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3.85 AVERAGE
3.85 AVERAGE
Miercuri trecu în fugă pe culoarele întunecoase ale staţiei, inima bătându-i cu putere. În urma ei, nevăzut şi totuşi simţit ca o prezenţă ameninţătoare, alerga urmăritorul său neobosit – un câine. Dulăul nu trebuia să fie aici: şi nici ea. Newfoundland Patru se afla în proces de evacuare, ultima navă trebuia să-şi fi luat zborul din staţia terminus verde cu paisprezece minute în urmă – ea vedea acest lucru printr-un icon tatuat în interiorul ochiului său stâng care cronometra descrescător timpul – şi să se îndrepte către cel mai apropiat continuum spaţio-temporal plat pentru a efectua un salt spre un loc sigur. Graficul lansării nu ţinea cont de adolescenţi fugari, de căpitani nebuni din Dresda cu ordine secrete şi de câini gestapo însetaţi să ucidă. Gâfâia cu disperare, cu nervii la pământ şi cu plămânii arzând în aerul rarefiat şi stătut. Avea şaisprezece ani, şi dacă nu găsea o metodă să scape de câine şi să-şi croiască drum înapoi la docurile staţiei…
Ea nu voia să fie acolo când unda de şoc avea să sosească.
La 3,6 ani lumină depărtare şi cu aproape 3,6 ani în urmă, cele două sute de milioane de locuitori ai unei McLumi greu de definit numită Moscova, muriseră. Moscova, un stat introvertit dacă nu în întregime rural, fusese în mijlocul unor mari schimbări politice şi a unei dispute de comerţ meschine cu Noua Dresda, ceva plictisitor legat de controlul biodiversităţii şi de comerţul liber. Old Newfoundland Patru, Staţia Portal Unsprezece, era ultimul teritoriu suveran al Republicii Federale Moscova. Au dat jos steagul în spaţiul central public în urmă cu patru ore, au dat ultimul semnal de retragere printr-un trâmbiţat final al instrumentelor de alamă şi au mărşăluit încet spre docuri. Jocul luase sfârşit, naţiunea era dizolvată. Fusese o neînţelegere, iar navele de război din Dresda sechestraseră un cargou din Moscova. Focuri de armă descărcate de-a lungul şi de-a latul docurilor aglomerate. Apoi cineva a lovit Moscova Primă cu o armă interzisă, deşi până în ziua de astăzi guvernul succesor din Dresda a negat vehement că ar fi responsabil de aşa ceva.
Miercuri nu îşi aducea aminte de Moscova foarte clar. Tatăl ei era un inginer specializat în ciclul azotului, mama sa o specialistă în ecologia protozoarelor: trăiau pe staţie de când ea avea patru ani, făcând parte din echipa însărcinată cu întreţinerea vieţii, a inimii complexului orbital uriaş care pulsa. Dar acum, această inimă era nemişcată. Nu mai avea niciun rost să se mai prefacă. În mai puţin de o zi, valul de şoc al rugului funerar al Moscovei Prime avea să treacă tumultos, distrugând orice habitat care nu avea un zid protector de mai bine de treizeci de metri de metal şi piatră. Bătrâna Newfie, plutind în derivă pe orbita unei stele pitice maronii lipsită de planete, era pur şi simplu prea mare şi prea şubredă să suporte o furtună supernova la un interval de puţin peste un parsec.
Ea nu voia să fie acolo când unda de şoc avea să sosească.
La 3,6 ani lumină depărtare şi cu aproape 3,6 ani în urmă, cele două sute de milioane de locuitori ai unei McLumi greu de definit numită Moscova, muriseră. Moscova, un stat introvertit dacă nu în întregime rural, fusese în mijlocul unor mari schimbări politice şi a unei dispute de comerţ meschine cu Noua Dresda, ceva plictisitor legat de controlul biodiversităţii şi de comerţul liber. Old Newfoundland Patru, Staţia Portal Unsprezece, era ultimul teritoriu suveran al Republicii Federale Moscova. Au dat jos steagul în spaţiul central public în urmă cu patru ore, au dat ultimul semnal de retragere printr-un trâmbiţat final al instrumentelor de alamă şi au mărşăluit încet spre docuri. Jocul luase sfârşit, naţiunea era dizolvată. Fusese o neînţelegere, iar navele de război din Dresda sechestraseră un cargou din Moscova. Focuri de armă descărcate de-a lungul şi de-a latul docurilor aglomerate. Apoi cineva a lovit Moscova Primă cu o armă interzisă, deşi până în ziua de astăzi guvernul succesor din Dresda a negat vehement că ar fi responsabil de aşa ceva.
