It Doesn't Have To Be Right…

… it just has to sound plausible


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Top ten space opera films

You know when someone on-line puts together a list – especially for films – and not only do you disagree with the choices they’ve made, but whether or not their choices actually qualify for the list in the first place? Well, someone did that recently with a “top ten space opera movies” list, and half the films on it weren’t even space opera. So here is a proper list of ten space opera films.

Of course, first of all you must define what you mean by “space opera”. According to Wikipedia, it is science fiction “that emphasizes romantic, often melodramatic adventure, set mainly or entirely in outer space, generally involving conflict between opponents possessing advanced technologies and abilities”. For the purposes of my list, I will be even more specific. A space opera must feature interstellar starships, at least one polity that rules tens or hundreds or thousands of star systems (preferably an empire), does not feature projectile weapons, and has some alien races. The exemplar would, of course, be the Star Wars series.

There are a great number of sf films which fit the above definition. Unfortunately, many of them are dreadful. Such as The Humanoid (Aldo Lado, 1979), an Italian rip-off of Star Wars which features Richard Kiel in the title role. Or Starcrash (Luigi Cozzi, 1978), also Italian, which contains the immortal line, “Imperial battleship, stop the flow of time!” There are other films whose focus only implies the existence of space opera characteristics somewhere off-stage, like Stargate (Roland Emmerich, 1994), Barbarella (Roger Vadim, 1968) or even Forbidden Planet (Fred M Wilcox, 1956).

I have not, it must be admitted, seen every film ever made which might qualify as space opera. I have, however, seen a large number of them – both good and appalling. The following ten, I think, are films which clearly meet all of the defined criteria, although perhaps not always in an obvious way. Not all of them, however, were marketed as space opera movies.

Battle Beyond the Stars (Jimmy T Murikami, 1980), makes no effort to hide its inspirations – it’s ripping off Star Wars and The Magnificent Seven Seven Samurai. Nonetheless, there’s much to be enjoyed in it, although none of it can really be taken seriously: the bra-shaped spaceship flown by Richard Thomas, Sybil Danning’s constant double entendres, George Peppard being quite plainly pissed throughout, and Robert Vaughn simply reprising his role from The Magnificent Seven. The ending, it has to be said, does look pretty cheap, but there are plenty of fun moments during the hour and a half leading up to that point.

The Chronicles Of Riddick (David N Twohy, 2004) was ostensibly the sequel to Pitch Black, though the only thing they actually have in common is the title character. It’s more Warhammer 40k than your actual space opera, but still close enough to pass. There’s an over-the-top gothic grandeur to the film’s universe – cathedrals in spaaaace! – but the story is little more than a squirming bucket of space opera clichés. Nonetheless, it manages to entertain throughout its length – even if it’s often inadvertently. You have to wonder, however, how much Judi Dench was paid for her walk-on part…

The Empire Strikes Back (Irvin Kershner, 1980) is generally reckoned to be the best of the six Star Wars films. That’s probably because George Lucas left the direction and script in the hands of people who were actually good at them. I’m not a fan of the Star Wars franchise – the original films or the Expanded Universe media juggernaut – although I have fond memories of the first time I saw the original movie. But still, Star Wars and its sequels are the very definition of cinematic space opera. And we know this because they’ve been ripped off so many times.

The Fifth Element (Luc Besson, 1997) was apparently a childhood project of Besson’s on which he worked for decades before finally actually making. And it shows: much of it probably only makes sense inside Besson’s head. It is gloriously stupid – indeed it often revels in its stupidity – and camp, in as much as camp is not something the French do very well (for proper sf camp, see Flash Gordon (Mike Hodges, 1980)). The one thing The Fifth Element does well – and it’s not a quality normally associated with space operas – is leave you with a big grin on your face when it finishes.

Galaxy of Terror (Bruce Clark, 1981). Well, there had to be at least one obscure film in this list. Like Battle Beyond the Stars, this was a New Worlds film and so designed to cash in on the popularity of a film made by a major Hollywood studio – and in this movie’s case, it was Alien. However, Ridley Scott’s Alien is not space opera per se. And for much of its length, Galaxy of Terror doesn’t appear to be. But its ending drags it firmly into space opera territory, given that it’s all to do with some sort of interstellar polity and the quest for a new leader. The special effects are somewhat dated, and the monsters look very rubbery, but the film still has plenty of, well, charm.

Space Truckers (Stuart Gordon, 1996) is a film it’s difficult to say anything nice about as it’s pretty crap. It’s certainly space opera – it has lots of aliens in it, and Dennis Hopper and Stephen Dorff play the crew of an independent tramp space freighter. Nevertheless, treasure the film for Charles Dance’s performance as the villain – he chews the scenery with a insouciant gusto only British thesps are capable of, and also loses body-parts at an embarrassing rate.

Spacehunter: Adventures in Forbidden Zone (Lamont Johnson, 1983) is perhaps best described as Mad Max 2 meets Barbarella, which doesn’t initially suggest much in the way of space opera qualifying characteristics. And given that the story takes place on a single planet, it doesn’t much feel like a space opera film either. But it’s close enough. Ernie Hudson embarrasses as sidekick to Peter Strauss’ title role, but it is Michael Ironside as Overdog, one of the few US actors capable of taking great bites from scenery, who stands out.

Star Trek 5: The Final Frontier (William Shatner, 1989) may well be the most contentious choice on this list. But of all the Trek films it’s the most obviously space operatic – from its opening on a planet where alien scum and villainy congregate to its final confrontation with, er, god. There are those who foolishly think The Wrath of Khan is the best Trek film, but they’re quite clearly wrong. It’s just a submarines in space film, and quite frankly those sorts of movies are much, much better when they feature actual submarines. The Final Frontier is never more than a snigger away from collapsing into farce, and the fact that it never quite does only proves it is proper space opera.

