Archive for the ‘space opera’ Category
Hugo Award for Best Novel, 1983
Once upon a time there was an entity known as the Science Fiction Book Club. I discovered it while in high school, much to the horror of my parents, who were already alarmed at the way I turned whatever money I earned into a growing collection of books. (They wanted me to grow up as a responsible, practical man. Which, by their definition of such things, I never did.) In those far-off days (the 1970s), the SFBC advertised itself on the back of magazines such as Analog Science Fiction and Fact, a publication I picked up at the drugstore newsstand every chance I had. That advertisement offered a selection of books for a small fee: a dollar would give you your choice of any four. I took the bait, made my choices, and sent them the dollar.
Those four Book Club editions still sit in one of our bookcases to this day: The Hugo Winners, Vol. 1 & 2 edited by Isaac Asimov, Dune by Frank Herbert, The Dragon Riders of Pern by Anne MacCaffrey, and The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov. Hardcover sci-fi. I was thrilled, and found myself far more motivated to earn money than ever before. (For some reason, this motive to be enterprising did not satisfy parental concerns. Go figure.)
All four of these books proved to be wonderful reading experiences; I’ve read and reread them all, in the many years since then. The Foundation Trilogy left such a strong impression that when the author extended the series beyond the original, I was more than willing to read along. As a result, Foundation’s Edge came into my hands (via the SFBC) the same year it was nominated for, and then won, the Hugo Award for Best Novel.
Unlike the original trilogy – which I read as a single Book Club edition – Foundation’s Edge is not a fix up. That is to say, it’s not a collection of shorter works, written over a number of years, then stitched together to form a single narrative. I knew nothing about that concept, during that first reading of the trilogy in the ‘70s, and when I later understood it, I simply shrugged it off as of no consequence. The trilogy was a good read in any case. However, a recent reread of the original tales, followed immediately by rereading the sequel for this essay, brought home the difference between the two. The flow and pacing were both smoother in Foundation’s Edge, and there was less of a bare-bones quality to the exposition. The difference speaks to me of a book written as a single narrative, from start to finish, and not a collection assembled after a number of years.
Mention of pacing reminds me of some of the criticism the book has received, as being slow, “talky,” and, for some, boring. Nothing of the sort will be said by this reader. I have enough experience with Asimov’s fiction to know better than to expect a slam-bang action-adventure story. So pages of characters working their way through the plot, puzzling out its twists and turns with a lot of dialogue, created the sort of pace I would have expected for this writer and have always enjoyed.
Another sign that this was not a fix-up was the use of multiple subplots to carry the story. My impression of the original trilogy was that, while subplots existed, they felt like afterthoughts. In Foundation’s Edge, however, there are several subplots that were clearly developed together as the book was written. These subplots all come together neatly at the end and do so in a way that points to the inevitable sequel, Foundation and Earth: another book worth reading for the way it brings together Asimov’s most well-known creations, the Foundation, Galactic Empire, and Robot universes.
I’ve seen some unkind criticism of this merging of these previously separate story lines. Somewhere out there is a review that refers to this merging, near the end of Asimov’s long and productive career, as little more than narcissism. (Reads like a knee-high person trying to cut someone down to their size, quite frankly.) But for me as a reader and a fan, it was very entertaining to see all these stories braided together. It felt appropriate to me, a fitting wrap up to a career that entertained so many of us, for so long.
This would be the last Hugo Award (for a novel) in Asimov’s career, an award he actually only received twice for the Best Novel category. After suffering a heart attack a few years before, Asimov had bypass surgery the same year he won this second award. Unfortunately, the blood used in transfusion was contaminated with the HIV virus. He survived almost a full decade after being infected, but ultimately died in 1992, barely a decade after this win.
Downbelow Station by C.J. Cherryh, Winner of the Hugo Award for Best Novel, 1982
There was a time when I made a point of reading Hugo Award winners as soon as a given year’s WorldCon results were announced. (Assuming I hadn’t already read that book – which was a rare thing.) That’s a habit I’ve lost over the past twenty or so years, and with a very few exceptions, I haven’t really been keeping up. But in the late 1970s, and all through the 1980s, I picked up copies of Hugo winners as soon as I could after the awards were made.
Award-winning novels did not, of course, make up the bulk of my sci-fi and fantasy reading. I was also, in that time period, beginning to pick up on authors I would follow through the years to come. This was facilitated by a relocation from a small town, with no bookstores in easy reach, to a major metropolitan area that held many such establishments. And so I was better able to indulge my appetite for fiction. Of the authors I discovered as a result of this easier access, few have provided me with as many enjoyable reads as C.J. Cherryh. I read Gate of Ivrel the year DAW Books published it, and in quick succession read Well of Shiuan, Fires of Azeroth, and The Faded Sun Trilogy. The author’s writing style and detailed depictions of exotic civilizations and their peoples had a very strong appeal, and so I was willing to take a chance on a new and longer work by this author when it became available. That’s how I came to read Downbelow Station before it won its Hugo Award for Best Novel in 1982.
