Tag Archives: Space Opera

[August 14, 1966] So Bad It's Hilarious (The Star Magicians by Lin Carter/The Off-Worlders by John Baxter (Ace Double G-588))

August 14, 2021 Cora Buhlert 4 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Science Fiction at the Newsstand

Issue 258 of Perry Rhodan features the fan favourite character Gucky the mouse beaver on the cover, expertly drawn by Johnny Bruck.

Ever since its debut almost five years ago, West German science fiction has been synonymous with the dime novel series Perry Rhodan. Issue 258 of Perry Rhodan came out this week and so far, the series shows no sign of faltering.

Success breeds imitators and so there have been challengers for the crown of West Germany's premier science fiction series. The first challenger Mark Powers was hampered by old fashioned and inconsistent plots and so the series was discontinued in 1964, though Mark Powers still occasionally pops up in the pages of the anthology series Utopia Zukunftsroman.

This month, a new challenger appeared on West German newsstands. Ren Dhark is penned by former Perry Rhodan writer Kurt Brand and published by Kelter Verlag. Only one issue has come out so far, but what I've read looks promising.

The first issue of Ren Dhark, the latest Perry Rhodan challenger

The story begins in the far off future of 2051 AD, when overpopulation – a popular theme in current science fiction, as Harry Harrison's Make Room, Make Room! and several of the stories collected in Orbit 1 show – forces humanity to look for a new home among the stars. So the starship Galaxis under the command of Captain Sam Dhark (no reason is given for the odd spelling of the name) departs for Deneb with fifty thousand colonists. However, the time effect drive malfunctions, stranding the Galaxis in the depths of space, turned into an involuntary generation ship.

Eventually, the Galaxis, now commanded by the titular Ren Dhark, son of the late captain, manages to find a habitable planet. But their problems have only just begun, because the planet in question is not only habitable, but also inhabited…

Ren Dhark started out promising enough, though not particularly innovative. Nonetheless, I will certainly haunt the newsstand on the lookout for issue 2.

Science Fiction at the Spinner Rack

However, my main source of new science fiction is still the spinner rack at my local import bookstore. And during my last visit, I managed to snap up the latest Ace Double, number G-588 to be exact, which includes The Off-Worlders by John Baxter and The Star Magicians by Lin Carter.

The Off-Worlders has just been serialised in New Worlds under the title The God Killers, so I'll just point you to Mark Yon's review of the novel and delve right into the other half of this Ace Double.

Most readers of the Journey will probably know Lin Carter mainly from his "Our Man in Fandom" columns in If, but he is also an up and coming science fiction and fantasy writer. Erika Frank reviewed his sword and sorcery novel The Wizard of Lemuria last year. Now, Carter has set his sights on space opera, though barbarians still feature prominently.

A Familiar History

Amazingly, Jack Gaughan's cover is an accurate illustration of a scene in the novel.

The Star Magicians begins with one of those dreaded information laden prologues which occasionally afflict science fiction novels. In fact, when I read the capsule history of the fall of the Great Carina Empire, I briefly wondered whether I had accidentally picked up a later book in an ongoing series.

But even if there is no previous novel in the series, the history of the Carina Empire, which is beset by barbarians at its borders and eventually breaks apart and descends into a new dark age, will seem familiar to anybody who knows even a lick of history, for here is the fall of the Roman Empire replayed once again in outer space.

However, one planet stands firm against the new dark age and the barbarian Star Rovers: the planet Parlion, which is inhabited by a group called the White Wizards, who preserve science and technology and are considered magicians by their less enlightened neighbours. If that story seems familiar, it's probably because you've read it before when it was still called Foundation and penned by Isaac Asimov.

Naked Bodies and Tortured Metaphors

Once the actual plot begins, the novel becomes more engaging, though not necessarily better or more original. The story proper opens in an arena, where a would-be Conan gladiator is fighting against an alien monster, while the barbarian warlord Drask looks on and fondles a naked girl.

The naked girl is a captive princess, though you wouldn't know it from the first chapter. Carter repeatedly starts and then fails to describe the young woman, getting sidetracked by reminiscing about the conquest of the planet in a pitched space battle, describing the chafing and sweat-soaked leather and iron garb of a barbarian warrior and lovingly detailing the manly vigour and magnificent body of the gladiator (who will be dead within two pages, his "nakedness clothed in dripping scarlet").

Here's a typical example of Lin Carter's tortured prose. If this is too much for you, best bail out now, because the entire book is like that:

Above, in the royal box, Drask reclined at his ease on the satin cushions, half his cynical attention on the tragic drama unfolding below, and half on the trembling young girl beside him, whose nude breasts he was idly fondling. A philosopher in his rough way, the Warlord of the Star Rovers mused on the changeful ways of Fate. In this moment of time the young Argionid swordsman was filled with robust life, bursting with manly vigor in the full hot morning of his youth… in the next moment, his splendid, virile body would be an awful bundle of bloody rags, crushed in the inexorable jaws of the slavering thard.