Starship Troopers 1 – 3 (Paul Verhoeven, 1997; Phil Tippett, 2004; Edward Neumeier, 2008). The first is a superb spoof of Heinlein’s execrable novel. The second, subtitled ‘Hero of the Federation’, is not very good and has a plot a little too close to The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982) for comfort. The third – ‘Marauder’ – completely transcends its badness with its gleefully camp fascism, Casper Van Dien reprising his role from the first film with a cheesy knowing grin throughout, and Jolene Blalock playing the best Sigourney Weaver since Alien: Resurrection.

Space opera as a cinematic genre is never going to produce truly excellent films – or even good ones – as should be obvious from the above list. In fact, it is more likely to produce embarrassingly bad ones – such as the incoherent Cosmos: War of the Planets, dull Soldier or confusing Supernova. There are some movies which might have sneaked in, had I been a little more flexible in my definition, such as Dune (though it’s really stretching a point to call it space opera), Serenity (which takes place in a single planetary system), In the Dust of the Stars (AKA Im Staub der Sterne: excellent but bonkers East German sf, but not quite space opera enough), or Humanoid Woman (AKA Cherez ternii k zvyozdam: absolutely mad Russian sf film – or so I assume from the badly-butchered English-language edit I’ve seen, though I am told the original Russian version is actually very good).

No doubt I have missed off some obvious films, but at least I think the ten I’ve chosen actually are space opera. Sort of.


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The wonders of science fiction are not the wonders of science

There has been some discussion of late of the role science fiction might play in inspiring science – see Damien G Walter’s piece here, Cheryl Morgan’s here, and Mark Charan Newton’s here. The argument being that, allegedly, innovators read science fiction, or many scientists chose their careers because of science fiction, and so the genre is assumed to have a very real influence on the future of science, technology and engineering.

I don’t buy it.

For one thing, most present-day science fiction has very little real science in it. Space opera, arguably the most visible form of sf, has almost none at all. It’s little more than space adventure stories. Which is not to say, of course, that space opera in any way epitomises the genre. However, what it does do is associate outrageous, non-realistic ideas in science or technology with science fiction. So when someone comes up with such an idea, it’s immediately labelled “science fiction”. Sf is not a tool for innovation, it is a licence to imagine, a legitimisation of blue-sky thinking. It suggests the unrealistic is feasible and/or desirable, it makes it palatable.

Take the example of a crewed base on the Moon. It has been the dream of NASA and space enthusiasts since the 1950s, if not earlier. Had the Apollo programme continued as originally planned, it might even had happened. Now it’s back on the space exploration agenda – or rather, it’s back in the public arena of space exploration. But there have been remarkably few science fiction novels published in the past fifteen years about such an endeavour. Sf novels set on a colonised Moon, yes; but about colonising the Moon? No.

Before Apollo, there were a number of sf novels published about the landing on the Moon – e.g., Jeff Sutton’s First On The Moon, Charles Eric Maine’s High Vacuum, or Hank Searle’s The Pilgrim Project. But even then they comprised only a small fraction of the genre’s output, and they were as much inspired by actual real studies on – and real work towards – Moon landings as they were by pure genre speculation. The truly speculative lunar landing novels had been written decades earlier; whereas the actual science of space exploration fed back into the sf of the 1950s – not that it was depicted especially accurately, it must be admitted.

Science fiction reflects the ambitions of its time. Some of it may speculate about the concerns of its time. Some of those concerns may be scientific, but if science fiction has one true role it is as a licence to free the imagination. It is a label that can be applied to ideas in the real world which are not really scientific, though they may involve science or technology. This, however, can swing both ways – both putting down innovation, as well as encouraging it.

It’s not science fiction which inspires innovation, it’s imagination. And that’s not something science fiction has a monopoly on.


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It’s all go round here

Ever have one of those days where you’re busy all the time but never seem to get anything done? I’ve had a few weeks like that. Possibly because I have so many things on the go – and a day job as well – that though I chip away at each individual one I don’t actually get close to the finish on any of them. Such as…

Editing
Rocket Science – so far this has not proven as time-consuming as I had expected. But reading submissions, making decisions on them, and then replying to the writers does take time. As does posting regularly to the Rocket Science News blog.

Writing
I’m still waiting for word back on my hard sf space opera novel treatment, Hard Vacuum. That’s never much fun. Fingers crossed.

I have four stories due out in anthologies before the end of the year, or early next year:

‘Dancing the Skies’ in The Monster Book for Girls, edited by Terry Grimwood (theExaggeratedPress)
‘Wunderwaffe’ in Vivisepulture, edited by Andy Remic (Anarchy Press)
‘Far Voyager’ in Postscripts winter 2011/2012 (as yet untitled), edited by Peter Crowther and Nick Gevers (PS Publishing)
‘The Way The World Works’ in Where Are We Going?, edited by Allen Ashley (Eibonvale Press)

‘Dancing the Skies’ is the Spitfire/ATA story, for those who remember my tweets on the topic (see also here). ‘Wunderwaffe’ is about Nazi occult science – well, sort of. ‘The Way The World Works’ is the infamous bathypunk story, inspired by this. And ‘Far Voyager’ is the third in a series of stories exploring alternate histories of the Space Race. See also ‘Barker’ in the British Fantasy Society Journal Winter 2010 and ‘The Old Man of the Sea of Dreams‘.

I’m also working on a further two alt space stories, one about a mission to Mars and another sort of about the Mercury programme. Also currently being worked on is a Marxist space opera, rejoicing in the title of ‘Spatial Cultural-Historical Units of Great Importance’, which I stole from a Wikipedia article I found while reading up on on spomeniks (someone keeps on chopping and changing the articles on the monuments of the ex-Yugoslavia, which makes it difficult to link to them).

