Half Way Home
By Hugh Howey
Half Way Home is a 2010 book by Hugh Howey that was, for some reason, re-released in 2019. I don’t think it holds up that well against his more recent work but it does give some early indication of where he was going.
What we have here is basically a retelling of The Lord of the Flies, with a colony of teenagers finding themselves on another planet after their ship’s AI fails to fully abort their mission. Once again the reset button has been pressed on civilization, a frequently recurring theme in today’s SF. But where Golding’s classic novel is pessimistic in its depiction of tribal human nature taking over Howey is more hopeful about our ability to triumph over adversity, in the form of the devil in the machine and a few bad apples.
I found Half Way Home to be readable but light, and not just for being aimed at a YA audience. There is a tendency in our more optimistic SF writers to see human evil as not inherent but something artificial and thus capable of being corrected or overcome. It’s not a point of view I share, and I find the politics of these books can sometimes get preachy, but as an antidote to the more misanthropic turns our dystopian fiction has been taking it’s worth considering.
By Alastair Reynolds
Time travel is a venerable science fiction trope, so much so that various sub-genres of time travel story can be identified. Permafrost may remind us of of 12 Monkeys in its basic premise, which has it that in the year 2080 the world as we know it has gone to hell, the result of a total environmental collapse known as the Scouring. A group of scientists in Russia, however, have come up with a way to inject the consciousness of selected “pilots” into the minds of people living fifty years earlier by way of MRI machines. In this way they hope to avert catastrophe.
To try to explain more would risk getting caught in the “python-coils of paradox” that bedevil all such journeys into the past, and which the pilots themselves are keen to avoid. Suffice it to say that this is a short book that has many such coils, some of them twisting in unanticipated directions. The hero of the piece, for example, is an elderly woman and not an action hero, while the villains remain a mysterious whiteout. Reynolds, however, is one of the top writers in the field today and he’s capable of both going his own way and taking us with him.
The Rosewater Insurrection
By Tade Thompson
The Rosewater Insurrection is the second part of Tade Thompson’s Wormwood Trilogy. The first book in the series, Rosewater, introduced us to a strange structure that had arisen in Nigeria: part of a plan to download alien minds into human hosts. The main character in the series, Kaaro, is a member of a secret police unit with a special medium-like ability to navigate the fantastic alien “xenosphere,” which is one of the ways these mysterious visitors communicate with us.
In this book the story opens up considerably. The mayor or Rosewater declares independence, triggering a Nigerian civil war. Meanwhile, the alien is under attack by a plant-like creature with its own mysterious agenda. Politics make for strange bedfellows and soon the large cast of characters, with Kaaro and his partner Aminat at the center, are having to take sides, sometimes quite reluctantly.
Rosewater was a terrific start to the trilogy and The Rosewater Insurrection only raises the bar, introducing a number of fascinating new elements into an already intriguing storyline.
By Mary Shelley
Frankenstein is, I think by broad consensus, the first science fiction novel. Yes, the science is only glanced at, and in the 1831 edition is actually played down to the point where it’s unclear even in the most general terms how Victor Frankenstein gives life to his creation. But it’s clear that Victor isn’t using black magic to raise the dead, and as a type of the mad scientist he would go on to have a long life within the genre. Such figures aren’t punished by God or the gods (indeed we can’t even be sure if either Victor or his creation has read the Bible) but instead must be judged by the results of their experiments. After all, Victor can’t really help himself when it comes to pursuing his passions. Elizabeth is such a cold figure — more sister than lover — and he’s so lonely. The Creature is his true love, albeit of the type one regrets in the morning.
The Last Iota
By Robert Kroese
The Last Iota is the action-packed sequel to Robert Kroese’s hit neo-noir mystery The Big Sheep, returning us to a mid-twenty-first-century, post-Collapse Los Angeles and the team of brainy private investigator Erasmus Keane and his brawny partner Blake Fowler.
The iota of the title is a type of virtual currency, much like today’s bitcoins. When the iota was launched there were a handful of physical iota coins produced and now for some reason they are in high demand, with people literally dying to get their hands on them. Finding the last iota, and figuring out why it’s so important, will force Keane and Fowler to navigate an urban war zone while trying to untangle a complex web of high-level financial chicanery and blackmail.
By J. G. Ballard
Is it science fiction? Well, it’s prophetic. It describes itself, paradoxically, as a vision of “a future that had already taken place, and was now exhausted.” Shouldn’t that mean that its particular dystopic vision is now passé?
Not quite. This is a novel that juxtaposes the shallow surface of modern life with its lower depths, inviting all kinds of obvious Freudian and Marxist interpretations. The abyss, however, abides, which is why we continue to see so much of ourselves in the residents of the high-rise. Their need for comfort and security, for example, and their selfishness and narcissism are drives no less important than their unleashed libidos. Wilder’s camera would be a cellphone now, but otherwise it seems very familiar.
As a vision of the end of the world High-Rise is as resonant now as ever. This may well be the way the world ends: locked inside our dirty apartments, drowning in our own filth, and each of us (even, or especially, those of us with families) entirely alone. If not happy, at least content.
All Systems Red
By Martha Wells
The post- but still part-human cyborg has proven to be one of the most enduring figures in SF. And as our tools and technology lead to further extensions and augmentations in the best McLuhanesque fashion, it keeps getting easier to identify with these evolving human-machine hybrids.
The narrator of All Systems Red is a corporate cyborg unit named Murderbot. Despite having a bad-ass name, Murderbot actually has a shy, retiring personality, well-suited for the task of providing security for a team of scientists investigating a remote planet. This should be a simple task, giving Murderbot lots of free time to watch cable dramas while ignoring the annoying humans. But then things go crazy. Satellite communications are disrupted and contact is lost with a neighbouring research station. Murderbot will have to rise to the occasion if the team is going to survive.
All Systems Red is a quick read, the length of a novella, and Wells’s storytelling is light on its feet, making for a thrilling action yarn with a catchy plot and a conflicted narrator many readers will be able to relate to.