Coyote vs. Revelation Space
An ongoing discussion of what I love and hate about Science Fiction
Comments on Revelation Space & Coyote
When I picked out books for this semester, I never intended for there to be an overarching theme – at least not with the fiction pieces. Instead I had simply hoped to find material that would inspire me to write better.
If I’d stuck to the two books I originally contracted for, Allan Steele’s A King of Infinite Space and Alastair Reynolds Revelation Space, I would have been severely disappointed. Worse, (putting on my drama persona), I think my writing would have become even more horrific, more tell, less show and just an excuse for crowding paper with endless junk.
Steele’s Infinite Space was so bad – due to an extended case of first person babble that was going nowhere fast – that I switched it out to the same author’s Coyote, an excellent work of fiction that belongs on any Science Fiction aficionado’s shelf.
I stuck with Revelation Space as my other book, even though it’s probably at the top of my short list of what NOT to put on your shelf. I wanted to attempt to discern why it is considered such a critical success. As demonstrated by my notes below, however, I never did figure out why this bore of a book was such a hit.
When I read fiction, there’s a set of benchmarks I use to measure the story’s ability to reach me as a reader:
Theme: Needs to be, if not original, at least unique in its perspective of a concept or set of issues. Does the theme resonant with me, as the reader? Do I walk away from the finished book with a sense of accomplished exploration? (Ok, obviously this demonstrates that I’m not into reading fluff).
Plot: Does it move forward at all times? Does every line of dialogue, every moment of action advance the story line? Do I rush through the pages, devouring every word, eager to know what happens next?
Character: Last but not least, do I care about the people in this story? Am I invited deep inside their POV? Do I cry with them? Laugh, get angry? Does that shared experience fulfill an element of my own emotional needs that perhaps can’t be explored on this plane of reality?
Using a 5 point system, here’s my take on the two books in question.
THEME:
Coyote: **** out of 5
In the vernacular of Firefly, Coyote is a big damn book about big damn things. Things that matter, such as liberty and the individual’s pursuit of happiness. There’s a timeliness to Steele’s theme due to current events through his pitting the liberal rebels against the ‘evil’ conservatives, sure, but these issues have been around for a millennia. The background story works well coupled with a plot of exploration and humanity’s ability to adapt to new planets no matter the odds.
Much of what Steele reaches for parallels my own efforts with Critical Past. Social commentary is great fodder for science fiction where ‘what-ifs’ can be explored as cautionary tales. And I admire Steele’s ability to never tell, just show the reader how things are wrong, or off our general expectations.
Perhaps my only complaint regarding theme with Coyote was how the second half of the book focused on two teens and their coming of age. Realization and epiphany happen at many stages of life. Having teens experience this in a backdrop of new world exploration was a tad lazy in my opinion.
Back on the positive, I suspect that I will want to reread this book again right before I do a rewrite on CP that focuses on world building (for both the
Science fiction that touches on big sociological themes will always be my favorite. For a good decade or so, I found myself straying from reading new authors because I found their material to be more techno-focused than issue-focused. The fact that a relatively new writer (new compared to Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, etc) is exciting for me - not just as a reader but also as a writer. Grand themes and science fiction make excellent bedfellows for storytelling.
Revelation Space * out of 5
Theme? What theme? That a lack of civilizations in the galaxy is mysterious? Excuse me while I shrug my shoulders. Reynolds throws so many concepts, gadgets and widgets at the reader that it is almost impossible to pick up on the theme of this story. Known as a Space Opera I expected so much more – some sort of grand examination of what is good vs. evil like Star Wars, or the machinations of good mixed with evil like any classic SOAP opera.
The ‘idea’ in itself is a good one, but the author never does anything with it. He seems to be so caught up in his creations of technology and even those creations do nothing to impress upon the reader a sense of theme. Instead we’re left with techno-babble and clever gadgets that don’t help to tell the story.
This is my least favorite type of science fiction. Hard Science Fiction, as I would classify this, even though the publishers referred to it as a Space Opera, seems to revolve around the gear and not the people. And even when the gear is imaginative, it doesn’t ‘speak’ to that inner soul the way a good story exploring the issues of humanity can.
PLOT
Coyote ****1/2 out of 5
Steele’s Coyote interweaves several sub-plots that focus around its underlying story of interstellar travel and colonization. Of course there is the classic plot of the Captain’s struggles to help his crew and colonists persevere despite the difficult challenges of a hostile government that has eliminated all individual rights and a wild new planet. Interweaved with this story are the ‘coming of age’ tales of a teenaged girl (which takes up about a third of the novel – and done in 1st person, not 3rd like the rest of the book) and a teenage boy who, having accidental death of one of his friends, runs into the wilderness to find himself amongst the wilds of the new world’s frontiers where he learns the value of independence and self-reliance.