I have another anti-capitalism story – see ‘Through the Eye of a Needle‘ and ‘The Contributors‘ – that really needs revisiting as the current draft doesn’t quite work. Not to mention at least half a dozen stories in the “bottom drawer”, which will need revisiting at some point. I’m also working on a series of flash fiction pieces: the first has already been bounced by three magazines, and the second is almost ready to start sending out. I have two stories currently sitting on editors’ desks, waiting for a response. And one of these days, I really must write another Euripidean Space story – see ‘Thicker than Water‘ and ‘A Cold Dish‘.

Finally close to a final draft is the notorious moon base novella, ‘Adrift on the Sea of Rains’, which has taken humungous amounts of research – the bibliography currently stands at twenty books and five DVDs. I once described it as “Cormac McCarthy meets Neil Armstrong”, which sort of kind of maybe fits. I have another novella also plotted out, but have yet to start writing it. As soon as ‘Adrift on the Sea of Rains’ is done, I will.

Poetry
Unfortunately, I’ve let this lapse over the last few months. I really need to go back to some of the poems I posted to sferse, and see if they can be cleaned up and submitted. I think I’ll wait until Rocket Science is put to bed first, though.

Reviewing
SF Mistressworks – I’m having to chose what I read carefully since at least once or twice a month one of the books must be suitable for a review on SF Mistressworks. This is not a hardship.

Space Books – on the other hand, has not been updated in a while. I have three pieces that I need to work on for it, but have yet to squeeze in time to do so. Soon, I hope.

SFF Chronicles – I’ve posted two new reviews there recently: the excellent Solitaire by Kelley Eskridge (here), and the not-so-good Heaven’s Shadow by David S Goyer & Michael Cassutt (here). I have several other books already lined up for review there, including Engineering Infinity and Leviathan Wakes.

Interzone – every couple of months, a book drops through the letter box which I have to read for Interzone. At the moment, it’s Debris by Jo Anderton, the first of a space opera trilogy from Angry Robot. It looks quite interesting.

It Doesn’t Have To Be Right… – well, there’s this year’s reading challenge (see here), which has been going well. August’s book was Spin State by Chris Moriarty, which I thought very good. Review to appear here soon-ish. I also have a piece on Lyda Morehouse’s Resurrection Code lined up. And one of these days I really must gather together my notes on L Timmel Duchamp’s Marq’ssan Cycle and write something on the books.

It’s fortunate the day job is only four days a week, though I’m often busier on the three days I’m at home. And I do this by choice. Someone please tell me why…


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Science fiction and the madden heap

I was watching Smiley-seque BBC2 drama Page Eight last night, which bases its plot on the notion that the prime minister was aware of the US practice of covertly torturing people, and it occurred to me it was a story driven by moral outrage. This is not something that’s typically in short supply. Just look at the various responses to the recent riots. There is plenty of moral outrage in real life; there is also a lot of it in assorted entertainment media and modes of fiction.

But not, I realised, in science fiction.

Which is odd, because moral outrage is a characteristic of the middle classes, and science fiction is a middle class genre. (Fantasy, I think, was once higher, but was democratized by Tolkien.) It would be reasonable to expect moral outrage to be a common fuel in genre story-engines, but it is, in fact, surprisingly rare. Perhaps this is because science fiction is an inherently optimistic genre. It presupposes that problems have solutions, that mysteries can be explained; that the universe itself is open to explanation and eventual exploitation. Science fiction stories are about the things we can control, or they are about the process of gaining control over them.

This last may be why there is a preponderance of right-leaning science fiction. Admittedly, control can be democratic, egalitarian and universal; it does not need to be restricted to the privileged. It could be argued that dramatic tension necessitates the limiting of control to a select few – either to narrate their defence of it against an external threat, or watch as it’s wrested from them by some group better-suited to wield it. Such battles are usually driven by survival or jealousy. The rewards are typically limited to the privileged, but it’s everyone else who suffers. So the unprivileged, of course, have good reason to be fatalistic. But science fiction is not a fatalistic genre – and it would need to be to make effective use of moral outrage. The genre lionises the privileged far more than mimetic fiction does, and that is why it’s not a fatalistic genre.

True, science fiction is fond of playing Cassandra – and hindsight has always provided sharper vision than foresight – but all that doom-saying does admit of a solution. Something can be done. Or perhaps, something should be done. These are problems of the future – over-population, climate change, biosphere collapse, asteroid strike, etc. – they are not the crimes of today. They may have been created by the actions of the past and present, but as far as science fiction is concerned, the problem which requires fixing lies ahead of us. The message is: Act soon, because we can avert it. The message is: let us take control now, let us impose our will on the times ahead.

There are those who say science fiction’s only purpose is to entertain. Which is a bit like saying the purpose of economics is to reward greed, or the purpose of politics is to rationalise bad policies. Art, in any media, should always aspire to more than mere escapism. That it fails to do so does not invalidate that aspiration.

(Apologies for the bad pun in this rant’s title.)


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Putting the science back in science fiction

Earlier this week, NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center and US publisher Tor/Forge issued a press release announcing they would work together to develop and publish “NASA-inspired works of fiction”. Or, as the release put it, they would work together on “a series of science based, commercial fiction books … around concepts pertinent to the current and future work of NASA”.

I should be excited about this. I like reading science fiction, I like reading about space exploration. But which is best? There’s only one way to find out…

But, seriously, any sf author worth his or her salt writing on such a topic will do the necessary research anyway. Perhaps they won’t have access to an actual NASA scientist, but they could probably find much of what they need to know on the Internet. And, if not, there’s always that old information-access tech known as “books”.

Of course, this assumes that the Goddard Space Flight Center is merely offering itself as a research resource to Tor/Forge authors, which may not be the case. It could be the reverse: authors acting as ghostwriters for NASA scientists. Or perhaps it’ll be a creative partnership between the two (or however many are involved in the book). The emphasis on “current and future work of NASA” does suggest this is as much a PR exercise for the agency as it is a desire to develop a series of novels which are intended to boost interest in careers in engineering and the sciences.