We are toys at the feet of the gods, he thought.

When Carter finally remembers to describe the young princess – or rather her breasts – he compares them to "warm, white fruit", at which point I wondered whether Carter has ever seen a naked woman, or eaten fruit, for that matter.

After the would-be Conan has met his demise, we are finally introduced to the actual protagonist, Perion of North Hollis (which sounds like a stop on the London Underground rather than a city on an alien planet), a minstrel sentenced to die in the arena for treason. However, Perion manages to outwit the monster and is pardoned and even invited to a feast of the Star Rovers, where he further ingratiates himself by stopping the captive princess from stabbing the warlord Drask. Her attempt at revenge foiled, the princess stabs herself and is forgotten within a page. We never even learn her name nor anything about her appearance except that she has breasts.

Lin Carter

White Wizards and Green Goddesses

What follows is a clunky and exposition laden dialogue, which not only repeats information we already got in the equally clunky prologue, but also reveals that there is only one person who can stand against the mighty warlord Drask, namely Calastor, one of the White Wizards of Parlion. Not only does Calastor have superior quasi-magic technology, he also has dozens of minions willing to do his bidding. Worse, no one knows what he looks like. "For aught we know, he might be standing among us at the very moment," mutters one of the few named Star Rovers at the feast. Anybody who has read Isaac Asimov's Foundation series may develop certain suspicions at this point.

Since the princess committed suicide, Drask is in need of a new bed companion and picks a random dancing girl, who promptly tries to stab him again. Even Drask, who's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, thinks that two assassination attempts in one night are a little much to be a coincidence. So he examines the dagger with which the girl tried to stab him and finds a glowing green stone, a talisman dedicated to the Green Goddess of Malkh. The dancing girl is one of her priestesses. For it turns out that Drask has not one but two sworn enemies in the galaxy, the White Wizard and the Green Goddess. Of course, it might have been helpful if Carter had mentioned that tidbit of information before.

The interrogation of the dancing girl, whose name is revealed to be Lurn, reveals nothing, because Lurn downs a potion that – no, this time around, the potion doesn't kill her, it only makes her fall asleep. When the sleeping Lurn is taken to the dungeon for further interrogation, she vanishes into thin air.

Lurn reappears on the next day, hidden in Perion's baggage, which leads to both her and Perion being arrested. During their interrogation, Perion is unmasked as none other than Calastor, the White Wizard and sworn enemy of Drask. This turn of events might have been a genuine surprise, if Carter hadn't borrowed it wholesale from "The Mule" part of Isaac Asimov's Foundation trilogy. And just in case you failed to notice the parallels, Perion is even shown with a (pack)mule shortly before his arrest. In fact, the only surprise is that the reveal happens halfway through the novel rather than at the end, as I expected.

Calastor and Lurn escape Drask by teleporting to safety and engage in yet another exchange of long explanations aboard Calastor's spaceship. Calastor reveals that he must stop Drask and the Star Rovers soon, because they are threatening the planet that the White Wizards of Parlion have picked out as the nucleus of the new galactic empire they are trying to build.

Smoke and Mirrors

The story now heads to Xulthoom, the planet of mists and also the planet that drives men mad. Xulthoom is a fascinating setting with its ancient ruins and perpetual mists and I wonder what e.g. Leigh Brackett could do with it. Lin Carter does not nearly have Leigh Brackett's skills, but even he manages to convey the spooky atmosphere of Xulthoom.

Calastor uses his quasi-magical science to mentally destabilise the Star Rovers and turn them against each other, while gizmo-speaking to Lurn and spouting an amount of nonsense about psionics that would impress even John W. Campbell.

Due to Calastor's manipulations, the Star Rovers go mad one by one and begin to hear voices. Some literally die of fear. In the end, even Drask himself hears a voice, supposedly that of the Green Goddess, warning him to return to the Rim Stars whence he came or suffer the consequences. However, the message from the Green Goddess is not Calastor's doing. There is another power at work here.

Spooked by the message of the Green Goddess, Drask finally gives the order to abandon Xulthoom – no, not to go home, but to conquer the next planet, the one planet that the White Wizards want to keep the Star Rovers away from at all costs.

Calastor summons some help from Parlion and together the White Wizards attempt to dissuade the Star Rovers from travelling onwards by projecting an illusion of space dragons attacking the fleet. However, the Star Rover shaman Abdekiel, an offensive Asian stereotype who is frequently likened to a "butter yellow buddha", sees through the ruse.

