a confrontation between two ideologically-motivated opposing forces by writing one as obviously evil, and then making that side inexplicably stupid when the critical moment comes, even if it’s been monolithically powerful before. Here, both sides of the conflict are allowed to draw out and present their case. Both (/all) sides have their good points and bad ones, which are shown and not told by the simple yet brilliant method of embodying them in the personalities which showcase each side. The powers of both sides are presented, showing that they are in their own ways, evenly matched in their total opposition. –and then the audience is reminded that anything that perfectly balanced in one direction can be upset by a force from a different direction.

And, critically, it does all this in less than 200 pages. There’s no padding, no self-indulgent, meandering theses. Every scene is well-crafted, to the point, and solid.

Okay, so what is the book about? So young mining engineer Paul Formain loses his arm in an accident, which by itself doesn’t seem to be all that strange. Neither, in isolation, does the fact that, five years before, Paul survived a boating accident which should surely have killed him–an accident from which he hazily remembers being rescued by a strange figure in a black cloak and pointy hat. Somewhat strange is the fact that Paul’s body completely rejects transplant attempts to graft on a new, replacement arm. Maybe strange is the way his remaining arm grows freakishly stronger over time. Definitely strange is his utter rejection of his psychiatrists’ diagnosis of a subconscious urge to self-destruction; but, following this, entirely natural for him to conclude that modern science is of no use in this matter, and that hope lies with the agents of Alternate Science, the self-proclaimed wizards, warlocks, and necromancers of the Chantry Guild…

The Chantry Guild boldly declares that it’s purpose is to destroy: to smash down the institution and the attitudes which have brought the human race to a well-fed, well-groomed, near-mindless, complaisant sickness…except that, as events unfold, what they really want to do is protect themselves. And, since rational human beings (even rational beings who believe in Alternate Laws and follow a leader who wears a pointy hat and a long cape) don’t have to protect themselves in the absence of an enemy, it follows that there is an enemy. And that this enemy is not simply an institutional attitude, but has actual, physical form–an enemy which even modern-day sorcerers, with the ability to warp time, perception,  and matter itself, are hard-pressed to match, let alone overcome.

Oh, and the fate of the human race itself is at stake.

But that’s the ultimate point of the Childe Cycle….

Other stuff: Formain returning to the final confrontation in a cryogenically-frozen body which hasn’t quite finished thawing out is still a striking scene. So is the reveal of the final pages, which make it clear what’s going on without, and I cannot stress this enough, belaboring the point.

Rated: I still don’t get what the deal is with the “apple comfort” song, though.

Loot Haul: under budget & ahead of schedule

Pro tip: show up when the doors open for the Giant Annual Booksale…not thirty minutes afterwards.

• The Long Patrol – Brian Jacques. (It was the first Redwall book I ever read and it has a special place in my heart.)
• Artemis Fowl – Eoin Colfer
• Outlaws of Sherwood – Robin McKinley
• Treasure Island – Robert Louis Stevenson (I have never actually read this book or watched any of the movies all the way through.)
• The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas (it doesn’t say “abridged.” It better not be abridged.)
• Grave Peril – Jim Butcher
• Tom Swift and his JetMarine, Tom Swift and his Giant Robot – Victor Appleton II
• Today We Choose Faces – Roger Zelazny
• The Hub: Dangerous Territory – James H. Schmitz
• Coils – Zelazny and Fred Saberhagen
• The Aeronaut’s Windlass – Jim Butcher
• The Stars My Destination – Alfred Bester
• The Chronicles of Narnia omnibus – C. S. Lewis

Fourteen books for seventeen dollars ain’t bad. (I did manage to resist, at another location, the temptation to purchase The Art of War: A Coloring Book.)

