China Mountain Zhang (1992) depicts a 22nd century, post-revolutionary America, which has become a Chinese Communist State after a Cleansing Winds Campaign.

The main protagonist, Zhang Zhong Shan (China Mountain Zhang), is a gay man living within a system that despises homosexuality — to the point of capital punishment for ‘guilty’ persons.

More than half the novel is concerned with Zhang, but his story is interspersed with chapters focusing on other characters that have a fleeting connection with Zhang. The stories not directly involving Zhang were interesting, but were not dovetailed seamlessly into the main narrative: I found the ‘other’ stories slightly intrusive.

Zhang struggles to find a peaceful place in society, as do the characters in the other chapters.

There are some intriguing ideas (e.g.: Organic Engineering (not bioengineering) and cyber-kite flying), and there are fascinating  settings that range from New York to Baffin Island, the Imperial City in China, and Mars.

China Mountain Zhang was an enjoyable read; it didn’t blow me away, but it was interesting enough to ensure that I’ll read more of Maureen F. McHugh’s works.

Recommended.

I really wanted to like this book, but it didn’t quite work for me. It garnered glittering reviews, and the few that didn’t appreciate the novel seemed to focus on the difficulty of unexplained jargon in the first third of the story

[There is a plethora of undefined, eccentric terms tossed into the story at the beginning, but things sorted themselves out quite nicely as I kept reading. A glossary would have been a nice addition; and, in case you plan on reading The Quantum Thief, there is a glossary at Wikipedia]

The problems I had were more related to character and story: I prefer characters to be more fully developed than they are in this novel, and the story, though at times interesting, didn’t have enough depth to carry the novel.
The novel was plot driven, which, for a light-reading experience, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There were some interesting flourishes — for example, the gogols, alluding to Dead Souls, by Nikolai Gogol — but the plot was filled with resolutions that depended on various forms of deus ex machina: it seemed more like the running commentary of a computer game than a novel. I think the book would appeal to MMRPG (massively multiplayer role playing game) enthusiasts who enjoy reading.

The author, Hannu Rajaniemi, has a PhD in String Theory and has created an interesting phantasmagoria within (I assume) a realistic depiction of theoretical physics. The story delves far beyond cyber-punk; it is set in a future that has left humanity behind, where the synthesis of human and machine has spawned a solar system filled with god-like beings, incredible possibilities, and deadly weapons.
The story moved along at a quick pace, and I enjoyed the imaginative architecture of the author’s world-building; but, as a novel, it wasn’t quite my cup of tea.

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Look to Windward (2000) is another of Iain M. Banks literate, grand space-operas set within the interstellar society of the Culture. For those unfamiliar, Mr. Banks has written several stand-alone novels about the Culture, an exceedingly affluent and powerful civilization that places a high value on individual rights and liberty and has an uncomfortable habit of intervening in the business of other civilizations. Their ‘interventions’ are undertaken with the Culture’s best intentions, although their secret military branch (Special Circumstances) believes that the ends justify the means, and their actions sometimes have disastrous consequences (in case the reader misses the connection, Banks gives a hint that the novel’s politics resemble affairs in our own world: he dedicated the book to the Gulf War Veterans). And it is a disastrous consequence that drives the plot of Look to Windward. Prior to the events portrayed in the novel, agents of the Culture had attempted to dissolve a repressive, hierarchical social system and their actions precipitated a devastating civil-war in the Chelgrian civilization.

There are three main threads to the story:

i) Ziller, a famous Chelgrian composer, spurned the oppressive caste-system of Chel and left his society to live with the Culture citizens of Masaq’. He has composed a new work that he will conduct during an historic event on Masaq’.

ii) Quilan, an ambassador from Chel, travels to Masaq’; allegedly on a mission to convince Ziller to return to Chel, but Quilan, a former soldier, has a darker mission that is slowly revealed as the novel proceeds

iii) a young scientist studies an inscrutable, sentient dirigible within the thriving, internal ecology of a colossal gas bubble that roams through space (as an aside, my inner-geek really appreciated this thread, which epitomizes Banks’ ability to converge and diverge).

