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leadpal's review against another edition
adventurous
lighthearted
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
bhaines's review against another edition
Had a good time, some fun bits. Likes a hard cut into chapters
Sometimes gets a little poetic and but it's mostly jokes and he'll throw in a sentence like 'i felt the feelings' or trail off in an 'or things like that' so you know he's just having fun
Sometimes gets a little poetic and but it's mostly jokes and he'll throw in a sentence like 'i felt the feelings' or trail off in an 'or things like that' so you know he's just having fun
ashleylm's review against another edition
3.0
Readable, but not much more than that.
It was yet another book that would massively fail the Bechdel test. The few women almost entirely consisted of mention during narration/exposition, and the one who actually appeared for a scene did nothing but say something like "I'm all right," and every other person (even the aliens) presented as male. Yes, I get that it was a different time, but there are all sorts of books from those days (often written by women!) which gave equal voice to both sexes.
Rant out of the way, I found Zelazny's narrative approach intentionally confusing. He began every single chapter in media res, and you would confusedly wonder what you'd missed until eventually you'd meet up with the plot again. It didn't seem to serve any purpose, it didn't make the plot more excited (just more difficult to follow), and got old very fast.
Otherwise this would seem to be a pulp serial-inspired, fairly simple-minded romp/chase/adventure story, and I'm surprised it's considered a classic of sorts, or nominated for anything—especially so late as 1975 ... it feels like a 1950s book, no later.
Note: I have written a novel (not yet published), so now I will suffer pangs of guilt every time I offer less than five stars. In my subjective opinion, the stars suggest:
(5* = one of my all-time favourites, 4* = really enjoyed it, 3* = readable but not thrilling, 2* = actually disappointing, and 1* = hated it. As a statistician I know most books are 3s, but I am biased in my selection and end up mostly with 4s, thank goodness.)
It was yet another book that would massively fail the Bechdel test. The few women almost entirely consisted of mention during narration/exposition, and the one who actually appeared for a scene did nothing but say something like "I'm all right," and every other person (even the aliens) presented as male. Yes, I get that it was a different time, but there are all sorts of books from those days (often written by women!) which gave equal voice to both sexes.
Rant out of the way, I found Zelazny's narrative approach intentionally confusing. He began every single chapter in media res, and you would confusedly wonder what you'd missed until eventually you'd meet up with the plot again. It didn't seem to serve any purpose, it didn't make the plot more excited (just more difficult to follow), and got old very fast.
Otherwise this would seem to be a pulp serial-inspired, fairly simple-minded romp/chase/adventure story, and I'm surprised it's considered a classic of sorts, or nominated for anything—especially so late as 1975 ... it feels like a 1950s book, no later.
Note: I have written a novel (not yet published), so now I will suffer pangs of guilt every time I offer less than five stars. In my subjective opinion, the stars suggest:
(5* = one of my all-time favourites, 4* = really enjoyed it, 3* = readable but not thrilling, 2* = actually disappointing, and 1* = hated it. As a statistician I know most books are 3s, but I am biased in my selection and end up mostly with 4s, thank goodness.)
crowfood's review against another edition
3.0
Mixing mystery, comedy and sci-fi, Doorways was an enjoyable read.
Zelazny's characters are witty and their prose well written.
In tone it reminded me of Simak's whimsical "Goblin Reservation".
My search for more Zelazny works on par with "Lord of Light" goes on.
Zelazny's characters are witty and their prose well written.
In tone it reminded me of Simak's whimsical "Goblin Reservation".
My search for more Zelazny works on par with "Lord of Light" goes on.
fredkiesche's review against another edition
5.0
(Caveat on the eBook edition: I noticed a number of annoying typographical errors in the book. The conversion from pBook to eBook was not done as carefully as I had hoped!)
(This review was originally written by me in August 2009 and appeared on SF Signal. It was later cited on Wikipedia for their entry on this book.)
REVIEW SUMMARY: One of Zelazny's more standalone works that shows off his polished prose, humor and frantic pacing.
BRIEF SYNOPSIS: Fred Cassidy is doing his best to remain a student. However, after being robbed, staked out in the sun, "protected" by alien police and probed by an alien telepath, even graduating from college seems like a lesser evil.
MY REVIEW
PROS: An excellent display of Roger Zelazny's wordsmithing at its best. A mixture of polished prose, some literary experimentation, and a plot full of red herrings and MacGuffins worthy of an Alfred Hitchcock film.
CONS: Until Zelazny is recognized as a "literary" figure and gets enshrined on our shelves along with others (such as Philip K. Dick), you're probably going to have to scramble to find this and other gems.
