Showing posts with label science fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label science fiction. Show all posts

25 August 2016

Does drama end when the ending is well-known?

We went to a movie theater last year. We saw The Martian. It was likely the only movie we saw in a theater in 2015. We liked the movie. Even though it was as detailed as it was unlikely. Good fiction.

A while later, I picked up the book because it had been written about after the success of the movie. The book got mostly good "reviews" from readers. And the realists (scientists) gave it good marks too. Andy Weir, the author, had done lots of homework. He did the math about orbits, oxygen capacity of a Mars lander, the reproduction rate of potatoes, and mpg of a Mars rover. Much of that detail didn't get into the movie (thankfully), but a lot of it is in the book. I'd have been okay with a forward from the author telling me he'd done the math and hadn't stretched the truth too much. The details in the book did get in the way of telling the story.

But it's a good book. I really enjoyed reading it even though I knew the ending. The suspense and drama of the adventure survived the publicity and the fact that I'd seen the movie. That's a marvel to me. Remember Apollo 13, the movie about the near disaster aboard the third spacecraft sent to land people on the moon? Those of us who paid attention to the near disaster knew what happened and how it all ended. But my recollection of the movie was of great suspense. Of course, that required an extreme version of the "suspension of disbelief." But the movie worked.

Reading The Martian required a similar suspension of disbelief after seeing the movie and "knowing" the extreme improbability of the plot. Nonetheless, the movie worked. I was hanging on to the book and rapidly turning pages in the sections where there was action.

It worked right up to the end. The ending might have been well researched, but it seemed a bit too improbable. It was right up there with the ending of Gravity that rescued Sandra Bullock's character. Of course she had extraordinary help from a ghost.

The Martian was a good book. I found myself getting bogged down in the technical explanations, but it's possible to skim through those sections. I'm glad I read it.

Have you read The Martian? Write and tell this little bit of the world what you thought of it.


19 December 2013

Titan revisited

I wasn't prepared for the opportunity to do some reading. I hadn't been to the library or a bookstore.

Then I saw a very old copy (printedin 1967 when the ISBN was just an "SBN") of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.'s The Sirens of Titan.

I was enthralled with the book 40-some years ago. It was full of ideas and jokes that were brand new to me. This time when I read it, it seemed a lot less like fiction or satire.

The mega-story is a huge shaggy dog tale. The main characters, like most of us, have no idea of their roles in the human saga. The NSA is real, and the Traflamadorians are fiction, but it's difficult to determine which is more destructive. Just like it's difficult not to laugh out loud when the CEOs of Google, Facebook, Apple, Yahoo!, and LinkedIn plead with the president in Washington, D.C. to rein in the government invasion of people's privacy.
A Sirens of Titan tattoo

After re-reading it, I still like The Sirens of Titan. But I'm an old man now, like the main character, and I'm less amused by human or machine foibles.

Bring on the children. They're cute and wonderful. They'll grow out of that, but I want to spend time with them now. And eventually give them their own copies of The Sirens of Titan.

Meanwhile, "Greetings."


09 May 2013

Slipping into another mind

One of the books that Nancy added to my Nook before it became a Christmas present was The Speed of Dark by Elizabeth Moon. What a great gift.

Elizabeth Moon
If you've read enough of these postings, you know I like stories. Usually that means a series of events. While there are events in this little book, it's really not a story. The book is about a person. Most of the book is an interior monologue or dialogue, if you'd rather.

The reason it's so fascinating is that the character isn't normal. He's autistic. He's several giant strides ahead of Raymond Babbitt, the charater played by Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, but nonetheless, he's not normal. Using the language of his therapist and boss, he calls the non-autistics the normals and wonders constantly how they know the things they do and how they know how to do the things they do.

If anyone were really paying attention, they would ask the same questions about Lou Arrendale, the primary character in  The Speed of Dark. Only a couple people come close to asking, but they do so too timidly and too late.

Most of the people Lou interacts with are other people with autism at work. They work in a special division, hired as people with disabilities. But they are valued as people with very special analytical skills by the company.

Lou also interacts with some "normals" in a fencing club and at church. He's threatened and attacked by a rival from his fencing club. He feels attracted to a woman in the group, but has no idea how to act on those feelings. He almost gets close enough to the couple who run the fencing club to get advice on acting on those feelings and the "hinge" of the story.

A new division leader is hired at work. He resents the accomodations provided to the little group of autistic analysts and he's anxious to make a big name for himself. His ladder to fame and fortune and a route to eliminating the workplace accomodations is to get these "not normals" into an experiment to test a procedure for curing people of autism. His attempts amount to blackmail and they're foiled by a supervisor.

Lou is recognizing some development in his mind as he processes the attack, works with a police detective, and tries to figure out why he's entranced with the bright reflections from the hair of one of his fencing opponents. He tries to decide whether to volunteer for the experimental treatment and wonders who he'd be if he became "normal."

