Caveat

With regards the reviews I write, I feel it is necessary to provide this caveat.
The initial section right up to the button that opens the full synopsis is the teaser where I try to give a look into the book without revealing too much.

The section within the button is a full synopsis. No detail will be hidden at all.

Be warned!
The final section (Food for thought) is a series of thoughts on the book. This is a personal take on the book and does mention important parts of the books. It should be considered as much of a spoiler as the previous section!
Showing posts with label Mythology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mythology. Show all posts

Sunday, 5 October 2014

Book Review: Kiln People by David Brin - 4thwallfly

Welcome to the Fly on the 4th Wall. This week's science fiction book under review was written in 2002 and set in a future where mankind is free to do as they please thanks to the "ditto," a disposable body from which memories can be downloaded from.
Today's book is:
Cover art copyright of Jim Burns.

'In a perilous future, disposable duplicate bodies fulfil every citizen's legal and illicit whim. Life as a twenty-four-hour "ditto" is cheap, as Albert Morris knows. A brash investigator with a knack for trouble, he's sent plenty of clay duplicates into deadly peril, then "inloaded" memories from copies that were shot, crushed, drowned... all part of a day's work.

But when Morris tackles a ring of crooks making bootleg copies of a famous actress, he
trips into a secret so explosive it incites open warfare on the streets of dittotown.' - Kiln People, David Brin [2002]

Kiln People is a tale that mimics the old 'Film Noir' crime thrillers of the late 1940s. Film Noir's stereotype is generally associated with an emphasis on cynicism and sexual desire, black and white films that are dark because of their hard-life setting rather than their colours. The same is true with Kiln People. We follow the story of Albert Morris, a private dick* (who even wears a trenchcoat and fedora, a stereotype of the Film Noir private eyes). The story is told from realAlbert and from the ditAlberts' point of view. The ditto-Alberts (ditAlberts) are the characters who evoke the dark edginess of the Noir crime thriller because they are the ones who are expendable, who risk their lives in the search of answers.
*Slang for detective. 

The story is set in a future built upon the labour of a self-aware, sentient underclass, namely golems (or dittos). The term golem comes from Jewish mythology, a creature created from clay. The mythology differs in time, (for example, Adam in the Genesis myth is a golem formed from mud), but it seems likely that David Brin is drawing upon the medieval interpretations of the golem, a creature formed from clay and provided a shem, a sheet of paper with God's name that grants it life. In this future, mankind imprints the Standing Wave of his soul into his clay golem and sets it to tasks. The golems expire after a single day, returning to 'inload' memories to their archetype (their template or creator if you will) before their remains are recycled. As a result, clay-life is cheap as the golems are treated as property rather than people. In this future, man cannot murder a ditto, he can only destroy it (and pay the resulting fines).


Click below for the full synopsis (click to open/close):



Food for thought:

The great thing about Kiln People is that many of the conceptual ideas raised by the book are also compared and contrasted with, examined in subtle ways here and there that make the book's setting both fascinating and identifiable.

At its heart, it is a Noir crime thriller. We have a story filled with vast, over-reaching conspiracies set within a dark and cruel world. A world built on sex and cynicism (classics of the Noir crime genre), a world that is unashamed by its behaviour and seeks more out of life. There are few subtleties to the mimicry of the Noir crime thriller. Detective Albert Morris wears a trenchcoat and fedora, a lone crusader for justice in a world tainted by casual violence. Frankly, it doesn't really get more cliché than that.

Mentioned above, the basis for the dittos that mankind creates at whim is the Jewish 'golem' mythology. The mythology varies, but all agree that a golem is a being made of clay and animated to life. In the Genesis myth (from the bible), Adam is likewise sculpted from clay in his creator's image (though modern translations from the Hebrew use 'dirt'). Hence, dittos are effectively mankind's Adam, images of their creator.

Within the golem mythology though, there are disagreements with the method of animation. Some golems are said to be animated by having emet (אֱמֶת) inscribed on them. Emet is a Hebrew acronym for 'God created to do' and also means truth. But the sense of 'truth' refers to a physical action, that there is truth in doing an action, thereby being a reason for the golem to animate, that it is given purpose by truth. Another way to look at it would be to understand that dittos (and golems) are given a purpose in life, and that purpose is to do. Within the emet concept though, a golem is ended by removing the first letter, by changing אֱמֶת (emet) to מֵת (met), changing the meaning from truth to 'dead.' The letter removed is the Aleph, the first letter of the alphabet and represents God. Therefore, to remove God is to die. How fitting then that all dittos within the story do not exist without their creators. To refuse their creator is to never inload your memories, which is to die without continuity.

