My Hugo Nominations for Best Novel

Working on program for Renovation really cut into my reading time, but since September, I’ve been starting to catch up -- at least enough to nominate for the Hugos. I particularly made an effort to read some highly-regarded novels, but I also read a few of the major short story anthologies. (And now I need to read the magazines I’ve been piling up for two years.)

A month ago, based on my reading at that point, I’d have called it an OK year for novels, with a couple of strong choices, but certainly not more than that. But over the last two weeks, I’ve read three very good novels, which will be on my ballot, so I’d now call it a good year. Though two of my nominees are actually from 2010, eligible based on the extended eligibility rule that gives works not published in the US in their initial year of publication extra time.

Alastair Reynold’s Terminal World is another very strong work from Reynolds. It’s a hard SF story and an adventure story (with parts that even have a steampunk feel). It takes place on a remarkable world (the secret behind which is part of the conclusion, so I won’t go into much detail), and the world itself is one of the novel’s great strengths. But it also achieves much of its power by refusing to be tied down: every time you think you know what kind of novel you’re reading and where it’s going, it changes direction and does something new. It starts in an environment that is somewhat reminiscent of Vinge’s zones of thought: a city built on an ascending area, where the technology possible varies depending upon where you are -- from sophisticated computer technology at the top, down through 20th century, then Victorian, and finally to really primitive areas. As characters are forced to descend, gear they are carrying stops working. But at this point, when you are sure you now know what kind of novel you’re in, it changes, as the characters travel across planet, running into various people and cultures, reminiscent in its way of the works of Jack Vance (Big Planet, for example). This happens several times. All in all, it’s a great story, and leads to a satisfying conclusion (though one that leaves it open for more).

In The Quantum Thief, Hannu Rajaniemi creates a post-singularity post-human future where the lines between physical and virtual blur. Advanced technology allows people to appear any way they want, to exchange (or hide) any information, to communicate by actually sharing memories. As the story starts, the main character, a thief and conman, is imprisoned in a “dilemma prison,” where copies of himself re-enact the prisoner’s dilemma countless times. He is rescued by a mysterious woman who, along with her sentient space craft, draft him into a quest in exchange for his freedom. The plot, while interesting enough to carry the reader along, is secondary to the setting. Rajaniemi has created a future as complex and as strange as much of the best of Stross. This was a very impressive first novel, and I’m looking forward to more from him.

The Children of the Sky is Vernor Vinge’s sequel to his classic A Fire Upon the Deep. It picks up where that books left off: with the humans who had stopped the Blight stranded on the tines’ planet. The novel mostly focuses on the struggles between humans and tines, tines and other tines, and amongst the humans themselves. Many of the children were still in cold sleep when the Blight was defeated, and question the history told to them. After all, that history tells them that their parents had made the dreadful mistake of releasing the Blight, and that the people they were now with had done something to strand them on this backward planet. The natures of the various conflicts explore a number of issues, but perhaps the most interesting part of book involves the choir: the huge group mind found in the jungle areas, and believed by civilized tines to be stupid: complex thought, they believe, isn’t possible with that many members of a collective. All their evidence shows that, in their own society, when two tine individuals (usually made up of 4 to 6 of the dog-like aliens) gets to close to another, thought breaks down. And they are right -- and wrong. Vinge explores issues of the emergence of intelligence, as well as what does and does not make a “person.” This is a very good book, and its only real “flaw” that it’s not quite as good as its predecessor (but since A Fire Upon the Deep is one of the best SF novels of the past 25 years, very few things are).

China Mieville’s Embassytown is perhaps the closest thing he’s written to the new space opera. In a far future interstellar society, humans have established an outpost on a planet whose intelligent inhabitants, the Ariekei, speak with two voices -- and who don’t even understand what comes from a single voice as communication . So human ambassadors are pairs of people who are able to communicate as one. But the issue of Language (as the Ariekei language is referred to as) go deeper than that. For the Ariekei, Language and thought are tied together, such that Language is a direct representation of reality: the concept of lying is not only unknown but virtually impossible. A few Ariekei are trying to approach lying via simile, which they externalize with the help of humans. The main human character, Avice, acts out and becomes a simile for them. All of this is setup for a complicated plot that explores the nature of communication and thought but also comments on the imperialism of the interstellar culture. It’s another very good book from an author who continues to expand his range.

Finally, Jo Walton’s Among Others is a joy to read. Mor, a young, unpopular Welsh girl, sent away to boarding school (in England), keeps herself going by reading science fiction and fantasy. She has an injured leg and thus can’t participate in sports, which contributes to her being unpopular, but also gives her time to read as much as many of us would like to. She eventually finds other SF readers, and even plans to go to an Eastercon. The book is delightful, and it’s made me want to re-read a lot of Delany, Le Guin, Tiptree, Zelazny and others that Mor talks about. What makes it a fantasy is that Mor can see fairies, and also has some magical abilities. She’s avoiding her insane mother, who tried to use magic to become a “dark queen” (and Mor of course makes the appropriate Tolkien reference), who was defeated only by the efforts of Mor and her now-dead twin sister, with the help of the fairies. But all of this is really a secondary part of the novel: the real focus is the story of Mor growing up, coping, and essentially becoming an SF fan.

The above five novels are what I nominated. Also deserving of some consideration are the next chapters in two very good ongoing fantasy series: George Martin’s A Dance with Dragons and Patrick Rothfuss’s The Wise Man’s Fear. Both are well done, and I thought about both for the ballot. But both -- particularly the Martin -- are also parts of a larger work, and don’t stand on their own. Trying to read A Dance with Dragons without having read the previous books would be close to impossible. And this makes it a bit harder, when evaluating the book in hand, to decide whether it’s award worth. But that being said, both are well worth reading. And Scott Westerfield’s Goliath, a satisfying conclusion to his YA steampunk series, is also a fun read.

Finally, I’ll note that there are several things I really want to read that I haven’t yet read (such as the latest Charlie Stross novel). But I will read anything that does make the ballot before voting.