Much longer than the first part "Ilium" - "Olympos" is a difficult read, and less rewarding than "Ilium." The stories start to intertwine and unify, but differently from the narratives spun in "Ilium." Firstly, Thomas Hockenberry, PhD, barely appears in the 900+ pages of "Olympos" and when he does, it is mostly non-consequential, simply an observer speaking his thoughts aloud. Mahmut and Orfu, the two most likeable characters in the entire saga, get a bit more screen time, but not that much either, besides saving the day by cutting the submarine "Sword of Allah" into pieces and removing the 768 black hole warheads, while at the same time saving Harmon and Ardas Hall's residents.
And what about Prospero? Noman says towards the end that the entity known as Prospero is completely mad, but does that mean all its actions before were that of a mad entity? And it just disappears after Sycorax/Circe sail away on fusion reactors built into their asteroid with Noman only to appear at the end of the book to play the Shakespearean character in an actual play? Setebus just leaves when Caliban tells it that The Quiet is coming? Just like that? Not even final words (except the ones scratched in the organic blue ice by Caliban)? Why did Caliban not leave with his mother Sycorax and Noman? What was the purpose of the organic blue ice by Setebos? Why did The Quiet never come?
And the 'genius' creation effect is well overused and over-hyped. The idea that the literary/fantasy characters are real and alive in some parallel universes is just as silly and simplistic as the idea of infinite number of "parallel" universes (whatever "parallel" means to you). The logical conclusion of having infinite number of universes where infinite number of possibilities are being played out is chaos and madness. Different 'dimensions' are sometimes substituted for 'parallel' universes, which lead to just about the same result of insanity. For all practical purposes, there's only one universe, and it has 3+1 dimensions.... and that's it. Please work with that material budding sci-fi writers - the quadrillion galaxies with 100 billion stars each is large enough playing field for any purpose.
This dilogy is of a lesser quality than the Hyperion/Endymion quintology, including the literary references used. While Hyperion relied on parallels with Keat's Hyperion and Chaucer's Tales, which the author was apparently very intimately familiar with, and used them tastefully and appropriately, the Ilium/Olympos dilogy uses over a dozen different writers and literary works, often with very dubious connections and relevance, making the references feel weak, artificial and forced. Simmons is very familiar with Shakespeare and Homer, but not as much with the other works and authors he uses. The personification of The Tempest characters as monsters/gods/avatars does not work very well, especially mixed with Homeric characters and references, even though Simmons makes this one of the main pillars of the novel.
The following writers and works are referenced in Ilium/Olympos, divided in 3 groups, primary, secondary and tertiary (the primary ones being requisite to fully understand the dilogy, the secondary adding relatively large amount understanding, but not being essential, while the tertiary works will help the reader understand occasional tangential references):
Primary:
The Iliad, Homer
The Tempest, William Shakespeare
The Time Machine, H. G. Wells
Caliban Upon Setebos, Robert Browning
Secondary:
In Search of Lost Time, Marcel Proust
Ada: or Ardor, Vladimir Nabokov
Ulysses, Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ulysses, James Joyce
Sonnets, Shakespeare
Tertiary:
A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Henry IV, William Shakespeare
Around the World in Eighty Days, Jules Verne
Pinocchio, Carlo Collodi
Queen Mab, Percy Shelly.
Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
Works and Days, Hesiod.
The book ending with staging "The Tempest" at Ardas Town with Prospero playing himself was cheeky, very cheeky.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
"Ilium" by Dan Simmons
I have to honestly admit that my main motivation for reading Ilium was the fact that I enjoyed immensely his 5-part story of Hyperion and Endymion. Being familiar with the Ancient Greek legends on the matter (but not with the poems by Keats), I found the previous works just the right amount literary-resurectionism and the right amount of science, fiction and interesting characters. I am sorry to say Ilium is not at the same level of craft, although still a good book in it's own merit (hey it won the Locus award!).
Ilium seems to borrow it's main storyline from Homer's "The Illiad" about the besieged city of Troy (or Ilium, or Pergamon, or many other names), starting near the end of the 9th and the beginning of the 10th (and final) year of the Trojan War. All the Achayan/Argive/"Greek" heroes from the Iliad are there, and all their father's names, their shields and armor and oiled, muscled bodies, etc. etc. The 'main' protagonist of the book, Thomas Hockenberry, is a resurected 20/21 century PhD on the Iliad, and the 'new' Olympic gods use him and other "scholics" (maybe from "scholis" - a comentary on the edge of a book) are obesrving the Trojan War and reporting to the gods, who themselves do not know the outcome (except Zeus).