Miercuri nu îşi aducea aminte de Moscova foarte clar. Tatăl ei era un inginer specializat în ciclul azotului, mama sa o specialistă în ecologia protozoarelor: trăiau pe staţie de când ea avea patru ani, făcând parte din echipa însărcinată cu întreţinerea vieţii, a inimii complexului orbital uriaş care pulsa. Dar acum, această inimă era nemişcată. Nu mai avea niciun rost să se mai prefacă. În mai puţin de o zi, valul de şoc al rugului funerar al Moscovei Prime avea să treacă tumultos, distrugând orice habitat care nu avea un zid protector de mai bine de treizeci de metri de metal şi piatră. Bătrâna Newfie, plutind în derivă pe orbita unei stele pitice maronii lipsită de planete, era pur şi simplu prea mare şi prea şubredă să suporte o furtună supernova la un interval de puţin peste un parsec.
This book is a lot of fun. On the surface it's the tale of a goth girl on the run from space Nazis, but in the usual Stross style there's layers of intrigue mixed in. I really enjoy the setting for these two books, and how Stross set up his galactic colonization.
This book is in the category of post-singularity stories that a lot of people call "hard" sci fi, presumably because it throws around a lot of science jargon to explain the technology. But really, by the time you have faster-than-light travel, instantaneous communication between star systems, omnipresent and omniscient AIs, and fab devices capable of manufacturing anything in minutes, it doesn't really matter whether they're explained away using some attempt at extrapolated science, or just plain old magic or wishful thinking.
The writing style is very fragmented, in a generally good way. The viewpoints bounce between half a dozen story lines that don't intersect for quite a while, with most of the characters having no idea of the larger context in which they're moving. The reader isn't much better off. This sort of off-balance perspective is great for creating tension and driving the narrative. But it suffers when the author is a little prone to inconsistent plot details. For example, the characters are scared of summary execution if they use superluminal technology to create paradoxes... but they routinely use FTL communication and travel with no comment. Is this one of the unresolved conflicts that is driving the plot? Nope, it's just sloppy writing. The time stamps on Wednesday's escapades in the first section are somewhat contradictory... is this a subtle clue? No, just insufficient attention to detail by the author. There seem to be inconsistencies about how many keys are needed to call off the doomsday weapon. Did I miss something? No, the editor did.
The characters didn't hold my attention as much as the plot, unfortunately. Rather than a single protagonist, there are a handful of good guys. Some are reasonably drawn, but some (notably Wednesday) are not really likable enough to carry their story lines. The bad guys are mostly buffonish caricatures.
On the good side, though, the writing is brisk and entertaining, for the most part. There are some nifty extrapolations of futuristic toys, technology, and societies. Stross certainly doesn't have any shortage of clever new ideas. So the book is entertaining enough, it's just flawed by some defects that will bother you, or not, in proportion to how realistic you expect your interstellar chase scenes to be.
The writing style is very fragmented, in a generally good way. The viewpoints bounce between half a dozen story lines that don't intersect for quite a while, with most of the characters having no idea of the larger context in which they're moving. The reader isn't much better off. This sort of off-balance perspective is great for creating tension and driving the narrative. But it suffers when the author is a little prone to inconsistent plot details. For example, the characters are scared of summary execution if they use superluminal technology to create paradoxes... but they routinely use FTL communication and travel with no comment. Is this one of the unresolved conflicts that is driving the plot? Nope, it's just sloppy writing. The time stamps on Wednesday's escapades in the first section are somewhat contradictory... is this a subtle clue? No, just insufficient attention to detail by the author. There seem to be inconsistencies about how many keys are needed to call off the doomsday weapon. Did I miss something? No, the editor did.
The characters didn't hold my attention as much as the plot, unfortunately. Rather than a single protagonist, there are a handful of good guys. Some are reasonably drawn, but some (notably Wednesday) are not really likable enough to carry their story lines. The bad guys are mostly buffonish caricatures.
On the good side, though, the writing is brisk and entertaining, for the most part. There are some nifty extrapolations of futuristic toys, technology, and societies. Stross certainly doesn't have any shortage of clever new ideas. So the book is entertaining enough, it's just flawed by some defects that will bother you, or not, in proportion to how realistic you expect your interstellar chase scenes to be.
