Showing posts with label Orson Scott Card. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Orson Scott Card. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 June 2003

Orson Scott Card: Hart's Hope (1983)

Edition: Tor, 1988
Review number: 1165

There is an immense number of ways that fantasy authors have used to depict magic. Usually, particularly in writers who are just re-using the standard accoutrements of the genre, it is basically an alternate way to perform actions, or a way to do the impossible. This reduces it to a narrative convenience, which is not in the end terribly interesting unless it makes it possible for the author to concentrate on other things. There are few novels which present magic as something innate in the world yet disturbing; Hart's Hope is one of their number.

The plot of Hart's Hope is basically similar to that of many fantasy stories, a tale of magic and an usurped throne. A king, himself an usurper, is deposed by the daughter of the man he ousted. She was raped and discarded by him as part of the legitimization of his rule, but now, taking the name Beauty, she uses dark and forbidden magic not just to take her revenge but to submit the whole kingdom to an regime of unprecedented rigour - generally just by heaping obscene torments on the former king and his friends. She is even able to chain up the gods, rendering them virtually powerless. (Of them, the Hart is the symbol of masculine power, the Sisters of the feminine, while God has certain aspects of Christianity as it must have seemed to the pagans of northern Europe in the early Middle Ages.)

What makes Hart's Hope different is its atmosphere, which is cruel and dank, brutal and sordid. The nature of the magic in Card's world is part of this atmosphere; it is about the shedding of blood - by cutting oneself or by using menstrual blood, or, in the case of Beauty, by the sacrifice of a child carried to a ten month term. I was recently reading John Sutherland's book about puzzles in nineteenth century fiction, Is Heathcliff A Murderer?, and one of his articles comments on how strong a taboo there was against mentioning menstruation. Even in the twentieth century, with so many taboos broken that some writers seem to transgress for the sake of it, it is unusual to find a novel where menstrual blood has such an important (and uncontrived) place. This means that it provides a large part of the disturbing nature of magic in Hart's Hope.

This is quite early Orson Scott Card, and his work since has been more accessible and mainstream. Hart's Hope display at least as much imagination as any of Card's later writing, even if it is more difficult to get into.

Wednesday, 11 July 2001

Orson Scott Card: Children of the Mind (1996)

Edition: Orbit, 1999
Review number: 868

The story of Ender Wiggin, one of the most famous in modern science fiction, is brought to a close in this novel, originally intended to be part of Xenocide, from which it follows on immediately. The planet of Lusitania, home of the hive queen saved by Ender and of the third sentient species known to mankind, the pequeninos, is threatened with destruction by a fleet sent by the Starways Congress, because it is infected by the devastating descolada virus.

The virus has been genetically modified to make it harmless, but the fleet heading to Lusitania does not know this. This is because the instantaneous communication device, the ansible, is being turned off because a computer program has been detected using it to gain unauthorised access to computers across the galaxy (you would have thought that the people designing the network would have learned some of the security lessons of the twentieth century Internet). This program, known as Jane, is the last hope of Lusitania, as she is able to make use of the vast amount of computing power to move ships instantaneously - but as she loses access to machines she as rapidly losing the power to do so.

The plot of the novel is quite simple, being basically an unravelling of the strands in the situation inherited from Xenocide. The main interest is actually theological, something extremely unusual in genre fiction. Card has conceived of the soul as an immortal entity, normally inhabiting the Outside, a region beyond normal space and time used for the faster than light travel, but sometimes taking up residence in a sentient being. This is not a new idea, but Card looks at it in a new way. For example, the soul of Ender - Card calls them aiuas, probably to avoid the religious connotations of the word soul - is split between three bodies during his first trip Outside, one his own, and the others created from nothing in the images of his early siblings as they were in early adulthood, Valentine being that part of his personality he most admires and Peter that which he fears. The nature of the two of them is really the central theme of the novel, and is its biggest problem.

The plot is rather neatly worked out, and the writing gives something of the impression that once he'd planned it, Card lost interest, and that the Peter and Valentine characters are too one dimensional (being just aspects of another personality) for him to be interested in them. Things rather suddenly improve about two thirds of the way through, when the character of Ender looks as though he might die; this is something that the author can care about.

The aiua idea is interesting, but a bit problematic in a fictional setting because it is very tempting to use it as though it were a magic wand. It isn't too well defined, and so there are no rules that Card imposes on himself. As a result, Children of the Mind springs no surprises and has nothing to say. The relation between the material universe and the Outside is one of the areas left undefined; it would be interesting to have some issues in the novel which are more to do with how the physical and non-physical affect each other, as this is really at the heart of how Card's model could work.

The novel has smaller problems as well (the treatment of Japanese and Samoan culture, for example, feels perfunctory and stereotyped) and so is not among Card's best; it is a sad end to a wonderful series.

Tuesday, 24 April 2001

Orson Scott Card: The Shadow of the Hegemon (2000)

Edition: Orbit, 2001
Review number: 803

Following on from Ender's Shadow, this novel is the story of what happened to the Battle School graduates of Ender's Game after their return to Earth. Since it covers new ground rather than paralleling Speaker for the Dead, it is a much more involving novel than Ender's Shadow.

