Babel-17, by Samuel R. Delany

Babel-17, by Samuel R. Delany, tied for the Nebula Award in 1967. As best I can remember, this is the first book by Delany that I've ever read. It blew me away.

I'm a sci-fi fan. I don't go to (many) conventions, but I'll watch almost any genre series on TV. Two of my favorites are Babylon 5 and Firefly. Brilliant writing, brilliant execution, and worthy additions to the genre. Clearly, in reading Babel-17 I'm going better-late-than-never where these series' creators have boldly gone before. I found many delightful descriptions and scenes in Babel-17 that I now recognize as homages in Babylon 5, Firefly, and other series & films. Delany has a fleet of shadow-ships, and smaller spider-ships, that were more than familiar from B5. Early in the book, a female character writes "Present location: I'm sitting in a folding chair in the freight lock looking over the field." If you've watched Firefly, you'll remember Kaylee in precisely this scene. There are many others, and it's fun to recognize them, even after the fact.

Delany gets to join my list of authors who love word-play, and who are skilled at it. I'll avoid specific examples, because they're just so darn fun to read (and I hope you'll find this book and read it!); I'll just say that the strategies for his space battles are novel and descriptive. Rating: 5/5

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress, by Robert A. Heinlein, received the 1967 Hugo for Best Novel. It was Heinlein's 4th Hugo win, and a nice companion to his previous novels. As in many of his earlier works, Heinlein uses the book to share his political ideologies with the reader, specifically individual responsibility.

In my opinion, the political goings-on slowed the book down a bit; consequently, it's not as easy or entertaining a read as Stranger in a Strange Land or Starship Troopers. It is, however, a well-written political story with interesting perspectives on revolt and government. Rating: 4/5

And Call Me Conrad (aka: This Immortal), by Roger Zelazny

And Call Me Conrad (aka: This Immortal), by Roger Zelazny, tied with Dune for the 1966 Hugo Award. It's a "grand tour" story with a sci-fi overlay, and it's a darn good book.

Zelazny plays with language, and does it very effectively. My favorite was his description of a world leader, "...his function is rather like that of an anti-computer: you feed him all kinds of carefully garnered facts, figures, and statistics and he translates them into garbage."

The story is steeped in Greek myth and legend, and has many intriguing layers and characters. It's books like this that make this project worthwhile! Curiously, I'm finding that the more I like a book the less I have to say about it; if it keeps me turning the pages, I don't have any interest in making notes about what I'm reading, apparently. Rating: 4/5

Bogged down in Books and Life

I'm behind (on many things, including this project). I've read two additional books from the list, but can't work up sufficient motivation to write interesting and coherent posts about them. Meh. I'll get around to it eventually. Probably. ;)

Dune, by Frank Herbert

Dune, by Frank Herbert, received the first-ever Nebula Award in 1966 and tied for the 1966 Hugo Award. It's one of those books that, for some inexplicable reason, I've avoided my entire life.

I'm not sure what started my anti-Dune bias, although it might have been an aborted attempt to read the National Lampoon parody before picking up the original. I avoided the 1984 film by David Lynch. I didn't even know there were two Dune-based TV miniseries, and I actually like TV miniseries (especially in the SciFi and Fantasy genres). I've read and enjoyed other books by Frank Herbert, but have actively avoided the Dune-i-verse.

In contrast to this, my husband's December 1981 (23rd printing) copy of Dune has been read so many times that chunks of pages have fallen out and only remain with the book because they're tucked carefully into their proper places. In his defense, the 80s were a terrible time for paperbacks--something about the glue; however, he's quick to admit that he revisited his copy of Dune before reading each new addition to the series.

As I read Dune, I wished it had been released as multiple smaller volumes. As I write this, I realize that if it had been published in any other form than the existing epic the world wouldn't ever have known the book at all. It's huge and rambling, but the three sections of the book build logically on each other. Had part 1 been published as a stand-alone novel, it would have vanished into the pile of 60s sci-fi and never been heard from again. The overall book, though long, is what captures the reader.

