Here’s a story which is different, both in origin and outlook. Cixin Liu is a Chinese SF writer - the most prolific and popular one, sources have it (I cannot judge, so might repeat misinformation here). He’s the author of a good number of books and stories, some of which have been/are being translated into English; he’s the recipient of several Galaxy SF Awards, and two Nebula Awards (Chinese version, not the US/UK one we’re used to!).
The Three-Body Problem is the first book in a trilogy - initially serialised in the magazine Science Fiction World in 2006, then published in novel form in 2008, and having, apparently, sold 400.000 copies. Which, in a market of 1.35 Billion People (US usage of the word, evidently), maybe is not Harry Potter level. Still, I don't think any of the writers in my circle of acquaintances would turn that figure down I reckon...
Anyway, it’s the most successful SF novel in China, ever, and has led to a (re)surgence of SF, and more generic acceptance of the form beyond its previous genre ghetto. The book is now (as of October 2014), translated by award-winning author Ken Liu and published by Tor Forge, and thus available to those of us with insufficient grasp of Chinese, too. The 2nd book in the series (Dark Forest) is planned for next year, and is translated by Joel Martinsen. The final instalment (cheerfully titled Dead End) will come out in 2016, and will again be translated by Ken (or by Joel, depending on which source you believe).
I have no idea why Tor (who publish this book) advertise it as “the First Chinese Science Fiction Novel Translated Into English” - friends who follow the market in translated SF (and there is much more available than most people assume there is) strongly insist that it's not, except maybe for Tor. But either way, having more variety available in this US/UK dominated market is greatly appreciated, all the more so if it comes in the shape of such an engrossing and fascinating read. Yes, it's a step outside our comfort zone, outside our normalised societal expectations especially, and thus exactly what SF should be and do, in my opinion.
Just a short notice to let you know that the 6th chapter in Daniel Lieske's gorgeously drawn Wormworld Saga online graphic novel is now available for your reading.
It's good to see that he has started to publish these stories as books now, too, initially in German, but English versions seem to be under way, too (the online chapters have been and are being translated into umpteen languages by fans); plus there's any amount of merchandising and extra content available for a little cash, too, whilst the actual story remains free to read.
For those not familiar with the Wormworld Saga (you know who you are!) - it follows the travels and adventures of a boy, Jonas, who slips into a parallel universe from his Grandmother's attic. Neither the setting nor the topics dealt with are new (very few things are), but both the storytelling and especially the artwork are superb, and the format with a very long/tall image, with the story flowing through it is unusual (and must be challenging for conversion into books!).
Paul Park is an American SF and Fantasy writer, living in Massachusetts. He’s the author of the Starbrige Chronicles and the Princess of Roumania series, plus a number of stand-alone novels; and has been nominated for a number of awards, including the Nebula and the World Fantasy Award. He teaches SF writing at Williams College, and has been a teacher at several Clarion workshops.
All Those Vanished Engines is an unusual book for me, one which I picked up on a whim, based on the blurb and the cover; and one I approached without much in terms of expectations (except in the hope for a good/interesting read, of course!). I was, in the end, in equal parts thrilled, bewildered, and disappointed with what I found, I guess.
The book is split into 3 separate parts, which, initially, don’t seem to have anything to do with each other, but upon closer inspection betray small, but significant linkages and interdependencies (as well as inconsistencies, but that’s part of the programme here). The first story plays in an alternate past, in Petersburg, Virginia. Paulina is living with Gram, a formidable if sometimes confused old lady, and her servant Andrew. She has been given a bracelet (this one keeps re-appearing across the stories), made from braided gold and Elephant hair, and obtained in Ceylon by her cousin, a Confederate veteran and hero of the Battle of the Crater. This is a world where the Confederates did not lose the war, and where a treaty is in place between the southern states (apparently led or controlled by the UDC - the United Daughters of the Confederacy) and the Yankee Empress. The northern leaders had to provide babies, to be brought up by the UDC, as a guarantee, and we learn that Paulina is one of those. But now the Yankees seem to have broken the terms of the truce, and the armies are on the march again…
Paulina has been writing a story, set in a future and distant (or is it?) Petersburg, where there is no trace of the Confederacy, and humanity is battling Aliens from Mars (who appear to be using steam machinery), in a wintery landscape, at a crater from an explosion (yup, the crater, and the battle there, also keep recurring). This piece of SF contains a protagonist called Paulina, who is telling a story about a historical Paulina, living in a Confederate Petersburg…
Tom Williams is an English Author, Inline skater, and Tango dancer who splits his time between London and Wales. His Majesty’s Confidential Agent is his 3rd book of fiction (the previous ones were The White Rajah and Cawnpore), and his first one published by Accent Press.