Book Review: Tower of Silence – Larry Correia

So Tower of Silence, the fourth of five in Larry Correia’s Saga of the Forgotten Warrior, is out, and Larry promises that there’s only going to be five books, so yay. It’s a really good book, in a really good series, and I recommend it AND THIS REVIEW WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ALL FOUR BOOKS SO FAR, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. SotFW is some of Correia’s very best work so far—a work that plays to his strengths (action scenes, over the top violence, strong and violent men, strong and sometimes violent women, unexpectedly detailed worldbuilding, and snarky humor), while also building on them. Correia started out with the schlocky Monster Hunter International, a gory and brainless homage to a) B-grade monster movies, b) guns.

He’s gotten so much better since then, and Saga of the Forgotten Warrior showcases that growth. So the action scenes in this book/series are never pointless or excessive; the violence either exhilarating, shocking, or deeply satisfying; his characters, male and female, have depth, intelligence, and personalities that develop and expand as they move through the world and face the challenges that plot and life throw at them.  And apparently his world has fractional reserve banking, so….I’ma say he indeed put some thought into the worldbuilding. Crucially, he doesn’t waste audience goodwill by including detailed scenes of financial analysis—but the world of Lok does have an authenticity about it when the characters discuss the economies of rebellion, war, and wholesale genocide.

And despite that last sentence, there’s also a healthy current of dark but snarky humor throughout.

There’s also several heartbreaking deaths and plenty of nauseating ones.

SPOILERS COMMENCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Good stuff:

One of the things that always bugs the hell out of me in a certain genre of fantasy is EVERYONE BLOODY HAVING TO TRAVEL FROM POINT A TO POINT B, ALL DAY, EVERY DAY. Just because JRR Tolkien did it doesn’t mean you have to, too, and it drives me bonkers when other authors use “travelogue” to substitute for “plot.” Other books in this series have had that tendency, to a degree. This one mostly doesn’t (Ashok not initially being on the correct continent is the only exception). Correia has managed to place his characters, mostly, where they physically need to be, and lets the plot proceeds with, around, and occasionally over their dead bodies.

One of the other things that Correia does is write a very satisfying book. Because his characters are multi-dimensional and intelligent, their actions lead very logically to consequences–some of them planned, some of them unforeseen but predictable to the readers because this is how the world and stories set in this world logically work. Even better, some of the consequences might not have been explicitly predicted by the readers, but fit within the rules provided. So, after we have been shown that magical communications can occur best when communicants embed their messages on adjacent demon bones, and that the Inquisition is harvesting their bones from a captive demon held in a massive tank beneath their headquarters, [SPOILERS] Omand eventually finds that all messages that have ever been sent using that creature’s bones are known to it. Omand is intelligent, lusts for power, and has absolutely no limits when it comes to increasing his power, but he has several significant blind spots when it comes to the actions of other people–or beings–who also have no limits. (Hence always underestimating Ashok.)

The other part of why this book is so satisfying to read is that the characters are intelligent, competent, and largely proactive. The plot is a series of moves and countermoves by people who have clearly defined goals and ambitions. Thera wants to save the casteless. Bharatas wants revenge on Ashok Vadal. Jagdish wants to keep his family safe and the honor of House Vadal intact. Rada wants to undo the harm she has done by forging reports leading to genocide. Ashok wants to get back home and protect the Prophet. Devedas wants power. Omand wants unlimited power. The demons want unlimited revenge. Each of these characters works to get what they want.

As far as wordsmithing goes, it’s competent and brisk. Correia knows what he’s good at, and improves on what he’s not.

And we already have discussed the action scenes. They’re great.

SPOILERS COMMENCE: PLOT SUMMARY

So I’ve reviewed Son of the Black Sword and House of Assassins, books 1 and 2, but failed to review book 3, Destroyer of Worlds. This is because while SotBS and HoA were fairly self-contained stories with satisfying conclusions, Destroyer of Worlds ends on a downer note-slash-cliffhanger. The Great Extermination has begun and Ashok is out of commission as far as leading the rebellion goes. As a matter of fact, he’s just washed up on the shores of Fortress after having had his throat cut in a duel and falling into an icy river.