So Calastor and his companions teleport aboard the Star Rover flagship to face Drask and his men directly. The White Wizards use their mental powers to disarm the barbarians, while Calastor gets involved in a prolonged and remarkably well described swordfight.

The standoff is interrupted by the Green Goddess herself, who thoroughly smites the Star Rover fleet, a scene strikingly illustrated by Jack Gaughan on the cover. Finally, the Goddess teleports the adversaries away, metes out punishment to Drask and gives her blessing to the marriage of Calastor and Lurn (who turns out to be a princess as well), who will rule together over the world that will become the nucleus of the new empire.

An Unholy Mess

Lin Carter was aiming for Isaac Asimov's Foundation as written by Robert E. Howard. However, Carter has the skill of neither Asimov nor Howard and so the result is just a mess.

One technique that Carter borrows from Robert E. Howard is Howard's tendency to begin a story with a supporting character before his barbarian adventurer Conan steps onto the scene. But while Howard never leaves any doubt that Conan is the hero of the story, Carter seems unsure which of his characters is the protagonist. By rights, Calastor and Lurn should be the stars, but Calastor vanishes for chapters at a time and Lurn never even acquires a personality, so Drask, the villain, is the closest thing to a protagonist this unholy mess of a novel has.

Make no mistake, this is a terrible book. It's certainly the worst book I have ever reviewed for Galactic Journey. The plot is hackneyed, the prose is tortured and so purple that it almost crosses over into ultraviolet. In fact, this book is so awful that I wonder how desperate Ace must have been to publish it. If there was a Hugo Award for the worst science fiction novel, The Star Magicians would be the uncontested winner.

However, this novel has one redeeming feature: it is at least entertainingly terrible. In fact, the book is utterly hilarious. I was giggling the whole time I read it and regaled friends and family members with reading Lin Carter's awful prose out loud. If The Star Magicians were a parody, it would be absolutely brilliant. But unfortunately, it's supposed to be a serious space opera adventure.

I'm sure there is something that Lin Carter excels at and I hope that he will eventually find it. However, writing science fiction is not it.

One and a half stars

Workers at the AG Weser shipyard in Bremen are enjoyaing a well deserved break in the summer sun.

Meanwhile, these three young ladies are enjoying a swim in the Stadionbad public pool in Bremen.

Rosel George Brown's new hit novel, Sibyl Sue Blue, is much better than Lin Carter's book. You might want to get the taste out with it!

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 16, 1966] Spies, Poets and Linguists: Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

May 16, 2021 Cora Buhlert 10 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Crashing Starfighters

Before heading into the planned book review, I have sad news to relate: on May 10, two Lockheed F104G Starfighters of the West German air force collided over the North Sea and crashed into the waves, killing both pilots.

Lockheed Starfighter — A Lockheed F104G Starfighter, actually flying for once.

This would be a tragedy in itself, but what makes it even worse is that only eight days before, on May 2, another aircraft of the same type crashed near Rendsburg in the far north of West Germany, killing the pilot. Nor are these isolated incidents. All in all, the West German air force has lost fifty-four Lockheed Starfighters since 1961, twenty-six of them in 1965 alone. By now, the aircraft has a terrible reputation in West Germany, is nicknamed "widow maker" or "flying coffin," and also gave birth to tasteless jokes such as "How do you become the owner of a Starfighter? – Just buy a meadow and wait."

Starfighter crash Mörsen — This Starfighter crash in Twistringen, some 25 kilometres from where I live, cost not just the life of the pilot, but also that of a woman and her two daughters as well as a volunteer firefighter.

After so many crashes and avoidable deaths of both pilots and civilians on the ground, the West German parliament has finally launched an inquiry into why these accidents keep happening. Reasons include inadequate safety equipment and maintenance, general issues with the aircraft as well as the fact that West German Secretary of Defence Franz Josef Strauß, probably the worst German politician since 1945, requested alterations and add-ons, which the light fighter aircraft cannot handle.

West German Secretary of Defence Franz Josef Strauß poses in the cockpit of a Starfighter. A pity he won't be the one who's in the cockpit when the next Starfighter crashes.

Spies in Space

With so much grim news in the real world, you just want to escape into a book. So I was happy to find Babel-17, the latest science fiction novel by Samuel R. Delany, in the spinner rack at my local import bookstore. The blurb promised a mix of space opera and James Bond style spy adventure, which sounded right up my alley.

Babel-17 starts with a poem, and there are further poems scattered throughout the novel, used as chapter epigraphs. This is something you occasionally find in vintage pulp magazines, but rarely in contemporary science fiction. However, the use of poetry is entirely appropriate here, because Rydra Wong, protagonist of Babel-17, is a poet.

