About three months ago, my Science Fiction Lit. class and I had the opportunity to interview Hugh Howey. During the interview, naturally, we started tAbout three months ago, my Science Fiction Lit. class and I had the opportunity to interview Hugh Howey. During the interview, naturally, we started talking about his upcoming projects and publications, and he offered some really good advice about his then, as of yet, unpublished novel Sand: don’t read it. It was, according to him, too dark, too vulgar, and too different from Wool Omnibus (Silo, #1). So, don’t waste your time - don't bother, don’t read it.. he said. Naturally, his telling a class of high schoolers not to read his book made every person in the room move Sand to the top of his or her To Read list.
I’m sorry Mr. Howey. You give fantastic advice on your website, and you gave fantastic advice and insight during our interview. But I have failed you. I read Sand.
And I loved it.
It’s been said before in other reviews, but it bears repeating that this is not Wool. Wool was amazing because it had good characters and an amazing twist-filled mystery plot. Sand is amazing because it has a good plot and amazing downtrodden, sympathetic, gut wrenching characters. Sand is a book filled with hopelessness and a sense of never being able to rise above because life doesn’t actually offer that opportunity. Howey writes several times in his book that the world of Sand is one on which the gods have turned their collective backs. He was right; Sand is that kind of world.
Also, not to dump on Wool - it was well written - but Howey's writing in Sand is filled with page after page of beautifully scripted passages. The amount of growth between the writing of Wool and Sand is remarkable.
Equally remarkable is the dialogue. For some reason, many authors have a very difficult time writing dialogue that sounds like it’s being spoken by a human being and not a monologuing cartoon character. Even authors who can write otherwise fantastic stories, plots, action scenes and such, trip, stumble and fall either into the pit of "My Character Speaks with an Exposition Stick Up His Ass," or "My Character Speaks Like He’s Fourteen." The characters in Sand, on the the other hand, are all rather quiet, reserved individuals who never let their dialogue get in the way, so when a character does speak, his/her dialogue is filled with weight and value. I loved it.
It’s really hard to think of novels similar to Sand. Perhaps The Road for its extraordinarily bleak look at humanity, or perhaps The Running Man for it’s You Cannot Beat the World plot. Actually, a general comparison to Stephen King is rather appropriate: hopeless characters, gritty dialogue, a quiet plot punctuated with severe claustrophobia, moments of grotesque violence, and (my particular favorite) the Life as a Desert metaphor. These elements are all hallmarks that are found in great Stephen King novels. I guess now I’ll have to say they’re hallmarks found in a Hugh Howey novel.
I hope every novel he writes in the future is as good as this one. If they are, it will do nothing but continue to cement his place as one of the best science fiction writers we have....more
I've read it twice now, and both times come away with the same feeling: it's a fantastic book filled with everything nerds like myself love (though thI've read it twice now, and both times come away with the same feeling: it's a fantastic book filled with everything nerds like myself love (though the book has a few warts that hold it back). Read the book - you'll love it....more
I actually read this book a few years ago, but with the current GLUT of YA dystopians, I feel the need to review and explain why The Knife of Never LeI actually read this book a few years ago, but with the current GLUT of YA dystopians, I feel the need to review and explain why The Knife of Never Letting Go is the beginning of the best YA trilogy, bar none.
I’ll explain more in a moment, but just ponder this thought first: I literally cannot think of a single YA cliche found in this book:
A teenage main character who is mysteriously good at everything? Nope. A teenage main character who is absolutely essential to changing a world that apparently can’t be changed by adults? Nope. A shallow love interest? Nope. A shoehorned sex scene? Nope. A rebellion that stands up to the evil overlords? Nope. An overt and in-your-face political messages? Nope. A theme that says nature is good and technology is bad? Nope. A one dimensional villain? Nope. A gay character who is only in the story to be the token gay character? Nope. Predictable plot twists? Nope. Rehashed plot ideas in novel two and twice-rehashed plot ideas in novel three? Nope. A cliched ending? Nope.