Book 4 opens with Ashok still out of commission, after having been imprisoned in the deepest dungeons of Fortress / Xhonura for almost a year. Unlike the rest of Lok, the people of Xhonura do remember the prophesies about the return of Ramrowan—but there are many pretenders, and the easiest way of dealing with them is to see if they can survive the sort of conditions that Ramrowan could have. Unfortunately, even when proof of the prophecy’s fulfilment is presented to them (and their current tyrant meets, uh, the end that comes to those who piss off Ashok Vadal), Xhonura itself is still politically divided and unready to take action to support their Avatara. And support is very necessary, because Thera has decided that Sons of the Black Sword need to strike a decisive blow against Capitol and the Great Extermination.—and in her council, the right-hand man of her priest and chief advisor, is Javed, a spy for the Inquisition.

Meanwhile, the chief Inquisitor, Omand, starts to leverage his position with the demon he has kept captive and tortured beneath the Inquisitors’ Dome: in return for the deaths of the blood of Ramrowan—all the blood of Ramrowan—power. Thing is, despite Omand’s cunning and intelligence having brought him so far, he’s still quite blind in certain vital ways.

Also meanwhile, our other heroine, the ex-Librarian Rada has been warned by the black steel artifact of which she has been made keeper. She, her Protector bodyguard Karno, and their host and friend Jagdish, must heed this warning if they are to survive…for there really are powers greater than man at work in the world of Lok, and they have decided to move.

Oh, also, there is one hell of an “uh oh, uh oh, oh shit!” cliffhanger ending here.

Rated: “You bear my name. For I am the witch.“

Review – Dorsai! – Gordon Dickson

(By the way, this cover is book-accurate.)

So, in this book Dickson stays on the correct side of the mysticism/science line that philosophically-inclined SF, his in particular, sometimes falls off of. What’s more, he also stays on the right side of the action/introspection divide as well, neither spending too much time tossing grenades around and shouting “clear,” or becoming too absorbed in the mind of its ubermensch. The result is a story that is fast-paced and gripping, but which never forgets that it has a deeper purpose and meaning–a terrible purpose, as Paul Atreides would say.

That terrible purpose? To portray the life and times of the Super-man.

That’s a spoiler, but I feel that knowing the reveal to one aspect of the plot doesn’t detract from the rest of this book; there’s a solid enough mil-SF plot with all the trimmings of a political thriller there on top of the aforementioned psychological aspect. It’s an engrossing enough plot, albeit briskly told with an absolute dearth of padding (my paperback copy is a mere 280 pages); and while I have some doubts on the actual efficacy of certain plot elements, such as Donal’s total-takeover strategy for invading a “civilized” world, or the whole issue of how very efficient it could be to contract skilled labor from other planets in lieu of, IDK, sending your own students to other planets to get educated, maybe….well, it’s speculative fiction.

What I find valuable about this book is Dickson’s adept portrayal, and explanations of in simple terms for the socially maladapt nerds reading it–of the tactics of mistake. Dickson breaks down thought processes involved in strategy, and the viewpoint that would support a short-term unfavorable position in order to achieve conditions favorable for a long-term goal. He shows how the personality types that would deal in such methods work–and how an honest and honorable, but equally cunning opponent can deal with such duplicity. Again–all this, but it’s explained in terms teenage nerds can comprehend. (Frank Herbert did much the same, with somewhat more stylization, in Dune.)

After all, what is the Super-man? To a nerd, it’s someone who understands other human beings….

So, Gordon Dickson is an author with pretty uneven output. He published a lot of stuff, some of which has been forgotten because it was overly grim and lacked balance; some of which was forgotten because it was overly fluffy and lacked staying value (as sorry as I am to say it about the valiant Hokas). At his best, though, his works speak deeply but not very clearly. He tends to write of individuals, men (Golden Age SF = male protagonist, sorry) who are alone in a crowd, in a city, in a universe: men who struggle not with other people or with that collection of other people known as society, but with themselves.