Rumour has it that the character is based on Samuel Delany's wife, the poet Marilyn Hacker, and that the poems found throughout the novel are her work. This is supported by a scene where Rydra Wong remembers the two men with whom she was in a triple marriage, a fellow writer named Muels Aranlyde and a geologist named Fobo Lombs. Muels Aranlyde is not just an anagram for Samuel R. Delany, he is also the author of a novel called Empire Star, which just happens to be the title of a novel Delany published earlier this year (reviewed here by our own Jason Sacks). Fobo Lombs is an anagram for Bob Folsom, a friend of the Delanys, to whom Babel-17 is dedicated.

After the poem, the novel proper opens with General Forester of the Alliance musing about invasions, embargos, hunger and cannibalism. From this, the reader deduces that Babel-17 is set in a galactic empire in the far future, which is at war. Later, we learn that warring parties, the Alliance and the Invaders, are both human.

The General is at bar, waiting to meet the above mentioned Rydra Wong. At twenty-six, Rydra Wong is not only the voice of the age and the most famous poet in the five explored galaxies, but also a linguistic genius with perfect verbal recall as well as breathtakingly beautiful. Oh yes, and she can read minds as well. Normally, characters this perfect simply annoy the reader. Rydra Wong, however, is endlessly fascinating, not just to the reader, but also to any man she meets. She has the magnetic charisma of James Bond, if James Bond were a brilliant female poet.

The military has hired Rydra Wong to solve a mystery. Factories and military installations have been experiencing mysterious accidents, which appear to be due to sabotage. Just before every accident, a burst of radio signals occurs. The signals seem to be encoded messages, but no one can crack the code, named Babel-17.

This is where Rydra Wong comes in. Using her linguistic genius, she determines that reason no one can decode Babel-17 is that it's not a code at all, but a language. Once Rydra realises that the messages are a dialogue, not a monologue, she makes headway in translating them and figures out where the next accident will occur. And since Rydra Wong also happens to have a space captain's licence, she is determined to go there.

As Rydra begins to translate more messages in Babel-17, she finds that her thoughts speed up to the point that regular English seems hopelessly slow and clumsy to convey meaning. Furthermore, Rydra realises that her uncanny abilities to guess what others are thinking from involuntary muscle movements are becoming more accurate and that she has also developed the ability to determine weak spots in anything from restraint webbing to attack patterns. Learning Babel-17 is literally changing the way Rydra perceives the universe.

A Multicultural Future

The next few chapters are given over to Rydra Wong recruiting her spaceship crew in various dodgy bars. These chapters are not only a lot of fun, they also serve to enrich the world Delany has built. We learn that cosmetic surgery is commonplace in this universe to the point that some people barely look human anymore and that walking around naked or nearly naked is not only perfectly acceptable, but socially expected. We also learn that there are so-called triples – marriages of three people – that are required for certain jobs aboard spaceships and that there are other jobs aboard spaceships that can only be done by what are essentially ghosts.

The reader also learns that Babel-17 is set in a multilingual and multiracial world. This is not your typical science fiction future where everybody speaks English – instead, there are myriad languages in this universe, snippets of some of which make their way into the novel. Our heroine Rydra Wong is an Asian woman, one of her three navigators, as well as Dr. Marcus T'mwarba, a psychologist who took in young Rydra after she was orphaned by the invasion, are black. None of this should sound unusual – after all, we live in a multilingual, multiracial and multi-ethnic world, so why should the future consist solely of white Americans? However, in practice science fiction all too often still offers up white monolingual all-American futures. Samuel R. Delany, however, is a black man and chose to show a more diverse future.

Samuel R. Delany is not just one of our most talented writers, he's also a very handsome man.

Treason Close to Home

Rydra's mission runs into problems almost immediately and her ship Rimbaud (named after French poet Arthur Rimbaud) suffers sabotage before it has even left Earth orbit. There is a traitor on board, but who?

Once the Rimbaud reaches her destination, the Alliance War Yards at Bellatrix, more trouble awaits. Delany goes into full James Bond mode here. First, he has Baron Ver Dorco, director of the War Yards, show off the secret superweapons developed there to Rydra, only for the Baron and several members of his staff to be murdered during a dinner party, when one of those superweapons, a shapeshifting android assassin, goes awry. The saboteur has struck again.

Rydra and her crew are not targeted by the saboteur, even though Rydra later notes that the murderous android had every chance to kill her. However, once Rydra and her crew return to the Rimbaud, they are struck by sabotage again, causing the ship to launch prematurely. Rydra muses that someone on board must speak Babel-17 and that this someone must be the saboteur. If you're thinking at this point that there is only one person aboard the Rimbaud who speaks Babel-17, you're on the right track.