BOTTOM LINE: In a single volume you get what was always the best about Roger Zelazny. The magic of the plot where you're never sure of what exactly is going on. The carefully chosen prose, honed down to the bare essentials. The occasional bit of literary experimentation. 181 pages, a single volume, no sequels, no padding, no fluff. Pure magic.
Fred Cassidy is doing his best to stay in school. Despite the efforts of multiple academic advisers (all of whom want to graduate him), he has managed to skip from major to major for thirteen years (he gets a stipend from his late Uncle Albert as long as he is not awarded a degree). But things get strange when one of his professors turns up to ransack his apartment and question him about a reproduction of an alien artifact known as the Star Stone. Fred goes Down Under and into the Outback to pursue a project for college only to be attacked and staked out in the sun to become a human raisin; he is "rescued" by two aliens (dressed as a wombat and a kangaroo) and taken into "protective" custody.
Not strange enough? How about the words he sees in the sky or in windows, or the voices that echo from dreams. Toss in the State Department, the United Nations, two alien telepaths that try to "help" (one is a cost accountant, so is not very good as a telepath), ex-academic advisers who turn up in odd places, friends of his uncle, associates of his uncle turned bad, more aliens, another alien artifact that can turn you inside out.
More? How about a predilection for climbing buildings. Reversed greasy-spoon hamburgers and fries that taste like the best meal you've eaten; reversed brandy that is the nectar of the gods. Cigarettes and booze, booze and cigarettes. An alien menace. A fight in the sky. A journey to the stars and the start of a new partnership.
And all this--I'll say again--in 180 pages.
There's something about writer's from a certain age--maybe it was using a typewriter and carbon paper or a need to get as much prose into the slicks, pulps and between the hard covers as possible or genetic imprinting from the old school--that caused them to write briefly but beautifully. Zelazny, like Arthur C. Clarke, Clifford D. Simak, and Alfred Bester packed a lot per page. Whereas somebody today would give you an infodump of several pages to explain how an alien object, for example, could reverse you, Zelazny tosses the idea off in a sentence or two, mixing it in with dozens of other bits and pieces throughout the book. Indeed, this book reminds me strongly of all those writers. Like Clarke, Zelazny packs more ideas into his pages than most other authors manage in the space of a career. Like Simak, he employs a sparse style and an economy of words as well as creating memorable aliens. Like Bester, he experiments with prose and typographical layout as well as making the ordinary extraordinary.
(This novel in particular reminds me of another genre craftsman: Spider Robinson, especially Robinson's tales of Callahan's Place. It would not have surprised me one bit to have Fred Cassidy, in visiting the several bars that appear in this book, stop in at Callahan's and tell of his story and find help from Jake and the others.)
I've lost track of the number of times I've read this book since I first read it as a serial in the pages of Analog in 1975. Every time I do read it, it manages to once again charm me, thrill me, and surprise me. As it did so again this evening, and as I hope it will do so for you.
(This review was originally written by me in August 2009 and appeared on SF Signal. It was later cited on Wikipedia for their entry on this book.)
REVIEW SUMMARY: One of Zelazny's more standalone works that shows off his polished prose, humor and frantic pacing.
BRIEF SYNOPSIS: Fred Cassidy is doing his best to remain a student. However, after being robbed, staked out in the sun, "protected" by alien police and probed by an alien telepath, even graduating from college seems like a lesser evil.
MY REVIEW
PROS: An excellent display of Roger Zelazny's wordsmithing at its best. A mixture of polished prose, some literary experimentation, and a plot full of red herrings and MacGuffins worthy of an Alfred Hitchcock film.
CONS: Until Zelazny is recognized as a "literary" figure and gets enshrined on our shelves along with others (such as Philip K. Dick), you're probably going to have to scramble to find this and other gems.
BOTTOM LINE: In a single volume you get what was always the best about Roger Zelazny. The magic of the plot where you're never sure of what exactly is going on. The carefully chosen prose, honed down to the bare essentials. The occasional bit of literary experimentation. 181 pages, a single volume, no sequels, no padding, no fluff. Pure magic.
Fred Cassidy is doing his best to stay in school. Despite the efforts of multiple academic advisers (all of whom want to graduate him), he has managed to skip from major to major for thirteen years (he gets a stipend from his late Uncle Albert as long as he is not awarded a degree). But things get strange when one of his professors turns up to ransack his apartment and question him about a reproduction of an alien artifact known as the Star Stone. Fred goes Down Under and into the Outback to pursue a project for college only to be attacked and staked out in the sun to become a human raisin; he is "rescued" by two aliens (dressed as a wombat and a kangaroo) and taken into "protective" custody.
