Used Books Blog

Wasp by Eric Frank Russell is the first in what I’m calling a Retro Review. These are books that I’ve read in the past instead of recently and are most likely older books that aren’t currently in popular circulation. I’m also using the cover art for the edition I have on my bookshelf. Thank you to the Denver Science Fiction & Fantasy Book Club from which I sourced this image.

The artwork was a big reason why I picked this out ages ago when I was in my teens. My dad had - still has - a large collection of science-fiction paperbacks in the basement. So, when I wanted something to read I’d go down and leaf through the musty books looking for something interesting. I’d often look for some of the names I’d come to rely upon: Heinlein, Laumer, Aldiss. But I could also be persuaded by a cool looking cover. Wasp was appealing (particularly the finger print font) and the quick teaser got me to open up the book and trudge up the stairs to start reading.

Wasp is about “intergalactic guerrilla warfare” and is based on the idea that small things can have big effects. The analogy is about how a wasp, “under half an ounce … killed four big men and converted a large, powerful car into a heap of scrap.” Furrowing your brow on that one? The scenario is that the driver is stung by a wasp and loses control of the car and crashes.

We follow James Mowry - reluctant hero - who is recruited as a wasp in the war between Terra and the Sirian Empire. Mowry is dropped on the planet Jaimec after undergoing training and surgery to blend into the humanoid Sirian population. What transpires next is a taut, but darkly comic look at psychological warfare.

After 9/11 and with terrorism such a buzz word, Wasp has been revived, discussed and debated. I’ve read Wasp twice and just can’t get myself lathered up about it being too close to home. Newly minted critics feel it’s a bad example. The thing is, most of what Mowry does is psychological warfare and not outright terrorism. Mowry creates a mythical rebel organization, places stickers and decals on storefronts, writes menacing letters and places fake wire-tapping devices in high-profile government buildings.

Wasp is about how to use communications to create paranoia and fear. In that way, I find it extremely relevant and interesting. But to tell the truth, each time I’ve read Wasp I simply fell into a reverie of rooting for David against Goliath while marveling and chuckling at the way in which Mowry went about his business. Russell’s Wasp is far more like reading one of Laumer’s Retief novels - a fun, yet intelligent, winking at the reader space opera.

It’s only after enjoying the tight plot line and too cool Mowry that you might connect the dots to present day geopolitics.

If you’re looking for shiny-happy science-fiction then I suggest you pass by Market Forces and Richard K. Morgan all together. On the other hand, if you like dark science fiction with an edge, aren’t afraid of a bit of blood here a bit of sex there, then Richard K. Morgan should be right up your alley. Morgan is, in many ways, an updated Philip K. Dick - which is a huge compliment in my book. Now granted, he doesn’t have the legacy yet, and hopefully Richard won’t be eating cat food or going bonkers like Dick, but … his work is sometimes very similar.

In Market Forces, Morgan merges geo-political globalisation (he’s British so I figure I’ll use the ’s’ instead of the ‘z’) and class warfare issues with Mad Max driving action sequences. Morgan’s characters are always honest in their duality, of doing bad for the sake of good, or simply doing bad and acknowledging that it’s what has to happen. Now mind you, sometimes you get the hint of real politics being throw about, but it’s light enough for me not to notice or not to care. That’s how early Tom Clancy read for me versus the late Clancy which just feels like some political pamphlet dressed up in plot and military tech specs.

There is a bit of fun melodrama here and there in Market Forces as well as interesting vignettes about the corporate world and what it takes to survive and thrive. It’s bleak, it’s powerful and it’s a great read. If you’re a student of what makes books or scripts great it is the idea that someone has to change, has a decision to make and that’s just the case in Market Forces. Chris Faulkner has a decision to make as his life intensifies and careers out of control. His decision seems linked to some … truism. It’s this central theme that keeps you wanting to read to the end, and it’s an ending you’ll want to read. No doubt about that.

Men and Cartoons is a collection of short stories from Jonathan Lethem, which ranges from science fiction to surrealism to literary works. Lethem’s imagination is on bold display and you can see links to his earlier works like Gun with Occasional Music or Amnesia Moon. Some of these stories seem more mature, more layered and more … eerie. Mind you, Lethem has always had an intriguing dark side to his work, but these stories seem just a shade darker than his others.

The abrupt Access Fantasy, strange Super Goat Man and surreal The Dystopianist stand out to me as the highlights to the collection. Though nearly all the stories, upon inspecting the contents, bring back some sort of emotion or mood. So while I likely would recommend Lethem’s other short story collection (The Wall of the Sky, the Wall of the Eye) before this, it’s a pleasure to see Lethem return to these quirky worlds instead of working within the realm of the pseudo-real. I loved Motherless Brooklyn and was luke warm on Fortress of Solitude. However, both were real life stories and for me, Lethem’s genius is still better expressed through science fiction and other surreal genres.

This is certainly the best book I’ve read in 2007. And I can’t keep it out of my head, it keeps leeching back into my conscious mind, insinuating itself into my thoughts as a reference point. This is the first David Mitchell book I’ve read. I purchased it on Alibris after reading up on it on LibraryThing. Though not stated, I received a signed copy which I now treasure given my affection for the book. I’ve since purchased all of Mitchell’s books and have them in queue for reading in the near future.

In less skilled hands, the structure of the book would likely have been a distraction. Mitchell handles it with ease and leads readers from a long-ago era, to modern day, to the future and then, stepping backwards, complees each story in turn. The writing is fantastic with slight echoes from other works like Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood or an updated version of Asimov’s Rise of the Robots.

The genius of this novel is the structure, storytelling and language. There are six very distinct stories, ranging from Adam Ewing’s South Pacific travails to a post-apocalyptic landscape on what seems like a Hawaiian island. They are strung together from past to present to future and back again. Stepping away from the story, the structure is really and truly amazing. A narrative palindrome of sorts.

In each of these stories there is a unique voice and in many cases a totally different language altogether. I’m reminded of Burrough’s Nova Express or A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. Mitchell invents language in some cases and falls into the cadence of long ago eras during others. Despite these ‘gimmicks’ the stories are all compelling.

The stories do connect to some degree, but not directly in most cases. However, the overarching tone, content and theme of each is consistent. Mitchell explores loyalty, power, love and man’s place in his own world. Sure you’ve read about these things before, but never like this. Read Cloud Atlas and become a David Mitchell fan.