J'avais gardé de [b:Crépuscule d'acier|81992|Singularity Sky|Charles Stross|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171011071s/81992.jpg|1192005] une excellente impression et c'est auréolé de ce premier tome fabuleux que j'avais choisi d'entamer le second tome des aventures de Rachel Mansour et Martin ... j'ai oublié son nom ... dans l'univers de l'Eschaton.
Dans cette histoire, au lieu d'une civilisation post-singularité, nos héros affrontent donc une bande de pseudo-terroristes relevant d'une civilisation eugéniste et gravement expansionniste. Est-ce que ça va de pair ? Aucune idée. Toujours est-il que la description de ces crétins eugénistes fait malheureusement penser à nos aryens du passé. Et, d'une manière tout aussi malheureuse, je trouve dommage que l'auteur, après avoir réussi un coup fabuleux avec son Festival rempli d'usines à cuillères en plastique explosives, ait choisi de revenir à une trame de récit plus "classique". Bien sûr, [a:Stross|8794|Charles Stross|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1218218373p2/8794.jpg] est suffisamment malin pour broder de ce récit avec beaucoup de finesse, et aussi avec pas mal d'imprévus bien pensés. Néanmoins, comme j'ai compris assez rapidement où il voulait en venir, j'ai trouvé sa façon de construire les aventures de nos éros d'une manière un peu trop ... ampoulée, peut-être.
Néanmoins, néanmoins, il ne faut pas jeter le bébé avec l'eau du bain. Si la trame principale est peut-être un peu conventionnelle, l'univers de l'Eschaton est très bien décrit, d'une grande puissance d'évocation et remplie d'images toujours saisissantes. Des images, d'ailleurs, qui m'ont beaucoup plus fait penser dans ce second tome à l'univers de la Culture. Et c'est peut-être, à mon sens, la plus grande force de ce second tome : grâce à un récit plus classique, et plus centré sur l'univers connu, l'auteur a pu se pencher de manière bien plus détaillée sur la société de l'Eschaton, et les implications de plusieurs des éléments constitutifs du récit, comme l'éparpillement de l'humanité à travers la galaxie, les cornucopia, et la cybernétisation de plus en plus intensive. Et ce dernier élément, en particulier, couplé avec l'allongement de l'espérance de vie, m'a beaucoup rappelé la Culture. En effet, dans les deux cas, la mise en réseau universelle et l'accès à des ressources ubiquitaires a nettement détaché les humains de cette époque de notre humanité. Et ces humains du futur sont fascinants.
Bref, un récit plutôt moyen (bon, enfin, pas mauvais non plus, hein, certains rebondissements sont bien trouvés), mais placé dans un décor assez fascinant, avec qui plus est des personnages centraux plutôt attachants (je ne parle pas de la quasi nécessaire adolescente, mais plutôt de nos amis de l'ONU) et qui fait quand même son petit effet. Lisez-le si vous le voulez, c'est quand même bien.
Dans cette histoire, au lieu d'une civilisation post-singularité, nos héros affrontent donc une bande de pseudo-terroristes relevant d'une civilisation eugéniste et gravement expansionniste. Est-ce que ça va de pair ? Aucune idée. Toujours est-il que la description de ces crétins eugénistes fait malheureusement penser à nos aryens du passé. Et, d'une manière tout aussi malheureuse, je trouve dommage que l'auteur, après avoir réussi un coup fabuleux avec son Festival rempli d'usines à cuillères en plastique explosives, ait choisi de revenir à une trame de récit plus "classique". Bien sûr, [a:Stross|8794|Charles Stross|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1218218373p2/8794.jpg] est suffisamment malin pour broder de ce récit avec beaucoup de finesse, et aussi avec pas mal d'imprévus bien pensés. Néanmoins, comme j'ai compris assez rapidement où il voulait en venir, j'ai trouvé sa façon de construire les aventures de nos éros d'une manière un peu trop ... ampoulée, peut-être.
Néanmoins, néanmoins, il ne faut pas jeter le bébé avec l'eau du bain. Si la trame principale est peut-être un peu conventionnelle, l'univers de l'Eschaton est très bien décrit, d'une grande puissance d'évocation et remplie d'images toujours saisissantes. Des images, d'ailleurs, qui m'ont beaucoup plus fait penser dans ce second tome à l'univers de la Culture. Et c'est peut-être, à mon sens, la plus grande force de ce second tome : grâce à un récit plus classique, et plus centré sur l'univers connu, l'auteur a pu se pencher de manière bien plus détaillée sur la société de l'Eschaton, et les implications de plusieurs des éléments constitutifs du récit, comme l'éparpillement de l'humanité à travers la galaxie, les cornucopia, et la cybernétisation de plus en plus intensive. Et ce dernier élément, en particulier, couplé avec l'allongement de l'espérance de vie, m'a beaucoup rappelé la Culture. En effet, dans les deux cas, la mise en réseau universelle et l'accès à des ressources ubiquitaires a nettement détaché les humains de cette époque de notre humanité. Et ces humains du futur sont fascinants.