Not strange enough? How about the words he sees in the sky or in windows, or the voices that echo from dreams. Toss in the State Department, the United Nations, two alien telepaths that try to "help" (one is a cost accountant, so is not very good as a telepath), ex-academic advisers who turn up in odd places, friends of his uncle, associates of his uncle turned bad, more aliens, another alien artifact that can turn you inside out.
More? How about a predilection for climbing buildings. Reversed greasy-spoon hamburgers and fries that taste like the best meal you've eaten; reversed brandy that is the nectar of the gods. Cigarettes and booze, booze and cigarettes. An alien menace. A fight in the sky. A journey to the stars and the start of a new partnership.
And all this--I'll say again--in 180 pages.
There's something about writer's from a certain age--maybe it was using a typewriter and carbon paper or a need to get as much prose into the slicks, pulps and between the hard covers as possible or genetic imprinting from the old school--that caused them to write briefly but beautifully. Zelazny, like Arthur C. Clarke, Clifford D. Simak, and Alfred Bester packed a lot per page. Whereas somebody today would give you an infodump of several pages to explain how an alien object, for example, could reverse you, Zelazny tosses the idea off in a sentence or two, mixing it in with dozens of other bits and pieces throughout the book. Indeed, this book reminds me strongly of all those writers. Like Clarke, Zelazny packs more ideas into his pages than most other authors manage in the space of a career. Like Simak, he employs a sparse style and an economy of words as well as creating memorable aliens. Like Bester, he experiments with prose and typographical layout as well as making the ordinary extraordinary.
(This novel in particular reminds me of another genre craftsman: Spider Robinson, especially Robinson's tales of Callahan's Place. It would not have surprised me one bit to have Fred Cassidy, in visiting the several bars that appear in this book, stop in at Callahan's and tell of his story and find help from Jake and the others.)
I've lost track of the number of times I've read this book since I first read it as a serial in the pages of Analog in 1975. Every time I do read it, it manages to once again charm me, thrill me, and surprise me. As it did so again this evening, and as I hope it will do so for you.
otherwyrld's review against another edition
3.0
I picked this up at random in the library, as I realised that I hadn't actually read that many books by this author, and this one was certainly a book I had never encountered before. Anyone expecting the meaty muscularity of the author's Amber series might be a little disappointed with this tale, given the far more experimental nature of it. It felt a lot like a new wave book, or one that Philip K. Dick might write, neither of which are necessarily good things in my opinion, though others would no doubt heartily disagree. The author is said to have written this in a single draft and with no rewrites, which makes me wonder what he was on at the time. It was nominated for the Hugo for best novel in 1976, but lost to The Forever War, which wasn't really surprising.
Still, it's an entertaining, relatively light and sometimes charming book. The ending is perhaps a little bit of a let down, which is why I am giving it 3 stars
Still, it's an entertaining, relatively light and sometimes charming book. The ending is perhaps a little bit of a let down, which is why I am giving it 3 stars
nataliya_x's review against another edition
5.0
You know, a part of me really wishes I could have pulled off the same trick the book's protagonist did for 13 years - remain a perpetual student supported by a cryogenically frozen uncle, free to expand my horizons, create Lobachevsky-worthy mathematical odes to beauty, and not ever having to graduate to the real adult world.
This Hugo and Nebula Awards nominee is a treasure hiding behind the funky 1970s paperback cover. It's wickedly smart and wickedly hilarious, and even its gimmicky structure (each chapter ends on a cliffhanger, and the following chapter picks up the story a while later and eventually works its way back to the previous cliffhanger to explain what happened) did not lessen my enjoyment. The enjoyment that is solely due to the charm of the never-ending smartly funny banter inside the protagonist's head that Zelazny treats us to for much-too-short pages of this book.). But eventually the real world of this near-future ('soft sci-fi', think aliens and occasional flying cars but otherwise perfectly recognizable 20-th century world) gives Fred a rude awakening from this perpetual studentry bliss when an alien civilization artifact goes missing, undercover wombat and kangaroo interfere, and some things are in dire need of literal reversing. And we are treated to a hilarious and humorous ride peppered with smart references (Fred did NOT waste all those undergrad years, indeed!) and clever allusions. And I loved every page of it. What can I say - I'm a sucker for smart and funny gimmicky literature goodness.
Zelazny is clearly having quite a bit of fun with the language of this book, alternating between dazzlingly poetic and smartass-y to intelligently witty to occasionally slapstick-y to pseudo-sophisticated to joyful wordplay. He does it with such ease and fun that it turned out to be impossible for me to not completely adore it.star-stones stars.
