A Memory of Light, by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson

The Wheel of Time series was 23 years old when it concluded last year.  I did not start reading the series when it first came out, though I did hear about it--I began it around the turn of the millenium, and then purchased the books as they came out.  So partly free.  And I am part of a legion of fantasy SF readers for whom the series has been part of life, for 14 years now.

It was never a compulsive part, as even when I am not a free SF reader, I am a cheap one. I got the final volume, A Memory of Light, for Christmas this year and spent close to three months reading it.  Coming to the end of such a series, I was bracing for disappointment.  Bringing a series to a close is a truly difficult affair.  So many classic works have ended poorly.  Brandon Sanderson had done a very good job of getting the series from the death of Jordan to the ending, but still...

Not this time, though.  A major series spanning many years comes to a full and satisfying conclusion.  Jordan gets only partial credit, since he didn't manage to conclude it in his own lifetime.  But it was really good to see such a fine strong ending.  Sanderson says Jordan had most of the ending written, and I can buy that, since it's heavy on battle scenes.  Those were his strength before he undertook this series.  But the pacing is definitely Sanderson.

Really, in the end it delivers what was promised all the way at the start.  Rand Al'Thor leads the forces of the Light into the Last Battle, as promised.  All the major characters are there, and get their say one way or another.  Rand becomes rather larger than human, even as he tries to hold on to his humanity--pretty much what you would expect of the Savior.

But while this, like so many of its kind, bears a resemblance to the Bible, this isn't really a Christ allegory.  In the end, Rand is still human, with some special power.  The ending underlines this well. 

No tricks or gimmicks here.  The heroes of the end of the Third Age step up and play their part, as do the villains.  The series never was about complex personalities, though they do have flavor.  If you have never picked it up, I would say it's worthwhile to spend a year (or however long it takes you to read 14,000 pages) and read it.  It sets a good expectation for what a fantasy series can deliver.  I give this one my rare Five Stars, in the special category of Long Series With A Real Ending.

And I Awoke and Found Me Here On the Cold Hill's Side, by James Tiptree, Jr.

Back just briefly--after today I am diving into another very long book so will be awhile.  Tonight I went back to 1972 and reread a story I've read a few times before.  And I Awoke and Found Me Here On the Cold Hill's Side had Hugo and Nebula nominations for best short story in that year.  Tiptree's fiction mostly explores sexuality, and this one is a fine example.  We might think it a little naïve now to think that alien life would resemble us enough to be an object of sexual desire--and yet, people are attracted to the very strangest of things, most anything at all might work.  The speculation here is that our fascination with glamorous strangers would lead us to ruin (a very direct analogy is drawn to the early Polynesians).  And I'd have to say Tiptree is probably right--if aliens were anything like us at all and not lethal to us, we would think they are glamorous, at first at least.  Unless they were refugees, per District 9.  I enjoyed this as much now as I did then, and give it three stars with a recommendation to go try it, now that it's available free online.

Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins

The Hunger Games had been on my list for awhile, just because of its cultural significance--it seems to be the biggest thing in reading to come along since Harry Potter.  It is the biggest hit I can recall that has a female protagonist action hero, though those are becoming more common.  There's plenty of analysis out there for the series--with Mockingjay finished I now add my own small bit.

The series is a pretty trenchant critique of a current societal trend and its biggest side effect.  The societal trend is unequal economic opportunity, and the closely related symptom of blood sport.  Games for blood are as old as human society--the Roman gladiators being the most famous early example, but people have probably been paying to watch fights since long before any form of literacy existed.  And the contestants in these fights are always some form of oppressed group--the poor, prisoners and other powerless folk are the ones risking their lives, willingly, forcibly, or somewhere in between.

The modern twist on this is the female perspective, of course.  We have the uplifting message that women can be action heroes and win in combat--which means they end up being participants.  But what Suzanne Collins really brings out and properly emphasizes is the spectacle of it all.  One of Katniss' most important, and definitely most forthright, allies is her stylist.  What we end up with is Survivor for the highest stakes, complete with all the reality-tv tropes of elaborate massaging of the games to keep them competitive (the GameMaster is another very important character) and audience involvement.  In Mockingjay, though, Katniss goes beyond the arena and takes it to the streets.  Her leadership is figurative and her conscience is conflicted, but in the end she brings it all off.