It puts the antagonism between Ender's lieutenant Bean and serial killer Achilles against the background of political and eventually military manoeuvring as the unity of facing the alien Buggers falls apart with the removal of the threat. Still only children, the military geniuses and immensely famous Battle School graduates are incredibly valuable as pawns and in their own right (though adult commanders find the second difficult to believe).

The children are well drawn characters, and the political background is fascinating if a bit like the scenario of a game of Risk (as Card admits in the afterword). Much better than Ender's Shadow, a most enjoyable piece of science fiction.

Friday, 26 January 2001

Orson Scott Card: Ender's Shadow (1999)

Edition: Orbit, 1999
Review number: 730

Ender's Game is one of the most popular and successful science fiction novels of all time. The sequels Card produced were less popular, though (or perhaps because) more adult and thought provoking. Now, Card has returned to the events of the first novel, and has written a companion to it rather than another sequel, retelling the same events from the perspective of another character, Ender's chief lieutenant Bean. The project was originally intended to let other writers set stories in the universe invented by Card, but he wrote the novel himself after becoming enthusiastic about the idea.

Basically, the two novels have the same plot - children trained in strategy to run an attack on the aliens known as the Buggers - with Bean's childhood taking the place of Ender's here. Bean is a nameless foundling, intelligent way beyond his years, who grows up in the street gangs infesting Rotterdam, which has a vast population of starving poor after being turned into somewhere for the world to dump refugees. Then he is noticed by a nun who is looking for the one who will be the saviour of the human race by leading the campaign against the Buggers, and is sent to the orbiting school which trains the children in strategy, principally through a team game which simulates tactical situations.

The best parts of Ender's Shadow are those which overlap with Ender's Game. That is partly because of the problems which Ender's Shadow has as a novel considered on its own. (That is, of course, difficult to do; it will always be compared to the better Ender's Game.) It lacks a certain freshness, sometimes just seeming to go through the motions. It is quite sentimental. Even in the Rotterdam gamgs, the children lack the believable nastiness present in, say, The Lord of the Flies. Card can write nasty children; in Ender's Game, the sibling rivalry between Peter and Ender Wiggin is an example, as is that between Calvin and Alvin in the Alvin Maker series. Here, however, even the serial killer Achilles does not provoke the uncomfortable reaction in the reader that he ought to. In addition, Ender's Shadow has a tacked on, sentimental ending, far less powerful than the remorse Ender grows into which fuels Speaker for the Dead.

If Ender's Game did not exist, this novel would be a reasonably competent piece of science fiction; but as it is, it will always be the poor relation of one of the classics of the genre.

Wednesday, 10 May 2000

Orson Scott Card: Journeyman Alvin (1995)

Edition: Tor, 1995
Review number: 496

After a gap of a few years, Card has continued this series, one of my favourites of the fantasy genre. It is set in a fascinating alternate history USA in which much of the country remains in the hands of the colonial powers, and where magic is relatively commonplace.

Alvin Journeyman picks up the story of Alvin (usually referred to as Smith or Maker, from his occupation and magical gifting respectively) where the previous books left off, and carries the story through the setbacks he experiences trying to teach something of his magic art to others, so that together they can build the Crystal City that Alvin has seen in visions. These setbacks include the enmity of his jealous brother Calvin, hysterical accusations from a besotted teenage girl, and a legal suit from the smith he served as apprentice.

The major characters continue to develop, though their over polarised nature (too much black and white) is a flaw of this novel as it was of its predecessors. The characters interact believably, and the climactic trial is well prepared. The backwoods American background, with the interesting twist provided by the alternate historical elements, is as convincing as ever. Alvin Journeyman is a fine addition to the series.

Thursday, 28 May 1998

Orson Scott Card: Earthfall (1995)

Edition: Tor, 1995
Earthfall coverReview number: 55



This is the fourth and final volume of Card's Homecoming series. The story of the series is that of one of earth's colonies, which has a satellite put up by the original, pacifist, colonisers to monitor the community and ensure that no technology capable of mass destruction is developed. It has the ability to influence the minds of the people on the world below it to ensure this happens. After forty million years, the satellite is beginning to wear out, and it gathers together a party to return to Earth.

Earthfall describes the trip to earth, with continuing hostility between Nafai and his elder brother Elemak. This has already reached a murderous pitch in the earlier books, and now the main issue is whether or not the enmity between them is to be continued into the next generation.

When they arrive on Earth, they discover that humans have died out; the dominant races are evolved bats ("angels") and rats ("diggers"), who live in perpetual a state of perpetual war. The small human community attempts to bring peace to the world, but these attempts are undermined by the continuing tension between themselves.

You need to read the other books in this series to have any hope of understanding this one. I felt that, like Card's Alvin Maker series, it started off strongly and rather tailed off at the end. This is partly because Earth and its colony form wildly different environments, and the portrayal of the future Earth is less well thought out than that of Basilica.