Elizabeth Moon wrote this book when her low-functioning autistic son was a teen-ager. I have no idea how accurate her portrayal of a high-functioning autistic mind is, but it's fascinating. Her perceptions about his thought processes seem very insightful. The guy she describes is someone I'd like to get to know -- especially if he were as insightful as as Moon makes her character. Thinking back, I am sure I missed my chance to get to know people like that a couple times. (Metaphorically, I kick myself at this point.) Of course, I had enough trouble getting and keeping myself on a near-normal track. If I had spent the time and effort to get to know someone like Lou Arrendale, I ...  I would have been a different person. (Talk about a "hinge" event.)

I was entranced with Moon's character and the bits of story and dilemmas that surrounded the guy. I highly recommend this book.

Have you read The Speed of Dark? How did you react to it? Write and tell this little bit of the world what you thought.



If you're curious, Elizabeth Moon is a proflific science fiction writer and The Speed of Dark is set in a near future, so there's some science fiction projections in it.





10 August 2011

Double failure

I'll take these failures on myself, but I had lots of help.

Nancy brought Connie Willis' All Clear home from the library. I picked it up and took it to the cabin named Sidetrack because I'd read The Doomsday Book, Remake, and To Say Nothing of the Dog years ago and liked them. There was another Willis book, Promised Land, that I wasn't so fond of.

All Clear was advertised on the dust jacket as another of Willis' time travel novels. I'd found that to be an entertaining and clever device in earlier books. The plot device is that Oxford University historians about 50 years from now discover a method of time travel that lets them go into the past as researchers and return to their rooms in mid-21st century Oxford to write eye-witness accounts of historical events.

Willis' characters are most interested in what went on in London during World War II (as in To Say Nothing of the Dog).

I quickly found out that the 600+ page All Clear was the second of two volumes telling one story. Since I'd read earlier time travel books, I thought I could get by without reading the first volume, Blackout. It turns out I could get by without reading all of the second volume as well.

How many times do I have to read some internal dialogue about a character's fears that she's trapped in the past? Or that she's done something to trap another researcher in the past? Or that one of her colleagues has done something to change the course of history? Well, Willis seemed to think that one or another of her characters just had to say those things to herself every few pages. And how often was it necessary for me to read about the anxieties of getting to work on time or the exact details of what trains were necessary to travel from one part of London to another?

Willis is a successful author, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't need an editor.

[Short aside: Nancy's website features a quotation from T. S. Eliot: "Even a superb writer needs a good editor. A merely good writer needs a superb editor."]

To Say Nothing of the Dog was full of humor and joy. This book was full of anxiety and stress. Okay, the V-1 and V-2 rockets and the Blitz were no fun in London. But the earlier book was also set in London during World War II London. If Blackout, the first volume is a twin to this one, I'd suggest that someone abridge the two and make a (400-page?) science fiction novel out of them. I might have enjoyed reading that and even finished it.

Then I picked up Per Petterson's I Curse the River of Time at the Northfield library. It got on my "To Read" list because of a review in the New York Times. Stacey D'erasmo wrote that "Petterson’s narratives tend to unspool in the first person, in hushed, confidential tones. Tight-lipped with one another, his characters open their hearts to the reader, making us witnesses to their most private selves. He makes the reader lean in, out of the wind, to listen closely..."

I'd read Out Stealing Horses a few years ago and liked it. Maybe I wasn't in the mood for the moody, self-indulgent, un-selfconscious internal dialogues in I Curse the River of Time either. The main character wasn't interesting to me.

Another book I didn't finish.

Oh, well. My "To Read" list is still long. It was disappointing that one of the books on the list is only available from the libary as an e-book for an e-reader. I don't have one of those yet. But books? I can handle lots of them.

Have you read Connie Willis' All Clear? or Per Petterson's I Curse the River of Time? How did you react? Write and tell this little bit of the world about your experience.



16 March 2011

Pioneers? Us?

My blogger friend Sank made of list of his 10 best for 2010. He recommended Death Benefits by Thomas Perry. It was a book I liked. Sank also like the Nick Adams stories by Hemingway and Ken Follett's World Without End. I like things those authors have written, too.

He recommended Sundiver by David Brin. He liked the themes of rebellion and adaptability and acceptance.

When I recently flew to California, I took along the Northfield Library's copy of Sundiver.

I tried reading it on the flight to Denver, during my layover there, and on the flight to Oakland. So many characters, such confusion, so few events. I got some good naps on those flights.

While not playing with granddaughters in California, I tried reading the book before sleep. It did put me to sleep.