In Dickson’s world, “Man versus Self” is typified in the titanic but entirely internal struggles of a character making choices and acting upon those choices, in search of the understanding of what feelings or motivations determine those choices. Internal conflict is a character who does not understand his or her subconscious motivations, but either acts boldly on them regardless–or who struggles against them and refrains from action–and, examining the consequences of their actions or inactions, gains insight into their own mind, until the time comes when they see themselves and are at one with what they see.

[I had more on this theme written down but the paper got lost somewhere. Alas.]

In Dorsai! Donal Graeme’s internal conflict is with himself–to understand himself and where he stands in relation to humanity. Donal is apart from humanity, although he values it as a collection of individual lives. His external conflict is  with the shadow version of himself: someone part of humanity–possibly even the apex of humanity–who regards human populations as a disposable whole, and who acts towards them accordingly.–a conflict as natural and instinctual as it is unavoidable, inevitable, and increasingly personal. And there you have your answer to the question “okay, but so what is the plot, anyway?”

So, anyway. It’s a well-crafted novel where even the love-interest subplot, on reflection, fits snugly, if a little gratingly at first. It’s interconnected to the rest of the Dorsai cycle deeply enough to make me go and re-read Lost Dorsai. And The Spirit of Dorsai. And Warrior. And Brothers…

Rated: I really need to know who would win in a knife fight between Donal Graeme and Paul Atreides, but I want to be standing on a different planet when it happens.

Also rated: Donal Graeme can walk on air, because walking on water would have been way too on the nose.

Rambling Review: The Witches of Karres – James H. Schmitz

I’m frankly impressed at how dreadful this cover is.

So I did do a half-baked kind of review of this book a couple years ago. Thing is, this new review isn’t going to be much better.

It’s difficult to review a book that is…pretty much perfect. I don’t think that I can make any substantive criticisms of this book. It’s tightly plotted, paced, characterized; the action scenes are swift, adept, exciting; and there’s a pervasive sense of wonder, adventure, and fun that You Just Don’t See Every Day. It’s got witches, space pirates, space battles, the dread overlord of a crime planet wearing a skullcap to protect him from psychic emanations, robot assassins, time travel (technically), creepy survival horror on an alien planet, rescuing little girls from slavery (and God help their former owners), fighting against the evil Empire, not being double-crossed by alien warlords, and quite a bit more.

I don’t think I have a single ill word to say about this book.

So what about the things that make it work?

Verisimilitude is one of them. I went into this review vaguely thinking that Schmitz was a Merchant Marine (he wasn’t, that may have been Jack Vance.) Nevertheless, his space ship battles, repair woes, difficulties with customs inspectors and uncleared merchandise—and the looming, inescapable fact that No One Reads The Regulations—rings very, very true. (Would the information on the witch-folk of Karres be under K? Or W?) The worlds feel worn and lived-in, in a way that can be most easily visualized as “Old-school Star Wars,” the floors scuffed and the corners dusty, the plas-leather of gunbelts worn and supple, the light of the suns overhead whiter and brighter than we see ourselves.

The other is an ethos that is pervasive to Schmitz’s oeuvre that took a few readings for me to define, and which may on that definition be one of the most endearing things about his work. It’s the spirit of the Golden Age of science fiction and space opera—the idea that to a competent and courageous man or woman, with a goal in their sights, a gun in their pocket, and their wits about them, nothing in the universe is impossible. It’s the idea that authority figures, up to and beyond the level of planetary governments, are competent, foresighted, and concerned with the safety as well as the benefit of their people.