The other mythology with golems is the provision of a shem which gives the clay life. Shem translates most commonly to: 'the essential reality of who someone is.' We see this in the way that everyone had a standing wave, a scientifically quantified soul, but within that is an ineffable part of one's identity that continues to feature through all of one's dittos. For example, in Albert Morris' case this is expressed as his stubbornness.

There are however, a few errors through the text. The first starts with a ditto shaped like Horus, mentioned as the Egyptian god of death. Horus is the god of vengeance, sky, protection and war. The god of the afterlife and death is Osiris with Anubis being the protector of the dead.

The second features incorrect statements about China. One of the characters has received gifts from China, specifically from the Emperor (implying that the Republic of China was never founded). To be precise, the character has received a terracotta soldier. David Brin makes a reference to the terracotta soldier in his character's possession having come from China, the country that derived its name from the Ch'in Emperor. This is an incorrect spelling based on an out-of-date romanisation method called 'Wade-Giles' and David Brin really refers to the Qin Emperor (specifically Qin Shi Huang Di [秦始皇帝], whose name translates to: Qin Starts the Dynasties). In addition to the spelling error there is another factual error. China's name derives from Chini (چینی) in Middle Persian and the use of چینی to refer to China predates the Qin Dynasty, referring instead to the Qin State (9th Century BCE - 221 BCE).

Furthermore Sian is the Wade-Giles version of "Xian." The Wade-Giles method of romanisation had been replaced in 1958 with the more efficient and correct Pinyin system. While the Wade-Giles has been in use for over one hundred years, anyone who speaks Chinese today can tell you the subtle sound differences between Pinyin (which attempts to mimic the sounds that are spoken by Chinese) and Wade-Giles (which mimics the sounds that Westerners hear). Obviously, as a result, the Wade-Giles system is considered to be vastly incorrect (it would be impossible to argue that the originators of the language somehow are wrong when they speak compared to those who are translating what they perceive to hear).

Outside of these issues, the book as mentioned above, raises parallels to its own setting quite often, many of which are fascinating insights into the influences that the author drew on to write the story. The most notable is Fritz Lang's Metropolis, a black and white film of 1927. The film is an epic science fiction set in a dystopian future where the wealthy industrialists rule the city of Metropolis and are supported by a lower class of downtrodden workers that dwell underground and must toil constantly to keep the city running. The parallels with dittos are immediately apparent, this idea that though the dittos are sentient they are not treated as equals to mankind, instead used up as mere tools to further the wealthier original's needs. They are a new form of underclass that has emerged in mankind's society. On the one hand, there is a tragedy within this viewpoint, that mankind has so casually turned dittos into robots (here I mean the original meaning of the term, robota*). On the other hand though, dittos have liberated human society. They allow the originals to live lives of luxury compared to our present day existences. It is a society where every human being who can imprint and can obtain jobs for their dittos is otherwise free to do as they please. Clara for example, (in addition to her dittos fighting within the army), is a permanent university student, filling her life with learning different subjects one at a time, but mankind's freedom has come at the cost of their sentient mimics.

The book draws an analogy with the Roman Empire, which was built on the backs of slaves. Though the only real analogy is through the use of the violence that the dittos play out on behalf of their owners whims. In a sense, the setting of Kiln People is a dark setting where violence is sated through sanctioned (or at least, 'accepted') methods, such as the drama and fights that break out in dittotown. In that sense, the use of dittos to fulfil the whims of the owner create an essence of the Roman Empire before its collapse, of a world filled with immorality and violent excess with all of that hidden behind a thin veneer of civilised behaviour that 'real' people engage in.

*The term robot is not actually an English word. It derives from a Czech playwright who coined the word in 1920 after his brother suggested the term robota over labori which defines 'serf labour.' Effectively, when we name a thing 'robot' we really mean to call it a slave, like a serf, it is owned and has few rights to itself. To some extents, dittos are robots, able to have aspects of their sentience limited or even outright blocked, or able to have their sensory perception disabled. They toil for their owners without complaint (with the exception of rare 'Frankensteins')

