Death’s End - Book Club Review

This is our third review of Hugo Nominated novels in 2017. The previous reviews were Closed and Common Orbit and The Obelisk Gate.

It would be difficult for any sequel to live up to Cixin Liu’s Hugo-Winning The Three Body Problem. The immediate sequel, The Dark Forest was an uneven and flawed book that had some merit. But the much-heralded conclusion of the trilogy, Death’s End, completely misses the mark.

At least the cover art is pretty cool.
(Image via Amazon.com) 

The plot is meandering and unfocused. Protagonist Cheng Xin is first introduced as an engineering student and object of desire, and later as the swordbearer — a person tasked with protecting humanity through mutual deterrence — but then becomes a time traveller observing various eras of civilization as humanity faces one massive world-ending crisis after another.

The End Is Nigh Again

One of the recurring themes in “big” science fiction is the impending end of the world. In Death’s End, the end of the world is nigh on no fewer than six occasions, only to be averted suddenly through deux et machina each time.  The frequency of these calamities within the book, and how precipitously they are forgotten devalues them, and left our book group struggling to care.

The character of Cheng Xin is one of the weakest parts of the book, as none of us were really able to understand her motivations or her personality. She’s faced with conflict after conflict throughout the book, and presented with a wide variety of moral dilemmas, but through it all she remains a cypher.

In the previous two books the author wrote from several points of view other than the main character.

Cixin Liu is China's most
popular SF author.
(Image via Tor.com)

Death’s End focuses almost solely on Cheng Xin, with just a brief portion from Tianming’s perspective. This leaves other interesting characters — like Luo Ji and Wade — on the sidelines. The omission of their perspectives is a missed opportunity that points to the lack of depth in the book.

Everything And The Kitchen Sink

Characters, however, do not seem to be what Liu is interested in as an author. He is a writer who likes to tackle ‘big ideas,’ and this book is jammed full of ‘big’ science fictional ideas: the weaponization of space-time geometry; societally determined gender selection; interstellar mutual deterrence; manipulating the speed of light; and the inevitable heat death of the universe.

If Liu had focused on one of these ideas instead of jumping from one to the next, the book might have been stronger. Both concepts and plot elements are suddenly dropped and never mentioned again. A whole chapter is dedicated to a black hole, which turns out to be entirely irrelevant. Human civilization is on the brink of war, but Cheng Xin miraculously stops the war in less than a page, at which point it becomes irrelevant.

Men Are From Mars Or Wherever

Some of us were troubled by the sexist assumptions that underpin portions of Death’s End’s plot. During a peaceful era that Cheng Xin explores, men are 'feminized' and indistinguishable from women, because according to the author, men are only needed for conflict. It’s an attitude that is demeaning to women, because it’s suggested they cannot deal with conflicts without men, and it’s demeaning to men because it suggests that all they are good for is fighting.

Because the book lacks any focus, and because Liu’s ideas are never fully explored, Death’s End ends up being less than the sum of its parts. The scattered plot, the scant development of these ideas, and the lack of human characters make this an unworthy nominee. Two years ago, most of our group voted for The Three Body Problem. This year, none of us are likely to rank Death’s End very high on our Hugo Ballot.

A Closed And Common Orbit — Book Club Review

This is the second book that our book club has discussed. Previously, we reviewed The Obelisk Gate.

Becky Chamber’s sophomore effort is a book of hidden depths. The more we talked about this book, the more we found to like in it.

Image via Amazon.com

Although it appears at first to be a relatively simple work that might have been too juvenile for serious consideration, A Closed And Common Orbit’s cleverly paralleled storylines and focus on well-developed characters make it a serious contender for our votes.

A companion piece, not a sequel

Set as they are in the same universe, it is hard to discuss A Closed And Common Orbit without comparing it to Chambers’ first novel Long Way To A Small And Angry Planet.

Leading off from Chamber’s debut novel, this book explores the lives of two incidental characters from the earlier work, but does not continue any overarching plot. It’s pleasant to note that A Closed And Common Orbit is enriched by, but was not dependent on, the author’s previous book. Those in our book club who had not read the previous book did not feel like they were at a disadvantage.

While themes of fitting in and finding a family of accepting friends recur throughout the two novels, the first was a fast-paced (if uneven) adventure novel, while the more recent book is a coming of age story.