And yet… Look at science fiction now and its most visible face is that of the escapist space opera. There’s not a lot of science in it, and not much that might cause a reader to think of NASA and its works. While many scientists (and one prominent economist) have pointed to sf as the inspiration for their career choices, and a number of sf writers have been, and are, working scientists… I have to wonder how strong the link between the two is. After all, does historical fiction inspire people to become historians?

So what’s the likely effect of putting the science back in science fiction? It depends, of course, on the books the partnership produces. I suspect that, given the need to produce commercial fiction, we may get something closer to a techno-thriller set on the ISS than Kim Stanley Robinson’s Science in the Capital, or Mars, trilogies. I certainly hope not. I would dearly love to read authentic near-future high-concept science fiction which, as Wikipedia describes Goddard Space Flight Center’s role, is concerned with “increasing knowledge of the Earth, the Solar System, and the Universe via observations from space” and the “scientific investigation, development and operation of space systems, and development of related technologies”.

I recently read Heaven’s Shadow, a 2011 blockbuster sf novel by movie screenwriter David S Goyer (so, of course, the film rights have already been sold for a humungous sum) and television screenwriter (and genre mid-lister) Michael Cassutt. The novel boasts that it accurately describes a near-future space mission to a comet visiting the Solar System. While there are definitely no pointy rockets of yore, or magical anti-gravity spaceships, in the book, and it makes a better attempt at depicting state-of-the-art spacecraft than sf as a genre usually does… Heaven’s Shadow does initially read more like a techno-thriller set in space than an actual science fiction novel.

But I refuse to be pessimistic. Something good could come of this partnership. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to seeing what it produces.


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Not the Hugo

You’ve seen the Hugo Award results, you’ve seen the Not the Booker Award the Guardian runs each year. Obviously, a Not the Hugo Award should be done before the Worldcon hands out its shiny pointy rockets, but… I refuse to accept that Blackout / All Clear is the best genre novel(s) published in the US or UK in 2010. So until the Hugo removes that misleading “best” from the names of its awards, we are obliged to point out where it got it wrong. Again.

And no, I didn’t nominate or vote. But the Hugo Awards do not belong to only those who voted for them. If they want them to be awards for the genre(s), then they need to be open to criticism from those who do not, or will not, involve themselves in the process.

Instead, I shall choose a more deserving winner for the Not the Hugo Award for Novel Most Liked By a Different Group of People to the Hugo Voters. Except I didn’t read every genre novel published in English in 2010. So I need people to nominate titles in the comments.

Off you go…


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Awards! Huh, what are they good for?

So the Hugo results are in and… ho-hum. The Hugo Award for The Nicest Person Who Happened To Have A Novel Published In The Preceding Year went to Connie Willis for a novel so bloated it had to be published in two volumes. But that’s okay, because the nice people in charge of the award fixed it for both of them to be considered as one book on the ballot. We’ll not mention the fact that the book is riddled with historical inaccuracies – I mean, having the Jubilee Line open during World War II? Wtf? That’s an epic research fail.

On the good news front, the whale rape story didn’t win the best novelette category. But it still got shortlisted, which is shameful. Ted Chiang won the best novella because, well, he would, wouldn’t he? The only time he doesn’t get shortlisted is when he withdraws his stories from consideration. He’s good, but he doesn’t shit gold and it’s about time the Hugo voters recognised that. The short story category was especially weak this year, and the award went to the current VP of the SFWA. This may be a coincidence. It probably is.

As for the rest of categories… I don’t understand the purpose of the two editor awards, or the fan writer and fanzine ones. As for the dramatic presentation awards, well, both movies and televisions have their own awards and they spend a lot more money on them than the Hugo does. Best Related Book? Why not just have Best Work of Criticism? And drop the Best Graphic Story too. Most of the ones that get nominated aren’t science fiction anyway.

In fact, why not limit the Hugos to actual, well, science fiction? Fantasy has its own awards. Let them hand them out to their nice people. Keep the Hugos for sf only. Written sf, and writings about sf. And give it to works, not people – no matter how nice they are.

(With apologies to Edwin Starr.)


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The NPR 100

Lists, lists, lists, lists. Everyone likes lists. NPR are doing one here. They have cunningly called it a “Top-100 Science Fiction, Fantasy Titles”, which can mean either favourite or best. First they asked people to nominate titles. Then they asked Giant SF Brains Gary K Wolfe, Farah Mendlesohn and John Clute to whittle down those picked to a list of  “several hundred” titles on which people can vote. It is a… strange list. The usual suspects are there, of course. There are, happily, a number of women sf writers, though less than expected – I make it 22%.

Anyway, here is the list. Annotated. I’ve also put in bold those I’ve read, and in italics those I have on the TBR.