Left adrift with their generators burned out, Rydra and crew of the Rimbaud are rescued by the pirate vessel Jebel Tarik. Though for a pirate ship, the Jebel Tarik has a surprisingly literate captain who is eager to discuss literature with Rydra. However, Rydra quickly impresses Captain Tarik in other ways as well, when she uses her Babel-17 derived abilities to aid the pirates during a raid and to save Tarik from an assassination attempt.

Rydra also bonds with Tarik's lieutenant Butcher, an amnesiac ex-con who was tortured by the Invaders and who cannot understand the concepts of "I" and "you". Rydra tries to teach him those concepts in a stunning dialogue where "I" and "you" are reversed throughout.

Rydra's next destination is the Alliance Administrative Headquarters. But before they can get there, they are attacked by the Invaders. Rydra, her crew and Butcher escape after a thrilling hand to hand battle in deep space. If you're thinking by now that Rydra Wong is remarkably unlucky, you're on the right track.

However, Rydra is not just remarkably unlucky, she is also very smart and so she eventually puts the pieces together in a nigh psychedelic and erotically charged scene where Rydra and Butcher merge both their bodies and minds. The saboteur and the traitor aboard the Rimbaud are revealed. So are Butcher's missing memories.

Reprogramming Human Brains

As the title implies, the solution to the mystery is Babel-17. For while Babel-17 is a language, it functions like a programming language, only that it programs not computers but human brains. Exposure to Babel-17 can turn people into unwitting traitors and replace their entire personality.

However, those who fell victim to Babel-17 can be deprogrammed. Furthermore, Rydra Wong has realised that what makes Babel-17 is so destructive is the lack of personal pronouns and the concepts of self and others. However, changing the language to include those concepts will also correct its flaws and stop the sabotage and the war. And so Rydra, Butcher and the rest of Rydra's loyal crew take off in a stolen Alliance battleship to put everything right and end the war. If only wars in the real world, such as the ongoing conflict in Vietnam, could be ended so easily.

Soft Science and Hard Linguistics

Space opera is often less scientifically rigorous than other types of science fiction. Babel-17, however, is based in real science. Though that science is not physics, chemistry or astronomy, but linguistics.

Campus Uni Vechta 1966 — The newly built campus of the Pedagogic College Vechta, where I taught linguistics.

I'm a translator and linguist by training and even taught English linguistics at the Pedagogic College in Vechta, a town in Northwest Germany (which also suffered a Starfighter crash, by the way). So I'm familiar with the linguistic theories behind Babel-17.

The concept that underlies Babel-17, both the novel and the fictional language, is the theory of linguistic relativity, which postulates that the structure and vocabulary of a language determines the speaker's thoughts, worldview and perception.

The theory of linguistic relativity goes back to Enlightenment era thinkers such as Johann Gottfried Herder and Wilhelm von Humboldt. Nowadays, it is mostly associated with the American linguists Edward Sapir and particularly Benjamin Lee Whorf (who also coined the term linguistic relativity) to the point that the theory is sometimes referred to as the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, even if Sapir and Whorf, though influenced by each other, did not actually develop the theory together. Working independently of Sapir and Whorf, West German linguist Leo Weisgerber has developed the similar theory of "inhaltsbezogene Grammatik" (content-related grammar), which is still influential in both West and East Germany.

Weisgerber's work is little known in the English-speaking world, but I am certain that Samuel R. Delany is familiar with both Sapir's and Whorf's work. The concept of allophones – variations of a spoken sound that belong to the same phoneme – which Rydra explains to General Forester early in the novel, was taken straight from Whorf's work.

The theory of linguistic relativity is popular among science fiction writers. Jack Vance also used it as the background for his 1957 novel The Languages of Pao. The idea that language determines thought and perception is certainly seductive and I can understand why science fiction writers keep using it. There is only one problem. The theory of linguistic relativity is not only controversial, but also very likely wrong.

Particularly Whorf comes in for a lot of criticism these days, some of which, e.g. the fact that too many of his hypotheses are based on anecdotal evidence, is justified, some of which, e.g. the sniffy disdain for the fact that Whorf was a chemical engineer by training and never actually completed a linguistics degree, is not.

Neither I nor most other linguists would go so far to declare that there is no link at all between the structure, grammar and vocabulary of a language and the perception and worldview of its speakers. After all, everybody who speaks more than one language has experienced that one language uses words and grammar to express concepts that the other does not even have. However, the link between language and worldview is not nearly as strong as Benjamin Lee Whorf and Leo Weisgerber claim.