(Fine. If you really need me to find a flaw, I’ll acknowledge that the main antagonist of the book was one dimensional and darn near indestructible for no apparent reason. But he plays a very minor role in the novel, so it’s easily overlooked, especially considering how Patrick Ness writes such well rounded antagonists for the sequels.)
The dystopia setting of The Knife of Never Letting Go itself is extraordinarily unique: an all male town where everyone can hear everyone else’s thoughts all the time. No super big, all controlling, technologically powered evil government. No facade of a utopia behind which lies unseen(?) misery. In fact, the dystopia of the novel is not man-made at all - the dystopia - that I can read your thoughts, and you can read mine - is a result of nature, not anything created by man. Ness takes this concept and works it out to natural, logical and captivating conclusions.
The unique dystopia that Ness writes also leads to a unique narration style. The book is narrated by Todd, our hero, in a first person present tense (this is by itself nothing new), but what makes the narration unique is the fact that Todd can hear the thoughts of everyone else, and everyone else can hear Todd’s thoughts - including his narration. This presents some excellent scenes as Todd the character and Todd the narrator must omit or dance around ideas for fear of giving away his schemings to characters nearby, lest they discover his secret plans. It is completely unique, and written so very well.
Another reason that The Knife of Never Letting Go (and the rest of the trilogy) is so good is because the characters make real decisions that come with real consequences. Todd and Viola are both children living in a world of adults, trying to survive events that are much bigger than themselves. This is not Katniss or Shea or Thomas spearheading a mighty and righteous rebellion. Todd and Viola spend most of their time just trying to keep their heads above water while events continues to turn. Sometimes they control their own fates, but more often than not, the adults act like adults (quite the rarity in YA lit.) - take charge, call the shots.
Finally, the last element of this book (and the trilogy) that makes it so good is that the relationship between Todd and Viola is powerful, and genuine. It is one of the most realistic relationships written in a YA novel. It’s built on time, trust, and mutual survival. The relationship struggles, it comes with genuine doubts and genuine pitfalls. The characters grow and mature apart as much as they do together, and if there is one thing that this trilogy does, it grows its characters. Every observation, interaction, and situation marks the characters, changes the characters, and molds their views of the world around them. And because the characters experience very different events, their lives grow in different directions. This makes the scenes between Todd and Viola that much more real as they struggle to understand how each other is changing, and to keep their relationship alive. It is not an easy task.
Patrick Ness’s Chaos Walking trilogy is a testament that YA lit. does not need the cliches that have overgrown the genre. His trilogy is filled with unique life, passion, and a coming of age story that will leave all readers emotionally drained. The Chaos Walking trilogy is the pinnacle of YA lit. ...more
Rendezvous with Rama is the perfect introduction to the world of Hard SF.
So many Hard SF novels make your head hurt just reading the prologue, but notRendezvous with Rama is the perfect introduction to the world of Hard SF.
So many Hard SF novels make your head hurt just reading the prologue, but not this book. The science of Rama may seem simple, but that’s what makes it work. I, as a reader with only 101 Physics in my brain can understand, appreciate, and visualize what is on display in this book. And yet, I never felt like Clarke had to dumb down anything for me. This is in contrast to other Hard SF books (for example, Eon or Blindsight - both excellent books in their own right) that are so hard I truly struggle to understand what exactly is going on.
With Rama, though, I can actually put my own brain to work and come to conclusions along with the characters rather than always being told the conclusions I should have come to (if only I possessed doctorates in physics).
But beyond the science, I love that Clarke makes me feel the roller coaster of exploration that the crew of the Endeavor experience. I’m awed at each newly discovered facet Rama. I’m overwhelmed at the size of the eight kilometer staircase. The glory that opens up when Rama’s lights are switched on. The terror and confusion as the explorers decide if they are at the top of a chasm or at the bottom of a well. And I’m saddened as Rama battens down the hatches and takes most all of her secrets with her.
