Salt, Adam Roberts

Salt is an interesting sort of book; it does have a plot, but really the central point is not the setting (the planet Salt) or background, though we do see that, but a clash between two different ideologies. Roberts handles it pretty cleverly: as soon as you find yourself sympathising with one side, they do something awful. The voices are clever, too — more Barlei than Petja, because he reveals who he is and his self-satisfied, propagandist agenda with every word. I could never quite sympathise with his side of things, given that. I didn’t really side with either of them: it seemed like such a typical case of two different ways of life clashing, with no one really trying to understand the other — with the very act of trying to understand the other even being part of the problem, because they were just so incompatible.

The only place the voice really fails for me is when Rhoda Titus takes over narrating. It feels like the story just trickles to a stop there; there’s no resolution. Now, maybe the story warrants none; maybe there is none. But when you’re writing a book you can’t just let it dribble into silence in this awkward way.

It’s a clever/interesting set-up, and well-written for the most part — some of the passages about the landscape of Salt are gorgeous, and the voice of President Barlei is perfect too (unless, uh, you’re meant to like him and not see right through him). Just failed to satisfy when it comes to the ending.

Rating: 3/5

Elric of Melniboné and Other Stories, Michael Moorcock

My problem with Moorcock’s work has always been how interlinked it is. It doesn’t matter how much anyone tells me that x or y book doesn’t require knowing the rest of Moorcock’s canon, I’m compulsive that way and I want to know everything. From the start. So I’m glad to see these definitive Gollancz editions are author approved and fairly exhaustive in what they cover. I don’t think anything in here was covered by the omnibus I had before (and have read), which was nonetheless marked I. That drives me crackers.

And… I know it was a long time ago I made that attempt on Elric, but I think I liked this better. It establishes Melniboné beautifully, it shows us Elric’s first encounters with Stormbringer, his rule of Melniboné, his enemies and allies, his first pacts with Chaos. It’s a little awkward reading the comic book script, but fun, too — you get much franker comments about how Moorcock wanted Elric to look, and you can get an idea about the layout of pages, etc. It’s like reading a hybrid form.

I love the language Moorcock uses, the decadence and ruin and rot and dark beauties he lays bare. The magical world he creates. I’m looking forward to reading more of Elric. Also, his commentary on the genre which is included is excellent and worth reading.

Rating: 4/5

Slow Bullets, Alastair Reynolds
Received to review via Netgalley

It’s been ages since I read any of Alastair Reynolds’ work, and I think it’s high time for a reread. This novella reminded me of all the things I loved about his series: weird unknowable aliens, amazing tech, mysterious cataclysms, and yes, a strong female character too. And maybe now, with the extra reading and studying I’ve done since, I’ll know more about the science aspect of the fiction as well, and be able to appreciate it more.

This is an engaging read, narrated by a survivor from a war that bears some similarities with conflicts of the modern day: two sides, fighting over different interpretations of a Book, in which there is beauty and power but also the potential for great division. Yet these survivors have to put that aside, because it’s no longer relevant. The story has elements of a generation ship set-up, along with exploration of a mysterious object — in this case, the ship itself, which is suffering from data loss for reasons that, at first, take some understanding.

If you’re really wedded to hard SF, then the Sickening might annoy you, coming as it does without an explanation of the mechanism. I don’t know if it’s explainable or not, but that didn’t matter to me; it was a backdrop for the situation Reynolds created aboard this ship.

There’s something rather dispassionate and unpredictable about the narrator, Scur. I was never sure what she was going to do, what exactly drove her. But I get the sense that that was, in many ways, intentional — and given the way she’s telling her story, unavoidable. Part of the way she’s telling the story bothers me a little — seriously, etching 50,000 words into metal? — but I don’t mind suspension of disbelief, and at least the style matches with that conceit: Scur doesn’t waste her words.

Overall, very enjoyable for me. My sister’s hopping with impatience for it already…

Rating: 4/5