A couple of issues, at least one being kind of minor and definitely un-PC:

1. For the 75th games, they brought back 24 former winners, two from each district, male and female.  With 12 districts participating (we don't know when 13 dropped out), that would mean there were at least 12 female winners.  That is a stretch, unpopular as it is to say.  I am in favor of women as combat soldiers, mostly because I harbor the belief that war is somehow less physical than it used to be, based more on stamina than raw hand-to-hand combat strength.  And teamwork is more important, where women excel.  But one-on-one, where strength or spatial ability is any factor--you'd be lucky to have one or two.  Women can compete, but in just about any sport the men separate themselves significantly at the top end.  That shapes relationships in ways that pretend equality ignores.
2. More importantly, while some find the ending to be a game-changer, I think it's a bit pat.  Katniss the conflicted hero takes out the scheming rebel leader who was looking only to be the evil President's replacement.  A decent human being gets elected instead.  It happens, but not without even more blood and tears than we see here, and that's the best case scenario.  Far more often in revolutions no heroes emerge at all.  For every Aung San Suu Kyi or Nelson Mandela, you have ten Nouri Al-Malikis or Thabo Mbekis.  Less often a Fidel Castro or Vladimir Lenin, who can lead and bring order but at a terrible price.  George Washingtons and Confucians are pretty rare.

It's easy to read more than is warranted into the series.  It's a powerful critique, but firmly rooted in the present, even though the themes are timeless.  The beauty of simple storytelling and well-represented emotions gives way to oversimplified solutions.  We see plenty of the simple banal evil of Coriolanus Snow.  Katniss is emotionally complex enough to see the way forward, but then hands off the resolution.  It's still a fine read, and a must if you want to be culturally literate.  Four stars.

Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins

Catching Fire is the second in the Hunger Games trilogy.  Second novels are the tough ones in trilogies, since they do not have the natural advantage of either introducing or finishing a story.  They pretty much just need to move things along, and that's happening just fine here.  Panem goes from decadent to desperate in this one as the districts start uprisings.  Katniss is the unwitting and unwilling spark.  The Arena becomes even more high-stakes in the Quarter Quell, when all the past champions are pitted against each other. Something has to break here, and it does--at the end we have yet another uprising and the surviving tributes taking part in a revolution.  But Katniss is not in on the secrets and is unhappy at being used as we close.

We see potential for a shift here.  Will Katniss come around and be the symbol?  Will she cave and sell them out?  Or something else?  Something Else is always the most interesting choice, but we won't see that until volume 3.  No new message here yet, so I'll give this one four stars and let's move on.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

I tend to read highly popular books well after their initial appearance.  The title of this blog suggests why--it's pretty difficult to read a brand-new best seller for free without being some sort of pirate.  So it is with The Hunger Games--the movies have revived interest, but wait times are now going down.  Also the books are short, so that most anyone can finish them before they are due.

The other thing about reading such a popular item is that it's hard to add to the canon on it--popular guides, world expansions and scholarly deconstructions are all available in quantity.  But I am committed to adding my two cents' worth, so here goes...

The best highly influential works of fiction are both timeless--they state deep truths about human nature--and time-bound--giving a future reader insight into the time and society in which they are written.  Usually one or the other dominates, and the less-apparent aspect is unpacked in subsequent commentary.  I suggest that Rowling's Harry Potter series is more of a timeless work--a long retelling of the story of Jesus (a subset of  Campbell's Hero's Journey).  The Hunger Games is much more the latter.  While it's a very good action story on the surface (thus accessible as a YA novel, much like Harry Potter), it is also a very open critique of American society in the early 21st century and where Collins thinks it is going.