There isn’t much wiz-bang action, and the novel develops slowly, but the threads eventually intertwine to form an interesting conclusion.

I could have done without the vindictive, sadistic assassinations at the end, and I have some other quibbles, not the least of which is the fact that I’ve yet to read a book by Iain M. Banks that has completely blown me away as a novel. He writes well, creates an intricate story, has an exceptional imagination, fills his characters with depth, and is able to maintain my interest throughout the book, but his endings leave me oddly unfulfilled. Then again, perhaps this is exactly what he intends.

Recommended

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Stanislaw Lem (1921–2006) is probably best known for his science fiction novel Solaris.

His writings (fiction, essays, and philosophical books) investigate philosophy, technological possibilities, the nature of sentience, the difficulties inherent in communication (whether between humans, or intra-species), the foibles of humanity, and our niche in the cosmos.

Solaris (1961) was ahead of its time and was an atypical ‘first contact’ novel. What would happen if humanity contacted an intelligence so alien that it had no similarity to our pre-conceived ideas of sentience? And how would we communicate, study, classify, and understand (and, ultimately, control) it?

In the novel, humanity has set up a research station in orbit around Solaris, a planet covered with water. The researchers document the ‘behaviour’ of the waters of Solaris as ocean waves transform into incredible, awesome, intense patterns that defy science. As the researchers gather data, they are haunted by enigmatic, impossible visitations from within their individual psyches. Is the ocean of Solaris attempting to communicate? And, if so, is humanity ready for the encounter?

There have been two movie versions (1972, and 2002), but please read the book.

Solaris is an extraordinary science fiction novel.

Highly recommended.

I have the science fiction genre to thank for my introduction to the world of books, and all of the works listed below provided an enjoyable reading experience at some point in my life:

The Man in the High Castle (1962), Philip K. Dick [Hugo Award]

Star Maker (1937), Olaf Stapledon

Neuromancer (1984), William Gibson [Nebula, Philip K. Dick, and Hugo Awards]

The Left Hand of Darkness (1969), Ursula K. Le Guin [Hugo and Nebula Awards]

Dune (1965), Frank Herbert [Hugo and Nebula awards]

A Perfect Vacuum (1971), Stanislaw Lem [Translated from the Polish by Michael Kandel]

Gateway (1977), Frederick Pohl [Nebula, Philip K. Dick, and Hugo Award winner]

The Book of the New Sun (1980 – 83), Gene Wolfe [The books in the series won various awards: the World Fantasy, British Science Fiction, John W. Campbell Memorial, and Nebula]

More Than Human (1953), Theodore Sturgeon

The Science Fiction Hall of Fame (1970), Edited by Robert Silverberg

Ender’s Game (1985), Orson Scott Card [Hugo and Nebula Awards]

The Foundation Trilogy (1951 – 53), Isaac Asimov

Schlock, it certainly was, but  the cast mix was progressive for the mid-late 1960s; TV was still pretty white-bread and stereotypical back then. The cast included:

  • James Tiberius Kirk, Captain, and an American (from Ohio, but we all know he’s really Canadian)
  • Pavel Andreievich Chekhov, an Ensign, and a Russian (starting in the 2nd season (1967-68); remember, this was during the Cold War)
  • Nyota Uhura, Lieutenant, the Communications Officer, and one of the first characters of African descent to be on a TV show
  • Hikaru Sulu, Lieutenant, Helmsman, of Asian (Japanese) descent (note: in the 2nd pilot he was a physicist).

Moreover, in the 1st pilot episode a woman was second in command (‘Number One‘: the actress ended up with a much smaller role as Nurse Christine Chapel; apparently, the Network Executives were stuck in the past with the rest of us). I think that the only character that survived the 1st pilot episode was Spock; I suppose you could say he lived long and prospered.

For more information (including other Star Trek incarnations), check out this website