Another line of narration (out of 3 here, considerably less than the near-dozen in Hyperion), is about two "Morovecs" - basically organic-metal cyborgs who are created by 21st century human to explore the dangerous outer Solar System (mostly Jupiter and Saturn moons) and are give self-consciousness and the ability to self-evolve. Mahnmuth from Europa and Orfu of Io are two very different, but also quite similar cyborgs (why "Morovecs" Dan? Do we need more confusing terms when 'cyborg' pretty much covers everything? I respect Dr. Hans Morovec too, but please lighter on the new terminology).
The third line of narration has to do with some of the last remaining 'humans' on earth, after the post-humans have left it as something overgrown, just like they did with their own bodies. Daemon and Harmon and Ada and the rest of the menagerie (Odysseus!) are finding the ugly truth about their overindulgent civilization, or lack thereof. Here is where Simmons borrows from both Wells' "Time Machine" and Nabokov's "Ada, or Ardor" although the borrowing is only on the surface, not going into the deep symbology of the previous two works, especially Nabokov's. Later in the book, and especially in the sequel "Olympos" - pretty much the entire cast and geography from Shakespeare's "The Tempest" will be re-worked in Sci-Fi.
I am not sure the literary-sci-fi works for me in Ilium/Olympos. It definitely worked in Hyperion, both Chaucer and Keats, but here it feels forced and somewhat fake. Rendering Setebus and Caliban as the main bad guys also feels forced, especially if you know The Tempest. It is enough that I need to remember all the hundreds (thousands?) of names from the Iliad, and who killed/raped/maimed whom and in what order - mixing all the other books in just makes a big mess.
And the technology. Oh, the technology in Sci-Fi. The bane of all non-engineers writers (Simmons was an English instructor). While in Hyperion the technology seems very fleshed-out and fitting (even the backward traveling Time Tombs and the cruciform), here it seems amateurish and fake. The 'fax' nodes are just rehashing of the gates from Hyperion. The 'sauni' flying machine is pretty ridiculous. The 'voynix' and the related Voynich manuscript could use waaaay more development, and no, leaving it 'unsaid' does not add to the mystery (especially for the ones who are very familiar with the Voynich manuscript, it just doesn't fly). The orbital rings could use way more background, and so could the 'firmary' technology, healing tanks, blue/green worms, the "healer of the gods", the Rock-vecs/Morovecs culture, motivation, psychology (why?). Even the BS about Quantum Teleportation, Brane Holes, 'parallel' universes and the very concept that consciousness is just a material phenomenon arising from complexity (nope) - are all just amateurishly thrown together.
And don't start me on the length of these two books (700+ and 900+ pages)! They could have been half their current lengths and just as effective (or more). Still, an enjoyable summer/commute read. I wish there was more Proust in the book, but you can see that Simmons is an expert on Keats, and to some extent on Shakespeare, but the rest of his knowledge of authors is at the level of university literature courses, not decades-long independent study.
Ilium seems to borrow it's main storyline from Homer's "The Illiad" about the besieged city of Troy (or Ilium, or Pergamon, or many other names), starting near the end of the 9th and the beginning of the 10th (and final) year of the Trojan War. All the Achayan/Argive/"Greek" heroes from the Iliad are there, and all their father's names, their shields and armor and oiled, muscled bodies, etc. etc. The 'main' protagonist of the book, Thomas Hockenberry, is a resurected 20/21 century PhD on the Iliad, and the 'new' Olympic gods use him and other "scholics" (maybe from "scholis" - a comentary on the edge of a book) are obesrving the Trojan War and reporting to the gods, who themselves do not know the outcome (except Zeus).
Another line of narration (out of 3 here, considerably less than the near-dozen in Hyperion), is about two "Morovecs" - basically organic-metal cyborgs who are created by 21st century human to explore the dangerous outer Solar System (mostly Jupiter and Saturn moons) and are give self-consciousness and the ability to self-evolve. Mahnmuth from Europa and Orfu of Io are two very different, but also quite similar cyborgs (why "Morovecs" Dan? Do we need more confusing terms when 'cyborg' pretty much covers everything? I respect Dr. Hans Morovec too, but please lighter on the new terminology).
The third line of narration has to do with some of the last remaining 'humans' on earth, after the post-humans have left it as something overgrown, just like they did with their own bodies. Daemon and Harmon and Ada and the rest of the menagerie (Odysseus!) are finding the ugly truth about their overindulgent civilization, or lack thereof. Here is where Simmons borrows from both Wells' "Time Machine" and Nabokov's "Ada, or Ardor" although the borrowing is only on the surface, not going into the deep symbology of the previous two works, especially Nabokov's. Later in the book, and especially in the sequel "Olympos" - pretty much the entire cast and geography from Shakespeare's "The Tempest" will be re-worked in Sci-Fi.