As an author, Frank Herbert rambles. Unlike some of the other rambling writers I've read for this project, he still manages to be a pretty easy read. He pulled from a vast number of cultures to create the world that his characters inhabit, and for me it never came through as a cohesive whole--each time he dropped a non-English word or cultural reference I mentally traced it back to its real-world source (or tried to), which slowed me down from time to time.

Have I become a Dune fanatic? No, but I'm planning to Netflix the film and mini-series, and will probably read more books in the Dune saga. My Dune-avoidance has officially come to an end. Hm. Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks! Rating: 4/5

The Wanderer, by Fritz Leiber

The Wanderer, by Fritz Leiber, was the 1965 recipient of the Hugo Award for best novel. If you'll recall, this was his second novel to win the prize (and I didn't like the first one, The Big Time, at all).

The Wanderer is set on Earth in the mid-1960s, and is a fairly standard natural disaster story. The natural disaster, in this case, is caused by unnatural means; however, for most of the book's characters this matters little or not at all as they deal with the repercussions on a small, localized scale. As in The Big Time, Leiber's characters are rather two-dimensional--we get snapshots of their personalities and how they react to the expanding global disaster, but for the most part they're described mainly in terms of the cliche they represent: hipster, druggie, scientist, astronaut, treasure-hunter, etc. (for the record, there are WAY too many characters to make this book an easy read). Leiber also continues to play with language in this book, which at times becomes a tad cumbersome. Occasionally, this word-play brings something unique to a scene, such as an 11th-hour sex scene described mostly in terms of the characters' surroundings.

Leiber name-drops several classic science fiction writers, including Heinlein, H.G. Wells, Arthur C. Clarke, E.R. Burroughs, and Doc Smith. Several of his characters work in snide critiques of the genre, which I enjoyed. "Science fiction is as trivial as all artistic forms that deal with phenomena rather than people" was one that seemed to be a statement against the all-action, no-character books that Leiber was trying hard not to write.

This book felt like the product of it's time, particularly the inhabitants of the Wanderer itself--"we Wild Ones, we Recalcitrants, we Untamed," whose government began to nibble at their freedoms millennia ago. They're the ultimate rebels, and like many fringe groups in the mid-60s, just want the government to leave them alone to do as they like. Interestingly, Leiber leaves the ultimate decision of whether they're the good guys or the bad guys up to the reader.

There were many things about this book that I found intriguing and fascinating, but in the end I felt that the general wordiness and the number of distinct character-threads made it difficult to read and follow. In my opinion it's better than many of the earlier Hugo winners, but it can't compete with most of the modern stuff I was reading at the same time. Rating: 3/5

Way Station, by Clifford D. Simak

Way Station, by Clifford D. Simak, received the Hugo Award for best novel in 1964. Simak is considered by many to be the pioneer of "realistic" science fiction, and was the 3rd author named as a Grand Master of the genre. As with many of the early Hugo-winning authors, this was the first work by Simak that I'd read.

Way Station includes many standard features of science fiction--aliens, high-tech gear, interstellar travel, futuristic weaponry, and interplanetary disputes--but does so with the best tools of the storyteller's craft. It has more in common with last year's film The Visitor (a bittersweet character piece starring Richard Jenkins) than with summer sci-fi bl0ckbusters like Independence Day. Although each has its place in the genre, I'm finding that I appreciate the quieter and more thoughtful stories much more than the overblown whiz-bangers these days.

The main character, Enoch Wallace, is a man with one foot in each of two worlds. He is set apart from humanity, both by his situation and his own choices, but isn't fully a part of the world he has come to know through his role as keeper of an interstellar way station. Both of these worlds are heading toward what appears to be unavoidable war, and Enoch is forced by his circumstances to decide where his loyalties lie.

Although this book was written, and is set, in the early 1960s it has aged well. There's not much about the book, its characters, or its technologies that would be jarring or read as archaic to today's reader. It's a snapshot of a life, and a story about the effect one life can have on a race or a universe. I'm looking forward to reading Simak's other award winners as this project continues. Rating: 4/5