Downbelow Station raised my interest in C.J. Cherryh’s work to a new level. The prologue that sets the stage reads like an excellent bit of narrative history – a genre of nonfiction that has always appealed to me. The story launches from those pages with an immediacy that drops the reader straight into the tension-filled plot while introducing the main characters as they each deal with a sudden, and then rapidly worsening, situation. The war between the Earth Company and the colonial worlds and stations of Union – which has raged for many decades – is coming to an end. The fleet of warships loyal to the Earth Company are too few in number to win, and Union is poised for victory. Star stations belonging to the Company are falling to Union, generating a flood of refugees for whom Pell Station (orbiting Pell’s World) is a final, if desperate, last stop. The station, overburdened by this sudden increase in population, is pushed to its limits. To make matters worse, the Company ship that led the refugees in warns of more to come. Each major character is introduced during this massive surge of refugees, their roles and respective subplots established, and the story expands from the event of arrival and the unrest it immediately creates.
The multiple subplots never lose sight of each other, and the pacing is carefully balanced between rapid action and introspection. The characters are believable, and their actions and reactions drive the braid of subplots that combine to create the overall tale. Complications increase as the overall plot pushes the characters into ever more dire situations, creating a conflict that appears irresolvable. And yet, there is a resolution, one that not only makes sense but lays the groundwork for the many novels that have since been set in the Alliance-Union universe for which this author is so well known.
More than most of the Hugo winners I’ve discussed here, rereading this book really took me back to that time when science fiction was more than just escapism for me. It was more of a way of life, and had become the keystone of my social life, associated as I was with fannish groups in the Phoenix metro area. I was even involved, in a small way, with the running of a local sci-fi convention. In 1981, I found myself volunteering to be overnight security for the dealer’s room of this “con.” This involved spending the night in the room housing the various tables and their wares, a task that appealed because I couldn’t afford a room at the hotel. I first read Downbelow Station – almost all of it in the two nights I was needed as a guardian – instead of sleeping on the row of chairs that I was instructed to put in a line just inside the door to block entry. It was assumed that I’d stretch out and sleep there, or at least doze. It was, as I recall, the only way in or out of the room, so any thief would need to fall over me to get in. Sleep? I wasn’t even comfortable enough to doze very often. So I left a light on and read. The book with me was Downbelow Station.
When the event was over, the first thing I did was finish reading that book. Afterward, I recommended it so often I drove a few friends to distraction. (The tables were turned, a couple of years later, when one of these friends discovered Startide Rising by David Brin, and just would not stop talking about it.) Only a few months passed before I read it again, when in 1982, it won the Hugo Award for best novel. I was enormously pleased to see that a book that had hooked me so solidly took top honors that year.
In the decades since, the period during which I was so active as a fan has become a source of (mostly) pleasant memories. Except for participation as an author guest at local Tucson and Phoenix conventions, and a WesterCon held in Tempe a few years ago, I’ve left that part of my life behind. Rereading this particular Hugo Winner brought that time back to life for me, even as I enjoyed rediscovering the book that turned an interest in an author’s work into something more like admiration. Science fiction has seen few authors who have been as prolific, or produced such consistently fine work. And fewer still that I follow to the extent of buying and reading every book, as soon as it’s available. Downbelow Station found in me a reader, and turned me into a fan.
TusCon 50, November 10, 11, 12, 2023. Tucson, Arizona.
Friday, Nov. 10th
I will, indeed, be a participant in this year’s TusCon event. Below you will find my official schedule. In between these times, to quote the wizard, expect me when you see me.
No official functions on day one. I’ll be here and there, attending the odd panel discussion (the odder they are the more likely you’ll find me there). Also likely to be in the vicinity of the Dealer’s Room, where Mostly Books will have some of my books available for sale.
Unfortunately, the one thing I’m not doing this year is setting up a telescope. There’s apparently no place to do so at this location.
Saturday, Nov. 11th
Autograph Session #1
11:00 am to 12:00 pm at the designated Autograph Area, in the company of fellow participants Curt Booth, J.L. Doty, Mona Ventress, William Herr, and Robert Kurtzman. I’ll sign books, program guides, and the free stuff I’ll have with me. Almost anything that will take the ink from a ball point pen. I draw the line at body parts that require public disrobing. Don’t go there.
Kill your darlings. How do you keep character death meaningful?
In the Ballroom from 3:00 pm to 4:00 pm. “There are good ways to kill your characters. And there are bad ways to kill your characters. Come learn some of the best ways to kill your characters.” That’s how the program guide describes this one. So come and learn how writers kill, and why. In a fictional sense, I mean. Don’t be afraid, we won’t hurt anyone. Promise. Sharing this panel with Diana Terrill Clark, Marsheila Rockwell, Yvonne Navarro, Frankie Robertson, and Cynthia Ward.
Getting to Know your Characters.
In Panel Room #1 from 8:00 pm to 9:00 pm. From the program guide, “Who is your hero really? Does he vibe at all with the person you think he’s going to hook up with in the 3rd act? And why is he opposing your villain? And speaking of your villain…” Some insights into how we create the characters that populate our fiction. How we make these imaginary people seem real? And why do we need that resemblance is coincidental caveat at the beginnings of our books? In the company of Catherine Wells, Jay Smith, and William Herr.
Sunday, Nov. 12th
Thomas Watson Reading
In Panel Room #2 from 10:00 am to 11:00 am. No, you will not be sitting in a room watching me read. That would be weird. I’ll be reading something out loud. Something I wrote, of course. Could be almost anything, really. After more than ten years of writing and publishing fiction, there’s certainly plenty to choose from. And that’s a thought that makes this author smile.
Under Desert Stars 