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Lovely review by Carol that made me aware of this little gem of a book is this way.
——————
Recommended by: carol.
"'Let there be an end to thought. Thus do I refute Descartes.' I sprawled, not a cogito or a sum to my name."However, when the real adult world comes equipped with aliens undercover as a wombat and a kangaroo, even the prospect of potential never-ending student life pales in comparison.
This Hugo and Nebula Awards nominee is a treasure hiding behind the funky 1970s paperback cover. It's wickedly smart and wickedly hilarious, and even its gimmicky structure (each chapter ends on a cliffhanger, and the following chapter picks up the story a while later and eventually works its way back to the previous cliffhanger to explain what happened) did not lessen my enjoyment. The enjoyment that is solely due to the charm of the never-ending smartly funny banter inside the protagonist's head that Zelazny treats us to for much-too-short pages of this book.
"The hot sands had had shouted them through me all afternoon, then night’s frigid breezes had whispered the motto at the overdone lamb chop, my ear: "You are a living example of the absurdity of things."Fred Cassidy, as I mentioned above, is a perpetual student by day and an acrophiliac in his spare time (as in love of heights, or climbing tall buildings in Fred's case). Due to an apparent loophole in his not-quite-dead uncle's will he is entitled to a very comfortable life as long as he is getting a college degree full-time. For thirteen years, Fred takes full advantage of that, becoming probably the most broadly-educated man on the planet (and also acquiring very practical skills in basket-weaving, coming THIS close to completing a major in it - an a few dozen of other specialties as well).
"And if somebody has put together a course on the subject, this one has probably taken it," said Charv.Finally graduating Fred becomes almost a mission of the university officials (
"Yes. Unfortunate."
Spoiler
they eventually do succeed, bestowing upon Fred a well-earned DhP eergeD ni ygoloporhtnA"While I seldom indulge in graffiti, verbal or pre-, I have always felt something of empathy for those who scale walls and make their marks on them. The farther back you go, the more interesting the act becomes. Now it may be true, as some have claimed, that the impulse was first felt in the troglodytic equivalent of the john and that cave drawings got started this way, as a kind of pictorial sublimation of an even more primitive evolutionary means of marking one’s territory. Nevertheless, when somebody started climbing around on walls and mountainsides to do it, it seems pretty obvious that it had grown from a pastime into an art form. I have often thought of that first guy with a mastodon in his head, staring at a cliff face or cave wall, and I have wondered what it was that set him suddenly to climbing and scraping away-what it felt like. Also, what the public’s reaction was. Perhaps they made sufficient holes in him to insure the egress of the spirits behind it all. Or perhaps the bold initiative involved was present in greater abundance then, awaiting only the proper stimulus, and a bizarre response was considered as common as the wriggling of one’s ears. Impossible to say. Difficult not to care."
Zelazny is clearly having quite a bit of fun with the language of this book, alternating between dazzlingly poetic and smartass-y to intelligently witty to occasionally slapstick-y to pseudo-sophisticated to joyful wordplay. He does it with such ease and fun that it turned out to be impossible for me to not completely adore it.
"Thus, thus, so and thus: awakening as a thing of textures and shadings: advancing and retreating along a scale of soft/dark, smooth/shadow, slick/bright: all else displaced and translated to this: The colors, sounds and balances a function of these two.Zelazny dabbles in absurdity, leading me to inevitable comparisons with parts of Adams' "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", but never topples into the clearly absurdist territory. He plays with turning his prose to almost-but-not-quite-poetry with all the alliteration and metaphorical language and internal rhythm of the sentences, but does not fully go down that path, either.
Advance to hard and very bright. Fall back to soft and black...
"Do you hear me, Fred?" — the twilight velvet.
"Yes" — my glowing scales.
"Better, better, better..."
"Sunflash, some splash. Darkle. Stardance. Phaeton's solid gold Cadillac crashed where there was no ear to hear, lay burning, flickered, went out. Like me."Lovely and clever enjoyable little book, the one that will surely reread quite a few times in the future. 5
"Drifting drowsy across the countryside, I paraded my troubles through the streets of my mind, poking occasional thoughts between the bars of their cages, hearing the clowns beat drums in my temples."
--------------
Lovely review by Carol that made me aware of this little gem of a book is this way.
——————
Recommended by: carol.
phunkypbj's review against another edition
5.0
So nice to read Zelazny again. I ususally don't really go for humor in my sci-fi / fantasy but the humor in his books really works. Reading Catch-22 at the same time, I was struck by a similarity in tone (in the sometimes absurd dialogue) which was interesting.