I am not sure the literary-sci-fi works for me in Ilium/Olympos. It definitely worked in Hyperion, both Chaucer and Keats, but here it feels forced and somewhat fake. Rendering Setebus and Caliban as the main bad guys also feels forced, especially if you know The Tempest. It is enough that I need to remember all the hundreds (thousands?) of names from the Iliad, and who killed/raped/maimed whom and in what order - mixing all the other books in just makes a big mess.
And the technology. Oh, the technology in Sci-Fi. The bane of all non-engineers writers (Simmons was an English instructor). While in Hyperion the technology seems very fleshed-out and fitting (even the backward traveling Time Tombs and the cruciform), here it seems amateurish and fake. The 'fax' nodes are just rehashing of the gates from Hyperion. The 'sauni' flying machine is pretty ridiculous. The 'voynix' and the related Voynich manuscript could use waaaay more development, and no, leaving it 'unsaid' does not add to the mystery (especially for the ones who are very familiar with the Voynich manuscript, it just doesn't fly). The orbital rings could use way more background, and so could the 'firmary' technology, healing tanks, blue/green worms, the "healer of the gods", the Rock-vecs/Morovecs culture, motivation, psychology (why?). Even the BS about Quantum Teleportation, Brane Holes, 'parallel' universes and the very concept that consciousness is just a material phenomenon arising from complexity (nope) - are all just amateurishly thrown together.
And don't start me on the length of these two books (700+ and 900+ pages)! They could have been half their current lengths and just as effective (or more). Still, an enjoyable summer/commute read. I wish there was more Proust in the book, but you can see that Simmons is an expert on Keats, and to some extent on Shakespeare, but the rest of his knowledge of authors is at the level of university literature courses, not decades-long independent study.
"What I talk about when I talk about running" by Haruki Murakami
This is one of the few Murakami books that I have in hardcover, print, not electronic or audio book. It is a short book (less than 200 pages), but I waited a long time to have enough spare time to read it in one or two go's. Finally the time came. I finished it in two days. It consists of 5-6 chapters, each written over a 15 year span, at one place or another on the globe. The book title is borrowed from a short story writer Murakami translated, but that's the least interesting part.
It is much more interesting how Murakami decided to become a writer when he was 32 and already had a successful Jazz bar in Tokyo. With no writing experience, or even time to write, he finished his first book (on baseball) in the little breaks he had around the 24/7 obligations of running a restaurant/bar. He was even more surprised when his first book won a prestigious 'New Writers' award.
At about the same time he started writing - he also started running. Gave up smoking after a little while, then started putting his body in shape, eventually running more than 25 full marathons and even one ultra-marathon (65 miles) where he had a spiritual experience (and almost got permanently injured). For him writing and running go together, and are based on similar principles, discipline and methodology. Many writers around the world (both living and dead) would disagree with him and fall more into the 'classical' write stereotype of heavy drinking, intoxication, vagrancy, loose women and other sins. But it worked for Murakami.
Besides running and writing, the book is also Murakami's meditation on aging and mortality. The book covers his life from his late twenties to late fifties and he's more than noticed the changes in his body, his stamina, his constitution and predominantly in his psyche that come with age. He is not afraid of aging, or raging against it, but finds more of a challenge to continue doing what he was doing, the way he was doing it, as years progress. The book has that subtle, warm coziness that all his novels have, making the reader feel that it is all OK, whatever it is - it's OK.
It is much more interesting how Murakami decided to become a writer when he was 32 and already had a successful Jazz bar in Tokyo. With no writing experience, or even time to write, he finished his first book (on baseball) in the little breaks he had around the 24/7 obligations of running a restaurant/bar. He was even more surprised when his first book won a prestigious 'New Writers' award.
At about the same time he started writing - he also started running. Gave up smoking after a little while, then started putting his body in shape, eventually running more than 25 full marathons and even one ultra-marathon (65 miles) where he had a spiritual experience (and almost got permanently injured). For him writing and running go together, and are based on similar principles, discipline and methodology. Many writers around the world (both living and dead) would disagree with him and fall more into the 'classical' write stereotype of heavy drinking, intoxication, vagrancy, loose women and other sins. But it worked for Murakami.
Besides running and writing, the book is also Murakami's meditation on aging and mortality. The book covers his life from his late twenties to late fifties and he's more than noticed the changes in his body, his stamina, his constitution and predominantly in his psyche that come with age. He is not afraid of aging, or raging against it, but finds more of a challenge to continue doing what he was doing, the way he was doing it, as years progress. The book has that subtle, warm coziness that all his novels have, making the reader feel that it is all OK, whatever it is - it's OK.
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