Ditto technology represents an interesting take on the Frankenstein story. One thing that needs to be clarified first though is the common mistake people make with the original story. The title of that novel is actually: Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Frankenstein was not the monster, he was the doctor who created the monster. The monster has no name throughout the original tale, referred to only by derogative terms such as 'wretch,' 'demon,' and 'fiend.' A faulty ditto is referred to as a Frankenstein, in reference to the monster that Victor Frankenstein created. However, the Frankenstein link at first seems rather separate to the general ditto theme, but we must recall that it is the subtitle to the text that matters. 'The Modern Prometheus.' In Latin versions of the Promethean myth, Prometheus created man using clay and water, and was later punished by Zeus for disobedience (giving the fire Zeus had withheld to man). In much the same way, Frankenstein dittos are dittos that disobey their creators and are punished accordingly (by being fair game to any human or ditto that chooses should the ditto be reported as a Frankenstein).
Though, of course, I cannot help but agree with the cynicism in this book. The idea of using dittos as a means to express violence in order to preserve real lives is quite acceptable, provided one believes that dittos are not equal to human beings (which for example, Tolerance Unlimited doesn't believe). An interesting political aspect within this book is the concept of the Whistleblower Prize, a good take on the benefits of a Capitalist society. The idea being, if something illegal is going on within one's workplace or community, the Whistleblower Prize richly rewards any individual who blows the whistle, giving instant celebrity status to anyone who uncovered illegal acts or corruption which represents an innovative way to manipulate human greed into a positive action.


Saturday, 30 August 2014

Book Review: The Age of Odin by James Lovegrove - 4thwallfly

Welcome to the Fly on the 4th Wall. Today we'll have a review of:
The Age of Odin - James Lovegrove
Cover art copyright of Solaris.

Before we start though, a brief word of warning. The book contains a large amount of profanity. This is because the main character is an ex-army soldier, and the book is told from his point of view.


'Gideon Coxall was a good soldier but bad at everything else, until a roadside explosive device leaves him with one deaf ear and a British Army half-pension. So when he hears about the Valhalla Project, it's like a dream come true. They're recruiting former service personnel for excellent pay, no questions asked, to take part in unspecified combat operations.

The last thing Gid expects is to find himself fighting alongside ancient Viking gods. The world is in the grip of one of the worst winters it has ever known, and Ragnarök- the fabled final conflict of the Sagas - is looming.' The Age of Odin - James Lovegrove 

The Age of Odin follows Gideon Coxall as he experiences the worst winters that Britain has ever known, driving through a storm towards as far north in England as you can get before 'Och-aye-the-noo' land. He travels with a stoner and ex-army friend with the unfortunate nickname "Abortion." From a modern perspective, the world setting at this time would be akin to the start of an ice age, the entire world experiencing a snowy winter. 

The entire story is set from Gideon's perspective from start to finish, giving us a very personal view of the events occuring around him. Gideon is determined to be master of his own destiny, which provides an odd contrast to the fact that we (the reader) are aware that the saga of Ragnarök is exactly that, a story with a fixed number of events that occur in sequence. However, the saga only really begins after Gideon finds himself before Asgard Hall (named after Asgard, the world of the Norse gods).

From there, Gideon finds drawn into a world of fantasy that somehow blends with the reality around him. It's a world so very different from our own that there are times that Gideon himself initially struggles to come to terms with the facts of his situation. Although part of that struggle is the struggle to accept that the world he thought he lived in was not the real world.

The Age of Odin is one of the many books written by James Lovegrove that have begun the 'Godpunk' genre. In fact, the entire collection is being referred to as the 'Age of Godpunk.' Godpunk is derived from the term 'Steampunk.' Steampunk is a sub-genre of science fiction that refers to (most commonly) an alternate Victorian-era Earth in which steam-powered machinery represents the height of human achievement within industrialised nations (that would resemble the Western powers at their heights during the Industrial Revolutions they experienced.

Godpunk has so far referred to a curious blend of mythology and the post-modern reality (here meaning a future not too far removed from our current existence). The Age of Odin for example, sets the saga of Ragnarök as a shadow to our own world's machinations, ending with a dramatic climax that shapes the course of the otherwise ignorant world. On the other end of the spectrum though, Age of Ra and Age of Aztec (to name two of Lovegrove's other works) reveal worlds where the mythology is a fact of life, where the world is ruled by the Egyptian and Aztec gods in turn, hence Godpunk. 

Ragnarök is part of Viking mythology and depicts a series of future events that will culminate in the effective destruction of life as we know it and restart the world afresh. It's detailed in several poems and can be treated, if you will, as an event similar to the judgement day of the bible. However, unlike judgement day (which concerns mankind alone), Ragnarök involves the Norse (Norweigian) gods in a climatic battle that ends with the death of most of the Viking pantheon and the nine-worlds in which they live. In Viking mythology, Earth (called Midgard) is just one part of nine worlds that are the totality of creation.


Click below for the full synopsis (click to open/close):




Food for thought:

At first glance, this book appears simply to be a high-octane military thriller. However, this book is about more than that. The Age of Odin, like James Lovegrove's other books is about the power of faith, about the quandary of fate and free-will, and ironically, about the strength of humanity.