Consider current media. Authority figures exist to oppose the heroes; to offer objections to /necessary but dangerous plot happenstances/–objections that may or may not have a basis in reality, but objections that do not come with solutions. They are then to be overridden and embarassed, or simply ignored (especially if the hero, as per the author, doesn’t have a better solution). Consider Top Gun: Maverick. It’s subtle, but it’s still there. At every step of the way, when plot, heroism, and human decency requires a daring (and dangerous, but also necessary) action, the Authority Figure objects.

In the opening of the movie, the Admiral shows up to obstruct Maverick from flying his super-duper fast plane. Why? So he could be shown up and proven wrong as Maverick buzzes him with a sonic boom. The Other Admiral objects to Maverick’s mission plan of flying the Death Star Trench (come on, lol), in under two minutes. Why? So he can be shown up and proven wrong. The Admiral refuses to lauch rescue to retrieve his downed fighters. Why? So he can be shown up and proven wrong. Why? So our heroes can look better. It’s a short-sighted view. An intelligent author would be able to draw a scenario where our heroes look good because they (and we the audience) know how difficult the task at hand is, know that all eyes and hopes are resting on them, know that everything powerful and capable allies can do to help has been done…and through timestorm and laser sword, have swon through.

Intelligent, thoughtful, competent authority figures do not exist in modern media. But once upon a time, back in the days when Man set foot on the moon, they kind of did. And they do here. Authority figures don’t reflexively oppose the heroes doing (random dangerous but necessary acts); they’re at the command post, weighing the pros and cons and providing the heroes with the information and armaments necessary to carry out those acts. After the fact, they may critique or praise, but they don’t actually ever forget that they are not the men in the arena.

Uh, what was I talking about? Oh yes, The Witches of Karres.

Look, it’s a really great book. If anybody in Hollywood had reading comprehension, we’d have had a Federation of the Hub Cinematic Universe decades ago.

Rated: The key word, it turned out, was “PROHIBITED.”

SFF Title Challenge (bingo)

BookForager has a couple of reading challenges up, one of which I stole simply for the purposes of seeing if I could make bingo with just books I’ve already read. Or at least have in my library and could plausibly claim that I can or will, or might, or might have at some time, read.

• Downbelow Station – C. J. Cherryh
• Isle of the Dead – Roger Zelazny
  • The Hills of the Dead – Robert E. Howard
  • Dead Beat – Jim Butcher
  • Dead Men Live – Maxwell Grant (The Shadow #18)
• Wolf and Iron – Gordon Dickson
  • Through Wolf’s Eyes – Jane Linskold
• The Stars My Destination – Alfred Bester
  • The Stars are Ours – Andre Norton
  • The Stars are Also Fire – Poul Anderson
• Library – The only thing that springs to mind is Genevieve Cogman’s The Invisible Library series, which I…I have blogged about before.
• The World Turned Upside Down – anthology edited by David Drake
  • Destroyer of Worlds – Larry Correia
  • The Rebel Worlds – Poul Anderson
  • And for good measure, Edmond “World-Wrecker” Hamilton in general.
• The Witches of Karres – James H. Schmitz
  • The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe – C. S. Lewis
  • What about a Warlock Inspite of Himself? (Christopher Stasheff)
• Fierce – I’m not getting anything on this one without cheating.
  • ….or with cheating, either, it seems.
  • ?
• All the Way Back – Michael Shaara (a short story, but still.)
  • Backup – Jim Butcher
• Side Jobs – Jim Butcher 
• A Song in the Silence – Elizabeth Kerner. 
  • Kjwalll’kje’k’koothai’lll’kje’k – Roger Zelazny, this counts, because it’s about a song, and its singer.
  • The Song of the Lioness – Tamora Pierce (quartet)
• Woods – hm, have to cheat on this one….
  • North Woods Mystery – Maxwell Grant (The Shadow #96)
• Mission to the Stars – A. E. van Vogt (something of a cheat, I haven’t read much of van Vogt’s stuff with the exception of Clane of the Linn and The Selkie, neither of which were his best work.)
• Midnight at the Well of Souls – Hack Chalker (not a typo.) (Do not read.)
  • Durr, Soul Music – Terry Pratchett
• How – Dude, what? At least have the decency to say “when” or “Who Goes There?”
  • Best I can do is Howl’s Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones
• Gate – Hm. I can’t find a plausible answer / a book I am actually familiar with, even with cheating. 
• Life – Argh, ditto.
• In the Bone – Gordon Dickson
  • Can These Bones Live? – Manly Wade Wellman
• Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn – Tad Williamson, the Tolkien-aping, elf-maligning hack.
• Ghost Story – Jim Butcher
• Mission to Universe – Gordon Dickson
  • The Man who Used the Universe – Alan Dean Foster (on the readlist at the Father of Skaith’s recommendation.)
  • If you are noticing a pattern here, it’s because the Golden/Silver Age scifi Grand Masters knew how to craft a title with a sense of wonder attached, and Poul Anderson and Gordon Dickson were at the top of that list.
• A Fire Upon the Deep – Vernor Vinge
  • Fire Logic – Laurie Marks (this book confused me deeply when I first read it. Later I realized it was just that poorly written.)
• The Caves of Steel – Isaac Asimov (Robots series)
  • The Proud Robot – Henry Kuttner
• All the Way Back – A duplicate! But if you’re a HFY person, it’s worth mentioning twice.
  • House of Many Ways – Diana Wynne Jones
• Lost Dorsai – Gordon Dickson
  • Citadel of Lost Souls – Leigh Brackett

