David Weber writes science fiction and fantasy. On Basilisk Station (1993) is the first in a series of books about the female spaceship captain Honor Harrington.
I have to start this review off with an explanation of sorts. I have this thing about Sci-Fi/Fantasy. It’s subjective as all hell and that’s why I feel the need to start with explaining my basic point of view.
A lot of the time I have this feeling that this kind of literature is so intent on creating a world and explaining it to the reader that the author loses sight of the main objective, which should be the telling of a story. The reader is given in-depth descriptions of various machines and theorems of space travel, or drug production, or alien biology or cryptozoological phenomenon. It isn’t Setting the Scene as much as it is just a way of showing that the author has done his homework.
I understand that some of the attraction lies in creating this vast world for the reader to inhabit and the idea there is that that’s the main objective of large chunks of text.
Let me be blisteringly clear just so we don’t misunderstand one another – I do just not have the patience.
For me the main thing is always the action and the interaction and the characters in and of themselves.
So the aspect of this type of literature that has to do with creating a world for me to live in nibbles at the notion that there is such a thing as objective reality to put it into contrast with, and philosophically speaking I’m not a great believer in objective reality. That means the endless gratuitous descriptions that are inherent in the genre do nothing for me. Oh, wait, that’s not true. They bore me.
So – now you know where I am coming from. Onwards.
On Basilisk Station does that thing where it leans heavily on literature like C.S. Forester’s The Hornblower series, but here we’re in space instead of fighting the Napoleonic Wars. This is competently written. The crew is described in detail and their interaction is important for the general progression of the action, so there’s that to take into account. Harrington herself is described and just like with so many of these kinds of books she is given certain specific characteristics which are produced again and again least we lose sight of what she is.
The basic story is that Harrington is given an impossible task (guarding the Basilisk Station) and that she prevails at great personal and material cost. She does come out of it richer in experience and in material goods and with newly made friends in high places and enemies likewise made that are going to cause her career problems, not that she didn’t have those already, considering her humble beginnings.
It follows a pretty steady course and it is adroitly written all the way through, up to and including the spaceship battles and the loss of men and machinery out there at the ass-end of the “civilised world”. The natives are treated pretty much the way natives do get treated in this particular setting, i.e. as staffage. The petty personal vendettas within the Royal Navy (yes, they are in service of the Queen, god help us all) are shown as instrumental in how someone like Harrington winds up where she is.
The novel itself is skilfully written, competent and well worked through and within its genre it is definitely not slouching in a corner. It’s a good read, the text flows and all the criterion are filled as neatly as ticking off boxes on a “how to” manual.
There’s an old adage “show, don’t tell” when it comes to writing. I think my issue with these genre pieces in general is that they are always listing heavily towards the “tell” side. It is their nature and it is the thing that attracts its fans. They will no doubt get a kick out of this one.
I, however, can only view it through my total and utter rejection of that style of writing. So despite the fact that it is good within those set parameters I don’t really enjoy it. It’s my nature, you understand, and no slight on Weber for that.
If you like this kind of thing, though, this is probably right up your alley and by all means, more power to you.
The trick about reviewing books is to understand that there is no real objectivity in what you do unless you can see the merits of literature despite your own particular taste and inclination. I just wanted to put that out there so you understand my reviews for what they are.
Mule
Ada – Or Ardor: A Family Chronicle by Nabokov
November 15, 2009
Ada was first published in 1969 and is the work of Vladimir Nabokov.
I’m a Nabokov fan.
I admit it willingly and take my chances. Lolita is one of my favourite novels.
The first thing you have to do when approaching one of Nabokov’s works is resign yourself to the fact that you are going to be swamped by words, imagery, references and literary connotations that will most certainly take you out of your comfort zone no matter how erudite you are.
Case in point – Ada.
I am sufficiently proud of knowing something that I don’t need to pretend I know everything. I am contented by looking up notes in the back of the book explaining the sometimes very recondite references and jokes based on word play in Russian, French and English. Polyglot intellectuals volleying intense word puns at each other (throw in some Latin for good measure) makes for focused reading.
Some readers no doubt find that kind of thing off-putting. I am not one of them. I read and enjoyed “The Wasteland” while other’s in my Lit. class wanted to punch T.S. Eliot in the mouth for not saying what he meant. They argued the point until I calmly stated most of their vehemence was clearly based in the fact that they felt stupid. Ada will surely have the same effect if you are expecting a light read.
The two principle characters are Van Veen and Ada, two cousins that fall in love and have an intense affair in their younger years. They believe themselves to be cousins, and their fathers are cousins and their mothers are sisters. They later discover that they are, in fact, brother and sister.
The story is told in manuscript form, as the recollections of a full grown Van – and folded into the text are Ada’s notes into the margin.
As it is with Lolita, so it is with Ada. The story in itself is rich and textured, lending itself to all kinds of reasoning about a great many topics, philosophy and morals not withstanding as well as literature and art. The structure is of the same complicated nature as well. It’s recollections and oblique passages, comments in the margin, some things gone over and re-glossed, and so on and so forth. It also deals with time as a theme and that’s always a little tricky.
Nabokov is a word nerd. A large part of the pleasure in reading his work comes from the painstakingly carefully wrought crenellations of his style.
And the subject matter might seem simple, even tawdry, at a cursory glance, but good lord, the man can write. The further into the material you go, the more intense it gets. Even if the basic premise is this life long love story between siblings and the occasional duel, threesome, descriptions of brothels and pick nicks in the green, jealousy, philial hate and love, the many tentacled social constellations and so on and so forth – there is still more to parse. It’s not tawdry, never boring and … oh, did I mention the science fiction element? No? Well, this takes place in a Terra/Antiterra not-quite here and now or when and never alternate, but sort of parallel universe.
This is one of those novels that doesn’t hide it’s ambitious nature, it’s literariness and you just have to grab the reins and hold on. It’s not a book you should pick up if you want distraction and an easy read. If you want quality and a challenge, though, this is the way to go.
But, then, I would think that – I am a fan.
Mule