The Acts Of Caine Series, by Matthew Woodring Stover – I’ve never even heard of these.
The Algebraist, by Iain M Banks – not his best book by a long shot, not even his best non-Culture novel either.
Altered Carbon, by Richard Morgan – that Morgan’s debut novel was chosen doesn’t surprise, though I’d have said Black Man is the better novel.
American Gods, by Neil Gaiman – I don’t get the appeal of Gaiman.
Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman – see above.
Anathem, by Neal Stephenson – I don’t much understand the appeal of Stephenson, either.
Animal Farm, by George Orwell – this is a bit, well, slight, isn’t it?
The Anubis Gates, by Tim Powers – I’d say this is a contender.
Armor, by John Steakley – really?
The Baroque Cycle, by Neal Stephenson – I read first two and then gave up.
Battlefield Earth, by L Ron Hubbard – probably the worst sf book ever written, liked only by Scientologists and idiots.
Beggars In Spain, by Nancy Kress – I’ve read the novella, but never the novels.
The Belgariad, by David Eddings – I read the first last year; I am thirty-five years too old to think these books are good.
The Black Company Series, by Glen Cook – never read any of them.
The Black Jewels Series, by Anne Bishop – never heard of them.
The Book Of The New Sun, by Gene Wolfe – excellent, though The Fifth Head of Cerberus I think is better.
Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley – I didn’t like it when I read, and I fail to understand why it is considered a classic.
Bridge Of Birds, by Barry Hughart – never read it.
The Callahan’s Series, by Spider Robinson – I’ve read a few of these; one of my pet hates is the “stories told by regulars in a bar” type of story; plus, these are really quite rubbish.
A Canticle For Leibowitz, by Walter M Miller – never read it.
The Cat Who Walked Through Walls, by Robert Heinlein – well, RAH on the list somewhere is no surprise: he casts a giant shadow across the genre – but isn’t this one of his later crap books?
Cat’s Cradle , by Kurt Vonnegut – never read it.
The Caves Of Steel, by Isaac Asimov – another giant of sf, but one I consider among the most over-rated writers in the genre. He is the McDonald’s of sf, and his books are all burgers.
The Change Series, by SM Stirling – I know nothing about this series.
Childhood’s End, by Arthur C Clarke – one of Clarke’s better ones, but not my first choice.
Children Of God, by Mary Doria Russell – not as good as The Sparrow, and that I thought was somewhat overrated.
The Chronicles Of Amber, by Roger Zelazny – they started well enough, but they tailed off towards the end.
The Chronicles Of Thomas Covenant, The Unbeliever, by Stephen R Donaldson – I’m not a big fan of epic fantasy, and I suspect these would not survive a reread.
The City And The City, by China Miéville – a good novel, and a multi-award winner.
City And The Stars, by Arthur C Clarke – also one of Clarke’s better ones.
A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess – Burgess wrote several novels that were much better, though they weren’t genre.
The Codex Alera Series, by Jim Butcher – never read them.
The Coldfire Trilogy, by CS Friedman – have never read anything by Friedman.
The Commonwealth Saga, by Peter F Hamilton – I did read his Night’s Dawn trilogy –  it was enough.
The Company Wars, by CJ Cherryh – I like Cherryh’s fiction, but I’d sooner chose individual books.
The Conan The Barbarian Series, by Robert Howard – I’ve read loads of these but I’ve no idea how many; but… they’re pulp: the character has transcended his origin, the stories haven’t.
Contact, by Carl Sagan – I suspect the popularity of this rests more on its author than the book itself.
Cryptonomicon, by Neal Stephenson – I remember enjoying this; mostly.
The Crystal Cave, by Mary Stewart – never read it.
The Culture Series, by Iain M Banks – an excellent series, but the individual books are variable; I’d sooner have voted for one of the books.
The Dark Tower Series, by Stephen King – never read it.
The Day of Triffids, by John Wyndham – never read it.
Deathbird Stories, by Harlan Ellison – anoterh sf giant I consider greatly overrated.
The Deed of Paksennarion Trilogy, by Elizabeth Moon – never read it.
The Demolished Man, by Alfred Bester – I hated this book when I read it.
The Deverry Cycle, by Katharine Kerr – never read it.
Dhalgren, by Samuel R. Delany – one of my favourite sf novels, definitely a classic.
The Diamond Age, by Neal Stephenson – I seem to remember this being better than Snow Crash.
The Difference Engine, by William Gibson & Bruce Sterling – individually, both have written better books.
The Dispossessed, by Ursula K LeGuin – a bona fide sf classic.
Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?, by Philip K Dick – to be honest, I prefer the film.
Don’t Bite The Sun, by Tanith Lee – never read it.
Doomsday Book, by Connie Willis – it was okay, I guess; I don’t understand all this award-love Willis receives.
Dragonflight, by Anne McCaffrey – never read any of them.
Dreamsnake, by Vonda McIntyre – never read it.
The Dune Chronicles, by Frank Herbert – the prose in Dune may not be very good, but it’s still the premier piece of world-building in the genre and Paul Atreides is the best teenage special snowflake in literature; the later books are better written; the sequels by Kevin J Anderson and Brian Herbert are about as literate as used toilet paper.
Earth, by David Brin – this is a bloated techno-thriller.
Earth Abides, by George R Stewart – it was okay, I guess; though it hasn’t aged well.
The Eisenhorn Omnibus, by Dan Abnett – these are Warhammer books, right?
The Elric Saga, by Michael Moorcock – I’ve read some of these but I don’t recall which – like Conan, Elric has transcended his pulp origin but many of the books haven’t.
Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card – never read it, never will.
Eon, by Greg Bear – a neat central premise, I seem to recall, spoiled by clumsy geopolitics and a dull story.
The Eyes Of The Dragon, by Stephen King – never read it.
The Eyre Affair, by Jasper Fforde – I thought this was terrible: a neat idea, but really badly written.
The Faded Sun Trilogy, by CJ Cherryh – I loved this when I was a teenager, but I wouldn’t call it a favourite now.
Fafhrd & The Gray Mouser Series, by Fritz Leiber – never read it.
Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury – hated it; the film is far superior.
The Farseer Trilogy, by Robin Hobb – read the first one, and thought it readable but dull.
The Female Man, by Joanna Russ – another bona fide classic; a recent reread only increased my admiration of it.
The Fionavar Tapestry Trilogy, by Guy Gavriel Kay – I caguely recall these as being interesting, if a bit bland, secondary world fantasies.
A Fire Upon The Deep, by Vernor Vinge – a bit of an uneven work, but I think this qualifies.
The First Law Trilogy, by Joe Abercrombie – read the first book and was unimpressed.
Flowers For Algernon, by Daniel Keyes – a classic, certainly.
The Foreigner Series, by CJ Cherryh – read the first one, and have the next eight on the TBR; solid work, but not worthy of a place on the Top 100.
The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman – another classic.
The Foundation Trilogy, by Isaac Asimov – I think my opinion on this is known: it is, in a word, shit.
Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley – never actually read it (though I have seen lots of films).