After I got home, I struggled to read the rest of the book. Somewhere around page 150 of a 340-page book some things began happening. By then I'd skimmed enough to be confused and unable to distinguish one character from another, except for a couple. I had trouble making sense of descriptions of settings and events. Besides, I no longer cared about any of the characters -- even the protagonist.

Interesting ideas, yes. Well written, no. Interesting technologies, yes. Enthralling plot, no.

Of course, that's just one guy's opinions. A guy who got suckered by a century-old dead guy.



03 August 2009

Paranoid sci fi

A couple weeks ago, we headed for the nearby east (Cleveland, Ohio) for a bit of family reunion and an American Red Cross fund raiser featuring a huge and wonderful fireworks show.



I stopped at the Northfield Library to pick up a couple paperbacks for the plane rides and the layovers in Chicago. One of the books I checked out, and the one I read, was Philip K. Dick's Time Out of Joint. The author is best known for his novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep which was transformed into the movie Bladerunner.

The time is out of joint; O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!

-Hamlet, Act I, Scene V

Philip K. Dick is a cult hero for his big ideas. And conceptually, Time Out of Joint is an intriguing and complex project. It was written in 1959 in the midst of the Cold War. In the book, it's 1996, the war is hot, and main character Ragle Gumm is a vital player. He is a tactical expert who has had a mental breakdown, but he's so important to the war effort that the powers that be will do nearly anything to keep him functioning -- even create the past. Making the scheme work requires Ragle Gumm's amnesia. But he begins to remember.

There are flashes of great writing in the book. They illuminate the mundane nature of most of the book like flashes of lightning. The basic concept is clever, but too many details are shoddy. Lou Stathis, writes in an afterward that Philip K. Dick had mental health problems, financial problems, and that he'd stoke himself with meth and go on writing jags to turn out books. Time Out of Joint seems like the product of such a time.

I'd certainly like to see what Ray Bradbury would have done with this plot.


PS: Ray Bradbury's 89th birthday is August 22. Send him a card in care of his local book store:
Ray Bradbury
c/o Mystery and Imagination
237 North Brand Blvd.
Glendale, CA 91203



The Philip K. Dick web site





Some of Bradbury's stories are variations of Dick's story




for Kindle



21 June 2009

Confusing the old guy in the room

David took at class this spring titled Artificial Intelligence and Science Fiction. It was a computer science course, but it could easily have been a philosophy course. The meaning of intelligence and the ethics of dealing with non-human intelligence were major topics.

One of the books on the recommended reading list was Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash. I picked it up after hearing David talking about it and the discussions in class.

It took awhile to finish. Stephenson uses a lot of words and writes complex stories. And he has the need to explain many things in great detail. Some of his books have been 800+ pages. This one was only 440.

Most commentators label this book one of the cyberpunk novels, most famously represented by William Gibson's Neuromancer. The stories are set in dark, violent, anarchic, dystopic societies of the near future and focus on the actions of various heros and anti-heroes ("please, don't be too conventional").

The books reflect and inspire video games, anime, movies like Blade Runner and The Matrix, and industrial music.

One of the amazing things about Snow Crash is that it predicted (or publicized) in 1992 things like Second Life, Wikipedia, Google Earth, airport security systems, and attempts to unify the languages that computers speak.

The story is interesting and, at times, moves along swiftly and entertainingly. However, it's often interrupted by long lectures from "the Librarian" about the linguistic legend and history of Mesopotamia. From that mixture of a native human language, the story of a confusion of tongues at the tower of Babel (in Babylon), glossolalia, religion as a virus, and Ayn Rand individualism gone amok, Stephenson tries to explain how the world is ending (or something).

There are some interesting bits and pieces in there. "Information as a controlled substance," for instance. There are lots of facts, but you'd have to be a scholar to know how many. There are some interesting ideas and assertions, but you'd have to be a scholar and hear some discussion to really evaluate them. If Stephenson wanted to write a treatise on language and mind control, I might be interested. I tried to follow the lectures at first, but in the final two-thirds of the book, I just skimmed them.

For me, that stuff got in the way of a good adventure story and a hero in the model of the hard-boiled detectives that Raymond Chandler wrote about.

Stephenson's story is about the adventure of Hiro Protagonist (how's that for symbolism?) in his efforts to prevent the Reverend L. Bob Rife from using the mental virus "Snow Crash" to gain control of the minds of all the preternaturally talented computer programmers and thus becoming the super power in a modern world of sovereign private enterprises like Mr. Lee's Greater Hong Kong and Uncle Enzo's CosaNostra Pizza, Incorporated.

It connects to the lectures about ancient language because the tool that our Hiro needs is a magic word from ancient Sumerian recorded on a clay tablet excavated from an ancient Mesopotamian city.

Complex enough for you? I feel a bit more culturally informed. In terms of importance, I probably could have gotten similarly informed by watching a week's worth of "Entertainment Tonight" or "TMZ." Except then I'd know about present-day people who are famous for being famous, instead of obscure cultural references of the cyberpunk world.