There is one particular sub-plot that is so filled with wonder and intensity that I was left envious by the author’s talents. Shortly after the Alabama, the ship, leaves for its new home, a journey of almost 2 centuries, all the crew and passengers are put in hibernation. Due to a technical mishap, one crewman (Gillis) is woken up just weeks after take-off and can’t get the computer to put him back down. After a powerful and heart wrenching emotional struggle, he finds a sort of peace by writing an epic fantasy mythos with accompanied murals painted on the cabin walls. Two centuries later, when the crew and families wake up, they discover Gillis’ books and paintings.
Though Steele further delves into this self created mythos by having the colonists name a few places on their new world after characters in Gillis’ story, I think he missed a golden opportunity to go further, to use the fantasy tale as foreshadowing or allegory of what happens to the Alabama and its passengers. Steele’s story within a story had the potential to be a poignant and cautionary tale for both the characters, and readers, of how fantasy and reality are disparate elements in the human psyche – no matter how much we’d like it to be otherwise.
Revelation Space *
Lack of theme is joined by a lack of plot in this novel. Pages are taken up describing an unusual gadget and then only a line or two given to advancing the story. (The spine of my copy of this book has several serious dents in it from throwing it against a wall). And where Steele uses demonstrations of political machinations to motivate his characters into action, and thus propel the plot forward, Reynolds get caught up in a quagmire of telling the reader what’s happening on the political front versus allowing us to experience it for ourselves. When the plot is set in motion by the main character, Dan Sylveste, finding an alien artifact that points to why a civilization was destroyed, we never get to know what the artifact looks like. Instead, the author is caught up in telling us the etymology behind the lettering on the obelisk. For pages, I might add.
Reynolds does this constantly and it pulled me out of the story constantly. I felt like I was being lectured to instead of having a story told to. The devil is in the details, and in this case the ‘devil’ distracts completely distracts from the story.
CHARACTER
Coyote **** out of 5
Steele does a great job of getting us inside the characters heads. By fine-tuning his writing style to match the personality of the character whose POV is front and center, every piece of action takes on significance. There are a handful of main characters in the story and each individual’s tale adds to the overall plot and theme of the story. You care about these people, even when they disagree with the heroes of the book, because you are allowed in close – not kept at arm’s length.
As I mentioned earlier in this blog, I would have preferred to have had the two teens not be teens. Redundant but true. Steele taps into Heinlein’s ‘coming of age’ technique quite well, true. But most of the issues these two characters explore are pretty much ‘non-issues’ to someone post the teen years.
My favorite character was the Captain. And my first initial reaction to that attitude is Of course, I always like the one in charge who’s a hero. But I actually think there’s more to it in this case. Captain Lee is a complex character filled with wonderful markers of black and white when it comes to ethical issues but he’s not afraid to look at the grey, to sort through the opposing views in order to make a fair decision. Coupled with his obvious leadership qualities, this added element makes him a thinking man’s hero. As a reader, I cared about what happened to Lee because he cared. He cared enough to look at all sides before planning his course of action.
Revelation Space * out of 5
Reynolds again reminds me of what I hate in some science fiction. His characters are two-dimensional. The reader is kept at a distance, never permitted insight into what the different main characters are experiencing. Instead we are told how they feel. For me this makes the material dry, boring and a struggle to get through.
There are countless missed opportunities through this book where the author could have delved into the reactions and responses of his ‘cast’. If Reynolds had spent more time on characters and less on his techno-wizardry, there may have actually been a good story here.
From the first meeting with Sylveste, the archaeologist/politician who will stop at nothing to uncover the obelisk to the scenes surrounding Triumvir Ilya Volyova’s struggles to stop the expansion of the melding plague which has affected the ship's captain, we are left wanting more. More substance, more human perspective.
Not another widget to admire.
So what makes great science fiction and what makes another piece of junk to collect dust on my shelves? To answer this question, I have to look back at Asimov’s works. Considered one of the greatest science fiction writers of all times, there were good reasons for it. Sure, he had some inventive, wild technologies he introduced (in the 50’s, Robots and interstellar space ships made for pretty fantastic stuff). But the key, I believe, lies in the substance and perspectives in his books. As my father used to point out, Isaac’s novels were always about two people sitting in a room talking.
The operative word in that statement is people. People reacting to circumstances of science and its implications on civilization.
And that is what I truly love about the genre.
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