The Gaea Trilogy, by John Varley – I much prefer his Eight Worlds fiction.
The Gap Series, by Stephen R Donaldson – this is a superior space opera, though it is grim and not entirely successful.
The Gate To Women’s Country, by Sheri S Tepper – never read it.
Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett – never read it.
The Gone-Away World, by Nick Harkaway – I started it, but gave upl one day I will return to it.
The Gormenghast Trilogy, by Mervyn Peake – one day I will read it.
Grass, by Sheri S Tepper – I can never remember what actually happens in this novel.
Gravity’s Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon – is on the TBR.
The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood – another classic.
Hard-Boiled Wonderland And The End of The World, by Haruki Murakami – never read it.
The Heechee Saga, by Frederik Pohl – like many series, it’s diminishing returns with each additional book; Gateway is good, but the rest?
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, by Douglas Adams – mildly amusing, I suppose.
The Hollows Series, by Kim Harrison – never heard of them; urban fantasy, is it?
House Of Leaves, by Mark Danielewski – is on the TBR.
The Hyperion Cantos, by Dan Simmons – these are very good, though I do need to reread them sometime.
I Am Legend, by Richard Matheson – was okay, I suppose.
I, Robot, by Isaac Asimov – nope.
The Illuminatus! Trilogy, by Robert Shea & Robert Anton Wilson – read the first, but gave up.
The Illustrated Man, by Ray Bradbury – never read it.
The Incarnations Of Immortality Series, by Piers Anthony – have read a couple of these, though I forget which; I remember them as light, forgettable reads – hardly the qualities of a classic.
The Inheritance Trilogy, by NK Jemisin – this trilogy isn’t even completed yet – how can it be a classic?
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke – is on the TBR.
A Journey To The Center Of The Earth, by Jules Verne – seen the film, not read the book.
Kindred, by Octavia Butler – is on the TBR.
The Kingkiller Chronicles, by Patrick Rothfuss – another trilogy that has yet to be completed…
Kraken, by China Mieville – is on the TBR.
The Kushiel’s Legacy Series, by Jacqueline Carey – never read it.
Last Call, by Tim Powers – I remember this as being entertaining, but I don’t think I’d call it Top 100 material.
The Last Coin, by James P Blaylock – never read it.
The Last Herald Mage Trilogy, by Mercedes Lackey – never read it.
The Last Unicorn, by Peter S Beagle – never read it.
The Lathe Of Heaven, by Ursula K LeGuin – I wasn’t overly taken with this one when I read it.
The Left Hand Of Darkness, by Ursula K LeGuin – definitely a classic.
The Legend Of Drizzt Series, by RA Salvatore – never read it; but isn’t the bloke who wrote “‘You killed me,’ said the surprised man”?
The Lensman Series, by EE Smith – everyone who nominated this should be ashamed of themselves.
The Liaden Universe Series, by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller – I’ve read some of these but they’re, well, fluff.
The Lies Of Locke Lamora, by Scott Lynch – is on the TBR.
Lilith’s Brood, by Octavia Butler – never read it.
Little, Big, by John Crowley – a classic fantasy, though I think the Ægypt Sequence is much better.
The Liveship Traders Trilogy, by Robin Hobb – never read it.
Lord Of Light, by Roger Zelazny – interesting, possibly borderline Top 100-worthy.
The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy, by JRR Tolkien – not much you can say about this really, is there?
Lord Valentine’s Castle, by Robert Silverberg – entertaining fluff; Silverberg has written much better books.
Lucifer’s Hammer, by Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle – never read it.
Lud-in-the-Mist, by Hope Mirrlees – is on the TBR.
The Magicians, by Lev Grossman – never read it.
The Malazan Book Of The Fallen Series, by Steven Erikson – read the first and gave up; I’m not into reading RPG campaigns.
The Man In The High Castle, by Philip K Dick – one of Dick’s better ones, though I need to reread it.
The Manifold Trilogy, by Stephen Baxter – surprised by this choice: Baxter has written better.
The Mars Trilogy, by Kim Stanley Robinson – a classic of the genre.
The Martian Chronicles, by Ray Bradbury – didn’t like it when I read it; wishy-washy and twee.
Memory And Dream, by Charles de Lint – never read it.
Memory, Sorrow, And Thorn Trilogy, by Tad Williams – never read it.
Mindkiller, by Spider Robinson – never read it.
The Mistborn Series, by Brandon Sanderson – never read it and never will.
The Mists Of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley – never read it.
The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, by Robert Heinlein – is on the TBR (because it’s in the SF Masterworks series)
Mordant’s Need, by Stephen Donaldson – I remember being better than the Thomas covenant books.
More Than Human, by Theodore Sturgeon – is on the TBR.
The Mote In God’s Eye, by Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle – is pretty much indicative of everything that was wrong with best-selling sf in the 1970s.
The Naked Sun, by Isaac Asimov – and again, nope.
The Neanderthal Parallax Trilogy, by Robert J Sawyer – never read it.
Neuromancer, by William Gibson – I’m told this has not aged well, but I plan to reread it soon
Neverwhere, by Neil Gaiman – never read it.
The Newsflesh Trilogy, by Mira Grant – never read it.
The Night’s Dawn Trilogy, by Peter F Hamilton – if classic status were measured by weight, this would be a contender.
Novels Of The Company, by Kage Baker – never read it.
Norstrilia, by Cordwainer Smith – to be honest, I can remember Smith’s short stories much better than his only novel; there may be a reason for that.
The Number Of The Beast, by Robert Heinlein – perhaps the one novel that epitomises RAH’s late bloated crap novel phase.
Old Man’s War, by John Scalzi – never read it.
On Basilisk Station, by David Weber – mildly entertaining fluffy rip-off of Hornblower; top 100? I think not.
The Once And Future King, by TH White – I read it so long ago, I remember nothing of it.
Oryx And Crake, by Margaret Atwood – is on the TBR.
The Otherland Tetralogy, by Tad Williams – never read it.
The Outlander Series, by Diana Gabaldan – never heard of it.
Parable Of The Sower, by Octavia Butler – never read it.
The Passage, by Justin Cronin – last year’s mega-hyped coming-to-a-cinema-near you blockbuster, which started well but then turned dull and derivative; oh, and it’s the first book an unfinished trilogy.
Pattern Recognition, by William Gibson – never read it.
Perdido Street Station, by China Miéville – this was something special when it first appeared, but has time been kind to it?
The Prestige, by Christopher Priest – good, but I wonder if it’s appearance here is more due to the film – because Priest has written better.
The Pride Of Chanur, by CJ Cherryh – it’s nice to see all this love for Cherryh, but a little more variety might have been preferable; there are, after all, other women writers of space opera and hard sf.
The Prince Of Nothing Trilogy, by R Scott Bakker – never read it.
The Princess Bride, by William Goldman – the film is better; this is a list of books.
Rainbows End, by Vernor Vinge – never read it.
Rendezvous With Rama, by Arthur C Clarke – if I had to pick a Clarke, it would be this one – because the central BDO more than makes up for the cardboard characters and dated futurism.
Replay, by Ken Grimwood – a fun book and certainly worth reading… possibly top 100 worthy, I think.
