Scan barcode
hunziker's review against another edition
funny
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
dee9401's review against another edition
1.0
I read the Colossus trilogy back in the 80s. I remember enjoying it and really liking the film version of the first book, entitled "Colossus: The Forbin Project." Over time, I lost or gave away my copies of these books. When I was in Cali early this year, I picked up a paperback of the first book from Logos, an excellent indie book store in Santa Cruz. I got around to reading the book about a week ago. I didn't enjoy the re-reading and I'm amazed at the casual racism and overt/covert sexism in the book.
On racism, it comes out only a few times and while it is subtle, it is forceful. I never saw it the first time I read it, but then again, as a white male adolescent, I doubt I would have seen anything wrong. Five reporters are called in for a press conference at the beginning of the book. When the author introduces the reporters, the ones from England, France, Russia and the US were all excellent, top of their field and game. Of the Pan Afric's representative, he says "M'taka was a good, solid reporter, but outclassed by the rest" (p. 19). During the course of the reporters asking questions, M'taka never asks one nor is he asked to by anyone. Further, the author writes, "M'taka rubbed his fuzzy white pate and wished he had studied science instead of the humanities."
Reading it now, it seems far from subtle, but flying over those words while reading the book as a young mind, one might just incorporate such prejudices into their own memory banks. He is an African, with a name that points out he's not a white African. He is not as good as his colleagues in journalism. Nor is he competent to cover the current press conference as he has no science background. On another level, there's also the common practice, still happening in the 21st century, of portraying Africa as a monolithic entity. Some Americans even think it's just one country.
As for the sexism, it's much more in your face and constant. One might argue that some of it is a result of the time the book was written (1966) and the author's age at the time (~ 49). However, throughout the opening of the book, the author stresses how women in the world the book creates are now first-class citizens and have thrown off the sexism and roles of the past. They ae now equal with men. Having set such a stage, the author goes on to portray these women as girls, second-class people, servants who fetch coffee and make food. They are often weakened physically and mentally by their emotions and actively seek out men to steel themselves.
Outside of dialogue, every male characters is referenced by his last name. The two women characters are always called by their first names. Forbin, the main male characters, is never called Charles by the author, but always Forbin or Professor. Cleo is never Dr. Markham or Markham. Angela, Forbin's secretary, isn't even given a last name. Using just a first name makes sense in dialogue, that's the way people often speak, especially with close colleagues. But the author has a higher responsibility, I think. It shows a lack of respect and a casual familiarity with the female characters that places them noticeably below the male counterparts.
On a individual level, women are barely more than cardboard stereotypes. Angela, the last name-less secretary will flirt with everyone but secretly desires her male boss. Dr. Cleo Markham, once a peer of the main character, is deferential to her boss and considers her looks more often than her work. In the course of the story, she is demoted so that she may act undercover as the main character's mistress. The author's reasoning for this demotion is weak yet implied. For her to be a mistress, she couldn't be an equal, so she's demoted. She accepts this willing and without question, as if this is the way of the world. It might be for the author but it's just sad for this reader. Further, to cement it, throughout the rest of the story, she turns catty toward Angela and secretly rejoices about finally "getting her man." As for getting her man, when she is placed into stressful situations, she turns to her thoughts of love and soft issues while her man remains, no pun intended, hard and focused. Finally, when describing the emergent behavior of the Colossus system, Forbin describes it as "complex, possibly devious, almost feminine" (p. 77). For this, I just shook my head and scribbled down WTF.
I guess I should say one good thing about the book. In an section about 1/3 of the way through the novel, the author takes a wonderful swipe at Muzak. "At one time there had been piped music, but the nationwide revulsion a few years before had not missed the Secure Zone, and there had been unanimous relief when the system was ripped out" (p. 73).
This sci-fi book was like so many I read as a kid. I wonder how many of them included such references that put down anyone other than white men, who also made up the preponderance of published science fiction writers. In the last few years, I've read several articles and reviews from contemporary writers about these issues and was glad to have been able to see if for myself. I loved science fiction for expanding my horizons and offering a way to critique contemporary society by hiding its analysis in different times and on different worlds. Sadly, Colossus wasn't a critique but a confirmation of the world then, and to be honest, now.