Nor does the fact that a language does not have a word for a certain concept or perception mean that its speakers don't experience that perception. For example, English does not have an equivalent to the German word "Feierabend" (the time after work, literally "celebration evening"). Nonetheless English speakers are familiar with the joyful feeling of leaving the office or factory to head home, even if they don't have a word to describe it.

Meanwhile, the central concept of Babel-17, namely that learning and understanding a language can influence a person's thoughts and actions to the point that they lose their memories and identity and turn traitor, is – pardon me for being so blunt – nonsense and likely born out of Cold War fears about Manchurian Candidate style brainwashing and Communist sleeper agents. It does, however, make for a great story. Besides, science fiction thrives on extrapolating far-fetched and often impossible ideas from solid scientific theories. If we accept faster-than-light travel, then we can certainly accept Babel-17.

Babel-17 is many things: an action-packed space opera in the tradition of Planet Stories and Thrilling Wonder Stories, a James Bond style spy adventure in space, a meditation about language and how it influences our thoughts and identities and a primer on linguistic theories. Above all, however, it is a great science fiction novel, the best I've read this year so far.

Five stars.

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 4, 1965] Space Prison of Opera (February Galactoscope #1)

February 4, 2020 Rosemary Benton 4 Comments

Please enjoy this duet of stories by a pair of veterans (both the authors and the reviewers!)

by Cora Buhlert

The Escape Orbit by James White

When I spotted The Escape Orbit by James White in the spinner rack at my local import store, what first attracted me was the cover, showing two humans fighting a tusked and tentacled monstrosity. But what made me pick up the book was the tagline "Marooned on a Prison Planet". Because stories about space prisons are like catnip to me.

Though the space prison in The Escape Orbit is rather unconventional, housing human prisoners-of-war in the sixty-one year war with an alien race called "Bugs", because nobody can pronounce their real name.

At the beginning of the novel, the surviving officers of the battlecruiser Victorious ("erroneously named," the narrator Warren muses) are taken prisoner and dumped on what they assume is an uninhabited world. They are proven wrong, when one Lieutenant Kelso appears. Kelso informs the newcomers that the Bugs have dropped off half a million human prisoners-of-war on the planet with only scant supplies. Escape is supposed to be impossible. If the humans manage to flee anyway, there is a guardship in orbit. Kelso also insists that the newcomers are in danger.

It turns out that the human prisoners on the planet are divided into two groups. The Escape Committee, led by Kelso, who focus all their efforts on escaping, and the Civilians, led by one Fleet Commander Peters, who have resigned themselves to their fate and set up villages. The Civilians and the Committee are hostile towards each other and on the verge of fighting. The newcomers are expected to side with one group. But before making a decision, Warren wants to listen to both sides. And since he was Sector Marshall before he was captured, that makes him the highest ranking officer on the planet.

Warren and psychologist Ruth Fielding realise that the situation on the prison planet is volatile. The Committee is losing members, so those who remain become ever more fanatical. Ruth points out that the Committee are chauvinists, because most female prisoners join the Civilians and then seduce Committee members. Warren fears that as the Committee becomes more fanatical, they may try to take over the planet and cause a civil war. To prevent this, Warren decides to use his position to keep things calm. He joins the Escape Committee as a counterweight to Fleet Commander Peters and the Civilians.

The Great Escape… in Space

Warren takes over the Committee, learns about the escape plan and schedules the escape for three years in the future. He starts a good will initiative towards the Civilians to persuade them to help. Warren also tries to squash the not so latent male-centered prejudice among the Committee and appoints Ruth Fielding to his staff.

Warren may be no chauvinist, but he doesn't know much about women and people in general. And so he is surprised that the Civilians are forming families and having children. At this point, one suspects Warren needs a crash course in human biology. Furthermore, Warren also manages to bungle the chance at a relationship with Ruth Fielding – twice.

Once Warren succeeds in winning many Civilians over, the bulk of the novel focusses on the preparations for the escape. However, Warren also furthers the progress of technology, improves the communication network as well as the distribution and preservation of knowledge and even organises the colonisation of another continent.

As the escape draws closer, tensions erupt both between Civilians and Committee members as well as within the Committee itself. Things come to a head when a new group of prisoners arrives a few days before the escape. Hubbard, one of the new prisoners, reports that the war is over, because humans and Bugs have managed to battle each other to a standstill and both civilisations are falling apart. Even if the escape succeeds, it will be futile, because there is no military to return to.

Warren imprisons Hubbard and goes ahead with the escape anyway. The attempt succeeds and Committee commandos manage to hijack both the enemy shuttle and the guardship. The surviving Bugs are taken prisoner and sent to the planet, while their ship is crewed by the most loyal Committee members.

