The Undead at War, by Kevin Long

Kevin Long, who is the author of The Undead At War is the same person as the Republibot 3.0 who wrote Ice Cream and Venom, which I reviewed a while back (I note that he’s come out of the closet on that authorship now). I thought his work showed a lot of promise then, and I’m happy to report that he’s only gotten better as a writer.

Although there are some stand-alone stories in the collection, the bulk of the stories fall into two sequences—the Undead stories (which, in spite of expectations, are not about zombies or vampires), and the Redneck Universe stories, which culminate in the last part of the book, a novella called “Home Again.”

The Undead stories are actually concerned with the question of medical life extension. What if we could preserve the brains of people whose bodies have died, hook them up to a virtual reality scenario, and put their brain power to work? Plenty of moral ambiguities are explored, and the texture of the narrative is enriched by the fact that the narrator, one of the Undead himself, is not a particularly admirable man, and has every reason to wish to postpone his absolute death.

The Redneck Universe stories have a Heinleinian flavor, and concern a mass exodus from earth by a large number of people who form colonies—entirely without the support of any terrestrial government—on distant planets. The essential theme of all these stories is the alienation experienced by people trying to find a way to be human in environments no human has ever known before. The narrator of “Home Again,” the bittersweet novella at the end of the book, is further torn when, on returning to earth, he finds himself (because of the effects of relativity) subjectively only a few years older than when he left, but faced with a world where everything has experienced decades of change. Christians are likely to have trouble with the one religious scene in this story, and also with its conclusion, which is nevertheless dramatically justified.

If you’re a science fiction fan, especially one with libertarian views, I think you’ll probably like The Undead At War. Cautions for language and adult situations.

Rejoice, iBook readers!

I am reliably informed that Troll Valley is now available in (for?) the iBooks app. As I understand it, I don’t need to provide any kind of a link, just inform you that this is so. The world of iStuff is a mystery to me.

Also, someone pointed me to this link, which takes you to a full-length image of the Bayeux Tapestry. You can scroll it from one end to the other. It’s rather impressive, seen front to back. Like the mother of all comic books.

Will Sad Endings Sell?

Author and editor Nick Harrison asks if a book can be published, and if published, can it sell if it has a sad ending. “I like a sad ending that offers hope, but I think those of us who feel that way are in the minority,” he says. “A sad ending in a book for our market has an uphill struggle…”

Cry Unto Heaven, by Darwin Garrison

Full disclosure: Darwin Garrison is a friend of mine. But even adjusting for my prejudice, I think Cry Unto Heaven is a good, satisfying story.

In a sort of post-apocalyptic world (a very special kind of post-apocalyptic world) a young girl named Renn, scavenging for food, is rescued from a rapist by a man named Zeke who reminds her of an angel. He has seemingly supernatural powers, and he’s on a mission to answer prayers, and to frustrate the plans of his own brother, who has committed great crimes and wants to commit worse.

Cry Unto Heaven is a quick read, with good characters, a tight narrative, and theological resonance (no preaching). I enjoyed it a lot, and it’ll only cost you a buck. Recommended.

Top 10 Believers

Author Alex Preston picks ten believers from literary novels. He observes, “Quiet, placid faith fails to stir us. It’s the dark night of the soul that we want in our fiction, the adolescent torment of Salinger’s Franny or the guilt-ravaged Bendrix coming reluctantly to God in The End of the Affair.” (via Books, Inq. and Dave Lull)

The Well of the Unicorn, by Fletcher Pratt

A friend gave me a copy of The Well of the Unicorn by Fletcher Pratt, in order to reduce my appalling ignorance of some of the classics in my own genre. Having read it, I can see why it’s a (kind of a) classic, but also, I think, why it will probably never have a passionate following.

Fletcher Pratt, a prolific author who worked in many genres, as well as nonfiction, in the early part of the 20th Century, was a very fine author. The single thing that impressed me most about The Well of the Unicorn was the fact that he uses antique diction, but unlike most authors he actually uses it well. He very clearly understands the old words and idioms he employs, giving the whole story a flavor of authenticity.

On the other hand, that same diction can be an obstacle to the reader. I have a pretty extensive vocabulary, and I still found the prose a bit of a slog. Continue reading The Well of the Unicorn, by Fletcher Pratt

Phil’s Review of Troll Valley

A Fire in His EyesI finished Troll Valley last night, and like many of you, loved it. His characters have authentic voices and raise questions that are not clearly answered. His main character, Christian Anderson, follows a story arc somewhat similar to the priest of Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory, being a sympathetic boy who grows into a despicable coward and returns to being sympathetic again. It’s a beautiful, challenging picture of divine grace (not like the one to the right here).

One of the pastors in Troll Valley reminds me of a preacher I know through family ties. He knows the Bible well and yet is so wrong on select issues that you wish you could push him to become either a wholly sound pastor or a ridiculous fanatic. You might trust him more if he was less complicated, but such complications make the story so good.