On racism, it comes out only a few times and while it is subtle, it is forceful. I never saw it the first time I read it, but then again, as a white male adolescent, I doubt I would have seen anything wrong. Five reporters are called in for a press conference at the beginning of the book. When the author introduces the reporters, the ones from England, France, Russia and the US were all excellent, top of their field and game. Of the Pan Afric's representative, he says "M'taka was a good, solid reporter, but outclassed by the rest" (p. 19). During the course of the reporters asking questions, M'taka never asks one nor is he asked to by anyone. Further, the author writes, "M'taka rubbed his fuzzy white pate and wished he had studied science instead of the humanities."
Reading it now, it seems far from subtle, but flying over those words while reading the book as a young mind, one might just incorporate such prejudices into their own memory banks. He is an African, with a name that points out he's not a white African. He is not as good as his colleagues in journalism. Nor is he competent to cover the current press conference as he has no science background. On another level, there's also the common practice, still happening in the 21st century, of portraying Africa as a monolithic entity. Some Americans even think it's just one country.
As for the sexism, it's much more in your face and constant. One might argue that some of it is a result of the time the book was written (1966) and the author's age at the time (~ 49). However, throughout the opening of the book, the author stresses how women in the world the book creates are now first-class citizens and have thrown off the sexism and roles of the past. They ae now equal with men. Having set such a stage, the author goes on to portray these women as girls, second-class people, servants who fetch coffee and make food. They are often weakened physically and mentally by their emotions and actively seek out men to steel themselves.
Outside of dialogue, every male characters is referenced by his last name. The two women characters are always called by their first names. Forbin, the main male characters, is never called Charles by the author, but always Forbin or Professor. Cleo is never Dr. Markham or Markham. Angela, Forbin's secretary, isn't even given a last name. Using just a first name makes sense in dialogue, that's the way people often speak, especially with close colleagues. But the author has a higher responsibility, I think. It shows a lack of respect and a casual familiarity with the female characters that places them noticeably below the male counterparts.
On a individual level, women are barely more than cardboard stereotypes. Angela, the last name-less secretary will flirt with everyone but secretly desires her male boss. Dr. Cleo Markham, once a peer of the main character, is deferential to her boss and considers her looks more often than her work. In the course of the story, she is demoted so that she may act undercover as the main character's mistress. The author's reasoning for this demotion is weak yet implied. For her to be a mistress, she couldn't be an equal, so she's demoted. She accepts this willing and without question, as if this is the way of the world. It might be for the author but it's just sad for this reader. Further, to cement it, throughout the rest of the story, she turns catty toward Angela and secretly rejoices about finally "getting her man." As for getting her man, when she is placed into stressful situations, she turns to her thoughts of love and soft issues while her man remains, no pun intended, hard and focused. Finally, when describing the emergent behavior of the Colossus system, Forbin describes it as "complex, possibly devious, almost feminine" (p. 77). For this, I just shook my head and scribbled down WTF.
I guess I should say one good thing about the book. In an section about 1/3 of the way through the novel, the author takes a wonderful swipe at Muzak. "At one time there had been piped music, but the nationwide revulsion a few years before had not missed the Secure Zone, and there had been unanimous relief when the system was ripped out" (p. 73).
This sci-fi book was like so many I read as a kid. I wonder how many of them included such references that put down anyone other than white men, who also made up the preponderance of published science fiction writers. In the last few years, I've read several articles and reviews from contemporary writers about these issues and was glad to have been able to see if for myself. I loved science fiction for expanding my horizons and offering a way to critique contemporary society by hiding its analysis in different times and on different worlds. Sadly, Colossus wasn't a critique but a confirmation of the world then, and to be honest, now.
pitosalas's review against another edition
5.0
Classic sci-fi book about a computer gone crazy. Pleasantly dated and yet a very good read. I enjoyed it. I am reading the sequel right now!
katos's review against another edition
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
keary's review against another edition
4.0
A thought inspiring book. Not a great masterpiece as a literary work, but it sure makes you think.
I will read the next one shortly.