The book has a plot which is over-the-top. The conceptual idea is fascinating, and despite all the profanity within the novel, I felt it had captured the spirit of a 'standard' British Army soldier quite well. The profanity and snarky humour works because Gideon Coxall is exactly that, a man who has 'cocked up everything' (Coxall get it?) and is left a somewhat bitter but defiant person. He's not normal in any meaningful way because of his penchant for violence which seems at odds with our understanding of today's society. 

The trouble with Age of Odin is a simple one. Gideon. Gideon is a self-admitted 'loser' in the sense that he can't manage to hold a job, can't live a civilian life nor manage to be a good father/husband. At the same time though, if he were a classical square-chinned Hero of Hollywood movies sort, this book wouldn't work, it'd be boring. It does mean though that the reader is left with the sense that Gideon had been awkwardly shoved into his various roles in the story.

That said, I find I can forgive this because Ragnarök itself originates from a massive epic that was unrealistic anyway (as is always the trend with mythological stories). There is no way to condense it without making the story itself feel rushed and disjointed. Many of Ragnarök's monsters and villains are strange and weird but again, this is to be expected. It is a shame to see Gideon adopting such an important role in the plot but again, I understand this as a narrative necessity to ensure the reader is able to experience as much of the Ragnarök tale as possible.

However, this book has a number of interesting concepts. The best of which is Gideon questioning Odin about God (as in with a capital G, the God that Christians believe in). Most books won't touch God because of how it can be percieved. Odin merely states that he has never met God, if he exists, but then goes on to state that if he didn't exist, Odin wouldn't want to believe in him. This is a bone of contention that is often missed from the Christian perspective. God is a model citizen (and Jesus too if you will). We are expected to emulate God to be better people, that is the nature of God. 
The gods of the Viking people were attributed all sorts of powers and credited for a great many things, but they were still human and this was because Aesir (Viking gods) were flawed creatures, prone to jealousy, anger, fear, selfishness as much as any mortal was. God is not human and from the Viking perspective, God was cruel. The Viking gods are not omnipotent, nor omniscient. The flaws in the world are just as much their fault as man's. God however, is both omnipotent and omniscient. Doesn't this imply that He was well aware what would happen in the Garden of Eden? On some level, does this not imply that He in fact sets man up for their fall from grace? 

The other interesting part of the book is the question on fate and free-will. Ragnarök is a very grim time for Odin and the other gods, not because they are fighting for their lives, nor because this marks the end of days. It is grim because Odin and the other gods are constructs of mankind's faith. They are gods because they were believed to be gods. Effectively, this means that they know when and how they die, but at the same time, they cannot do anything to change that. It raises the quesiton of free-will neatly. Odin indicates in the story that the Aesir came about because people believed in them long ago, he also indicates that the gods can only die at the right time and place. For Odin it was in the belly of Fenrir, for Thor is was in the jaws of Jormungand. On the one hand, they have no free-will, their fates are already known, told and written down long before the modern era, but on the other hand, they do not see themselves as lacking free-will because their characters are such that the alternative could not be considered. This can be extended to mankind. 

Free-will is predicated on the concept of having a choice, getting to determine your own fate. However, on some level, we cannot ever be truly free because there are some things our consciousness or inner character would not let us do. Classic arguments of free-will are often extreme examples such as: "If I can guide my own fate, I can, for example, choose to jump off a bridge." But we can use a less extreme example, "If I can guide my own fate, I can, for example, choose between eating a chocolate or a fruit." In my own case, I love chocolate and nine times out of ten the answer would be: the chocolate. In which case, do I have free-will? Or merely the illusion of it? I'm not being forced to take the option I want, but I do not necessarily consider that there is an option at all. 

To use an example from the book, at any point does Gideon have any free will? The Norns state that to a Hero there are any number of paths, but Gideon is a man built by the life he has lived (as demonstrated by the Norns), and so, was there really any other path than that which he chose?

The final food for thought is this concept of the strength of humanity. This book involves gods of all shapes and sizes, but is ultimately about mankind. Here, Odin has revealed that effectively, mankind is the ones who create gods, mankind fashions them in our image. The turning point of Ragnarök is not the gods themselves but the humans serving under them. When Loki needed to bring the tools of Ragnarök to bear, he did not take the real Fenrir, Jormungand or Nagelfar, he instead preferred to use their man-made mimics. To quote Shakespeare:
'All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players.'

The whole story works as a play on that concept. Ragnarök is almost literally a stage, it's a Viking myth with a set of pre-conceived events. The players on the stage (here the Aesir) have no choice regardless of how they feel, but to act out the play to its fulfilment, and on some base level, it implies that gods and devils arrange themselves for our (mankind's) sole amusement. 

Thanks for reading!