Friday, June 25, 2004
Spin State
Last night, we discussed Spin State at the Bloomington, Indiana Science Fiction Discussion Group, of which I am the President for life ;-). For most books, it feels like some people end up loving the book, and some people end up hating it. (There are a few books, perhaps a handful, that "everyone" loves—Hyperion and A Fire Upon the Deep come to mind. That can change over time—but I'll get to that shortly.)
Anyway, we know each other fairly well and are very comfortable with each other in this setting, so people don't hesitate to shout, interrupt, and make fun of each other's comments (though in a good-natured way ;-).
I didn't care for Spin State. Last night, the main complaints I gave were that
This morning it occurs to me that I have a couple other problems with the book that arguably had a bigger impact on me:
Now, for me, item #1 immediately above is deadly—if I go in to something with high expectations, then I tend to become very critical, and if I find flaws, I tend to be scathing about them. I'm not alone in this; I think that much of the negative reaction the movie-reviewing-industrial complex had to the Star Wars prequels was for the same reason. Also, Ignacio, my second-in-command at the SFDG, had a strongly negative response to A Fire Upon the Deep when he read it a few years after the rest of us, and I'm sure that was at least partly due to the wild praise the rest of us heaped on the book.
Only a very few things can live up to my elevated expectations—and when I find something that does, like Donnie Darko, I usually fall in love with it. Indeed, Donnie Darko is probably the film I like best of all the ones released in the 21st century so far.
But deadly as #1 is, #2 is even deadlier.
I made a comment about this at the SFDG meeting when we discussed Riddley Walker—I think the phrase I used was "The Politics of Prose". Basically, I believe that clear communication is usually the best thing an artist should strive for. This is partly why I love Sir Arthur C. Clarke's prose style—other members of the SFDG tend to say that Clarke is a bad stylist, but I think he's one of the best in Science Fiction. I think his style is incredibly elegant; on a line-by-line basis, he doesn't waste words, and when he does put in an occasional flourish, it stands out all the more. When the SFDG discussed Rendezvous with Rama, the meeting was "run" by one of the biggest fans of Riddley Walker (he brought the book back into print), and I remember him saying repeatedly that Clarke was a bad writer because Clarke's style was pedestrian and there was no characterization in the book. I think I asked him more than once how could such a bad writer have given all of us such a clear and vivid and detailed mental picture of the interior of Rama? I don't think John ever answered that.
Don't get me wrong—I don't think that John is "wrong" to dislike Clarke's style (though I think he is wrong to imply that it shows a lack of literary polish or ability on Clarke's part). All I mean is that some people like prose that "challenges" the reader to follow the story and figure out what is going on, and some people like prose that makes it all clear. I'm definitely in the second camp. (Though, of course, there are some writers I adore who don't strive for absolute clarity—James Tiptree, Jr. comes to mind, and there is nothing wrong with her writing.) I tend to view obfuscatory prose as, well, obfuscatory prose. If you've got a story to tell, tell it plainly. If you're going to pull a fast one on the reader, you can do it by making the story so muddled that the reader can't keep track of what's going on (e.g., Spin State)—or you can tell what seems like a perfectly straightforward story and only later make the reader realize the story is completely different from what they thought it was. My favorite example of the latter is Dan Simmons's Hyperion—and it's still the highest-rated book we've ever discussed in the SFDG.
Anyway, we know each other fairly well and are very comfortable with each other in this setting, so people don't hesitate to shout, interrupt, and make fun of each other's comments (though in a good-natured way ;-).
I didn't care for Spin State. Last night, the main complaints I gave were that
- It's incredibly bloated (last night, I said something like, "There's an excellent 250-page novel struggling to get out of this [477-page] mess.")
- There are too many characters who I couldn't tell apart from each other.
- The style, on a line-by-line basis, put me to sleep.
This morning it occurs to me that I have a couple other problems with the book that arguably had a bigger impact on me:
- Early praise of the book on our mailing list made me go in with very high expectations.
- I found it a real struggle just to keep track of what was happening—the book seemed very unclear to me.
Now, for me, item #1 immediately above is deadly—if I go in to something with high expectations, then I tend to become very critical, and if I find flaws, I tend to be scathing about them. I'm not alone in this; I think that much of the negative reaction the movie-reviewing-industrial complex had to the Star Wars prequels was for the same reason. Also, Ignacio, my second-in-command at the SFDG, had a strongly negative response to A Fire Upon the Deep when he read it a few years after the rest of us, and I'm sure that was at least partly due to the wild praise the rest of us heaped on the book.
Only a very few things can live up to my elevated expectations—and when I find something that does, like Donnie Darko, I usually fall in love with it. Indeed, Donnie Darko is probably the film I like best of all the ones released in the 21st century so far.
But deadly as #1 is, #2 is even deadlier.
I made a comment about this at the SFDG meeting when we discussed Riddley Walker—I think the phrase I used was "The Politics of Prose". Basically, I believe that clear communication is usually the best thing an artist should strive for. This is partly why I love Sir Arthur C. Clarke's prose style—other members of the SFDG tend to say that Clarke is a bad stylist, but I think he's one of the best in Science Fiction. I think his style is incredibly elegant; on a line-by-line basis, he doesn't waste words, and when he does put in an occasional flourish, it stands out all the more. When the SFDG discussed Rendezvous with Rama, the meeting was "run" by one of the biggest fans of Riddley Walker (he brought the book back into print), and I remember him saying repeatedly that Clarke was a bad writer because Clarke's style was pedestrian and there was no characterization in the book. I think I asked him more than once how could such a bad writer have given all of us such a clear and vivid and detailed mental picture of the interior of Rama? I don't think John ever answered that.
Don't get me wrong—I don't think that John is "wrong" to dislike Clarke's style (though I think he is wrong to imply that it shows a lack of literary polish or ability on Clarke's part). All I mean is that some people like prose that "challenges" the reader to follow the story and figure out what is going on, and some people like prose that makes it all clear. I'm definitely in the second camp. (Though, of course, there are some writers I adore who don't strive for absolute clarity—James Tiptree, Jr. comes to mind, and there is nothing wrong with her writing.) I tend to view obfuscatory prose as, well, obfuscatory prose. If you've got a story to tell, tell it plainly. If you're going to pull a fast one on the reader, you can do it by making the story so muddled that the reader can't keep track of what's going on (e.g., Spin State)—or you can tell what seems like a perfectly straightforward story and only later make the reader realize the story is completely different from what they thought it was. My favorite example of the latter is Dan Simmons's Hyperion—and it's still the highest-rated book we've ever discussed in the SFDG.