I will read the next one shortly.
markyon's review
3.0
In a near-future world, the United States of North America (USNA) has spent ten years planning and building an impregnable ‘supercomputer’ named Colossus. Designed – some might say created – by ‘superscientist’ Charles Forbin, the computer has been built with one major objective – to make those difficult globe-changing decisions on behalf of the President of the USNA.
By allowing a computer to decide key actions, the world is a safer place. Being able to assimilate more data faster than any human, Colossus can be trusted to make decisions about the USNA’s defences in real time, unemotionally, and as based on as full a picture as possible. By making the right decisions for the nation, it is hoped that Colossus frees up the potential of the world’s greatest superpower by having to spend less on an army and its resources and thus more on its own welfare and progress.
“It shows no fear, no hate, no envy. It cannot act in a sudden fit of temper. Above all it cannot act at all as long as there is no threat.”
When switched on, Colossus soon begins to show a remarkable intelligence. It soon learns to think independently of Forbin’s Colossus Programming Office, with whom it connects by teletype.
To everyone’s surprise, Colossus soon announces that there is another computer like itself – Guardian, built by the USSR – and asks to communicate with it. The two computers pass information between them quickly and soon begin to develop mathematics beyond the realms of Man’s own scientific knowledge. Between them they also begin to make decisions that are logical yet horrifying, that have consequences for the whole world. The rest of the book deals with how Forbin is forced to assist and whether he and his team can stop Colossus and Guardian before it is too late.
So: published in 1966, Colossus is a story that uses many of the fears of its time to dramatic effect. It is a story set in a Cold War scenario, though not necessarily our world. However, like many books of its time Colossus begins in optimism, with that knowing feeling that science has made our lives easier and better than ever before, before turning into a Michael Crichton-esque tale (see also Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain, as another example of that time) of technology gone wrong.
Like John Wyndham’s ‘cosy catastrophes’ of The Day of the Triffids and The Midwich Cuckoos, Colossus examines a future possibility and generally doesn’t like what it sees.
This is further personified by the role of ‘The Supreme Scientist’ – played to perfection by Eric Braeden in the movie Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970) – using Science to create a better world for humans. Forbin is the epitome of this – he is cool, measured and calculating – not quite emotionless, but rarely hysterical. It is Forbin who becomes the interface between Colossus and humans, superceding all politicians. Whilst important, if not essential, as the link between Colossus and the President of the USNA, this is a role Forbin comes to hate. Here the book is at first written in the third-person perspective, we get to know more about what Forbin feels and thinks. Unlike his celluloid counterpart, there are emotions there but deeper than we would see. Here the scientist finds himself in a situation of his making but eventually out of his control.
Ultimately then it is a tale of man versus machine, of human intelligence versus artificial intelligence, told with increasing tension and at a cracking pace.
For a book nearly fifty years old it exhibits the strengths and weaknesses of a book of this age. The prose is typical of its time – there’s a little bit of info-dumping in places to explain things that would have been novel in 1966 but part of everyday life in 2015. The description of remote garage doors operating in the secure compound of the USNA President’s enclosure at the beginning may have seemed a tad ‘James Bond’ in the sixties but now seems quite mundane.
In addition, some of the initial setup is a little weak – the creation of Colossus seems plausible, yet I couldn’t help feeling that the people were too trusting. These days, in perhaps a more cynical age, years of testing and numerous safeguards would be built into the system, though the reasons why they are not – it would make Colossus vulnerable – are plausible, but not great.
And then there’s the big question – would the world powers accept rule by a man-made machine, for the greater good? I doubt it myself, but it is certainly an intriguing proposition which the author exposits to good effect.
As perhaps to be expected, the book also shows an emphasis on USNA-USSR relationships, with some but relatively little mention of China, Japan, India, Europe or other countries. In a more globalised world of 2015 then some of these may also have a bigger part to play, but at least by focussing on the two main powers the story is tight and easily followed.
Perhaps the biggest issue is that there are developments in technology now unanticipated by Jones. Much of the communication between Colossus & Forbin is initially through teletype, for example, whereas these days I guess it would be just online. Colossus itself, I expect, would be more damaging as part of the online web than as a physical entity.
