Guest post by Joan Slonczewski, science fiction author:
In 2000 I started to write about a student who went to college in space to escape disasters on Earth. The decade that followed saw 9/11, the Asian tsunami, hurricane Katrina, the immigrant crisis, the Burmese Python in the Everglades, the new Depression, and Deepwater. So it sure was the decade to escape.
In the next century, Jenny Ramos Kennedy's hometown of Somers, New York, is now full of kudzu and Cuban tree frogs. Carbon emissions are long banned, but the new source of global warming is the vast tracts of solar cells that turn landscape into desert. Antarctica has half thawed, and armies fight over its new farmland. Meanwhile, the ozone hole lets in so much ultraviolet that mysterious UV-absorbing aliens have moved in, the ultraphytes. To get rid of these alien plant-animals, Homeworld Security runs the War on Ultra.
So Jenny goes to Frontera College in an orbital space habitat, or spacehab, built to colonize in case Earth falls apart altogether. Spacehabs get financed by casinos, which are big because the entire tax system was replaced by taxplayers. Evangelical churches teach that the universe revolves around the Earth, and that whatever happens outside Earth is exempt from the Bible; so the offworld spacehabs are where anything goes.
Frontera classes are mostly on Toynet, the universal direct-brain internet invented by a six-year-old genius to play with toys. Still, teachers, administrators, and evangelical colonists all make their demands and the spacehab has its own disasters. While set in the future, this book has a lot to say about life today in Internet-driven global-warmed America. It will interest high school students thinking about college, and college students wondering what their teachers are really up to and anyone looking for an adventure off our disaster-challenged planet.
To read the first chapter of Frontera (and enter for a chance to win a book) go to http://bioscifi.kenyon.edu/index.php/Frontera.
Showing posts with label Joan Slonczewski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joan Slonczewski. Show all posts
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Daughter of Elysium e-book
During the month of June, the publisher for Joan Slonczewski's Elysium Cycle, Phoenix Pick, is offering free access to the e-book version of Daughter of Elysium via the catalog, PPickings, with this coupon code: KQ25S.
Here is a chance to read an outstanding work of science fiction for free.
Here is a chance to read an outstanding work of science fiction for free.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Children Star
Joan Slonczewski is a friend of mine and has been for almost twenty years now, so my copy of her SF novel that is dedicated to me and Ron, The Children Star, was a gift from her in 1998. I reread it recently during the process of getting it ready to be re-issued as a print-on-demand book, and marveled again at the strangeness of the aliens.
At first the characters, some of them familiar from previous novels, don't even recognize the aliens as sentient life-forms. They don't realize the aliens are trying to speak to them. They don't understand the mechanism by which the life-forms control the weather on their planet. They don't even see them. They are as likely to kill millions of aliens as they are to swat a bug.
These strange aliens are from a planet called Prokaryon where everything is round and poisonous. Humans have to be "life-shaped" to live there:
"merely inhaling Prokaryan air would expose their unprepared lungs to poison; for the native life-forms had evolved all sorts of things that the ordinary human body was not designed to encounter, much less digest for food. Their triplex chromosomes were mutagenic, their "proteins" contained indigestible amino acids, and their membranes were full of arsenic."
The few human settlers on the planet contend with "wheelgrass" and "loopleaves" when trying to walk, and with "a whirr-clouded tumbleround" stopping outside their window, which "generally rooted and grew in one spot for a long while; but under certain conditions, perhaps nitrogen deficiency, some of its vines would root themselves in the ground at one edge, then contract, pulling the organism to tumble it over slightly. More vines then rooted down, and so forth; once the tumbleround got going, it could travel several meters per day, trampling and digesting whatever vegetation crossed its path. Scientists disputed whether they were more animal or plant, zooid or phycoid."