Bref, un récit plutôt moyen (bon, enfin, pas mauvais non plus, hein, certains rebondissements sont bien trouvés), mais placé dans un décor assez fascinant, avec qui plus est des personnages centraux plutôt attachants (je ne parle pas de la quasi nécessaire adolescente, mais plutôt de nos amis de l'ONU) et qui fait quand même son petit effet. Lisez-le si vous le voulez, c'est quand même bien.
adventurous
challenging
dark
tense
fast-paced
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Originally published on my blog here in June 2005.
I was distinctly underwhelmed by Stross' debut, [b:Singularity Sky|81992|Singularity Sky (Eschaton, #1)|Charles Stross|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347958595s/81992.jpg|1192005], even if it did suggest the kernel of some ideas about a mathematical theory of causality that I have been working on, on and off, since I read it. It had enough interest for me to pick up his next novel the Hugo-nominated Iron Sunrise, and I am glad I did. From the very first page it is clear that this is written to a far higher and more individual standard: Charles Stross has found his own voice.
The story has elements which resonate with the history of the science fiction genre and with current events. Pulp fiction space opera is full of "planet busters" and ultimate weapons; in the Lensman series by [a:E.E. "Doc" Smith|4477395|E.E. Smith|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1315184002p2/4477395.jpg], perhaps the best known example, these include pairs of planets placed so that they crash into the enemy home world, and worlds of antimatter which reduce a world to a handful of gravel. The human element is so played down that it is barely present; the destruction of evil is much more important than the human suffering of the innocent (something which is a literary parallel to the behaviour of the British and American governments in Iraq, where civilian deaths were not even counted). A similar event, the "iron sunrise" of the title, is the centrepiece of Stross' novel: a supernova induced by a "weapon of mass destruction" that destroys the planet of Moscow. Stross makes the human cost of such a war crime apparent - the short suffering and death of the inhabitants of Moscow, and the more lengthy problems faced on one of Moscow's colonies - taking a much more adult stance than the glib heroics of Smith.
The setting is the imaginary future that Stross invented for Singularity Sky, and the same agent is the central character of Iron Sunrise. Indeed, the weakest aspect of Iron Sunrise is the repetition of the exposition of the background from the earlier novel - by memory, it seems to be made up from paragraphs pasted across almost verbatim, which is not just astoundingly lazy but which fills the early chapters of Iron Sunrise with the kind of clumsy "infodump" rightly derided by detractors of the science fiction genre. There are enough good things about Stross' writing that he really could (and should) have found a more subtle way to do this (particularly since any readers of the earlier novel would know this); even an introduction describing Singularity Sky would have been better.
The infodump and super-weapons are not the only science fiction clichés to appear in Iron Sunrise. There is the independent adolescent of above average intelligence, a staple of the genre since the early days of Robert Heinlein (and one of the main reasons why science fiction fandom is associated with geeky teenagers). In this case, she is named Wednesday, in what is presumably a slightly quirky nod to Charles Addams, and she is one of the refugees from the Moscovite colony already mentioned. Then there are the apparent villains, those who are suggested to be the destroyers of Moscow: the ReMastered, who bear a strong resemblance to the T'leilaxu in Frank Herbert's [b:Dune|234225|Dune (Dune Chronicles, #1)|Frank Herbert|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1349105964s/234225.jpg|3634639] novels, or to any other science fictional elite who control the proletariat via conditioning: puppetmasters in a lineage going back to the dystopias of Orwell and Huxley. All of these, including the planetary destruction, are far better handled than the infodump, which is sufficiently poor and comes early enough in the novel to seriously impair the chances Iron Sunrise has of winning the Hugo. The nomination is in my opinion deserved - it is, after all, good enough to make me consider re-reading Singularity Sky.
I was distinctly underwhelmed by Stross' debut, [b:Singularity Sky|81992|Singularity Sky (Eschaton, #1)|Charles Stross|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347958595s/81992.jpg|1192005], even if it did suggest the kernel of some ideas about a mathematical theory of causality that I have been working on, on and off, since I read it. It had enough interest for me to pick up his next novel the Hugo-nominated Iron Sunrise, and I am glad I did. From the very first page it is clear that this is written to a far higher and more individual standard: Charles Stross has found his own voice.