As a text from the 1960’s I was expecting the characterisation to be rather crude if not stereotyped. And it is, rather – there’s lots of manly drinking, smoking and pipe smoking on the part of the (predominantly male) scientists here. I was, however, pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of a key female character, Cleo, in this – not typical for the times, as a computer programmer who acts as a liaison for Forbin when he is under constant scrutiny by Colossus. Sadly, at the same time the initial promise of this character soon devolves into the cliché of its times. Whilst not entirely subservient, Cleo does rather end up as a useful but limited character.
Unlike the movie, where things are implied but never really addressed, I was quite surprised by the comments about sex and sexuality, which suggest a freer, more liberal approach at least on the surface. Nothing is too graphic, but it is an important aid to the plot, and shows us a facet of Forbin’s character that is both endearing and yet also wincingly embarrassing.
What still works is the main philosophical issues. Whilst we might quibble at some of the details of its origin and development, when Colossus is up and running it is scarily relevant. The book raises issues of surveillance and dominance that are still prevalent today. Some parts are astonishingly prescient. How much observation is too much? What would happen when the artificial intelligence reaches the moment of self-awareness and independence? Are we less human as a result of being manipulated by a machine?
These books have been long out of print in the UK. Second-hand copies can be obtained but they are not cheap. But now, (rather ironically), thanks to the intervention of the Kindle machine, I got copies of Colossus and its two even rarer sequels for a few pounds. Marvellous. (Perhaps this is part of the plan… Hmm.)
Colossus is a fascinating tale of the ‘what-if’. Steeped in 1960’s paranoia and the Cold-War espionage, for those wanting a certain thriller-vibe, it’s a fast-paced, scarily prophetic read. I enjoyed it much more than I think I should’ve.
By allowing a computer to decide key actions, the world is a safer place. Being able to assimilate more data faster than any human, Colossus can be trusted to make decisions about the USNA’s defences in real time, unemotionally, and as based on as full a picture as possible. By making the right decisions for the nation, it is hoped that Colossus frees up the potential of the world’s greatest superpower by having to spend less on an army and its resources and thus more on its own welfare and progress.
“It shows no fear, no hate, no envy. It cannot act in a sudden fit of temper. Above all it cannot act at all as long as there is no threat.”
When switched on, Colossus soon begins to show a remarkable intelligence. It soon learns to think independently of Forbin’s Colossus Programming Office, with whom it connects by teletype.
To everyone’s surprise, Colossus soon announces that there is another computer like itself – Guardian, built by the USSR – and asks to communicate with it. The two computers pass information between them quickly and soon begin to develop mathematics beyond the realms of Man’s own scientific knowledge. Between them they also begin to make decisions that are logical yet horrifying, that have consequences for the whole world. The rest of the book deals with how Forbin is forced to assist and whether he and his team can stop Colossus and Guardian before it is too late.
So: published in 1966, Colossus is a story that uses many of the fears of its time to dramatic effect. It is a story set in a Cold War scenario, though not necessarily our world. However, like many books of its time Colossus begins in optimism, with that knowing feeling that science has made our lives easier and better than ever before, before turning into a Michael Crichton-esque tale (see also Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain, as another example of that time) of technology gone wrong.
Like John Wyndham’s ‘cosy catastrophes’ of The Day of the Triffids and The Midwich Cuckoos, Colossus examines a future possibility and generally doesn’t like what it sees.
This is further personified by the role of ‘The Supreme Scientist’ – played to perfection by Eric Braeden in the movie Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970) – using Science to create a better world for humans. Forbin is the epitome of this – he is cool, measured and calculating – not quite emotionless, but rarely hysterical. It is Forbin who becomes the interface between Colossus and humans, superceding all politicians. Whilst important, if not essential, as the link between Colossus and the President of the USNA, this is a role Forbin comes to hate. Here the book is at first written in the third-person perspective, we get to know more about what Forbin feels and thinks. Unlike his celluloid counterpart, there are emotions there but deeper than we would see. Here the scientist finds himself in a situation of his making but eventually out of his control.
Ultimately then it is a tale of man versus machine, of human intelligence versus artificial intelligence, told with increasing tension and at a cracking pace.