The scientists at first think that "singing-trees are the real intelligence controlling this planet" because they see bursts of light and correctly interpret them as language. "We did try to respond," one says, "but never caught on in time, and the natives gave up." Why they gave up becomes apparent when the "natives" of the planet begin corresponding with some of the main characters from inside their own bodies. The aliens turn out to be microzooids, capable of taking over the human nervous system and bestowing reward or punishment. Eventually they also turn out to be capable of "life-forming" a human to be able to live on their home planet, and what they want in exchange is space travel, undertaken over generations of microzooid lives and within human ones.
The children star, a myth told to a child before she is rescued from her dying home planet and taken to Prokaryon, turns out to be a world full of sentient microorganisms for whom time passes so quickly that within a few months, entire generations of their "children" have created unique cultures inside each human brave enough to accept a colony.
I'm amazed to claim as a friend a person who seemingly has such an easy time bypassing one of the traditional problems of science fiction, namely how to create an alien who will seem really alien, rather than just another form of a bug-eyed monster. And along the way, she makes suggestions on how to "confront the mutants before they destroy the earth" or any other planet, which gives this novel an exciting plot that makes the details of biology seem almost incidental, like the elven languages in The Lord of the Rings or the map of the world in Eragon.
Do you also like to read fantasy or science fiction based on a world so detailed that only a small part of the backstory makes it into the actual story, or that requires two or more sequels to explore the relationships between some of the most important details?
At first the characters, some of them familiar from previous novels, don't even recognize the aliens as sentient life-forms. They don't realize the aliens are trying to speak to them. They don't understand the mechanism by which the life-forms control the weather on their planet. They don't even see them. They are as likely to kill millions of aliens as they are to swat a bug.
These strange aliens are from a planet called Prokaryon where everything is round and poisonous. Humans have to be "life-shaped" to live there:
"merely inhaling Prokaryan air would expose their unprepared lungs to poison; for the native life-forms had evolved all sorts of things that the ordinary human body was not designed to encounter, much less digest for food. Their triplex chromosomes were mutagenic, their "proteins" contained indigestible amino acids, and their membranes were full of arsenic."
The few human settlers on the planet contend with "wheelgrass" and "loopleaves" when trying to walk, and with "a whirr-clouded tumbleround" stopping outside their window, which "generally rooted and grew in one spot for a long while; but under certain conditions, perhaps nitrogen deficiency, some of its vines would root themselves in the ground at one edge, then contract, pulling the organism to tumble it over slightly. More vines then rooted down, and so forth; once the tumbleround got going, it could travel several meters per day, trampling and digesting whatever vegetation crossed its path. Scientists disputed whether they were more animal or plant, zooid or phycoid."
The scientists at first think that "singing-trees are the real intelligence controlling this planet" because they see bursts of light and correctly interpret them as language. "We did try to respond," one says, "but never caught on in time, and the natives gave up." Why they gave up becomes apparent when the "natives" of the planet begin corresponding with some of the main characters from inside their own bodies. The aliens turn out to be microzooids, capable of taking over the human nervous system and bestowing reward or punishment. Eventually they also turn out to be capable of "life-forming" a human to be able to live on their home planet, and what they want in exchange is space travel, undertaken over generations of microzooid lives and within human ones.
The children star, a myth told to a child before she is rescued from her dying home planet and taken to Prokaryon, turns out to be a world full of sentient microorganisms for whom time passes so quickly that within a few months, entire generations of their "children" have created unique cultures inside each human brave enough to accept a colony.
I'm amazed to claim as a friend a person who seemingly has such an easy time bypassing one of the traditional problems of science fiction, namely how to create an alien who will seem really alien, rather than just another form of a bug-eyed monster. And along the way, she makes suggestions on how to "confront the mutants before they destroy the earth" or any other planet, which gives this novel an exciting plot that makes the details of biology seem almost incidental, like the elven languages in The Lord of the Rings or the map of the world in Eragon.
Do you also like to read fantasy or science fiction based on a world so detailed that only a small part of the backstory makes it into the actual story, or that requires two or more sequels to explore the relationships between some of the most important details?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The Sagan Diary
Sometimes I bring in real, live authors (in person or via the internet) and give my class the chance to ask them questions. Oddly enough--or so it seems to me--the one they always ask is some version of "how did you get inspired to write this book we've been assigned?" And this is usually after at least five weeks of me working on them to think--and read--more critically. "Can't you think of some more interesting questions?" I ask. "Don't you want to know why Jack, in Lauren McLaughlin's Cycler, is emerging more often as the story progresses?" Or I think to myself "wouldn't you like to see who would crack first if John Scalzi's Consu face off against Joan Slonczewski's Sharers?" (By the way, this is an idea for Who's More Awesome if it could be done as well as some of the previous posts like Ferrets vs. Poseidon or Sasquatch vs. The Abominable Snowman).
For me, at least, knowing too much about an author's inspiration is a bit like watching Peter Jackson's special features on the DVD of The Fellowship of the Ring--Legolas and Arwen, in particular, looked and sounded enough like how I'd imagined them all my life that it was an unpleasant surprise to hear how the actors sounded without lines to read. Sometimes it's better not to know, because then you can continue to imagine.
But some of us just can't resist reading everything available by our favorite authors. And so I got a copy of The Sagan Diary for my birthday, and I read it. I expected it to be what a previous reviewer calls it, a "contrapuntal work" to the three novels in the Old Man's War series (Old Man's War, The Ghost Brigades, The Lost Colony). But there's nothing in it that I hadn't already inferred from reading those books. There's a section in the chapter entitled "Speaking" about Jane's relationship to language that doesn't go any farther towards explaining the point of view of one who was born able to communicate mind-to-mind than the novel that introduced the idea did. Why I thought the diary might be able to, I don't know--it's the age-old science fiction conundrum of how can you imagine an alien with no mouth? Or no eyes, etc. It's almost impossible not to have some substitute for eating or seeing, because even human language--most of our metaphors--is so wrapped around those methods of sensory experience.
Also I was disillusioned to find a sketch of the character Jane Sagan looking exactly like the photos of Scalzi's wife that he posts on his website from time to time. Too much information! I had my own picture of Jane, and she was smarter, stronger, faster, braver--and more mysterious--than any human woman in existence could ever be. Plus, I don't like the implication that the hero is based on the author, because the author has already succeeded in making him larger than life. Why poke a tiny hole in the Macy's parade balloon of "The Heroic John Perry" just to see if he'll start zooming around on his strings and making that amusing brrrrff noise?
I was entertained by the preface, in which a military analyst complains about how useless the diary is for her purposes. Very eighteenth-century, preface-reading. I'm always quite agreeably entertained when a modern writer makes good use of the tradition.
I was puzzled by the lengthy appendix, a list of names, none of which I recognized from the Old Man's War novels, until I discovered that they are the names of people who pre-ordered the first edition of The Sagan Diary. Okay, harmless enough, but why preserve that appendix in the mass-market edition?
Have you ever procured a copy of something supplemental to the main works of an author of whom you are extraordinary fond and been a bit disillusioned by it?
For me, at least, knowing too much about an author's inspiration is a bit like watching Peter Jackson's special features on the DVD of The Fellowship of the Ring--Legolas and Arwen, in particular, looked and sounded enough like how I'd imagined them all my life that it was an unpleasant surprise to hear how the actors sounded without lines to read. Sometimes it's better not to know, because then you can continue to imagine.
But some of us just can't resist reading everything available by our favorite authors. And so I got a copy of The Sagan Diary for my birthday, and I read it. I expected it to be what a previous reviewer calls it, a "contrapuntal work" to the three novels in the Old Man's War series (Old Man's War, The Ghost Brigades, The Lost Colony). But there's nothing in it that I hadn't already inferred from reading those books. There's a section in the chapter entitled "Speaking" about Jane's relationship to language that doesn't go any farther towards explaining the point of view of one who was born able to communicate mind-to-mind than the novel that introduced the idea did. Why I thought the diary might be able to, I don't know--it's the age-old science fiction conundrum of how can you imagine an alien with no mouth? Or no eyes, etc. It's almost impossible not to have some substitute for eating or seeing, because even human language--most of our metaphors--is so wrapped around those methods of sensory experience.
Also I was disillusioned to find a sketch of the character Jane Sagan looking exactly like the photos of Scalzi's wife that he posts on his website from time to time. Too much information! I had my own picture of Jane, and she was smarter, stronger, faster, braver--and more mysterious--than any human woman in existence could ever be. Plus, I don't like the implication that the hero is based on the author, because the author has already succeeded in making him larger than life. Why poke a tiny hole in the Macy's parade balloon of "The Heroic John Perry" just to see if he'll start zooming around on his strings and making that amusing brrrrff noise?
I was entertained by the preface, in which a military analyst complains about how useless the diary is for her purposes. Very eighteenth-century, preface-reading. I'm always quite agreeably entertained when a modern writer makes good use of the tradition.
I was puzzled by the lengthy appendix, a list of names, none of which I recognized from the Old Man's War novels, until I discovered that they are the names of people who pre-ordered the first edition of The Sagan Diary. Okay, harmless enough, but why preserve that appendix in the mass-market edition?
Have you ever procured a copy of something supplemental to the main works of an author of whom you are extraordinary fond and been a bit disillusioned by it?
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Daughter of Elysium
The first time I read Daughter of Elysium, when the author's children were young and mine were not yet born, I found it to be an optimistic story focusing on a young family at the eye of a fictional storm. The last time, however, as an observer of a few of the struggles faced by the author's children and the mother of my own teenagers, I found it a little less optimistic. The title itself is not as optimistic as you might imagine if you picked it up off a shelf without knowing anything about it. The phrase "daughter of Elysium" occurs in the text as a reference to a small robot creature who has joined a movement to fight for its rights as a sentient being. The women of Shora, the planet where "Elysium" is located and for whom all creatures are female, first recognize the robot as a "daughter of Elysium." So there's trouble in paradise.
But the troubles are subtle, and build slowly. The pace of the novel is broken up by shifts in perspective from one race to the next, not all of them recognized as "sentient" by the folks who think they make the rules in this universe. The Shorans, decendants of the heroines in Slonczewski's earlier novel A Door Into Ocean, debate the ethics of the rules that govern their lives and the lives of those who share their planet, the "immortal" Elysians. Various people who are visiting the planet and trying to understand it read the Shoran philosophy of how life can best be lived, presented within the narrative and entitled "The Web." One of the main characters, Raincloud, has been brought to Elysium because of her linguistic abilities, and her diplomatic translations help to prevent war in this universe.
The science, as always in Slonczewski's SF novels, is biology, and Windcloud's mate and father of her children, Blackbear, is a doctor who has come to Elysium to do research on fertility and longetivity. One of the things he discovers is that "immortal" doesn't mean the Elysians can actually live forever, but that their lifespan is continually being extended by the discoveries and improvements they make, sometimes at the expense of other beings that are arguably sentient.
This novel, originally published in 1993, will be newly available the first week of September 2009. If you're a SF fan and you haven't read it yet, you'll be fascinated by the biology of "nanoplast" and the treatment of standard topics like sentient robots. Even if you have read it, as I just discovered, it's a novel that rewards rereading, partly because the topics it addresses are not outdated enough. We haven't yet solved all the kinds of problems in our own world that cause trouble for the characters in this fictional "Elysium."
But the troubles are subtle, and build slowly. The pace of the novel is broken up by shifts in perspective from one race to the next, not all of them recognized as "sentient" by the folks who think they make the rules in this universe. The Shorans, decendants of the heroines in Slonczewski's earlier novel A Door Into Ocean, debate the ethics of the rules that govern their lives and the lives of those who share their planet, the "immortal" Elysians. Various people who are visiting the planet and trying to understand it read the Shoran philosophy of how life can best be lived, presented within the narrative and entitled "The Web." One of the main characters, Raincloud, has been brought to Elysium because of her linguistic abilities, and her diplomatic translations help to prevent war in this universe.
The science, as always in Slonczewski's SF novels, is biology, and Windcloud's mate and father of her children, Blackbear, is a doctor who has come to Elysium to do research on fertility and longetivity. One of the things he discovers is that "immortal" doesn't mean the Elysians can actually live forever, but that their lifespan is continually being extended by the discoveries and improvements they make, sometimes at the expense of other beings that are arguably sentient.
This novel, originally published in 1993, will be newly available the first week of September 2009. If you're a SF fan and you haven't read it yet, you'll be fascinated by the biology of "nanoplast" and the treatment of standard topics like sentient robots. Even if you have read it, as I just discovered, it's a novel that rewards rereading, partly because the topics it addresses are not outdated enough. We haven't yet solved all the kinds of problems in our own world that cause trouble for the characters in this fictional "Elysium."
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Favorite Books
When I go to a party and someone asks what I "do" and I tell them some variation on "I have a PhD in English and try not to waste it entirely," there are two categories of response. One is "oh, I'll have to watch my grammar." I laugh politely at that one. The other is "oh, I never have time to read." I like that one a little better because it gives me a way to say that we make time for what we can't do without.
My favorite response to the what do you "do" answer came when I was still in graduate school. The man who eventually married our friend Miriam said to me "what are you studying in grad school?" I said "English." There was a pause. "Haven't you learned it yet?" he said.
So what do you do when someone asks what your "favorite" book is??? I have various strategies for answering such a question, including picking six off the top of my head, as I did for my blogger profile: Animal Dreams, Love In the Ruins, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, The Lord of the Rings, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Princess Bride.
A strategy that makes more sense is to pick two or three favorites from a specific genre--favorite science fiction books: Stranger in a Strange Land, The Door Into Ocean, Ender's Game.
My favorite way to answer this question now is a strategy I borrowed from my friend Lemming's Christmas letter. She and her husband used to recommend their favorite book of the year. This narrows down the selections to a manageable level, plus you can buy the favorite book of the year for everyone on your list. My favorite book of this past year is Boomsday.
Of course, this strategy necessarily privileges contemporary literature. How can we include favorites from the past? Usually I don't try. There's no need to repeat what thousands of high school English teachers have said before me: To Kill a Mockingbird is a great book. One of the purposes of telling other people what your favorite books are is to get them to read those books.
With that purpose in mind, tell me what your favorite books are. I'm the person you know who is most likely to read them.
My favorite response to the what do you "do" answer came when I was still in graduate school. The man who eventually married our friend Miriam said to me "what are you studying in grad school?" I said "English." There was a pause. "Haven't you learned it yet?" he said.
So what do you do when someone asks what your "favorite" book is??? I have various strategies for answering such a question, including picking six off the top of my head, as I did for my blogger profile: Animal Dreams, Love In the Ruins, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, The Lord of the Rings, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Princess Bride.
A strategy that makes more sense is to pick two or three favorites from a specific genre--favorite science fiction books: Stranger in a Strange Land, The Door Into Ocean, Ender's Game.
My favorite way to answer this question now is a strategy I borrowed from my friend Lemming's Christmas letter. She and her husband used to recommend their favorite book of the year. This narrows down the selections to a manageable level, plus you can buy the favorite book of the year for everyone on your list. My favorite book of this past year is Boomsday.
Of course, this strategy necessarily privileges contemporary literature. How can we include favorites from the past? Usually I don't try. There's no need to repeat what thousands of high school English teachers have said before me: To Kill a Mockingbird is a great book. One of the purposes of telling other people what your favorite books are is to get them to read those books.
With that purpose in mind, tell me what your favorite books are. I'm the person you know who is most likely to read them.
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