The Mandalorian – Eps 1-3 – (Re)Reviewed

Ep 1: “Ok, so, you have to watch The Mandalorian.”
“The Mandalorian. You know, I can’t believe you! Why are you even watching that–that–garbage!? You know it’s bad. You know what Disney has done to Star Wars.”
“No, it’s actually surprisingly decent.”
“…”
“It is!”
“How can it be Star Wars when it ain’t even got none of the original people in it?”
“What? Look, just watch this gunfight at the end. Watch it!”
[…]
“Wait, wait, wait, why does this look like a Western?”
“Yeah!”
“No!”

Ep 2: “Look, it’s Baby Yoda.”
“Oh my gosh are you buying into that Baby Yoda cr–craziness? It’s aaaaaall over Facebook. All the time. Baby Yoda. Baby Yoda. Baby Yoda. Gah! It’s annoying! What is the big deal with Baby Yoda!?”
“People like Star Wars when it’s done even, y’know, half-way decently well!”
“Baby Yoda. Oh gosh. I can’t believe you.”
“Heh, see, he’s chasing the frog thing. And Mando tells him to spit it out. ’cause, y’know, babies.”
“Oh [hork], he ate it!?”
“You’re acting as though my niece did not just try to eat a dead fly off the windowsill.”
“…that was only once!”
“And look at the Jawas! I always liked the Jawas!”
“I can’t believe you.”
“You gotta watch the whole thing, there’s a bit where he’s fighting this creature and he goes through each of his weapons–he goes through his rifle, and then his sidearm, and then his flamethrower, and then the mud-horn is y’know, getting ready for the charge and he’s like all beaten-up and on one knee, and all he can do is pull out his knife and get ready for it–and he’s so tired and his hands are shaking, and so he has to steady the knife with both hands as the creature is barreling down on him. It’s awesome.”
“…I don’t get it.”
“…y’know, we can always watch some little Barbie Disney Princess movie if you like instead.”
“Shut up.”
“We can watch My Little Pony!”
“SHUT UP.”