In keeping with his earlier oeuvre this is, again, fictionalised history; but in a break from the previous two books which told of historic events through the eyes of the fictional John Williamson we now have an actual historical character as the protagonist. The character in question is one James Burke, an English spy during the Napoleonic wars (18th/19th century for those less educated in History/too lazy to google); and who seems to be at the heart of Tom William’s new series 'The Burke Papers'. The book begins with James Burke, born in Ireland, serving as a Lieutenant in the French army because he cannot afford the commission for the English one. He is in Haiti, fighting an uprising of slaves, led by the near-mythical Boukman (or Bookman). Through a twist of fate, driven by political upheavals in far-away Europe, he eventually ends up as an officer in the English army, and subsequently as a spy, due to his facility with languages.
In this new role he is sent to Argentina - at that time in Spanish possession (England being at war with Spain), and source of much of Spain’s silver. His main task is to follow up on the rumours of Argentinian freedom fighters, and to aid them. Obviously not to create a free Argentinian country, but to destabilise Spanish rule (and thus income), and potentially prepare for a English take-over. But he did not expect to fall in love with the wife of his (English) host, who is also the lover of a Spanish Admiral. Or with the country and its people…
James Burke is a real historical persona; and so are most of the other characters in the story; and the major events which take place are all in the history books. Still, as Williams points out, Burke must have been a very good spy, as we know very little detail about him and his doings. Of course this gives a writer of historical fiction quite some scope to play with - something which Tom Williams does to great effect here. The characters are vivid, and (in the main) believable as human beings, and the story draws you in and takes you along instead of simply giving the feeling that it only colours in the gaps between known historical events, as so often is the case.
How do you follow up an Award-nominated Hard-SF novel on posthumanity and the evolutionary and Darwinian value of consciousness if you've shot your load (the author's wording, not mine...) on the topic on the first novel? Peter Watt's answer is by expanding the scope of players for humanity's future (which might not contain much humanity as we know it), and by adding religion to the mix – as he points out, 'faith-based Hard SF' might well be the ultimate oxymoron. Might. And, of course, the fitness to survive question keeps posing itself.
Peter Watts is an award-winning Canadian SF Writer, a lapsed marine biologist, a survivor of necrotising fasciitis, and a convicted felon (just ask the TSA) who will not enter the US again. I guess there are worse fates... His output to date includes the claustrophobic, end-of the world (and it had it coming) Rifters trilogy, two collections of short stories (including the one with the most self-effacing title ever: Ten Monkeys Ten Minutes), the Hugo-nominated novel Blindsight, and now the follow-up to that story, Echopraxia. Echopraxia is coming out, more or less simultaneously, in English, Russian, French, German, Polish, and Japanese. In the UK it will only be available in a few months' time, until then you then you either get a book called Firefall, containing both Blindsight and Echopraxia, or you buy the US edition, of course...
Echopraxia is the involuntary repetition of someone else's movements. How this fits into the larger story is clever, and cannot be part of this review, it would spill ways too many beans!
This story, and the Hugo Awards, have a bit of a history, with the story being first nominated in 2012, then disallowed for being an Audio-only book; subsequently published as written words in 2013, and thus eligible for the ballot again this year. And deservedly winning it.
Elma was the first human on Mars, in the 50s, known to all and sundry as the Lady Astronaut of Mars. Now, approaching her dotage (and living on Mars) she is offered the opportunity she wasn't daring to hope for anymore, but kept dreaming of: to go back into space, back to the stars. But going means leaving her terminally ill, beloved husband behind...
I won't spoil more of the story, the above is more than enough already. This is exceedingly well written - it is engaging, thought provoking, and ever so slightly twee and soppy. Just enough to make it feel comfortable, as someone pointed out. Indeed.
You can read the whole story, including some more on the convoluted background and publication history over at Tor.com.