Twin narratives

That journey into adulthood is what Chambers does so well in this book. Of the two parallel stories being told in the book, we felt that the one focusing on the character of Jane (AKA Pepper) is the most engaging. Some felt her observations are written with a significant level of insight into child psychology.

But the story of Sidra — a shipboard AI who has been installed into a humanoid body — counterpoints the first narrative well. While Jane’s struggles are about physical and emotional survival, Sidra’s challenges are about identity and finding a social space. Sidra’s confusion and dismorphia were well imagined, which left us with a lot to think about.

Image via the author's
website otherscribbles.com

There are no grand statements here, just quiet and human observations about coming of age without a ‘traditional’ support system, and about finding a way to fit in. This is a split timeline tale of abandonment, friendship, acceptance and hope.

This is not a book about saving the galaxy, fighting a war, or stopping some great evil — the stakes are entirely human, and perhaps this is one of the book’s greatest strengths. It’s a human-scale story to which many will relate.

Written to be understood

The prose is clear, crisp, brisk, informal and modern. Chambers has her own voice, but is not too in love with the sound it. This is simply written, without navelgazing or overly precious phrases.

This is a novel that one can hand to a friend who does not read science fiction, and expect them to enjoy it. There's a lot of value in that. 

Generic Space Setting

Becky Chambers’ strength is not world building. Both of her books so far feature fungible aliens from central casting, off-the-shelf worlds, and a feel-good interstellar society not dissimilar from the United Federation of Planets.

But this is actually not a bad thing, since digging into the world doesn’t detract from what’s important in the book: the relationships and the characters. Numerous novels in recent years have been marred by too much focus on the universe, and not enough focus on the characters.

Amongst a bevvy of nominees in which the narratives are epic and bombastic, the humanity of A Closed And Common Orbit stands out. Amongst a group books whose prose is opaque and whose language is obfuscatory, the clarity and readability of A Closed And Common Orbit stands out.

Nobody in our group disliked the book — which is rare. And some of the members of our club are likely to put this at or near the top of their Hugo ballot. 

The Hugo For Best Graphic Story (Part 2) – The ballot in 2017

This is part two of a two-part blog post. The first part, discussing the history of the category, is found here. 

Given the problematic history of this category, the shortlist this year for Best Graphic Story is mostly of a surprisingly consistent professional calibre. Some are only marginally worth being on a Hugo ballot, but none of them are completely risible as nominees.

The only real outlier — Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Black Panther — is an understandable nomination given the highly anticipated series had such potential, started off promisingly, and received a fair amount of media attention. One can understand why it received a nomination, despite its deep flaws.

Second servings not as good

Previous winners from high-profile publishers, Ms. Marvel and Saga, are back with new volumes.

Too many crossovers
spoil a great series.
(Image via Marvel.com)

Saga has started to get into a bit of a rut, with the same notes being replayed. The first volume of the series is one of the most worthy winners of the Hugo for Best Graphic Story … but volume six does not offer the same sense of wonder as its predecessor.

Ms. Marvel’s fifth volume definitely offers more narrative progress, but it’s also closely tied into and influenced by a massive multi-comic-book crossover that makes it more impenetrable to new readers.

It’s hard to count either of them out, because this category has often returned to the well for nominees and winners. However, these two books should definitely not win.

Under the radar but delightful

Paper Girls — which is written by Saga creator Bryan K. Vaughn — is a real treat to see on the ballot. It’s a kick-ass, inventive little book that follows a group of young girls who deal with the consequences of an alien invasion. It will be difficult to keep this story going as an ongoing series, but for now it’s just a delight.

Image via
marjoriemliu.com

The least well-known of the nominees, Monstress by Majorie Liu and Sana Takeda, is also one of the most worthy. The creative team uses the medium with skill and nuance to create a well-realized and inventive fantasy world. The feminist subtext helps make this a definite contender.

The Vision: Little Worse Than A Man is more of a science fiction comic than anything that Marvel has published in a decade, despite featuring a lead character who is a regular of the mainstream Avengers. The garish ‘50s-style colour palette, and the goofy backstory of the character, are completely subverted as Tom King has crafted something moody and thoughtful that is more informed by Asimov’s robot stories than by 50 years of Marvel continuity.

This is a solid Hugo ballot with three completely reasonable choices.  We are likely to cast our ballots for Monstress and for Paper Girls. For once in this category, “No Award" is unlikely to be on our ballot.