Ep 3: “Wait, so he never takes his helmet off?”
“This is the way.”
“His skin must be horrible.”
“…”
“I mean, imagine if he has dandruff. His hair must be sooo greasy and then he has to keep putting the same helmet back on again. It would never get a chance to get better. Ew.”
“…”
“Maybe he has like a beanie or something he wears under it and he can change that out. Like a helmet liner. Do they have helmet liners? Why are you looking at me like that? He’s the one who said he don’t ever take his helmet off!”
“SO THE GUNFIGHT HERE IS REALLY COOL, YEAH?”
“Yeah, it’s okay. But it’s still not as good as real Star Wars.”
“It’s the best we’re gonna get, and they were making an effort. They’re actively trying to do the story right, and, and, when they do insult your intelligence, it’s unintentional.”
“But there’s no lightsabers. It can’t really be Star Wars without lightsabers!”
“Star Wars is technically–”
“It ain’t Star Wars unless it’s the original movies with the original cast, with the original director making it.”
“The movies had different directors.”
“You know what I mean! No lightsabers, no Star Wars! No George Lucas!”
“Star Wars is science fiction. You don’t need lightsabers. You just need spaceships and blasters. And George Lucas sold out to Disney for four billion dollars.”
“Hmph. And also! There’s no Jedi. And there’s no Luke or Leia. Or Han.”
“You have Mando! And Baby Yoda! They are introducing new characters to Expand the Universe! And
can you imagine how they’d screw it up if they did have Luke and Leia?”
“Oh. Well. Yeah.”
“And Baby Yoda is very cute.”
“It looks realllllllly fake.”
“Yeah, it really does.”

I got Porlocked

Go tell the Spartans:
Where the path of the fury takes us,
Though foundation and empire shatter
And the stars asunder wrend,
Til the mountains of mourning crumble
And a fire is upon the deep,
Til the shards of honor are gathered
And the forever war is won,
The guns of Avalon go silent
And the long patrol come home,
Ours is the fury--a high crusade-- 
To bring in the steel with our brothers in arms.
Soldier, ask not, lest darkness fall,
Of unfinished tales or a dry, quiet war.
For us the living, sum the cold equations,
Counting the cost of the human edge.
If the price of the stars 
Be the broken sword,
If the price of the stars
Be the rebel worlds,
If the price of the stars
Be the demon breed,
By God, we have paid it dear!

send help

The only positive about this is that I stayed under budget: 12$ total.

• The Silver Chair – C. S. Lewis
• The Prince – Machiavelli
• Star Rangers – Andre Norton
• Dorsai! – Gordon R. Dickson
• The Blue Sword – Robin McKinley (THE ONE WITH THE AWESOME COVER…..I may consider donating this to the homeschool group but seriously, a) those guys probably wouldn’t read it anyway, b) their mothers probably wouldn’t let them read it, either. Also, c) THATS AN AWESOME COVER I DON’T WANT TO LET IT OUT OF MY HANDS.)
• The Defiant Agents – Andre Norton
• The Metal Monster – A. Merritt
• This Fortress World – James Gunn
• The Best of Leigh Brackett – as edited by Edmond Hamilton
• The Black Arrow – Robert Louis Stevenson, because.
• The Thorn Birds – Colleen McCullough (for The Mother of Skaith, who loves the movie, although honestly I may have already bought her a copy….)
• A compilation of Weird Tales edited by Marvin Kaye

I also bought, in the interests of providing more books for the homeschool group to ignore:

• Star Ka’at – Andre Norton (a duo with the previously acquired Star Ka’at World)
• Just-So Stories – Rudyard Kipling

QuikReview: Oblivion (2013)

So I watched Oblivion, a 2013 movie scifi movie starring predominantly Tom Cruise.

Now, I’ve opined at length as to the fact that straight scifi movies tend not to be very good. This is because a) filmmakers are stupid, b) they think their audiences are stupid, too. Most SF movies only achieve greatness synthetically, by cribbing off other genres, especially Westerns, but occasionally also horror, or even war-stories. (Pssst, has anyone noticed that Aliens is actually a Western? Everyone thinks it’s an action movie, but it’s got the Red Injuns, the cocky cavalry detachment with the inexperienced leader and the experienced and knowledgeable civilians….)