Warren returns to the planet once more to explain his true plan. For he had realised even before the arrival of Hubbard that the human military would collapse and that there was little hope of rescue. Warren also realised the prison planet was on the verge of civil war and would regress to savagery within a few generations.

By giving everybody a shared purpose, Warren managed to smooth over the tensions, preserve knowledge and create a stable society. Furthermore, he also used the escape to separate potentially violent Committee members from the general population. Warren announces that he will take off with the Committee members deemed unsuited to peaceful life and leave the rest of the former prisoners behind to rebuild civilisation. He also admonishes them to communicate and cooperate with the Bug prisoners, so future wars can be avoided.

I'm usually pretty good at gauging where novels are headed, but The Escape Orbit surprised me. Initially, the book seemed like a science fiction version of the WWII prisoner-of-war escape tales that have proliferated in both the German and English speaking world in recent years. The best known English language example is The Great Escape by Paul Brickhill from 1950, which was turned into a Hollywood movie two years ago. Meanwhile, in West Germany there is a flood of POW novels such as So weit die Füße tragen (As far as the feet will go, 1955) by J.M. Bauer or Der Arzt von Stalingrad (The Doctor of Stalingrad, 1956) by Heinz G. Konsalik, who specialises in such tales and also penned Strafbataillon 999 (Penal battalion 999, 1959), where the twist is that prisoners and guards are nominally on the same side. All of these novels were huge bestsellers and turned into successful movies and TV series.

Not actually Sector Marshall Warren and Major Ruth Fielding, but O.E. Hasse and Eva Bartok in the 1959 film adaption of Heinz G. Konsalik's bestselling novel "The Doctor of Stalingrad"

In The Great Escape and the various West German novels, escaping from the terrible conditions of a POW camp is a matter of survival. However, the conditions on the prison planet in The Escape Orbit are far from terrible. And so I quickly sided with the Civilians and wondered why Warren and the Committee were so eager to escape, when they were better off on the planet than wasting their lives in what was clearly a pointless war. For a time, I even had the sinking feeling that I had accidentally purchased a military science fiction novel akin to Robert A. Heinlein's 1959 Starship Troopers, which I disliked immensely, once I realised I was not in fact reading about a dystopia, but about a society the author considered admirable.

But White tricked me, for Warren was on the side of the Civilians all along and the escape plan was a way to occupy the Committee fanatics and keep them from interfering with the establishment of a peaceful society. Of course, military (science) fiction can be both pro- and anti-war. The Escape Orbit comes down firmly on the anti-war side. I was surprised to see a high ranking officer like Warren portrayed sympathetically, because in West German postwar literature and film, any officer with a rank higher than captain is usually portrayed as a blustering idiot or bloodthirsty warmonger, probably inspired by real world experiences with both types during WWII.

I knew nothing about James White before picking up this novel. Turns out White is a long-time science fiction fan and author best known for his Sector General stories about a hospital space station. White hails from Belfast (Andersontown, the city in the novel, is named after the suburb where he lives) in Northern Ireland, where religious tensions run high. Thus, White knows how easily hostilities between opposing groups can escalate into violence.

The Escape Orbit is not quite as brand-new as I assumed, since the novel was serialised, almost identically, as Open Prison (a more appropriate title in my opinion) in New Worlds last year, reviewed by our own Mark Yon.

The Escape Orbit is very much an anti-Analog novel, where humans are not superior to the aliens, where war is pointless and cooperation, both between humans and aliens and opposing groups of humans, is preferable to fighting. This is certainly a message for our times, as the spectre of war raises its ugly face again in South East Asia.

Four stars

Space Opera by Jack Vance

By Rosemary Benton

Jack Vance is a gifted writer who has received a lot of attention in the last year. He has rightfully been awarded praise for his world building in Ace Double F-265 and "The Star King", but thus far has proven to be somewhat inconsistent in the pacing of his stories. This is not to say that he hasn't been rapidly improving his writing. At times his storytelling has been spot on, such as in "The Kragen".

Thankfully, with "Space Opera" he does not fall short in either department. The pacing and world building are both excellent, but with Vance's latest release there still remain issues that prevent his works from rising beyond "entertaining", or even "ambitious". He has yet to become "timeless", but by God does he come close sometimes.

"Space Opera" is Vance's newest novel. In it he tells the story of humanity's pride, and how fragile it is. In the far future, Earth's high society is still very much preoccupied with its perceived perfection of music as an art form and humanity's generally superior understanding of music as a universal concept. Dame Isabel, a patron of the operatic arts, takes it upon herself to honor a promise made to a troupe of visiting musicians from the elusive planet Rlaru. As they sent a troupe to visit Earth, so will she bring some of Earth's finest music to their planet. In preparation for this she gathers an exclusive selection of singers and musicians, she brings the world's foremost musicologist aboard the good ship Phoebus, and sets off to Rlaru with missionary zeal. On the way they will of course stop to educate other alien races on the magnificence of Earth's musical accomplishments. The success of the undertaking is… complicated.