Speaking of plot items, some readers are put off by the lack of plot in Rama, but in a book like this, the plot just isn’t the focus. The only reason the plot exists is to give the characters and readers a reason to explore from point A to point B, and then, just when you think you have an inkling of what’s going on, Clarke pulls Rama away. Far from being a negative, Rama’s departure and the mysteries she takes with her makes the book much stronger. The sense of wonder and awe is never let down nor destroyed. Besides, I don’t think any answers that Clarke could have come up with would have been satisfying. Much better to let the reader wonder and draw his/her own conclusions.
To sum up: the science is at the right level, the book is the right length, the chapters are the right length, the plot is exactly what is needed and nothing more...everything about this book is just right. If you haven’t read this book, but you think you’d like to try it, take my advice and block out a few hours. Then go wander around Rama. You won’t be disappointed.
I wish some modern-day authors would also take up the challenge of writing compelling Hard SF that doesn’t require advanced degrees (The Martian is a great example). By the way, if anyone has any other suggestions about Hard SF 101 books, I’d love to know about them. ...more
I first read this book ten years ago. At that time I was transitioning from Star Wars novels (and there were so very many of them) to the broader worlI first read this book ten years ago. At that time I was transitioning from Star Wars novels (and there were so very many of them) to the broader world of science fiction, and when I think back through ten years of fog, I remember really liking this novel...or perhaps I remember thinking I should like this novel�?
I remember loving the idea of psycho-history and how the masses could be so easily predicted. I remember that the novel had empires, nuclear guns, spaceships, and intrigue and...and that after the first two novels, I couldn’t bring myself to finish the third. Hm. Perhaps that should have tipped me off...
Because now, ten years later, it’s hard for me to talk about Foundation without talking about how tragically dated it has become.
The writing is serviceable, but nearly everything else screams 1950's. The dialogue is campy; the women (what few there are) are firmly planted in their 50’s roles of servitude, submissiveness and bitchiness; and two of the novel’s three main characters, Hardin and Mallow, come off as colossal ass-hats, filled with so much academic smugness and superiority, you just wanna punch ‘em in the face. I don't know how I was supposed to root for either of them.
Actually, that is a really good point - all of the heroes are intellectually superior to everyone around them: the reader knows it, the heroes know it, and the heroes love to tell everyone else about it, too. Yeah, ass-hats, each one of them.
But the ultimate nail in Asimov’s dated writing coffin is that his writing style is best described as “tell; don’t show.� Nothing of import happens “on screen� unless its a conversation. The collapse of the empire, the overthrowing of governments, the capture of spies, the destruction of ships - all of it happens “off screen.� Each chapter is just dudes sittin� around and talking about all of the exciting stuff that just happened somewhere else.
(Also, I just can’t help but feel that the world view Asimov displays in this novel is really shallow. You’d sorta think that given the novel’s 1951 publication date and it’s proximity to WWII, that his world view would be more...hm...hard to explain without going into more depth that I want right now…does anyone else know how to explain this succinctly?)
The only redeeming quality of the writing is that the novel is organized into five discrete parts, and each is broken up into short chapters. If the chapters were any longer, I’m not sure I would have been able to muster the enthusiasm needed to reach the last page.
I dunno. The more I read Asimov the more I’m forced to the conclusion that he’s got great ideas, but that he’s just a boring writer. Yup. ...more
I first read Huck Finn fifteen years ago in high school. Then I read it again (or was supposed to) in college. Now, I get the (mis)fortune of of teachI first read Huck Finn fifteen years ago in high school. Then I read it again (or was supposed to) in college. Now, I get the (mis)fortune of of teaching it myself to a whole new generation of students who need to be bored to death by ye olden American Literature classics.
Students, I have a confession to make. I understand Huck Finn. I can explain Huck Finn. But nothing puts me to sleep faster than this pile of literary poo. The last quarter of the book is particularly coma inducing. But I did it. I powered through. And so can you. And, just like hitting yourself in the head with a spiky hammer, it feels SO good to be done with it. ...more
Loading...
