Showing posts with label Vorkosigan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vorkosigan. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2011

2011 Hugo Nominee: Novel - CRYOBURN by Lois McMaster Bujold


This is something like the twelfth or fourteenth Vorkosigan book (depending on how you count it). There have been four or five novellas in there as well. Three of those books (and a novella!) won Hugos in the 90s, but the last win was in 1995, and the last nomination in 2000. It’s a real challenge to keep a series going this long; I can’t say that I’ve ever read a book past the tenth in a series that still engaged me as much as the early volumes (though I can’t name many series I’ve read that far in). So, imagine my surprise when I found that one of my favorite books in the Vorkasigan series came in this later period.

Unfortuantely, that book was not Cryoburn, it was Komarr, which was not nominated for a Hugo when it was eligible in 1999. Yes, I did read the intervening books since Hugo-winner Mirror Dance, and I did get some enjoyment out of the experience. The books move star Miles Vorkosigan from his position as an undercover mercenary and into a position as a powerful diplomat, beginning with the bloated Memory. The plots remain on the pulpy side of the suspension of disbelief continuum (someone should count how many times Miles has escaped capture by his enemies), but the move away from military plotlines was a welcome change. Komarr and A Civil Campaign blend an off-beat love story with some espionage intrigue. Bujold avoids a lot of clichés by making Miles’ love interest Ekatrin a single mother coming out of a disastrous failed marriage, and the relationship feels mature and believable (despite the fact, maybe because of the fact, that Miles frets like a lovesick fifteen-year-old during the courtship). Both books have nice, straightforward plots, though A Civil Campaign has some silly, lame hijinks with Miles’s clone Mark. I can barely tell you what Diplomatic Immunity was about, even though I read it a couple of weeks ago (I do remember that it featured the quaddies from Nebula winner Falling Free), which tells you more-or-less how I felt about that one.

Cryoburn seems to be in the same category as that previous entry, so I better write this out quickly while it’s still fresh. We begin in media res with a confused Miles escaping, as he so often does, from a kidnapping attempt. We soon learn that he’s on the world of Kibou, which is dominated by a small cohort of powerful cryonics corporations with eyes on the Barrayaran colony of Komarr. Miles investigates in typical Miles fashion, throwing his weight around, getting in over his head, breaking some local laws, befriending innocent children, scheming with his clone, and generally overcoming every obstacle in his way with supernatural ease. It’s all stuff we’ve seen before. Bujold usually does a good job of mixing in some biotech ethics questions in with her pulp space opera, and cyronics is an interesting topic, but we don’t get too far into the problems of life-extension, and the main problem seems to be simple corporate greed.

There is an event at the very end (on the very last two or three pages) that keeps the book from being completely forgettable and immaterial to Miles’s life. It’s a bit of a shock, despite some subtle foreshadowing, and Bujold relates it in a very interesting way. I can’t quite decide if Bujold made a mistake by sidelining the main event, or if it’s kind of brilliant, but I think those pages alone kept this book from getting a C+ from me. Either way, this is a weaker entry in a series that probably has more than its fair share of Hugos as it is.

Grade: B-

Monday, February 28, 2011

1995 Hugo and Locus – MIRROR DANCE by Lois McMaster Bujold


The third and final winner from Bujold’s Vorkasigan books, and the series continues to walk the tightrope between ridiculous pulp and smart, character-driven work, though this one tilts more towards the latter pole than any book in the series yet.

Since we last saw him, Miles Vorkasigan has picked up an evil clone, “Mark.” No, seriously. Created by enemies of Miles’ father, the clone has been brutally trained for assassination and infiltration. In the previous novel, he rebels against his creator. In this novel, he goes on a crusade against the amoral cloning syndicate that created him with disastrous results for Miles and his crew of mercenaries. Once again, you really need to read the previous books in the series to appreciate this one, especially Brothers in Arms, which introduces Mark.

This novel is meatier than the previous winners in the series, and I do think Bujold is trying to do some different things here. Most importantly, Miles is sidelined for most of the book. The novels’ voice has almost always been third-person limited with a narrow focus on Miles himself, but here, the focus shifts to Mark for more than half of the novel. It’d be easy to call Miles a “Mary Sue” – his talents for tactics and manipulation are pretty supernatural. Mark, on the other hand, is doubting, socially awkward, tormented, and a little insane. It is a change of pace from Miles, and this novel is far darker than previous entries (as usual, central characters are captured by the villains, but this time we get vicious torture alongside the usual villain posturing and improbable escape).

The idea of a clone does feel like the corniest of pulp science fiction tropes, even though it’s probably the most realistic sf concept. I think it’s because they always tend to pop out of a vat fully grown and are innately evil, have a psychic link to the original or both, which is all very silly. Clones should be a great way to explore ideas of family and identity, and that’s, for the most part, the direction that Bujold takes here. However, she’s more interested in Mark’s identity, as he is doomed to live under the shadow of the uber-awesome Miles. It’s an excellent opportunity for Bujold to do the character work she does so well.

My biggest issue is probably with the pacing. There’s a thrilling, breathless action sequence early on, then a very long section on Barrayar with Miles’ family, lacking in the usual political intrigue, and it all ends in a bit of an anti-climax. But, Bujold’s prose is a pleasure to read, as usual, and she does try some interesting and new things here.