What Makes Something High Art?

Our cast of protagonists begin their journey with a very well defined and well researched mindset. The first few chapters of "Space Opera" are lousy with musical terms, phrases and theories that are absolutely esoteric for general audiences. Intentionally, Vance is setting up a practically aristocratic 19th century approach to how culture should be defined: if a culture's art is too accessible, then it's not sophisticated. If it's not sophisticated, then it's inferior.

Exclusivity is a prime ingredient to make a culture great in their eyes. Exclusivity of musical theory, exclusivity of musical venues, exclusivity of the language of music (in this case favoritism of German and French language operas on Dame Isabel's expedition), everything about an advanced musical sensibility in a culture should speak to exclusivity. Which of course also translates to the most desirable audience being comprised solely of wealthy patrons. The favored company of Dame Isabel is academic specialists, and the audiences she most voraciously seeks at each stop along her tour are the alien societies' elite.

The best parts of Vance's story are when these very human expectations are subverted. On Sirius the company is unable to make sufficient adjustments for the cultural norms of the native population and the performance fails spectacularly. On Zade they are vetted by a native music critic who mirror's Earth's own narrow minded music specialists. He judges the performance of Dame Isabel's troupe by applying his own culture's standards against Earth's operas, and finding them deficient dismisses them and then asks for monetary compensation for his time. On Skylark the troupe finds that just because the people planet-side express appreciation for operatic craft does not mean that such appreciation is meant truthfully – it turns out that their attempts to keep Dame Isabel's people on for more performances is just so that the convict population can begin switching out the crew's musicians for physically altered convicts with comparable musical proficiency.

Music's Greatest Power

The emotional resonances of music are the pinnacle of Vance's exploration of music's power. On Yan, Earth's operas are interpreted to represent that which has been lost by the planet's people. The response is one of violence from the spectral remnants of the native population. On fabled Rlaru, Earth's operas are too dry for the natives to become interested in. Their culture already achieved the highest levels of artistic perfection, so seeing another people's comparatively primitive attempt at high art is boring and uninspired. However, a passionate performance held in back of the ship by a ragtag, informal group of the performers draws a massive, appreciative crowd.

"Space Opera" is a novel of massive potential, but Vance tries to compress the issue of human beings' cultural superiority complex in too short a time. The setup is exceptional. We know exactly where Dame Isabel, Roger Wool, and Bernard Bickel are coming from in terms of background, personality, and motivation. They go through a harrowing ordeal in the process of reaching Rlaru, and their time on Rlaru is extremely memorable. The fall of the plot is that there is not sufficient time given for the characters to reflect on their experiences. Because of this "Space Opera" ultimately falls short on its final satirical delivery.

Dame Isabel, the character whom I would argue is the central protagonist of the story, concludes her expedition to spread Earth's "highest" cultural medium by returning to Earth and holding a brief press conference reflecting on her and the crew's experiences. She starts the story as an elitist and remains one by the end of the novella. Roger Wool, her bumbling nephew, returns to Earth with his on-again, off-again fiance Madoc Roswyn, and some vague promise of a forthcoming book about the Phoebus' adventure. He begins as the naive, clueless, kept relative of Dame Isabel, and concludes the story as such.

The one character who has the largest arc was Bernard Bickel, Earth's premier musicologist. Despite being relegated to the role of a world building tool and Dame Isabel's consultant, his dialogue in the last few pages at least hints at growth. At the press conference mentioned earlier he comments in a round about way that the expedition gave him an appreciation for the varied reactions Earth's music got on the different planets they visited. But the story's detachment to his experiences relegates any development of his character, and more importantly what he represents, to the background.

At the best he seems like an anthropologist accompanying an invading fleet. Along the way he watches the Earth musical missionaries meet disaster after disaster on their blind quest to prove humanity's superior grasp of music. At worst he could be seen as a character who should have been the primary protagonist, but was swept under the ornate, oriental rug of Dame Isabel's sponsorship and her nephew's charming fumbling.

The Curtain Call

"Space Opera"'s concept would make a great full length novel. But as nearly a novella, it's just doesn't go deep enough. I thoroughly believe that Vance has something really special here, but unless he expands the story in the future it's a piece that will fade into the background of science fiction in time. Perhaps Vance will come to see "Space Opera" as a practice piece for writing satire, but as it stands right now it's merely a three star story.

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction