Perfection, thy name is a blue-sky day, an empty park bench, and at hand a space book to while the hours away. Reading in the summer months has always been an obsessive period. July/August is when this girl ticks books of her list, either be it a complete retrospective of all that Agatha penned or an intense relationship with Tostoy's horse drawn lanes.
This summer's compulsion sprang from Empire of Dust. It's simplistic space operatic drama triggered a desire to make this summer a science fiction summer, grand master realm science fiction; the science fiction that puts the science fiction in science fiction.
Without grade 10 English my journey down this space path may never have occurred. It wasn't until Japan that my SF passion developed as I moved from obsessively rereading Dune to exploring the genre. A decade or so ago, living in a small agriculturally Japanese town, English books were a rarity. An English teacher had to either bring her own into the country, share with others, or luck upon a cast away. In the copy room of the small school I taught was a pile of random English novels left behind by past teachers, long gone. Amongst this pile was Foundation, and hence began my second intense relationship with a series that gave birth to the geek I am today.
Sitting with Foundation open before me, I am yet again astounded that I like it as much as I do. It is said that to read the grand-daddies you have to look to the times that they were written. Even on this, my umpteenth reread I continue the futile search for a viewpoint beyond the male perspective, or at the very least a casting of women that does not portray my fellow sistren as nagging, flippant wives, dazzled by jewels, obsessed with the next miracle home appliance. For such a creative mind, how was Asimov unable to stretch his imagination beyond his social confines, explore the concept that the world is larger than the male perspective? Even as I expound on this I realize that Foundation has no place for these enlightened sentiments.
Foundation is based upon the fall of Rome. Hari Seldon a brilliant mathematician/psychiatrist develops the science of psychohistory: a mathematical algorithm to predict the future of humanity. Seldon calculates the fall of the mighty Galactic Empire, sealing the fate of billions but through those same predictors finds a path through which humanity can grow and flourish once again. Although it is filled with space ships Foundation is at its core an ancient tale and as such should never be expected to be forward looking.
It is an easy read, Asimov was not a poetic genius able to swirl words together. He was a story teller for the people, making him forever readable. The tone of Foundation is simplified, somewhat the voice of Tomorrowland, if the voice of the old 1960's Disney play-park could speak. It is also space opera at it's purest level, a novel documenting the fall of an empire and the rise of another. This story has touched many a writer, and its legacy can be found in countless plots.
Without Foundation, I wonder what path science fiction would have taken?
Summers as a kid found me either barefoot, ripping around on my 3-speed bike, or backseat of the family car, spying for KOA signs. We were a camping family; that was our thing. I grew up learning to catch salmon in the fjords of Alaska all the while sipping on hot apple cider mentally preparing for my daily morning argument of why my brother should allow me to eat the Fruit Loops from the multi-pack cereal snack box. My parents believed in packing us all up and seeing Canada through the vantage point of the open road. There were no overnights in hotels, or road side diner pit stops. We drove from Nova Scotia up through to our new home in the Yukon one long summer, stoping for the odd baseball game, the odd relative reunion and fishing. As long as my Mom had a book, my Dad could stop at any prospective raging river or brook to try his luck. For all those trips, all those places travelled through, it was not the arrival but the anticipation of getting there that lingers.
Maybe this is why Empire of Dust by Jacey Bedford was the perfect book for this girl to launch her summer reading campaign. Even though Empire of Dust is described as psi-tech it really is an old school space adventure with focus on adventure. My local SF bookstore had to weave their art of negotiation rather tightly around me before I tossed it into the buy pile. However I soon discovered that the very tech I was reluctant to explore created a more cohesive world-view, lending an air of uniqueness to the plot that heightened my imagination.
Bedford's world-view is thankfully not utopian. The story is rather dark, Cara Carlinni, a first grade psi-tech telepath is on the run, hiding from her past employer, the mega-corporation Alphacorp. The science is not holistic encompassing; being upgraded with technology to expand a person's latent psychic tendencies has a price of servitude that can be viewed from both ends of the spectrum of personal gain to life-long bondage. To be fair, the adventure does drag, the crisis opening the novel does not dissipate until the denouement. Once resolved to the notion that all the secrets Cara held close were not going to be revealed quickly, I stepped back, and simply enjoyed the ever-increasing pace and seemingly never-ending level of anxiety that shadowed the main characters.
Empire of Dust is the perfect little space book, for the perfect summer day. It is less about the characters and more about world-building, scope and plot. Sometimes the journey is the story, especially when it comes to Empire of Dust.
With an attraction to Netflix that continues unchecked, intermingled with an unrelenting level of procrastination that would alarm even my university days self, this girl's blog has been neglected. I applaud my blogger friends who have the willpower to post monthly and offer complete amazement to those who manage to populate their sites daily. And to all my other excuses spastically bouncing in the caverns of my brain, I say to you be quiet, it is time to write. It is time to write; thank the maker.
Inevitably there will be books by our favourite authors that will leave us less than inspired. Does this mean a disillusionment of all that was, a complete abandonment of an author you once held in regard? Reading is an immersive event, subsequent to our moods, place in the world, and perceptions. Subjectivity regulates the book game.
Many an acquaintance of mine presuppose my SF tendencies are a comedic commentary of my so-called geekness; a geekness that too my credit is more allure than reality. The newly minted holiday of May the 4th finds me at the epicentre of expectation with grand hopes of arriving at my son's school in nothing less than full Boba Fett armour. My response, is meh, my fandom while pure is a contained aspect, one that I gladly will share but less likely to wear. This geekness I don whether I choose to or not, follows me, defines me, stretches beyond my own personal narrative.
Surprisingly, I am a bigger nerd than I ever thought, simply based on assumptions. A blogger friend posted "Book Reviews are for Readers, Not for Authors", an article exploring the practise of faux reviews to either discredit competitors or boost one's own works. The heart of his rationale is reviews are for readers and thanks to this article, I am here this morning, writing. But the writing comes less easy, more complex as I strive to achieve objectivity in the face of my own personal predispositions. While I struggle with the notions of how I am viewed in my community, a parallel runs with my inferences of the authors I gravitate too.
Hence Karen Lord's The Galaxy Game, a star-spanning political enigma that bewildered me, leaving me uncertain of what I read but wanting more. In her short SF career, Karen Lord has made a name for herself, gifting the world the magic that is her Redemption in Indigo and the unique quality that the genre clearly needed in The Best of All Possible Worlds. I am a devoted fan. The Galaxy Game left me questioning whether it was just me or just the plot, or just the wrong time in my life to pick up this type of book. To the point, it tested my resolve to review books. A recent post of mine resulted in an author banning me from Twitter. Being an obscure blogger with little ties in the SF community, the action shocked me, guilted me, made me realize my words, while mild have power. Being a Karen Lord fan, how was I to write a review without causing a possible negative response?
Realization or maybe even a sense of defiance, I sat down and started to process these feelings of guilt, returning to why I created this blog; the joy of reading and sharing. The Galaxy Game is not for the SF newbie, nor is it for the SF vet who likes things a little more normal than alien. The book is tough. I was lost, unsure who was who, unable to process the scientific means by which people travelled through the universe. I was not a fan of this tale but I look forward to the next instalment. Lord continues to be one of the next best things in SF. Not all the stories she will share will ring true for me, but that doesn't mean it won't for you.
Perfection, thy name is a blue-sky day, an empty park bench, and at hand a space book to while the hours away. Reading in the summer months has always been an obsessive period. July/August is when this girl ticks books of her list, either be it a complete retrospective of all that Agatha penned or an intense relationship with Tostoy's horse drawn lanes.
Foundation is based upon the fall of Rome. Hari Seldon a brilliant mathematician/psychiatrist develops the science of psychohistory: a mathematical algorithm to predict the future of humanity. Seldon calculates the fall of the mighty Galactic Empire, sealing the fate of billions but through those same predictors finds a path through which humanity can grow and flourish once again. Although it is filled with space ships Foundation is at its core an ancient tale and as such should never be expected to be forward looking. 
