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241 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1968
Space opera is a sub genre of science fiction that often emphasizes romantic, often melodramatic adventure, set mainly or entirely in outer space, usually involving conflict between opponents possessing advanced abilities, weapons, and other technology.
Sprung from pirates, reeling blind in fire, I am called pirate, murderer, thief.
Your are not the only one with secrets, Lorq. Prince and I have ours. When you came up out of the burning rocks, yes, I thought Prince was dead. There was a hollow tooth in my jaw filled with strychnine. I wanted to give you a victory kiss. I would have, if Prince had not screamed.
given any product, half of it may be grown on one world, the other half mined a thousand light-years away. On Earth, seventeen out of the hundreds of possible elements make up ninety percent of the planet. Take any other world, and you’ll find a different dozen making up ninety to ninety-nine percent. (79)This monologue leads up to the point that interstellar society is contingent fundamentally on transit so expensive that only “national governments on Earth, or corporations� “could afford the initial cost� (80). This leads to one sector of interstellar society having been “extended by the vastly monied classes of Earth,� whereas another sector “was populated by a comparatively middle-class movement� and a third sector, the newest, “comes from the lowest economic strata of the galaxy� (83). Protagonist is one of the principal nouveau riche greasers at the head of the ‘middle-class� sector, and much of the conflict of the novel arises out of a silly set of childhood confrontations with antagonist from the ‘vast monied classes.�
the worlds we’ve been through haven’t really fit us for meanings. If I survive, then a world, a hundred worlds, a way of life survives. If [antagonist] survives� […] Still, perhaps it is a game. They keep telling us we live in a meaningless society, that there is no solidity to our lives. Worlds are tottering about us now, and still I only want to play. (152)This candor reveals protagonist to be not only a ludic nihilist, but likewise a bearer of Sloterdijk’s enlightened false consciousness: “the character I thought obsessed by purpose reveals his obsession is only a habit; his habits are gratuitously meaningless, while those actions I construed as gratuitous reveal a most demonic purpose� (166). Protagonist even informs antagonist that “the reason I must fight you is I think I can win� (183). So, he’s, like, supergross--and yet still better than antagonist, who’s merely an Old Right aristocrat.
There was a thousand-year period from about fifteen hundred to twenty-five hundred, when people spent an incredible amount of time and energy keeping things clean. It ended when the last communicable disease finally became not only curable but impossible. There used to be an incredibility called ‘the common cold� that even in the twenty-fifth century you could be fairly sure of having at least once a year. I suppose back then there was some excuse for the fetish: there seemed to have been some correlation between dirt and disease. But after contagion became an obsolescent concern, sanitation became equally obsolescent. (123)Interstellar society also relies upon “a revolution in the concept of work� (195), arising out of the invention of “neural plugs,� whereby people plug their brain directly into machines to operate them: “All major industrial work began to be broken down into jobs that could be machined ‘directly� by man.� This purportedly “returned humanity to the working man. Under this system, much of the endemic mental illness caused by feelings of alienation left society� (196). The conclusion is that this society has allegedly abolished Marxist ‘alienation� caused by diremptions in the process of production, maybe (this is as yet still a class society based on private property, exploitation of wage labor, and suchlike, though).
You for a few seconds only [antagonist’s] face have seen. In the face the lines of a man’s fate mapped are. […] From the crack across mine, you where those lines my fate can tell will touch? (id.)Similarly, dude notes “the smile the captain had not yet allowed on his face� (175). There is a cool concordance here—just as there are internal and external signifiers for persons, both of which can be read by the trained interlocutor, so too the star has its own semiotics, both internal and external: “Because the make-up of a star doesn’t change in a nova, you can’t detect the build-up over any distance with spectranalysis or anything like that� (88).
After a thousand years of study [!!!], from close up and far away, it’s a bit unnerving how much we don’t know about what happens in the center of the most calamitous of stellar catastrophes [!]. The make-up of the star stays the same, only the organization of the matter within the star is disrupted by a process that is still not quite understood. It could be an effect of tidal harmonics. It could even be a prank of Maxwell’s demon. (95)So, after 1,000 years of study, the results of astrophysics is to note that the signifier changes but the underlying signified is self-identical (that’s synonymy, I think).
I haven’t seen anybody read the Tarot since I was in school. […] I suppose at one time you could have called me quite an amateur aficionado of the Book of Toth [sic] as they were incorrectly labeled in the seventeenth century. I would say rather […] the Book of the Grail? (100)(Am uncertain what the ‘Book of the Grail� means; there’s a few allegedly lost things out there by that name, but it’s apparently not the name of any standard Arthurian text.) Author’s alter ego explains that “the cards don’t actually predict anything. They simply propagate an educated commentary on present situations� (101), which is innocuous enough. But:
the seventy-eight cards of the Tarot present symbols and mythological images that have recurred and reverberated through forty-five centuries of human history. Someone who understands these symbols can construct a dialogue about a given situation. There’s nothing superstitious about it. The Book of Changes, even Chaldean Astrology only become superstitious when they are abused, employed to direct rather than guide and suggest. (id.)Uh, okay? It gets worse: “If somebody had told me I’d be working in the same crew, today, in the thirty-first century, with somebody who could honestly be skeptical about the Tarot, I don’t think I would have believed it� (110). Dude will “doubt if such fossilized ideas could have come from anywhere else but Earth� (id.); he “wouldn’t be surprised if in some upper Mongolian desert town there isn’t someone who still thinks Earth floats on a dish on the back of an elephant who stands on a serpent coiled on a turtle swimming in the sea of forever� (id.); indeed, this setting is so inverted that alter ego will carp “here you are, flying this star-freighter, a product of thirty-first century technology, and at the same time your head full of a petrified ideas a thousand years out of date� (id.). Alter ego can therefore proclaim that the thesis that the Tarot was faked by gypsies is “a very romantic notion� (111): “the idea that all those symbols, filtered down through five thousand years of mythology, are basically meaningless and have no bearing on man’s mind and actions [NB: idealist collective subject as per similar juvenile ideas in Ayn Rand], strikes a little bell of nihilism ringing� (id.). I suppose the basis of accusing Tarot skepticism of nihilism must be a hasty and unwarranted vulgar jungianism. Ugh.
The United States was a product of that whole communication explosion, movements of people, movements of information, the development of movies, radio, and television that standardized speech and the framework of thought—not thought itself, however—which meant that person A could understand not only person B, but person W, X and Y as well. People, information, and ideas move across the galaxy much faster today than they moved across the United States in 1950. You and I were born a third of a galaxy apart […] Still, you and I are much closer in information structure than a Cornishman and Welshman a thousand years ago. (137-38)