For a book nearly fifty years old it exhibits the strengths and weaknesses of a book of this age. The prose is typical of its time – there’s a little bit of info-dumping in places to explain things that would have been novel in 1966 but part of everyday life in 2015. The description of remote garage doors operating in the secure compound of the USNA President’s enclosure at the beginning may have seemed a tad ‘James Bond’ in the sixties but now seems quite mundane.
In addition, some of the initial setup is a little weak – the creation of Colossus seems plausible, yet I couldn’t help feeling that the people were too trusting. These days, in perhaps a more cynical age, years of testing and numerous safeguards would be built into the system, though the reasons why they are not – it would make Colossus vulnerable – are plausible, but not great.
And then there’s the big question – would the world powers accept rule by a man-made machine, for the greater good? I doubt it myself, but it is certainly an intriguing proposition which the author exposits to good effect.
As perhaps to be expected, the book also shows an emphasis on USNA-USSR relationships, with some but relatively little mention of China, Japan, India, Europe or other countries. In a more globalised world of 2015 then some of these may also have a bigger part to play, but at least by focussing on the two main powers the story is tight and easily followed.
Perhaps the biggest issue is that there are developments in technology now unanticipated by Jones. Much of the communication between Colossus & Forbin is initially through teletype, for example, whereas these days I guess it would be just online. Colossus itself, I expect, would be more damaging as part of the online web than as a physical entity.
As a text from the 1960’s I was expecting the characterisation to be rather crude if not stereotyped. And it is, rather – there’s lots of manly drinking, smoking and pipe smoking on the part of the (predominantly male) scientists here. I was, however, pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of a key female character, Cleo, in this – not typical for the times, as a computer programmer who acts as a liaison for Forbin when he is under constant scrutiny by Colossus. Sadly, at the same time the initial promise of this character soon devolves into the cliché of its times. Whilst not entirely subservient, Cleo does rather end up as a useful but limited character.
Unlike the movie, where things are implied but never really addressed, I was quite surprised by the comments about sex and sexuality, which suggest a freer, more liberal approach at least on the surface. Nothing is too graphic, but it is an important aid to the plot, and shows us a facet of Forbin’s character that is both endearing and yet also wincingly embarrassing.
What still works is the main philosophical issues. Whilst we might quibble at some of the details of its origin and development, when Colossus is up and running it is scarily relevant. The book raises issues of surveillance and dominance that are still prevalent today. Some parts are astonishingly prescient. How much observation is too much? What would happen when the artificial intelligence reaches the moment of self-awareness and independence? Are we less human as a result of being manipulated by a machine?
These books have been long out of print in the UK. Second-hand copies can be obtained but they are not cheap. But now, (rather ironically), thanks to the intervention of the Kindle machine, I got copies of Colossus and its two even rarer sequels for a few pounds. Marvellous. (Perhaps this is part of the plan… Hmm.)
Colossus is a fascinating tale of the ‘what-if’. Steeped in 1960’s paranoia and the Cold-War espionage, for those wanting a certain thriller-vibe, it’s a fast-paced, scarily prophetic read. I enjoyed it much more than I think I should’ve.
keary's review
4.0
A thought inspiring book. Not a great masterpiece as a literary work, but it sure makes you think.
I will read the next one shortly.
I will read the next one shortly.
keary's review against another edition
4.0
A thought inspiring book. Not a great masterpiece as a literary work, but it sure makes you think.
I will read the next one shortly.
I will read the next one shortly.
greenteadragon's review
adventurous
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Diverse cast of characters? No
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death and Panic attacks/disorders
Minor: Alcohol, Gun violence, Genocide, Sexual content, Suicide, and Slavery
gerd_d's review
4.0
By todays standards the pre-internet Colossus must seem a more toothless beast, oddly limited in his powers. Technological the novel is helplessly dated, given that it is supposed to play just before or around the early 21st century by all accounts (Tunguska is referred to as has happend a bit over ninety years ago).
But Jones' narrative holds up remarkably well; often driven solely by long dialogue passages it reads at times more like a pitch for a movie script than a novel, yet it captures the reader from the start and keeps up pace.
But Jones' narrative holds up remarkably well; often driven solely by long dialogue passages it reads at times more like a pitch for a movie script than a novel, yet it captures the reader from the start and keeps up pace.