One brief scene from the book may illustrate this point. Christian slips into the underworld or faerie land a few times. You might even say the whole story is about how faerie land is breaking in on Chris’ life. One time, he sees a giant hammering away on the manacles tying him to the ground. He’s crying because he can’t get free, but when Chris asks him about it, he says he chained himself down so that he wouldn’t attack the beautiful children who were playing nearby. Now in his chains, he wrestles to get free and attack them. That complex conflict of the heart and will may be the key to Troll Valley. Christian and other characters are limited in ways that keep them healthy to a degree and restrained. They don’t know how to assert their desires in positive ways and chafe at their restrictions until they can no longer stand it. If and when they break free, they make a terrible mess of themselves. Can they handle the self-determination they seek? Some of the restrictions which bind them are not sound ones, which makes the binding worse, and that is one of the major themes that makes this novel wonderful. Continue reading Phil’s Review of Troll Valley

This is me, in PJs.



Photo credit: Shin.

Over at PJ Media, where all the cool kids hang out, Kathy Shaidle rattled a few nacelles the other day by posting a piece called “Five Reasons Star Wars Actually Sucks.” Although the article was primarily an attack (not entirely unfair, either) on Star Wars fandom, she painted with a wide enough brush to step on a lot of general science fiction fans’ toes.

Successful, mature men do not play computer games, attend “cons,” and get excited about overrated science fiction movies from the 1970s.

Come on, all the conservative boys who’ve read this far:

Do you imagine Victor Davis Hanson is some kind of font of boring zombie lore?

Do you think Mark Steyn wastes his spare time playing World of Warcraft? (Trick question. Mark Steyn doesn’t have any spare time.)

No, these men have careers and families, here on planet earth.

So today Bryan Preston took up the gauntlet at The PJ Tatler, with a piece called “Why Star Wars and Sci-Fi Actually Don’t Suck.”

But here’s a little known fact about Star Wars: More than just being a series of two very good films, a pair of decent films and a pair of bad films, it bequeathed a whole industry. I’m not talking about the parallel marketing of the toys, many of which I used to own and now wish I still did because they would be worth a pile of money. I’m talking about Photoshop, and the broader digital imaging industry.

But here’s where it gets exciting and relevant and important. He goes on to say,

Now, if you hate sci-fi it follows that you’ll probably hate both of Lucas’ most successful franchises, but that doesn’t make them bad films and it doesn’t make sci-fi a bad genre. There’s a tendency around to try to force others to stop liking things that we don’t like. Well, I love sci-fi. When I’m not reading up on politics, I’m probably reading either legitimate history or sci-fi/fantasy. Good sci-fi, like good video games, gets your mind going. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of Jack McDevitt and Lars Walker. (Emphasis mine. lw) Both are fine writers with interesting minds who can create a universe and invest that universe with life. I don’t just read sci-fi/fantasy for the escape. I read it because, right now, it’s where the intellectual action is in fiction.

Thanks for the plug, Bryan.

Alternative View of the Good Life

Author Gabe Lyons talks about his son, age 11, who has Down’s.

Cade’s life, and those like his, offers an alternative view of the good life.

These individuals alter career paths and require families to work together.

They invite each of us to engage, instead of simply walking by.

They love unconditionally, asking little in return beyond a simple acknowledgement.

They celebrate the little things in life, and displace the stress that bogs most of us down.

They seem to understand what true life is about, more than many of us.

They offer us the opportunity to truly value all people as created equal.

(via Andy Crouch)

Galvanic meditations

Today we had our biennial (I think that’s the right word. Once every two years. For some reason I find it impossible to get biennial and semiannual straight) CPR and AED training at work. You probably all know what CPR is. An AED is the defibrillating machine various institutions (including ours) keep available in case of emergency.

I was deeply embarrassed to realize I had only a vague recollection of the previous training. If somebody had dropped in front of me with a heart attack yesterday, I’d have been useless. Now I’m up to speed again (sort of) and the instructor told me where to look on YouTube for a refresher video.

Old dog. New tricks. It’s a challenge.

The term “light bill” came to my mind today. Do you young folks know what a light bill is?

When I was a kid, my dad used to talk about paying the light bill. He meant the electric bill. Because back when rural electification came in, in the wake of World War II, that’s what everybody called it. There was one main purpose for getting your house hooked up to the grid, and that was to run electric lights. No more oil lamps (I don’t think they used gas in the country. That was a city luxury) with their smudge and bother and fire risk. Suddenly you could bid the fair day linger a while indoors, and read into the night.

Even then they did other things with electricity, of course. I believe they had a radio before they got electric power, but now they could feed it off an outlet, rather than buying batteries. I’m not sure what else they would have run off electricity in the early days. Ice boxes kept food cold, and clothes washing was still done by hand, at least at first. Dr. Heppelmeyer’s Patent Miracle Nerve Panacea and Hair Growth Stimulator might have warranted a plug-in, at least until it turned the cat’s hair white.

My great-grandfather, whose farm was across the road from ours, was one of the first farmers in the area to have electric light (he was a strict pietist, but loved technology and innovation. This was not uncommon), but he ran his off a battery of batteries, kept up in the attic. When I showed the Norwegian relatives that house at Christmas, one of them asked how they recharged the batteries, and I hadn’t the faintest idea. Perhaps they had to refresh the acid periodically, or scrape off the lead plates. Probably it was something else.