I'll end here as the book ends, "Seems about right."







For Kindle


23 January 2008

Robots, robots, everywhere

While hanging out at O'Hare on his way home for winter break, young David picked up a copy of Isaac Asimov's I, Robot with a picture of Will Smith on the cover. He figured he was buying the screenplay for the movie Smith starred in. But, no, it was the classic collection of Asimov short stories originally published in 1950. The stories had appeared in science fiction magazines in the decade prior to that, so some were over 65 years old. David had read them some time ago. The book just got a new cover for a 2004 paperback edition.

I hadn't read these stories, so I picked up this classic. This is, after all, where Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics first appeared. In addition, Robbie, the robot in the first story, was the inspiration for Robby of The Forbidden Planet and Robot B-9 of Lost in Space.

It took me a long time to get through this collection. I just wasn't in the mood for all the thinking that Asimov instigated.

The stories are amazing. Asimov was making predicitons about technology, politics, culture, and psychology. One of the characters who holds this collection together is robopsychologist Susan Calvin, born in 1982. Calvin dies at age 82, shortly after the last story ends. Her life span coincides with the successes of U.S. Robotics and Mechanical Men, the company that created "positronic brains," thinking machines, and robots.

Some of Asimov's predictions seem quaint now; others are on the mark. I guess I should have expected that with so much speculation in one place. The thinking machines and robots are huge constructs filled with vacuum tubes in Asimov's 21st century. He was writing in the shadow of Eniac. [Two programmers work on Eniac in the photo at right.]

Asimov's 21st century world was a global society, but it was politically organized into half a dozen economic-geographic regions, each with its own "thinking machine" to rationally organize its economic production and coordinate global trade. He did predict that the capital of the Tropic region would be a brand new city in central Nigeria, just about where Abuja, the purpose-built capital city is today.


Construction in Abuja, Nigeria

He also predicted the competition for resources between the developing and developed worlds even though he underestimated global population. But in Asimov's global economy, the thinking machines rationally organized things to resolve conflicts that arose from the competitons.

And in the end, the thinking machines injected little anomalies into the global production-trade system to make people more comfortable with the machines' dominance over human beings.

In the final story, a colleague says to Dr. Calvin, "But you are telling me, Susan, that... Mankind has lost its own say in its future."

She responds, "It never had any, really. It was always at the mercy of economic and sociological forces it did not understand... Now the machines understand them; and no one can stop them, since the Machines... [have] the greatest weapons at their disposal, the absolute control of our economy."

Ah, utopia.

Then, yesterday, the February edition of Seed Magazine arrived. The theme of the issue is Blue Brain. One of the main articles is Out of the Blue by Jonah Lehrer. It asks the question, "Can a thinking, remembering, decision-making, biologically accurate brain be built from a supercomputer?"

And in Wired Magazine's Danger Room (What's next in national security?), this headline appeared: "Israel Eyes Thinking Machines to Fight 'Doomsday' Missile Strikes." Noah Shachtman writes that "Israeli military leaders have begun early planning for a new, robotic defense system, armed with enough artificial intelligence that it 'could take over completely' from flesh-and-blood operators..."

The quest for Asimov's thinking machines goes on. To what ends?


15 May 2007

Romantic science fiction

Many years ago I read a science fiction novel by John Varley, and was impressed enough to remember his name. I think the book was Titan. But I'm not sure. When I looked up the plot summary, it didn't sound like the book I remembered at all.

The reason for looking up Titan was that Nancy brought a John Varley book home from the library. This one was Red Lightning. Like Titan, this book involves the conflicts between residents of two different worlds.

In Red Lightning, the two worlds are earth and earth's fairly independent colony on Mars. The Martian colony and earth's survival are dependent upon the discovery/invention of a nearly-unlimited, non-polluting source of power controlled by a benevolent scientist. (Like most science fiction, this requires major suspension of disbelief.)

The separation between the two "worlds" is complete enough and old enough that culturally the two places are rather different. Rather like England and its American colonies in the late 1700s were different, I suspect (and I suspect that Varley intended that comparison).

So, politically and militarily, the power held by the scientist is too attractive. Many people wanted to run things. The scientist disappears and takes his secrets with him. The scientists' relatives live in Mars' rather idyllic society. The powers that be on earth invade Mars. The "Martians" rescue the scientist, find ways of resisting the earthlings' invasion because the scientist demonstrates that his power source is not only benign, but lethal. And the Martians live happily every after.

It's a romantic fairy tale in many ways. It's a hippie manifesto. (Varley spent some of his teenage years on the streets of Haight and Ashbury.) It's pretty well written and the story is well told. It was just the kind of escapism I needed last week.

If it sounds attractive, check it out. Your library may also have a copy.