Anyway, much to my surprise, Oblivion is a straight scifi movie, and it’s….good! It has a simple and unexceptional but solid plot, and it relies on its characters and worldbuilding to reveal that plot point by point and–crucially–twist by twist (there’s a reveal about halfway through that made me actually sit up and grin.) Now, at a certain point it largely gives up on the thoughtful, measured approach and leans hard into the by-golly-I-have-an-explodey-things-budget-and-I’m-gonna-use-it syndrome, but please note I said “leans” not “dives” and entirely omitted “headlong.” The second half of the movie had more than enough built-up good will to keep my attention, but the thing with scifi movies is that they should never try to explain themselves out loud. See a), above. This movie did very, very well when it showed its protagonist–and its audience–what was going on; it only started to fumble when it switched over to telling.

What is there to show, then? Well, Tom Cruise is Jack Harper, Tech-49, who with his communications officer/lover/partner Vika, are the last humans left on Earth after an absolutely devastating war with the alien Scavs that, among other things, destroyed the moon. Most of the human population is on Titan, and some of it is on the orbital space station, the Tet. They have been mind-wiped prior to their mission, because….

Jack maintains the drone fleet that protects the ocean-water-sucking thingies that are destroying what’s left of the earth for power. (Why not just mine some comets, asks no screenwriter ever.) There are still some remnant Scavs on Earth that attack the drones and the power platforms. Vika is his mission control and interface with Command. The two are an effective team, but there are still some conflicts. Jack has dreams of the future and thoughts of the past; Vika resolutely suppresses such things. Jack has a relaxed view of orders and is fully aware that Command has them on a very long leash; Vika has a much stronger belief in regulations.

And then, a signal beamed from Earth brings an ancient spacecraft back to ground….a spacecraft containing living human crewmembers. Living, that is, until Jack’s own drones destroy all but one of the sleep-pods, utterly ignoring his orders to stand down. The sole survivor is Julia, a woman who refuses to reveal anything more to Jack, Vika, or Command until she retrieves the flight recorder from her ship…and shows them the truth. At about this point, Morgan Freeman also enters the picture, and I do have to ask: if Earth is that destroyed, where’d his cigars come from?

And so it goes with the movie, having accumulated this many questions, starting to tip over into revealing the answers (except the one about the cigars.) And so it goes, with the one problem that it reveals rather too many answers and in rather too bald-face a manner for my views.

Other good stuff: the cinematography of this film is really good. Like, I watched it entirely on my phone and I was watching for those little triggering points that normally break my suspension of disbelief (s/a: mysterious, additional light sources when there should not be light sources), and I noticed how good it was. Apparently a chunk of the movie was filmed on location….in Iceland, lending a barren, surreal, beautiful backdrop that works very well indeed. The sets and designs are also very good. Tom Cruise does an expert job as the personable, handsome hero; Morgan Freeman, well, Morgan-Freemans his way through dialogue that is 99% exposition as only Morgan Freeman can or could. Andrea Riseborough and Olga Kurylenko are incredibly outmatched in this movie, talent-wise, which is a shame, but they do their best and, in Riseborough’s case, mostly match up to the challenge.

Okay so, although I’ve spent a long while in this review complaining about the movie when it shifts focus to the action, I will also state that the action scenes themselves are largely quite good….at first, when they don’t involve humans. The drones are an incredible threat / weapon / ally, and  it’s an annoying waste of potential that the movie ends up ultimately wimping out and choosing the cheap (explodey) way of making those bits be exciting. That being said, the cinematography still makes everything look good, the characterization makes them be tense and engaging, and, yeah, it’s pretty good.

Overall, I do think that the movie could have been better if it maintained a better balance between its initial, more thoughtful tone and the faster-paced finale (honestly, delete half the expository dialogue and you wouldn’t have to change another thing else), I still have to admit straight-up that, yeah, it’s pretty good.

Rated: Oh wow, you’re in luck, Julie. There’s two of them for you now!