Showing posts with label Prometheus Nominee Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prometheus Nominee Reviews. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

2019 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Dublin 2019: An Irish Worldcon in Dublin, Ireland..

Comments: One of the notable things about the 2019 Prometheus Nominees is the complete lack of any Sad Puppies on the list. To be fair, the Pups never really got any significant traction with the Prometheus Awards - the only significant member of the Pups who has been nominated recently was Sarah Hoyt. This seems odd, since given the political proclivities of the Sad Pups, this award seems like it would be the natural home for them. In more than a few cases Pups have engaged in some rather obvious pandering in their works in an effort to get nominations for this award, but they never made a concerted effort to get their selections on the ballot in the same way they did for the Hugo Awards. There is probably an entire dissertation one could write about why the Pups almost completely ignored the Prometheus Award and instead battered their heads against the Hugo Awards, but since the Pups have mostly faded into well-deserved cultural irrelevance, there just doesn't seem to be much point in writing about it further now.

The larger issue with the Prometheus Awards is the repetitive nature of the Hall of Fame nominees. Of the five nominees, five of them had been nominated previously for the Hall of Fame. Harrison Bergeron has been nominated once before, while Conquest by Default has previously been nominated twice. Sam Hall has been nominated three times, while As Easy as A.B.C. has been nominated a total of thirteen times. The only Hall of Fame nominee that has not been previously nominated is Schrödinger's Cat: The Universe Next Door. Having nominees show up year after year until they get inducted is not a new phenomenon for the Prometheus Awards, and that seems to me to be something of a problem. If the range of potential nominees is so limited that one needs to renominate the same things over and over again until they win, the Hall of Fame seems less than impressive.

Best Novel

Winner:
Causes of Separation by Travis Corcoran

Finalists:
The Fractal Man by J. Neil Schulman
Kingdom of the Wicked by Helen Dale
The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells
State Tectonics by Malka Older

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut

Finalists:
Conquest by Default by Vernor Vinge
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Sam Hall by Poul Anderson
Schrödinger's Cat: The Universe Next Door by Robert Anton Wilson

Other Works Considered for the Hall of Fame

Demon and Freedom by Daniel Suarez (considered as a combined nomination)
Even the Queen by Connie Willis
ILU-486 by Amanda Ching
The Man Who Sold the Stars by Gregory Benford
A Mirror for Observers by Edgar Pangborn
The Mirror Maze by James P. Hogan
The Once and Future King and The Book of Merlyn by T.H. White (considered as a combined nomination)
That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis
A Time of Changes by Robert Silverberg

Previous year's nominees: 2018
Subsequent year's nominees: 2020

Book Award Reviews     Home

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

2018 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Worldcon 76 in San Jose, California.

Comments: The Prometheus Award continues its track record of not really being a "libertarian" award, or at least much of one. The ideologies represented by the list of nominees for the award are all over the place, ranging from Scottish socialism, to reactionary conservatism, to a kind of, sort of libertarianism. This is not a new development for the Prometheus Award - for the last several years I have been trying to figure out what the point of the award is as the libertarian element seems to have faded to an faint background note at best. The odd thing is that writers on the conservative (many of who style themselves as libertarians to a certain extent) have spent the last several years complaining that non-explicitly ideologically oriented genre fiction awards such as the Hugo Award and the Nebula Award have been dominated by factions pushing an ideological agenda, this award, which is supposed to have an explicit ideological bent, has seen its ideological bent leach away into nothingness.

Best Novel

Winner:
The Powers of the Earth by Travis J.I. Corcoran

Finalists:
Artemis by Andy Weir
The Corporation Wars: Emergence by Ken MacLeod
Darkship Revenge by Sarah A. Hoyt
Drug Lord: High Ground by Doug Casey and John Hunt
Torchship, Torchship Pilot, and Torchship Captain by Karl K. Gallagher

Hall of Fame

Winner:
With Folded Hands . . . by Jack Williamson

Finalists:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Conquest by Default by Vernor Vinge
The Island Worlds by Eric Kotani and John Maddox Roberts
Starfog by Poul Anderson

Previous year's nominees: 2017
Subsequent year's nominees: 2019

Book Award Reviews     Home

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

2017 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Worldcon 75 in Helsinki, Finland.

Comments: Once again, the Prometheus Award seems to be the Scottish Socialist Award, with two finalists by Ken MacLeod. I've mentioned this before, but this seems like yet another example of the definition of "science fiction books that examine the meaning of freedom" being interpreted so incredibly broadly that there is essentially no real ideological meaning behind the Prometheus Award. As far as I can tell, there is no way to identify any science fiction book as being one that would not qualify for the Prometheus Award, which begs the question: What purpose does the Prometheus Award serve? Looking through the books that are nominated, there doesn't seem to be any identifiable ideological bent behind the award any more, which makes it more or less just another general science fiction award that happens to be voted upon by the members of and handed out by the Libertarian Futurist Society. There's nothing wrong with being a general science fiction award, but unless the Prometheus Award wants to be a kind of cut-rate Hugo Award with an even more specialized electorate, there doesn't seem to be much that really distinguishes the award from most of the other general science fiction awards right now.

Best Novel

Winner:
The Core of the Sun by Johanna Sinisalo (translated by Lola Rogers)

Finalists:
The Corporation Wars: Dissidence by Ken MacLeod
The Corporation Wars: Insurgence by Ken MacLeod
The Mandibles: A Family, 2029-2047 by Lionel Shriver
Blade of p’Na by L. Neil Smith

Other Nominees:
Angeleyes by Michael Z. Williamson
Arkwright by Allen M. Steele
Dark Age by Felix Hartmann
Kill Process by William Hertling
Morning Star by Pierce Brown
Necessity by Jo Walton
On to the Asteroid by Travis S. Taylor and Les Johnson
Speculator by Doug Casey and John Hunt
Through Fire by Sarah Hoyt
Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer
Written in Fire by Marcus Sakey

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Coventry by Robert A. Heinlein

Finalists:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Conquest by Default by Vernor Vinge
Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut
Starfog by Poul Anderson
With Folded Hands . . . by by Jack Williamson

Other Nominees:
The End of the Line by James H. Schmitz
The Exit Door Leads In by Philip K. Dick
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Island Worlds by Eric Kotani and John Maddox Roberts
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Manna by Lee Correy
The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula Le Guin (reviewed in The Hugo Winners: Volume 3, Book 2)
A Time of Changes by Robert Silverberg

Previous year's nominees: 2016
Subsequent year's nominees: 2018

Book Award Reviews     Home

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Review - Seveneves by Neal Stephenson


Short review: The moon blows up on the first page and humanity unites to try to save a handful of people on a space station. Then things get bogged down in discussions about the physics of chains.

