Posts Tagged ‘Arthur C. Clarke’

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Oh dear. Oh, poor Dan Brown. Poor, incredibly rich and famous Dan Brown.

It seems that you have become a parody of yourself. But, as an aspiring writer, I thank you. I can look at my writing and yours and think…. “If Dan Brown can get that published, I must have a decent chance!”

Let’s be frank and open upfront: I read and enjoyed this as a half-term read. In the same way that I might enjoy a MacDonalds. Neither are good for me but they give a childish comfort. And I have read all of Dan Brown’s previous work: his earlier novels were fresher and more lively than this one perhaps. I wonder whether Brown’s success has gone to his head, or whether he is struggling to live up to the pressure created by The Da Vinci Code. Either way, his more recent books have become downright silly in places.

The Brown formula is in full force once again: exotic and foreign location, check; a murder of a friend, check; a beautiful woman accompanying Robert Langdon through various locations, check; a suspiciously helpful ally, check; twist at the end which anyone with half a brain cell would have anticipated 25 pages in, check; references to art, check; self-aggrandisement of Langdon, check; a series of fatuous ‘clues’, check.

The basic scenario is that Langdon’s erstwhile pupil and friend, Edmund Kirsch, has uncovered a scientific breakthrough which will undermine all religions and just as he is about to reveal it in the Guggenheim Museum, he is assassinated. Langdon helps the authorities by fleeing with Ambra Vidal, the museum’s director and fiancée to the Prince of Spain. Dodgy churches, suspicious machinations, looming royal security.

And – oh god! – the dialogue. It is just awfully written! Allow me to drop in a small sample here:langdon

Let it go.

Oh God.

At least there is one moment of genius here: Dan Brown must have been told that dialogue is not his main strength, that his characters sound robotic and unconvincing, so in this novel one of the main ‘characters’ is Winston, an Artificial Intelligence who guides and assists Langdon and who is robotic and… well… unconvincing. Have you seen 2001, A Space Odyssey, or The Terminator or I, Robot? Trust me, so has Dan Brown. Not convinced he’s read Asimov et al, but he has seen those films.

And what is it with his obsession with numbers? Never has my understanding or appreciation of a book been assisted by knowing exactly which model of gun, car or plane I’m looking at, nor it’s engine horsepower statistics, nor the precise measurements of a room. Seriously, “vast”, “cavernous”, “cosy” or “cramped” would do! There are almost more numbers in this books than words. Writers are told repeatedly, “Show don’t tell.” Brown never shows and tells oh so badly! Delay information to create suspense, that’s another piece of advice I give students… and Brown does that, but does it so clumsily it’s almost painful to read!

And the biggest problem with the novel? The eventual “reveal” of the discovery which will destroy all religion and which we, as readers, are meant to believe would prompt religious leaders to arrange the assassination is just so weak!

The plus points: mindlessly entertaining if you overlook the writing; better than Inferno, the fallout of which is not even mentioned even though Langdon’s other previous adventures are referenced.

And the true tragedy? Tom Hanks may be contractually bound to present this on screen.

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Railhead-Philip-Reeve

This is a delightfully fun and engaging tale with all the confidence you’d expect of Phillip Reeve, returning to the steampunk genre, if in a very different world, of Mortal Engines.

Here, rather than walking cities, we have sentient trains and K-gates – wormholes or portals, taking trains and their passengers instantly to different worlds and different planets – androids who may or may not be sentient, AIs who may or may not be divine, street urchins and renegade consciousnesses and hive monks. It is a richly imagined and realised world, only a brief fragment of which we see but with enough detail and verve to make the rest imaginable. A word which exists but which ever impedes the cracking pace Reeve creates.

The story follows Zen Starling, the aforementioned street urchin, fulfilling every child’s fantasy role: a meagre existence, relying on his hard working sister and occasional thefts, is transformed when he meets Nova and her employer Raven who reveal that he is actually a lost scion of the ruling Noon family and employ him to infiltrate their train to steal a valuable item. As is not-unexpected, an item whose value is more than financial: a powerful and dangerous artefact within the world created by Reeve.

On the surface, this is a fairly traditional heist tale: various exploits by Zen and Nova lead to them infiltrating the train and they steal the artefact; when abandoned by Raven and learning more about it, they cobble together a revenge heist to steal it back.

There is however, a real humanity in this book and sympathy, albeit generally directed at the non-human characters: the beautiful and  tender trains bearing tags and art with pride and the motoriks, robots and droids with ore soul than R2-D2 or C3PO. And Phillip Reeve is not scared to give the reader shocks: the fate of the sentient trains destroyed (killed?) in the heist and the fate of Nova and, even more so, the tagger Flex were genuinely shocking and moving in a young adult book. 

Reeves gives a nod to a number of classic and popular examples of the science fiction genre from  Blade Runner to Dune to Stargate with touches of Arthur C. Clarke. 

I hear rumours that this is the first of a trilogy and I hope that’s true because it’s a thoroughly enjoyable and thrilling ride