Revelation Space, by Alistair Reynolds – why not the series? Banks got his series on the list – because there are better books in the Revelation space series than this one.
Riddley Walker, by Russell Hoban – never read it.
The Riftwar Saga, by Raymond E Feist – I’m fairly sure I read one of these many, many years ago; I remember nothing about it.
Ringworld, by Larry Niven – unlike the Clarke, I don’t think the central BDO makes up for the novel’s other deficiencies – like a lack of a plot.
The Riverworld Series, by Philip Jose Farmer – the central idea is a good one, though having reread the first book a couple of years ago, I’m less sure about the use to which Farmer puts it.
The Road, by Cormac McCarthy – certainly one of the best-written books on this list.
The Saga Of Pliocene Exile, by Julian May – I remember enjoying these in my teens; one day, perhaps, I will reread them.
The Saga Of Recluce, by LE Modesitt Jr – I have only ever read one Modesitt novel – I had to review it for Interzone: it was pants.
The Sandman Series, by Neil Gaiman – nope.
The Sarantine Mosaic Series, by Guy Gavriel Kay – never read it.
A Scanner Darkly, by Philip K Dick – Dick’s best novel, and a sure-fire classic.
The Scar, by China Miéville – never read it.
The Shannara Trilogy, by Terry Brooks – never read it, never will: they look horribly derivative and twee.
The Shattered Chain Trilogy, by Marion Zimmer Bradley – never read it.
The Silmarillion, by JRR Tolkien – never read it.
The Sirens Of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut – not a big Vonnegut fan, to be honest; it was okay.
Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut – as above.
Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett – never read it.
Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson – when this was published, I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about; I still can’t.
The Snow Queen, by Joan D Vinge – I’m planning to reread this soon, though a recent quick dip into it demonstrated it was a lot more romancey than I’d remembered from my original read all those years ago.
Solaris, by Stanislaw Lem – I suspect I read a bad translation, because this was surprisingly dull; Tarkovsky’s film is greatly superior.
Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury – is on the TBR (because it’s in the Fantasy Masterworks series).
Song for the Basilisk, by Patricia McKillip – never read it.
A Song Of Ice And Fire Series, by George R. R. Martin – I read first three, but I will not be reading the rest – despite all the current hype; I might watch the television series, though.
The Space Trilogy, by CS Lewis – never read it.
The Sparrow, by Mary Doria Russell – I remember the fuss when this was first published; I didn’t get it.
The Stainless Steel Rat Books, by Harry Harrison – I loved these as a kid; I reread the first a year or two ago, and found it absolutely terrible – dreadful, dated, misogynistic crap.
Stand On Zanzibar, by John Brunner – is on the TBR (SF Masterworks series, natch).
The Stand, by Stephen King – never read it.
Stardust, by Neil Gaiman – never read it; seen the film, though.
The Stars My Destination, by Alfred Bester – if I had to pick and early-ish sf novel, it would be this – because its sheer verve more than compensates for its datedness.
Starship Troopers, by Robert Heinlein – a crypto-fascist polemic thinly-disguised as a novel; the film is infinitely superior.
Stations Of The Tide, by Michael Swanwick – a very good novel, though I was mildly disappointed when I reread a few years ago; but as the genre’s premier Southern Gothic sf novel, it is certainly top 100 worthy.
Steel Beach, by John Varley – I like the Eight Worlds, but I wouldn’t say this is the best novel – The Ophiuchi Hotline is.
Stranger In A Strange Land, by Robert Heinlein – I reread this recently; it was awful.
Sunshine, by Robin McKinley – never read it.
The Sword Of Truth, by Terry Goodkind – I read the first book many years ago; I thought it derivative and unimaginative; I’m told the series later turns very weird and offensive.
The Swordspoint Trilogy, by Ellen Kushner – never read it.
The Tales of Alvin Maker, by Orson Scott Card – never read it.
The Temeraire Series, by Naomi Novik – never read it.
The Thrawn Trilogy, by Timothy Zahn – aren’t these, like, shared world? Star Wars? Should they even be on this list?
Tigana, by Guy Gavriel Kay – I remember this as being quite good.
Time Enough For Love, by Robert Heinlein – more late period bloated wankery from RAH; next, please.
The Time Machine, by HG Wells – it never ages.
The Time Traveler’s Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger – never read it; but the film was creepy: he stalks her, folks; that is not good.
To Say Nothing Of The Dog, by Connie Willis – never read it.
The Troy Trilogy, by David Gemmell – never read it.
Ubik, by Philip K Dick – one of his trippier novels: I’m not sure if that makes it good or bad.
The Uplift Saga, by David Brin – if you distilled the story of this series down, it would be quite potent; as it is, it’s a good example of its sort, and perhaps belongs near the bottom of a top 100.
The Valdemar Series, by Mercedes Lackey – never read it.
VALIS, by Philip K Dick – another good Dick, I seem to recall.
Venus On The Half-Shell, by Kilgore Trout/Philip Jose Farmer – wasn’t this just a silly joke/gimmick?
The Vlad Taltos Series, by Steven Brust – never read it.
The Vorkosigan Saga, by Lois McMaster Bujold – I’ve read a couple, they were okay.
The Vurt Trilogy, by Jeff Noon – I read the first one when it was published, but didn’t really get on with it.
The War Of The Worlds, by HG Wells – no one would have believed… yup, a classic.
Watchmen, by Alan Moore – a graphic novel, with superheroes, in a list of sf and fantasy books; it’s good but does it really belong here?
Watership Down, by Richard Adams – the best book about talking rabbits ever written.
The Way Of Kings, by Brandon Sanderson – never read it and never will – why should I support someone who says they’re prejudiced but asks me to respect their prejudice?
Way Station, by Clifford D Simak – I used to be a big Simak fan, but this was never one of my favourites.
We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin – never read it.
The Wheel Of Time Series, by Robert Jordan – these are big, probably about four metres tall if you stacked them one on top of the other; that is the only notable thing about them.
When Gravity Fails, by George Alec Effinger – a possible contender for the top 100, though my memories of it are somewhat hazy.
Wicked, by Gregory Maguire – never read it.
Wild Seed, by Octavia Butler – never read it.
The Windup Girl, by Paolo Bacigalupi – is on the TBR.
World War Z, by Max Brooks – never read it.
The Worm Ouroboros, by ER Eddison – is on the TBR (Fantasy Masterworks series).
The Xanth Series, by Piers Anthony – you must be joking: these pervy books? bad puns and dodgy sexual politics? for shame.
The Yiddish Policeman’s Union, by Michael Chabon – better-written than many other books of its ilk, and with an interesting alternate history… a possible contender.
1632, by Eric Flint – never read it.
1984, by George Orwell – still a classic.
2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C Clarke – the film was better.
20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, by Jules Verne – I think I read a bad translation of this because it was surprisingly dull.