Haiku
First, the global ark
Next, comes the hard rain of death
Then, just seven Eves

Full review: Seveneves is a bloated and turgid mess of a book that is simultaneously both annoyingly brief and way too long. At just over 850 pages long, this book really should have either been trimmed down to half that length, or Stephenson should have expanded it into a two or possibly three book series. As it is, the story is sprawling and unfocused, skimming over large volumes of the story in an almost perfunctory manner, while also getting sidetracked into obsessive detail over minor technical explanations.

The story starts off with a bang, almost literally, as the Earth's moon is destroyed by an unknown cause in the opening sentence. The story also starts off by showing that the humans in Stephenson's reality bear almost no resemblance to actual humans, as they take in this news with an almost dispassionate curiosity, seemingly only worried about the technical aspects of the fact that the Moon had suddenly been somehow shattered into seven large fragments. The story also gets right on to dry technical digressions, as the text spends some time explaining how the attacker in a fencing match is referred to as the "agent" and the defender is referred to as the "patient", and as will become routine for the book, the digression adds almost nothing of value to the story. The first few opening chapters set the tone for the book, and it pretty much never recovers.

The overarching plot of the book is a grand sweeping space operatic tale told with mostly hard science sensibilities. The destruction of the moon starts a process that will result in a shower of meteorites sterilizing the Earth and making it uninhabitable for a period of five thousand years. Almost immediately, all the the nations of the world band together with the goal of making the International Space Station into an ark that will carry a handful of people so that the human race can survive. The "carrot" offered to all of the billions of humans who will be left behind to die on the Earth is that their genetic material will be carried in an archive so that at some point hundreds or thousands of years in the future, children who are technically their descendants can be born. The notion that people facing imminent death would be mollified by the idea that some time in the distant future a test tube baby made at least in part from their sperm or ova might exist. The problem is that's not how people's minds work - we don't love our children just because they share our genetics, but also because they are part of our lives and we can love and share experiences with them. A "relative" who you've never met is something that most people will never care about one way or the other, and yet the supposed intense interest in such persons is the "glue" that holds chaos in check for much of Seveneves.

Throughout the book, the plot lurches forward, sometimes jumping haphazardly from one big event to another, and at other times getting bogged down into tiny details. One constant in the story is that no character ever acts like anything resembling a human being. Among the characters in the story, there are a few who are clearly modeled on real world individuals, and none is more readily apparent than Doctor Dubois Harris, who is clearly inspired by Doctor Neil deGrasse Tyson. Unfortunately, Dubois is such a creepy and amoral character that I had to keep reminding myself that he was only inspired by Tyson so as to not allow the invented character to color my perception of the real individual. Dubois, like Tyson, is a science popularizer, famous for being a television personality who educated the public on scientific subjects with his engaging personality, and for the first segment of the book he does that. But later he is the one who alone among all scientists of the world figures out the impending doom that the Moon's destruction has set in motion, and who then behaves like a man without actual human feeling.

Dubois strikes up a relationship with a woman early in the book, but all we ever really find out about her is that she is a school teacher, and that Dubois gets her pregnant. This pregnancy is important because when Julia Flaherty, the President of the United States who is clearly a stand-in for Hillary Clinton, asks Dubois to go to the ark, his one demand is that the embryo be extracted from his girlfriend and sent to the genetic archive. This seems moderately reasonable until one realizes that Dubois has already existing children, as well as other family, not to mention is girlfriend, and he doesn't really seem to spend much time worrying about their fates. He doesn't try to pull for his graduate student son to get a spot on the ark, or to arrange for his science teacher girlfriend to be given a berth, or anyone else. No, the only thing Dubois cares about is a frozen embryo that constitutes the seed of a person that he will never know. This sort of almost callous disregard for the living and breathing people around them while exalting collections of frozen cells pervades the development of the ark, and it quite simply makes almost every character involved in its creation seem like amoral monsters, the supposedly amiable Doctor Dubois included.

Setting aside the problems with characterization that pervade the book, the story is simply inconsistent - glossing over fairly important developments with almost perfunctory descriptions of them, and repetitively describing technical minutia ad nauseum. For example, the crafting of the international agreement in which all of the nations of the world agree to dedicate all of their energies to the ark takes place entirely off-stage, but the reader is regaled with an extended explanation of the details of chain physics not once, not twice, but three different times in the text. After a splinter group breaks away from the ark and strikes out on their own, their story over the next two years takes place off-camera, and when they remerge, the bitter split between warring factions among their ranks and food shortages that led to cannibalism is summarized after the fact in a recounting barely longer than the description I gave in this sentence. On the other hand, the story of a skeleton crew using miniature robots to steer a comet over the course of a handful of weeks into a rendezvous with the ark is told in exacting and often repetitive detail. At times, it seems that Stephenson simply forgot that he had already told the reader something - for example the multiple times he has a character remind the reader that Julia had used nuclear weapons to defend the ark. Having the text skim through some parts of the story would not be so annoying if it wasn't, at the same time, providing excruciating and duplicative detail at others. In many cases, it felt like there was a much more interesting story going on off-stage than there was contained within the book's pages.

The book can be broadly divided into three segments. In the first, the Moon is destroyed and the ark built. In the second, the "Hard Rain" starts and the ark community has to struggle to survive on their own, a struggle that winds up with the entirety of humanity reduced to eight women - one of whom is post-menopausal and cannot bear children. The remaining women become the "seven Eves" of the title, with each allowed to pick one genetic improvement for their progeny. And then the book skips over the entire process of rebuilding humanity from such tiny roots, and the ensuing development of an orbital culture, political infighting and division, and the reseeding of Earth with life to skip forward five thousand years for the final third of the book to a relatively mundane story about a group of these "new" human races coming into contact with two new groups of humans who never left the Earth - one that built an underground shelter to survive deep within the Earth, and the other that built an undersea ark and survived in the deep oceans. This leap across the millennia to an utterly banal portion of the story is where Seveneves completely breaks down.