The Vorkosigan series doesn’t really feel like it should be the Hugo-winningest series of all time, but it is a fun experience, and the character-based adventures are a nice change of pace from the Big Idea books that tend to dominate the Hugos. This is the best entry in the series so far, and the most deserving of prestigious awards.

Grade: B+

Sunday, January 23, 2011

1992 Hugo and Locus – BARRAYAR by Lois McMaster Bujold


For only the second time in Hugo history, an author wins back-to-back in the novel category. And, as with last time (Ender’s), it’s for books in the same series. This is a prequel of sorts to The Vor Game, and it fills in some important gaps in the chronology (as I mentioned before, I’m reading the Vorkosigan books in internal chronological order, and I’m not sure they’d make as much sense in publication order).

The main focus this time is the birth of Miles, and his mother, Cordelia, is the central character. She’s recently moved to the semi-feudal planet of Barrayar from the more democratic and higher tech Beta Colony, and she’s married Count Aral Vorkosigan, who is serving as Regent for the 4-year-old emperor. Most of the novel centers around her interactions with the complicated and often bloody politics of the planet. There are duels, political rivalries, and the threat of civil war. A lot of time is also given over to relationships within the Vorkosigan household, especially three of the family bodyguards. It’s very character-centered. In fact, it would translate very easily to a fantasy setting (with its romance, court intrigues, and loyal retainers), except for some of the material dealing with Miles’ troubled birth.

Bujold’s prose is strong with some very nice moments, and Cordelia is a very likable character. The plot can go a little over-the-top – there’s a daring raid near the end that really should not have gone as well as it did, for instance – and the characters can be a tad too wonderful and loving, but it’s a fun experience. And, the crazy action and ultra-perfect characters are dialed down a bit from The Vor Game.

It also deals with slightly deeper themes than The Vor Game. Miles’ disability slid into the background in that action novel, but here, the question of whether the damaged fetus should even be brought into the world is foregrounded. The prejudices in Barrayaran society depicted here lead to very interesting conflicts that clearly overshadow Miles' life to come. And, Bujold’s portrayal of Cordelia as a dedicated mother felt real in some very unreal circumstances. Honestly, the character work was so strong that I didn’t even need the action sequences that dominate the novel’s third act.

Grade: B+

Monday, January 10, 2011

1991 Hugo – THE VOR GAME by Lois McMaster Bujold


We now get a string of Hugo novel wins for Bujold’s Vorkasigan saga. I’m reading the series in internal chronological order, in which case this is actually the fourth novel. It’s the seventh by publication order. If I had to sum up the series so far in one word, it would be: ridiculous. But, I’ll come back to that in a minute.

This is the same universe as Bujold’s Nebula-winning Falling Free. There are several human-colonized worlds connected by wormholes. The wormholes are subject to blockade or collapse, and the planets are isolated enough to develop their own cultures and governments. The novels mostly center on Barrayar, a cold planet with an aristocratic, military-oriented culture (there’s a bit of a Russian flavor that’s reflected in some of the place names as well). The “Vor” in question are the aristocrats, whose family names all begin with “Vor” and who spend most of their time in deadly political maneuvers against each other. Aral Vorkosigan is a war hero, former Regent for the young Emperor, and current Prime Minister. His son Miles was wounded in an assassination attempt while still a fetus; he has extremely brittle bones and a somewhat misshapen body. The warrior society of Barrayar is highly prejudiced against people with such physical deformities.

This entry in the series finds Miles graduating from military academy. Despite his physical limitations, Miles is a phenomenal strategist and leader, but his intelligence and strong will can be detriments in regimented military life. Miles is given a six month assignment in Arctic exile to prove he’s a team player; he fails miserably when it turns out that his commanding officer is a murderous brute. He’s then exiled to an off-planet intelligence mission, which also goes spectacularly wrong, this time with massive interplanetary implications.

So, it’s ridiculous. I had a very hard time with suspension of disbelief in this volume, as we get a series of *extremely* contrived chance meetings with old allies and enemies. Apparently, it’s a small galaxy, as Miles ends up thrown in a prison cell with someone very important and familiar to him, despite being light years from their mutual home. And, of course, Miles overcomes astounding obstacles, including multiple imprisonments and devious villains, to triumph fantastically in the end. It’s much in line with the previous volume, Warrior's Apprentice, in which Miles built a large and incredibly successful mercenary army with a few simple deceptions.

If you don’t take the plot contrivances too seriously, however, it is very fun space opera. It’s vintage action in much the same way that Star Wars is, and even the oddly-twisting plot manages to give it a sort of serialized feel. Light-hearted space opera action doesn’t win a lot of Hugos though (I think Ringworld was the last example, though Downbelow Station is close). Is there more to this series? Miles’ disabilities do add some depth, especially in a work like “The Mountains of Mourning” in which Miles must investigate the infanticide of a child with a less debilitating disability than his own (it won the 1990 best novella Hugo). There’s not as much of that depth here, other than some discussion of power and responsibility. But, Bujold’s writing is crisp, her characters are well-developed, and it’s a fun read. Maybe, sometimes, that’s enough.

I should also add that you really do need the context of the previous novels (at least Warrior’s Apprentice but preferably all three) to get into this one.

Grade: B+