The story has elements which resonate with the history of the science fiction genre and with current events. Pulp fiction space opera is full of "planet busters" and ultimate weapons; in the Lensman series by [a:E.E. "Doc" Smith|4477395|E.E. Smith|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1315184002p2/4477395.jpg], perhaps the best known example, these include pairs of planets placed so that they crash into the enemy home world, and worlds of antimatter which reduce a world to a handful of gravel. The human element is so played down that it is barely present; the destruction of evil is much more important than the human suffering of the innocent (something which is a literary parallel to the behaviour of the British and American governments in Iraq, where civilian deaths were not even counted). A similar event, the "iron sunrise" of the title, is the centrepiece of Stross' novel: a supernova induced by a "weapon of mass destruction" that destroys the planet of Moscow. Stross makes the human cost of such a war crime apparent - the short suffering and death of the inhabitants of Moscow, and the more lengthy problems faced on one of Moscow's colonies - taking a much more adult stance than the glib heroics of Smith.
The setting is the imaginary future that Stross invented for Singularity Sky, and the same agent is the central character of Iron Sunrise. Indeed, the weakest aspect of Iron Sunrise is the repetition of the exposition of the background from the earlier novel - by memory, it seems to be made up from paragraphs pasted across almost verbatim, which is not just astoundingly lazy but which fills the early chapters of Iron Sunrise with the kind of clumsy "infodump" rightly derided by detractors of the science fiction genre. There are enough good things about Stross' writing that he really could (and should) have found a more subtle way to do this (particularly since any readers of the earlier novel would know this); even an introduction describing Singularity Sky would have been better.
The infodump and super-weapons are not the only science fiction clichés to appear in Iron Sunrise. There is the independent adolescent of above average intelligence, a staple of the genre since the early days of Robert Heinlein (and one of the main reasons why science fiction fandom is associated with geeky teenagers). In this case, she is named Wednesday, in what is presumably a slightly quirky nod to Charles Addams, and she is one of the refugees from the Moscovite colony already mentioned. Then there are the apparent villains, those who are suggested to be the destroyers of Moscow: the ReMastered, who bear a strong resemblance to the T'leilaxu in Frank Herbert's [b:Dune|234225|Dune (Dune Chronicles, #1)|Frank Herbert|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1349105964s/234225.jpg|3634639] novels, or to any other science fictional elite who control the proletariat via conditioning: puppetmasters in a lineage going back to the dystopias of Orwell and Huxley. All of these, including the planetary destruction, are far better handled than the infodump, which is sufficiently poor and comes early enough in the novel to seriously impair the chances Iron Sunrise has of winning the Hugo. The nomination is in my opinion deserved - it is, after all, good enough to make me consider re-reading Singularity Sky.
My Amazon Review -
http://www.amazon.com/review/R19YFX5F3H5YU9/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm
http://www.amazon.com/review/R19YFX5F3H5YU9/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm
The second book in Stross's Eschaton universe, The Iron Sunrise is a fun sort of who-dun-it spy thriller in space.
Ultimately, this book was quite enjoyable, and hard to put down in the final few hundred pages. The title "iron sunrise" is an interesting weaponized nova generator; but is only part of the backdrop of the bulk of the story. It took me a while to figure out who everybody was; (there was some confusion between Frank and Franz in my mind), but once I finally started reading the book in big chunks rather than 10 minutes here or there, the characters started to gel better. (I guess I really like having "cast of characters" pages --- it really helps those readers (like me) who sometimes have to put a book down for a while).
There were a number of unanswered questions left by the book; my impression is that Stross is not finished exploring this universe, and has left himself some room for more stories.
Ultimately, this book was quite enjoyable, and hard to put down in the final few hundred pages. The title "iron sunrise" is an interesting weaponized nova generator; but is only part of the backdrop of the bulk of the story. It took me a while to figure out who everybody was; (there was some confusion between Frank and Franz in my mind), but once I finally started reading the book in big chunks rather than 10 minutes here or there, the characters started to gel better. (I guess I really like having "cast of characters" pages --- it really helps those readers (like me) who sometimes have to put a book down for a while).
There were a number of unanswered questions left by the book; my impression is that Stross is not finished exploring this universe, and has left himself some room for more stories.
The plot is good, the characters are bad caricatures.