One of the biggest problems with the book is contained in this five thousand year gap: After being fairly meticulous and mostly fairly accurate with the physics in the first two segments of the book, Stephenson throws everything away by resorting to absurd cartoon-level biology to explain the development of the multiple races of humanity that descended from the various "Eves". After the detailed physics of the first section, the ridiculous and nonsensical approach to biology that spans the gap between the second and third portion is incredibly jarring, and the resulting story simply disintegrates into goofy silliness. This hand-waving of essentially everything about genetics is, of course, accompanied by detailed explanations of how this future civilization uses nanobots, how individuals get down to and up from the surface of the Earth, and of course, more explanations about the physics of chains. The characters in the book also continue to not act like humans, having created a society that seems incredibly self-absorbed to the extent that any history that doesn't directly trace from the "seven Eves" is seen as an almost inconsequential "side story".

The truly frustrating thing about this book is that one can see the potentially quite good book (or books) hidden within it. Had Stephenson gone through the book to remove the redundant technical descriptions, the pointless digressions, and the simple repetition, the book could probably have been trimmed down a couple of hundred pages and been a lean and fast-paced volume that would hold the reader's attention throughout. Alternatively, each section could have been fleshed out, filling in the parts of the story given cursory attention, resulting in a two or possibly three volume saga. Instead, he chose an in between approach that simply does not work, forcing him to gloss over large chunks of the story with cursory summaries, but still padding the book with repetitious technical explanations. The net effect of this decision is a book that has flashes of brilliance, but is mostly clumsy, unfocused, and gets in its own way.

In the end, Seveneves is a very long and windy failure. It is an ambitious failure, but it never really transforms that ambition into a worthwhile story, and eventually simply collapses in on itself. This is a book that had a lot going for it: A global catastrophe leading to an epic tale of humanity struggling to survive against almost impossible odds with a scope on the grandest scale. Unfortunately, Stephenson takes all of these bold and brilliant elements and fritters them away on dry technical explanations, many of which appear multiple times, and characters that are, both often just barely two-dimensional and, for the most part, almost inhuman in their response to their surroundings. Ultimately, Seveneves feels like a missed opportunity in which what could have been a gloriously epic series ended up being a deeply flawed single volume.

2015 Prometheus Award Winner: Influx by Daniel Suarez
2017 Prometheus Award Winner: TBD

List of Prometheus Award Winners

Potential 2016 Hugo Nominees

2016 Campbell Award Nominees
2016 Hugo Award Finalists
2016 Locus Award Nominees
2016 Prometheus Award Nominees

Neal Stephenson     Book Reviews A-Z     Home

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

2016 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: MidAmeriCon II in Kansas City, Missouri.

Comments: Every so often, I wonder about the nature of the Prometheus Awards. Originally founded by L. Neil Smith to honor libertarian fiction by providing "encouragement to science fiction writers whose books examine the meaning of freedom", they seem to be so broadly defined that one is left wondering exactly what books would not be viable candidates for the Prometheus Award by reason of their subject matter. Dystopian fiction shows the consequences of a lack of freedom. Libertarian fiction shows the alleged utopia that would result from lots of freedom. Utopian fiction shows how people would behave if they were free from want. Ellison's stories show how men might fight the system. Heinlein's stories show how being armed is the way to ensure freedom. Tolkien's fiction shows how freedom comes from accepting divine grace. And so on and so forth. Almost any science fiction story can be couched in such a way that it is about "examining the meaning of freedom".

So the question one has to ask is what, exactly, does the Prometheus Award represent other than the reading tastes of the Libertarian Futurist Society? It is perfectly fine to have an award that does nothing more than represent the preferences of a particular groups: The Nebula Awards represent the preferences of the members of the Science Fiction Writers of America, and the Hugo Awards represent the preferences of the members of the World Science Fiction Society. But the Prometheus Award seems like it is, theoretically, supposed to be more specific than simply a "best science fiction of the year in the opinion of this group of people" kind of award. But the Prometheus Award is defined so broadly, and seems to have been interpreted even more broadly, and as a result, it doesn't really seem to be much more than that.

Best Novel

Winner:

Other Nominees:
Apex by Ramez Naam
A Borrowed Man by Gene Wolfe
Golden Son by Pierce Brown
The Just City by Jo Walton

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Courtship Rite by Donald M. Kingsbury

Other Nominees:
"As Easy as A.B.C." by Rudyard Kipling
The Island Worlds by Eric Kotani and John Maddox Roberts
Manna by Lee Correy
A Mirror for Observers by Edgar Pangborn


Special Award

Winner:
Alex + Ada (Volume 1, Volume 2, and Volume 3)

Other Nominees:
None

Go to previous year's nominees: 2015
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2017

Book Award Reviews     Home

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

2015 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Sasquan in Seattle, Washington.

Comments: The interesting thing about the 2015 list of nominees for the Prometheus Award is not who is on it, but rather who is not. Even though the set of authors that make up the core proponents of the "Sad Puppies" very clearly view themselves as being on the libertarian side of the spectrum (and in some cases they have inserted segments into their books that are clearly pandering to Prometheus Award voters), and yet, there is zero overlap between the set of books they promoted for the 2015 Hugo Award and the set of books that were chosen as finalists for the 2015 Prometheus Award. In short, despite sharing an ideological bent with many of the authors promoted by the Puppies, the Libertarian Futurist Society didn't see fit to even consider honoring any of the novels that were pushed for the Hugo ballot with a Prometheus Award nomination. If the Puppy slate is in fact about recognizing good books that the Hugo Awards have overlooked because they are supposedly ideologically biased, why is it that the works on the Puppy slates have been, with some rare exceptions, pretty much ignored by all of the other genre related awards? In fact, no one making decisions regarding other awards has seemed to think the stories promoted by any iteration of the Puppy slates have been worth nominating. It would be one thing if the works favored by the Puppies were getting nominated for many other awards while being snubbed solely by the Hugo voters. But they haven't. They have been ignored by all the major awards because they simply aren't good enough.

Note: Locus Online listed Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold as a Hall of Fame nominee for this year. However, Falling Free was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2014, which means this supposed nomination confuses me because I don't think the book can be inducted again. I have omitted the nomination for the book from this list.

Best Novel

Winner:
Influx by Daniel Suarez

Other Nominees:
A Better World by Marcus Sakey
Raising Steam by Terry Pratchett
The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu (translated by Ken Liu)

Hall of Fame

Winner:
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Courtship Rite by Donald Kingsbury
Sam Hall by Poul Anderson

Go to previous year's nominees: 2014
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2016

Book Award Reviews     Home

Monday, August 18, 2014

2014 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Loncon 3 in London, United Kingdom.

Comments: While the nominees for the Prometheus Award for Best Novel continue to be "Cory Doctorow and some books by people you're unlikely to have ever heard of or read unless you are in the insular libertarian club", the Hall of Fame category is once again where the head-scratching selection is located. By handing a Hall of Fame induction to Falling Free, the Libertarian Futurist Society raised a number of questions. It isn't that Falling Free isn't a good novel - it undeniably is - but it wasn't able to garner a nod for Best Novel when it was published back in the 1980s, which makes one wonder why it deserves to be in the Hall of Fame now. This isn't quite as odd as John C. Wright's novel The Golden Age getting a nomination for the Hall of Fame despite being completely passed over for even a Best Novel nomination when it was first published, but it does cause one to doubt the validity of whatever metrics the nominators and judges for the Prometheus Award are using.

Best Novel

Winner:
(tie) Homeland by Cory Doctorow
(tie) Nexus by Ramez Naam

Other Nominees:
Brilliance by Marcus Sakey
Crux by Ramez Naam
A Few Good Men by Sarah A. Hoyt

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Courtship Rite by Donald M. Kingsbury
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison
Sam Hall by Poul Anderson

Special Award

Winner:
Leslie Fish for the combination of 2013 novella Tower of Horses with filk song The Horsetaker's Daughter

Other Nominees:
None

Lifetime Achievement

Winner:
Vernor Vinge

Other Nominees:
None

Go to previous year's nominees: 2013
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2015

Book Award Reviews     Home

Friday, August 30, 2013

2013 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: LoneStarCon 3 in San Antonio, Texas.

Comments: The slate of nominees for the 2013 Prometheus Award for Best Novel highlights what seems to be the primary problem faced by these awards - the list basically consists of "A book by Cory Doctorow and a bunch of novels by people you might not have heard of and probably haven't read if you aren't part of the very insular club of libertarian science fiction fans". This might not seem to be a problem if you are a member of this club and just want to pat other members on the back for preaching to the choir. But if you want your award to actually make a difference in promoting the "message fiction" that libertarian science fiction clearly is, then this insularity is definitely counterproductive.

Best Novel

Winner:
Pirate Cinema by Cory Doctorow

Other Nominees:
Arctic Rising by Tobias S. Buckell
Darkship Renegades by Sarah A. Hoyt
Kill Decision by Daniel Suarez
The Unincorporated Future by Dani Kollin and Eytan Kollin

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Courtship Rite by Donald M. Kingsbury
Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison
Sam Hall by Poul Anderson

Go to previous year's nominees: 2012
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2014

Book Award Reviews     Home

Monday, September 3, 2012

2012 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Chicon 7 in Chicago, Illinois.

Comments: The 2012 slate of nominees for the Prometheus Award Hall of Fame was almost exactly the same as the slate for the 2011 Hall of Fame, the only change being that George Orwell's Animal Farm, the 2011 inductee, was removed from the ballot. This seems to be something of a pattern for the Prometheus Awards - come up with a slate of Hall of Fame nominees, put them on the ballot year after year until most of them have gained entry, then when the field has been depleted, cast about looking for more works to put on the ballot for the next several years. The harsh reality is that it seems there is a fair amount of good fiction with mild libertarian themes, and a fair amount of weak fiction with a strong libertarian message, but very little good fiction with a strong libertarian message, and the repetitiveness of the Hall of Fame nominations is an indicator of this fact.

Best Novel

Winner:
(tie) The Freedom Maze by Delia Sherman
(tie) Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Other Nominees:
The Children of the Sky by Vernor Vinge
In the Shadow of Ares by Thomas L. James and Carl C. Carlsson
The Restoration Game by Ken MacLeod
Snuff by Terry Pratchett

Hall of Fame

Winner:
The Machine Stops by E.M. Forster

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison

Go to previous year's nominees: 2011
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2013

Book Award Reviews     Home

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Review - That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis


Short review: All learning since the middle-ages is evil and the scientists are trying to destroy humanity. The good guys sit around and wait for magic to save them. Surprisingly, this works.

Haiku
Jane and Mark Studdock
Separated at the start
By N.I.C.E.

Full review: That Hideous Strength is the third and final book in C.S. Lewis’ “Space Trilogy” and is also the best book in the series. This assessment is, however, damning with faint praise. As with the rest of the series, the book is mostly weak religious polemics coupled with a generous amount of misogyny. What places this book above the previous two installments in the series is that there is actually something of a story contained in its pages, and although the story is somewhat weak, it is still better than either the rambling travelogue of Out of the Silent Planet or the unadulterated tedium of Perelandra. As has become the pattern for Lewis thus far, his apologia in favor of his Christian faith are weakened by his apparent lack of understanding of the arguments of his ideological adversaries and his own inability to formulate a coherent reasoned argument on behalf of his chosen creed.

The central characters of the book are Mark and Jane Studdock, a young married couple living in the fictitious university town of Edgestow where Mark is a sociologist and a fellow at the fictitious college of Bracton. One oddity about the book is that despite the fact that Lewis attempts to make the Studdock's marriage a central element of the story, the reader never gets to see the Studdock's interact with one another. They open the book going their separate ways, and soon Mark is whisked away by Lord Feverstone, who happens to also be Devine from Out of the Silent Planet, to the headquarters of the National Institute of Coordinated Experiments, or N.I.C.E., at Belbury which is the villainous organization that the heroes of the book have to save the world from. The N.I.C.E. is a confusing place for Mark, as the deputy director says he is to be hired, but the head of the sociology section has no knowledge of Mark's appointment and has no need for another sociologist. Mark bounces about the confusing place trying to figure out if he has in fact been hired and if so for what position and at what salary but is given a run-around every time he tries to figure out his status, and is eventually sternly warned that he is annoying important people at N.I.C.E. It seems that this sort of confusion about organizational structure is intended as a commentary on the disordered nature of modern thinking, but all it really does is make the N.I.C.E. seem like a fairly ineffectual villain. If the N.I.C.E. is this disorganized one has to wonder how they would be able to execute their purportedly nefarious plans.

Jane, on the other hand, putters around Edgestow for a while before going to St. Anne's and joining up with the somewhat ineffective assembly that the "Director", in the form of a wounded Elwin Ransom, has gathered around himself to oppose this supposedly existential threat to humanity. Much of the machinations of the villains rely upon attempting to manipulate Mark in order to secure Jane's services as a prophetic dreamer, the various bits of advice that Ransom, a confirmed bachelor, gives to Jane on how to repair her marriage, and Mark coming to realize that he really does love his wife, but by giving so very little attention to developing the relationship between the two characters, the reader ends up not caring very much whether they do actually reconcile or not. This problem does not seem to be confined to the Studdock's. Although there are only a handful of married couples in the book, they are either separated throughout the entire story or interact with one another only very briefly.

Although one might be able to make the argument that Lewis keeps Mark and Jane apart through the narrative in order to build up tension that is to be resolved by their dramatic reunion, the fact that none of the married couples seem to have a shared relationship that is presented with any kind of depth in the story makes one think that perhaps Lewis's experiences with women were so lacking that he simply didn't know how to write scenes involving a healthy relationship. Not only that, when the time comes for the emotional payoff at the end, Lewis has it take place entirely off stage, meaning that two people with a poorly developed relationship have a dramatic reunion out of sight, leaving the reader to simply not care about what is clearly, in Lewis' mind, one of the critical developments of his book. As I have noted elsewhere, it seems that the misogynistic sentiments that seem to ripple throughout Lewis' books were driven not by an active dislike for women, but instead by Lewis' limited contact with them, and a resulting lack of familiarity with actual women and lack of understanding of how men and women actually interact. All of the women who appear in the book are portrayed as petulant children, dutiful wives, matronly mothers, or awful harridans. Apparently, there are no other choices for women.

Women, it seems, were strange beasts in Lewis’ mind, and while he might have conceded that they were human, it seems that he was inclined to regard them as never being fully adult. Nowhere is this more apparent in That Hideous Strength than in the character of Jane Studdock, who Lewis treats as some odd combination of a wayward child and a recalcitrant brood mare. When the story opens we are told that Jane is pursuing graduate studies of her own, presumably intent on following her husband into academia. But almost immediately the narrative (and Jane herself) dismisses her aspirations as being both dissatisfying and childish. Jane wanders through the opening chapters more or less bewildered and confused until she encounters Ransom, whereupon she is informed that her mental anguish would be ameliorated if she simply submitted herself to the authority of her husband. In other words, a fully grown woman capable enough to graduate from college and pursue an advanced degree is advised by an unmarried male character in a book written by an unmarried man that her best course of action is to be obedient to her husband. To reinforce this point, when Jane states that she would like to take the Director’s side and join his motley crew at St. Anne’s Ransom instructs her that he is not inclined to accept her unless she first gets permission from her husband even though Mark has already gone to Belbury and more or less joined the enemy. In effect, all of the other characters treat Jane as more or less an extension of Mark – even the forces of evil that represent the modernity that Jane has supposedly been misled by only recruit her husband Mark because they presume that if he is on their side then Jane will surely follow.

And Jane is critically important to both sides of the conflict in the book because she has prophetic dreams, the disturbing nature of which are the source of her disquietude at the start of the book. Apparently it would be a disastrous turn of events for N.I.C.E. to get hold of Jane and use her dream visions to their advantage. Since Jane’s dreams seem mostly to convey information that N.I.C.E. already knows, this seems to be a dubious proposition, but even so, it makes Ransom’s refusal to allow Jane to join with St. Anne’s until after she is captured and tortured by the N.I.C.E. security chief “Fairy” Hardcastle (revealing Hardcastle's sadistic and apparently Sapphic tendencies) seem shortsighted and foolish. Eventually Jane does join with Ransom’s merry little band despite not obtaining Mark’s permission first and proceeds have incredibly cryptic dreams that tell Ransom that the N.I.C.E. is doing exactly what he thought they were doing: Buying property from Bracton College so they can dig up an ancient grove of trees and try to locate the buried but not dead body of Merlin.

But this reveals the weakest element of the book, which is the idiotic resolution to the plot. All of the misogynistic and anti-reason messages contained in the story would possibly be excusable if Lewis had provided a moderately interesting story. But the ostensible heroes are more or less superfluous to the plot: Ransom has gathered about him a collection of faithful followers, but they don't actually do anything at all except wait around until Merlin shows up. Ransom does send a cadre of his followers out to try to find Merlin, but they prove to be wholly incapable of completing this task and Merlin arrives on Ransom's doorstep on his own and identifies the philologist as the "Pendragon", heir to the authority of King Arthur and rightful ruler of Logres, which is more or less "magical" Britain. Once Merlin has submitted himself to Ransom's authority, the two of them sit around waiting until the eldils of the heavens arrive to endow Merlin with their powers and send him out to do battle with the supposedly terrible forces of the N.I.C.E. Once Merlin has gone off to fulfill his destiny, the women of Ransom's merry band play dress up (because women always want to play dress up) and then everyone has a nice dinner. In short, despite everyone being told that they have a critical role to play in saving the world, what really happens is that Lewis pulls out a literal deus ex machina ending by having a magic man from the past show up and destroy the evildoers with the powers of angels. In the end, N.I.C.E. isn't defeated by reason, or courage, or any kind of human response, but instead because God decided to arrange things so he could smite them into oblivion. Instead of a call to action or an argument for faith, Lewis basically says that one should sit around doing not much of anything until divine intervention saves the day.

But what makes the story even weaker is that the N.I.C.E. doesn't seem to be all that effective or evil of a villain. Despite repeated admonishments about the horrible nature of the N.I.C.E., the only large scale "evils" that the organization seems to actually do are manipulating the news, buying and then tearing down a copse of trees, and arranging for a riot to break out in Edgestow. On a smaller scale, the N.I.C.E. more nefariously murders a scientist who wants to leave the organization and imprisons Mark. Even though there are clearly nasty acts, they aren't any more villainous than those performed by a run of the mill organized crime gang. As a result, it is difficult to see the N.I.C.E. as some sort of looming threat to humanity itself. There are a myriad of hints and dire warnings that the N.I.C.E. is up to far worse activities, but even the one thing that is supposedly truly evil – reanimating the head of their dead leader Alsacan – seems fairly trivial, especially when it is revealed that Alsacan as not actually been reanimated. This act seems to be little more than misusing a cadaver, and certainly not as horrific as Mark makes it out to be when he is confronted by the sight. Later, Lewis reveals that the real evil in the action results from the fact that the animating force is actually "macrobes" or evil eldil. But this removes the evil from being the work of men to being the result of supernatural influence. Despite Lewis' repeated railings against any field of academic study of more recent vintage than the 13th century, by making all of it the influence of otherworldly macrobes, Lewis effectively removes human agency from the equation. The plot of That Hideous Strength ends up being benign supernatural forces lining up to destroy malicious supernatural forces with the various human characters taking the part of pawns or bystanders. It is clear that Lewis desperately wants to convince the reader that the N.I.C.E. is a looming threat that will transform England into a dystopian nightmare, but the Keystone Kops nature of the organization coupled with the relatively bland nature of the evil deeds attributed to them makes this attempted characterization simply fall flat.

As the book winds its way through its poorly thought out plot to its unsatisfying conclusion, Lewis has to throw in a number of jabs at his ideological opponents and an additional helping of misogyny to go with them. Lewis tries to include criticism of various non-Christian philosophical positions, but ends up revealing that he simply doesn't understand the arguments advanced by their proponents. For example, the character of Frost adheres to the nondualistic view of the mind, an argument that holds that the human mind is entirely a product of the brain. But Lewis mutates this into a denial of the existence of the mind and writes frost as merely wandering about as his body does things. In the book, Frost is well-aware that he has a mind, but he has his mind merely observe as his body "instinctively" wanders about doing things on its own. But this sort of characterization of the philosophical position doesn't even rise to the level of being a straw-man and just makes Lewis look ill-informed and makes his counterarguments look ridiculous. Alongside this sort of ham-fisted attempts to make ideological points, Lewis adds some ham-fisted misogyny, most notably in the form of N.I.C.E. security chief "Fairy" Hardcastle who is portrayed as a heavyset, crude, and overtly sexual (and possibly bisexual) woman, and therefore she is sadistic and evil. The clear message sent by Lewis' characterization of women in the book is that unless a woman fits into the category of subservient baby-maker, she has gone astray and must be herded back into the fold or condemned to damnation.

Even the emotional payoff at the end of the story is poorly executed. When Mark does get free of the clutches of the N.I.C.E. having learned his lesson about foolish ambition and rekindled his love for his spouse, one would expect him to head straight for Jane. Instead he stops off at an inn near Jane and has himself a nice breakfast, spends the day reading the entirety of Curdie, and then tucks in for a nap. For a man who has been separated from his wife for some weeks and who is desperate to reconnect with her, this seems like an odd course of action. At the other end of the equation, Jane is instructed by Ransom to go to her husband and in the future "have babies instead of dreams". The overt message here is for Jane to cease having prophetic dreams, but the underlying message appears to be that Jane should give up her ambitions of academic accomplishment and take up the proper role of a woman as a dutiful wife and brood mare. At the very end, it is Jane who has to do the work and walk into the inn room where her husband has gone to sleep, at which point the book ends just before the emotional scene in which the couple are reunited. And at this point, both this book and the entire Space Trilogy mercifully come to an end. Unless one is interested in a deus ex machina plot laden with terribly weak theological arguments, spiced up with a screed against learning and reason, and topped off with a generous coating of misogyny, then That Hideous Strength is a book to be avoided.

Previous book in the series: Perelandra

1946 Hugo Award Nominees
2003 Prometheus Award Nominees
2008 Prometheus Award Nominees

C.S. Lewis     Book Reviews A-Z     Home

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Review - Perelandra by C.S. Lewis


Short review: Ransom travels via Angel express to Venus in order to save a new Eden from the poor judgment of a silly woman.

Haiku
If you can't argue
And convince them with reason
Kill your enemy

Full review: Although Perelandra is usually classified as science-fiction, it is more or less the exact opposite, extolling the virtues of anti-science and anti-reason, with the only "science fictional" element being that almost all of the action takes place on Venus. The second book in C.S. Lewis' "Space Trilogy", and the weakest of the three books, Perelandra is a slow as molasses story packed with tediously unconvincing theological debates and a healthy dose of patriarchal misogyny. The book is somewhat noteworthy in that it is the first in which Lewis takes the stance that if you cannot overcome your ideological opponents with the superiority of your arguments, then it is okay to resort to violence in the name of your faith.

One of the first things to note about this book is that there is almost no story within it. Dr. Elwin Ransom, having returned from Mars in Out of the Silent Planet is called upon to journey to Venus, also known as "Perelandra" on a mission ordained by the agents of heaven. To get to Venus, Ransom gets into a divinely provided coffin and is flown by eldils to the surface and more or less unceremoniously dropped off in the Venusian ocean. The fact that for Ransom's interplanetary journey Lewis discards with even the pretense of having a spaceship powered by something other than outright magic should tip off an astute reader that he has abandoned the pretense that he's writing science fiction rather than religiously inspired fantasy.

Once on Venus, Ransom finds some floating islands and discovers that everything on the planet is "more", as in the colors are brighter, the water is more refreshing, the food is tastier, and generally everything is simply better than on Earth. Venus, it seems, has only recently been endowed with life and as yet it is still in a condition identical to that attributed to the Garden of Eden in Genesis. Before too long Ransom comes across a green-skinned woman who expresses disappointment in finding him. This is because she is the "Mother" and she is searching for the "King", who she apparently had become separated from some time before. And as soon as the Mother shows up the hubris and misogyny begins to flow thick and fast.

The hubris stems from Lewis' extreme humanocentrism: in answer to the question of why the "Mother" looks just like a human with green skin, we are told that because God had incarnated himself as a human all future intelligent beings will look like humans. I suppose it was just the misfortune of the hrossa, pfifltriggi, and sori to be created before humans and thus before God allegedly incarnated himself as a man that caused them to miss out on being shaped just like us. One might note that in Genesis it is asserted that humans were supposedly made in the image of God to begin with, so apparently when he incarnated himself as a human God was just assuming a physical manifestation of his normal form, which makes one wonder why the inhabitants of Malacandra were unlucky enough to be made using such different body architecture. Despite having made a somewhat exotic landscape in the previous book, and populating it with some moderately exotic denizens, Lewis seems to retreat from the exotic in Perelandra (and even further in That Hideous Strength). Oddly, it seems that Lewis became less certain of himself as an author as the series progressed.

And this brings up a side point about Lewis in general as an author and an apologist: he seems to have had only a very limited ability to come up with original ideas. In Out of the Silent Planet he posited a dying planet populated by three alien races. In Perelandra his vision is reduced to a world ocean populated by green humans. In That Hideous Strength he is reduced to university politics, parliamentary maneuvering, and manipulating newspaper articles topped off by recycling Arthurian, Greek, and Egyptian mythology. Even his celebrated Narnia series is populated by creatures drawn directly from Greek mythology to tell stories that are little more than thinly disguised tales from the Bible. Contrasting Lewis' fantasy with that of his friend Tolkien, who gave us a world populated by elves and dwarves that were markedly different than the elves and dwarves of previous stories, hobbit, orcs, and balrogs, reveals that even if one might not consider Tolkien's fantasy particularly imaginative by today's standards, he was leaps and bounds ahead of Lewis in this department.

But the limited story of Perelandra story is marred by more than humanocentrism and a lack of imagination, it is also chock full of misogynistic themes. The "Mother" that Ransom meets is searching for the "King", who was apparently lost on a different floating island than the one Ransom encounters her on. It soon becomes apparent that the entire story of Perelandra is a new version of the fall of humanity, with the lush and inviting floating islands rolling over the ocean of Venus replacing Eden and the prohibition against sleeping on the "fixed land" replacing the forbidden fruit. Once Weston arrives (or at least the animated body of Weston) to fill in for the deceptive serpent, the stage is set for Lewis to replay the temptation of Eve. Ransom quickly decides that he has been sent to Venus to serve as an intercessor in the tempting so as to foil Weston's efforts to convince the Mother to disobey the divine edict against sleeping on the fixed land. But in this drama one can see Lewis' low opinion of women: Weston immediately sets up the Mother as his target, but there is no suggestion that the King, who is also presumably alone and (without Ransom there) unguided, might choose poorly and decide to disobey the divine mandate. Only the Mother is viewed as a juicy target, and only the Mother is seen as requiring guidance from Ransom to make the correct choice.

At this point the book becomes almost comically tedious as Weston makes some fairly weak arguments in favor of disobedience and Ransom makes some even weaker arguments against it. In the course of the interminable debating it becomes apparent that Weston is not Weston any more, having been possessed by some malevolent spirit at some point prior to his arrival on Venus. And this raises a host of nagging questions about the story. Given the edict against the "bent" eldils of Earth traveling the heavens, how did this particular one manage to bridge the gap between worlds? If the "evil" forces use a spiritual tempter to try to deceive the Mother, why was Ransom sent to be her protector given that he cannot even seem to counter the ridiculously limp arguments that Lewis puts into Weston's mouth? Why is Weston not countered by the Oyarsa of Perelandra, who is supposedly acting as the guardian of life on the planet? If the Mother chooses to disobey, would this corrupt the Oyarsa of Perelandra? As a corollary question, which came first on Earth, the bent nature of the planet's Oyarsa or Eve's fall from grace? Given that Weston is apparently a spirit that has taken up residence in a human body and would thus be aware of the reality of the spiritual realm that Lewis assumes is real, why does Weston continue to converse as if the spiritual realm were not real, even when talking only to Ransom? And so on and so forth. Lewis simply didn't bother to think his fictional reality through, probably because he wasn't interested in writing a story but rather interested in getting to the polemics. But the very nature of the unanswered questions that stick out of the story would have undermined Lewis' polemics even if they were well-written, and as Lewis is unable to make a convincing case for either side in his fictional theological debate, the unanswered questions overwhelm them.

Having set Ransom up to be outmatched in debating skill by having him opposed by a tireless denizen of the nether realm, Lewis ends up endorsing violent murder as a means of winning an argument. Once he realizes that he cannot win a debate against demon-Weston, Ransom decides that the only way to save the Mother from making the wrong choice and turning to disobedience is to kill his adversary. But this just raises the question of what the purpose of the whole charade was. If an acceptable resolution to the temptation of the Mother is to take the decision out of her hands and kill off the tempter, why did the divine forces have Ransom involved at all? Why did they let demon-Weston get to Perelandra in the first place? One could have made an argument that the divine wants to allow for free will, which means allowing for the ability of the residents of Perelandra to choose incorrectly, but when Ransom takes it upon himself to kill demon-Weston, doesn't that deny the Mother the ability to make a choice on her own? Not only that, the story seems to suggest that should a believer find himself (and in Lewis' mind, one can be certain that it would always be himself) unable to match an ideological opponent with a superior argument, it is perfectly acceptable to resort to violent means to shut them up. Burning heretics and apostates at the stake was always Christianity's best maneuver for silencing the opposition, and Lewis seems to tacitly endorse such actions in this story.

So, having endorsed the idea that women just aren't competent to make choices for themselves and it is okay to beat your enemies to death, Lewis has Ransom aimlessly wander about for a while, along the way seemingly endorsing the position that paying homage to alternate deities could be acceptable. This seems an odd position for someone making Christian apologia to make, but it seems that in Lewis' theology that subordinate divine entities are acceptable and may even be worshiped. Eventually Ransom's meanderings bring him back to where the  Mother is, and now that Weston is dead, she has found the King. They are also attended by the Oyarsa of Perelandra who helpfully decides to show up after the crisis has passed. The Oyarsa also turns over dominion of the planet to the King. Having sat around doing not much of anything offstage for the whole book, the King is given rule over everything, including the Mother. And of course, having theoretically done the heavy lifting of making a "choice" to obey or disobey the divinely ordained rules, the Mother is perfectly content to turn over dominion over her future to the King. Because, as should be apparent from the story in Perelandra, women can't be trusted with the weighty responsibility of making decisions for themselves.

As with Out of the Silent Planet, there is not much story in Perelandra. In fact, there is considerably less story and a lot more badly reasoned polemics. The most damning element is not that the polemics are phrased in a way that belittles women, although they are, the most damning element is that Lewis seems to think that reason and argument is simply insufficient to make an effective case for his espoused beliefs. Perelandra is, quite simply, a treatise built upon eschewing reason in favor of brute force. The book could even be fairly construed as advocating anti-reason and continuing Lewis' campaign against all human learning and thought of more recent vintage than the 13th century. With next to no story, an anti-woman message, and a pile of theological debates that amount to nothing more than nonsense, Perelandra is a book that should definitely be avoided.

Previous book in the series: Out of the Silent Planet
Subsequent book in the series: That Hideous Strength

C.S. Lewis     Book Reviews A-Z     Home

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

2011 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Renovation in Reno, Nevada.

Comments: While the Prometheus Awards' Best Novel category seems to be working its way down to the bottom of the barrel in a search for nominees, the Hall of Fame has always had a reasonable number of decent (although often only mildly libertarian) books available to fill out its nominee ballot. But the interesting thing in 2011 is that of the five nominees for the Hall of Fame, four of them (including the winner) were works of novella length or shorter. All of these works are excellent pieces of fiction that have stood the test of time, but the fact that they dominate the Hall of Fame ballot suggests that restricting the current ballot to only the Best Novel category may be doing the Libertarian Futurist Society a disservice.

Best Novel

Winner:
Darkship Thieves by Sarah A. Hoyt

Other Nominees:
Ceres by L. Neil Smith
For the Win by Cory Doctorow
The Last Trumpet Project by Kevin MacArdry
Live Free or Die by John Ringo

Hall of Fame

Winner:
Animal Farm by George Orwell

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold
The Machine Stops by E.M. Forster
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison

Go to previous year's nominees: 2010
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2012

Book Award Reviews     Home

Monday, September 6, 2010

2010 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Aussiecon 4 in Melbourne, Australia.

Comments: In 2010, Harry Turtledove had a good year at the Prometheus Awards, garnering two nominations for Liberating Atlantis and The United States of Atlantis, both books from his Atlantis series. While these are both good books, the "libertarian" theme in them is fairly minor, while the changed geography is quite prominent, meaning that, once again, the Libertarian Futurist Society's nominations for the Prometheus Award seem to be a clear indication of just how thin the ranks of works of libertarian fiction really are.

Best Novel

Winner:
The Unincorporated Man by Dani Kollin and Eytan Kollin

Other Nominees:
Hidden Empire by Orson Scott Card
Liberating Atlantis by Harry Turtledove
Makers by Cory Doctorow
The United States of Atlantis by Harry Turtledove

Hall of Fame

Winner:
No Truce with Kings by Poul Anderson

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson
'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison

Go to previous year's nominees: 2009
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2011

Book Award Reviews     Home

Thursday, December 31, 2009

2009 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Unknown.

Comments: In 2009, the Libertarian Futurist Society demonstrated why so few people take the Prometheus Awards seriously by nominating John C. Wright's novel The Golden Age for induction into its Hall of Fame. There's nothing wrong with the novel, but it was published in 2002, which is so close in time to 2009 as to make the idea that the Hall of Fame is to honor "classic" works of libertarian fiction into a farce. Furthermore, in 2003, when it would have been eligible for the honor of Best Novel, The Golden Age wasn't even nominated, which makes one wonder what happened in the intervening years to make it worthy of Hall of Fame consideration. And it isn't like The Golden Age was an unknown work published by a small press in 2003: The book was prominent enough to be nominated for a Locus Award and the Campbell Award. An observer might note that John C. Wright very publicly converted to Roman Catholicism after having visions of "ghosts and spirits". A cynical observer might then note that the Libertarian Futurist Society seems to have been at least partially captured by religious conservatives and consider the possibility that the important change from 2003 and 2009 didn't have anything to do with the book, but rather with the author's religious affiliation. But that's silly - religious conservatives would never promote a work they snubbed earlier merely because they wanted to reward the author for converting and accepting their superstitious nonsense. Also, I have a bridge to sell you.

Best Novel

Winner:
Little Brother by Cory Doctorow

Other Nominees:
Half a Crown by Jo Walton
The January Dancer by Michael F. Flynn
Matter by Iain M. Banks
Opening Atlantis by Harry Turtledove
Saturn's Children by Charles Stross

Hall of Fame

Winner:
The Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King) by J.R.R. Tolkien

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
Courtship Rite by Donald M. Kingsbury
Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold
The Golden Age by John C. Wright
The Once and Future King by T.H. White

Go to previous year's nominees: 2008
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2010

Book Award Reviews     Home

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

2008 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Unknown.

Comments: The Prometheus Award Hall of Fame is, and always has been, something of an odd duck. The nominees are usually an almost random grab-bag ranging from classic works of fiction that tangentially touch upon themes dear to the hearts of libertarians, to recent works published by authors who are idolized by the members of the Libertarian Futurist Society, plus an assortment of works that don't fit into this axis, many of which seem to be present merely to give the award some intellectual heft. In 2008, the nominees were all classic works that feature passing mentions of libertarian-like sentiments, but which, in many cases, don't really seem to support the libertarian ideology. I can understand wanting to have authors like T.H. White and J.R.R. Tolkien on a libertarian award's list of honorees. It gives a certain amount of respectability to have works by such authors listed with the other works that have been honored. But the honor rings hollow when their works don't really espouse the libertarian ideology.

Best Novel

Winner:
(tie) The Gladiator by Harry Turtledove
(tie) Ha'Penny by Jo Walton

Other Nominees:
The Execution Channel by Ken MacLeod
Fleet of Worlds by Larry Niven and Edward M. Lerner
Ragamuffin by Tobias S. Buckell

Hall of Fame

Winner:
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Other Nominees:
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
The Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King) by J.R.R. Tolkien
The Once and Future King by T.H. White
That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis

Go to previous year's nominees: 2007
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2009

Book Award Reviews     Home

Monday, December 31, 2007

2007 Prometheus Award Nominees

Location: Unknown.

Comments: A year after the Alan Moore graphic novel V for Vendetta was inducted into the Hall of Fame, the film version of the story was given a special award by the Libertarian Futurist Society. As I have said before, this sort of ad hoc method of honoring current works that are not novels seems to me to be indicative of the limitations of the Prometheus Awards as they stand today. Quite simply, while the Hall of Fame permits the Prometheus Awards to honor works of fiction from the past no matter the medium they appeared in, the only way for the Prometheus awards to honor current works of fiction that are not novels is to give them a special award. The frequency with which special awards have been handed out in recent years appears to indicate that the Prometheus Awards may be due for an overhaul.

Best Novel

Winner:
Glasshouse by Charles Stross

Other Nominees:
Empire by Orson Scott Card
The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi
Harbingers by F. Paul Wilson
Rainbow's End by Vernor Vinge

Hall of Fame

Winner:
(tie) It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis
(tie) True Names by Vernor Vinge

Other Nominees:
Animal Farm by George Orwell
As Easy as A.B.C. by Rudyard Kipling
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
The Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King) by J.R.R. Tolkien

Special Award

Winner:
V for Vendetta directed by James McTeigue, screenplay by Larry and David Wachowski

Other Nominees:
None

Go to previous year's nominees: 2006
Go to subsequent year's nominees: 2008

Book Award Reviews     Home