The story itself is as old as the Roman gladiators.  The protagonist, Katniss, is part of a group of youth (the Tributes) sacrificed for the entertainment of the Capitol, because they can.  And it's all done up with the trappings of professional sports and fashion.  Boxing was the popular modern equivalent blood sport--mixed martial arts and American football represent two contemporary directions.

What's new and interesting here, and what I think will be revealing for readers fifty years from now, is the emphasis on style and commercialism in the blood sport.  Collins presents the game arena as a future reality show--Survivor on steroids.  The mentor and former winner Haymitch spends much more time coaching his protégés on winning sponsors and story making than on fighting skills.

There's no point in avoiding spoilers at this remove.  Obviously Katniss survives to appear in the next two books in the trilogy.  I give it four stars--not five because it's so straight-on that it feels more like a news report than a novel, even though it's written in the first person.  If you are just coming to it now, try to imagine what your grandchildren will bring to it.

The Citadel of the Autarch, by Gene Wolfe

With The Citadel of the Autarch I have finished Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun.  And I am certainly glad I reached back into my teen years to read it.

The last book finishes Severian's heroic journey.  Spoiler alert--I just feel like giving away the ending, so quit here if you don't want to know.  Severian continues his fall in his detached, almost elegiac way, making his way through war zones and abandoned places.  He learns the true nature of his associates Dr. Talos and Baldanders.  And in a quite unexpected twist (except that one gets the sense Severian almost DID expect it) he himself becomes the autarch.

Of course we knew this all along, because Severian is writing the account of his adventures and has already told us that he is the autarch.  But this is no story of a rise to power, though I kept expecting that given his capability.  No, it sneaks up on him--the current autarch (the absolute ruler of the country, and also the administrator of a brother) makes Severian his successor in a personal encounter.  We see the autarch's bravery, and hear more of it as Severian is told what must be done to bring the New Sun.  The previous autarch tried and failed, and survived as a eunuch.  Severian closes as he is about to embark on a voyage to try again.

The series won't raise the hairs on the back of your neck, but if you have any SF writing aspirations it is a must read.  I would also say that anyone who has read a lot of science fiction, but somehow skipped this one (as I had) should definitely read it.  Wolfe does much more than create a setting through these novels.  Through the unusual words (a mix of created and obscure) and the detachment of the tale he captures a very broad "feeling" of the time, the sense of winding down but with hope for a future.  He gives that a definite kick with his interesting appendices.

Severian pulls at us by portraying a jailer and torturer in about the best light one could do it.  The Torturers practice a detachment from the sentences they carry out, but it is not a cold detachment at all.  They care about their clients and try to make the torments and executions bearable.  They steadfastly do not judge.  Severian has a strong belief in the rightness of what he does, even as he knows others cannot understand it.  This extends to the entertainment qualities of executions and the careful details of "excruciations".  It's a challenging work to read and enjoy, but one simply revels in the mastery Wolfe displays.  I give it three stars, because it is such a stretch for most SF fans.  But by all means try it.

Wolfe, Gene - The Sword of the Lictor

I have now reached the third of Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun series.  The Sword of the Lictor continues Severian's heroic journey, and in this book he changes much more than in any other.  In the first two books, Severian is very detached from himself and his experiences.  Not quite to the point of dissociative disorder--he owns his actions--but he definitely stands outside himself.  In the third book he becomes more human--touched by others, but also greedy.  He forms a deep attachment to the Claw, the jewel he was supposedly carrying on behalf of the Pelerines, but maybe not so much anymore. 

His adventures become more fantastical than ever.  He meets more "cacogens", but can't really continue to call them that, as he gets to understand them better.  He still does not seem to know his path, but continues on. 

This book wasn't nominated for awards the way the first two were, but it is in many ways more powerful.  Mostly for the development of Severian as a fully rounded character.  In the appendix to the second book, Wolfe "speculates" that Severian's detachment is a result of encountering beings who have transcended the speed of light--they are outside of the Einsteinian universe, so react differently to it.  Not so much anymore.  Severian now journeys toward humanity.  3 stars.