So there you have it. I suspect that when Top 100 is revealed, I will end up grinding my teeth. Again. Oh well.


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Women in sf reading challenge #7: Zoo City, Lauren Beukes

I had originally picked Beukes’ Moxyland as one of my twelve books for this year’s reading challenge, but then I met the author at the Eastercon back in April, and Zoo City won the Arthur C Clarke Award… So I swapped one out for the other, even though the latter says on the back, “File Under URBAN FANTASY”. Although, of course, there was that Clarke Award win, which meant the jury at least felt Zoo City could be read as science fiction. Besides, last month’s book for my reading challenge was Steph Swainston’s The Year of Our War (see here), and I failed to find a way to read that as sf…

Which is all pretty much beside the point, as I’ve now read Zoo City, and I’m happy to count it as one of the twelve books of my reading challenge – and also one of the twelve books by women writers I read during July, my women-only month.

While Zoo City may display the trappings of urban fantasy, it reads chiefly like a cyberpunk novel, a near-future dystopia told from the point of view of a have-not. Who, in this case, is Zinzi December, a recovering addict and ex-journalist who caused her brother’s death, served her sentence, and was “animalled”. In the world of Zoo City, those who have committed crimes find themselves lumbered with animal familiars as manifestations of their guilt. For Zinzi, it is a sloth. In the world of Zoo City, magic also exists – though it’s not the magic of Dungeons & Dragons or your standard identi-kit heroic fantasy. Mashavi feels more like some sort of extra-sensory talent than it does spell-casting or thaumaturgy (although African styles of magic do make several appearances in the book). Zinzi’s mashavi is finding lost things, and it’s what she now does for a living – because the animalled are the dregs of society, and forced to live in derelict buildings in slum areas of the city. The city in this instance is Johannesburg, and there is a very obvious South African flavour to the novel (Beukes is South African).

After her last client is murdered, Zinzi is forced into accepting a type of job she normally avoids: finding a lost person. The missing person is teenager Songweza Radebe, one half, with her brother S’busiso, of pop twins iJusi . The Spector/Cowley-like figure who controls iJusi, Odi Huron, wants Song back without anyone learning of her disappearance. Zinzi may be reluctant to take on the case, but it soon proves to be even more complicated and darker than she had imagined. The climax of the novel, however, is not Song’s re-appearance but the discovery of a heinous plot to which the disappearance was peripherally linked. While the clues were there, that final twist does come as a bit of a surprise. The plot which drives the story for much of its length ends on a positive note, only to kick off another related, and darker, end-game. This, or its reverse,  is a technique I’ve noticed in other crime novels of recent years.

Zoo City reads like noir. It’s a crime novel which happens to be set in an alternate South Africa in which felons have animal familiars and magical talents. Beukes does throw in the odd “found document” which attempts to put a science-fictional gloss on these aspects of her world, but their success is immaterial. The book doesn’t need to be read as sf, and can enjoyed for exactly what it is. Zinzi’s voice dominates the story and, despite Zinzi’s background and some of her more unsavoury activities, Beukes does an excellent job of making her sympathetic. Zoo City is a fast read, but it’s by no means fluffy. I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to (I would normally run a mile, very quickly, from anything labelled “urban fantasy”).

On the front of the paperback edition of Zoo City I bought is a quote from William Gibson: “it feels effortless, utterly accomplished”. He’s right. Zoo City is a polished piece of fiction. For a second novel, it is astonishingly good. I can’t say whether it is better than the books it beat for the Clarke Award, as I’ve not read any of the others. (They were: Monsters of Men, Patrick Ness; The Dervish House, Ian McDonald; Generosity, Richard Powers; Declare, Tim Powers; and Lightborn, Tricia Sullivan.) But certainly Zoo City is a very good book, and not at all an embarrassing winner – which is more than the Nebula Award can say this year…