OK, so how is N.K. Jemisin's Broken Earth series?

[SlackerInc]

@Darren_Garrison

Also, FWIW, when discussing Hugo results you have to take into account the voting system. You don’t vote for one winner, you make a ranked list of the order you would like the books to win. If you look at the PDF I linked in post #3, only 770 out of 2828 voters ranked Stone Sky as their first choice for winning. That just happened to be the one with the most (Collapsing Empire was second with 406.) So around a quarter of the voters put Stone Sky as their favorite book of the six choices–if it is a conspiracy, it is a pretty weak one. The official Hugos site has PDFs breaking down the voting results for other years, too, if you want to look at them.

Interesting system. Problem is that it sounds like it awards the prize to the author no one is mad at, or whom everyone feels they should be nice to even if it’s not their favorite.

@Exapno_Mapcase

The Hugos started in 1953. It’s hard to believe today but fantasy was almost never published in the 1950s. That happened both to be a down period for it just as sf had been given a huge boost by the atomic bomb and rockets used in WWII. Not until after college students found Tolkien in the 60s and Lester and Judy-Lynn del Rey founded Del Rey books in 1977 did it start on the four-decade upward course that saw it become a viable commercial genre that now overwhelms science fiction.

That’s an interesting and concise story, and—I must say—a sad one for me at least. I’ve never liked reading fantasy (tried Tolkien and quickly gave up), and the only fantasy in any medium I’ve ever liked is “Game of Thrones” (I walked out of the first LOTR movie halfway through).

My eldest son, however, loves fantasy—or at least, he did (now he’s more into anime). He was really into Brandon Sanderson and of course Tolkien.

Anyway, I guess I’m happy for the fantasy fans that their genre has gotten so big. But can’t they have their own award? Or can’t we who like hard SF have one? I don’t think they belong together at all, any more than having an award for the “best mystery or romance novel”, something like that.

@Exapno_Mapcase

How do you know this when you stopped after the prologue?

What do you mean? Because she was already doing it in spades in that prologue! So if she knew this was not a good way to write, and stopped after the prologue, why didn’t she go back and change the prologue?

I mean, you sound like one of those people who says “They didn’t poll me, so I don’t believe in polls.”

But as I say: if someone wants to buy me one or all of these books, I promise to read the whole thing.

@Exapno_Mapcase

Yeah, what does Connie know about writing. Blackout was her eleventh Hugo Award (and seventh Nebula Award). Maybe she should have stopped after ten.

That’s pretty sad, if her other books are also written in that style (one that is, as I say, so retro that I doubt she adopted it late in her career).

I posted links before, but this time let’s compare some passages. First, Iain McDonald, who lost:

Ismet flung open a matching door across the dusty room. Colour flooded in and more than colour: a growing verdure of clipped box; the perfume of sun-warmed wood; the burble of water and the sudden song of birds. Ismet might have opened a door onto Paradise.
The garden was six paces across, but it contained a universe. A shady cloister walled with floral Iznik tiles ran around the courtyard affording shade or shelter in every season. The fountain was a single piece of sun-warmed marble, releasing water over a lily-lip into a basin. A jewel-bright lizard started from repose in the sun and dashed along the scalloped rim to vanish into the shade beneath. Herbaceous plants grew tall and cool in small box-bordered beds. The soil was dark and rich as chocolate. A green place. House martins dipped and bobbed along the eaves of the wooden gallery directly above the cloister. Their shrills filled the air. A copy of yesterday’s Cumhuriyetlay sun-yellowing on a marble bench.
“It’s all still here,” Ismet said. “The redevelopers never got around to the back. The old cells are being used for storage—we’ll clear them out.”
“Someone looks after this,” Necdet said. He could imagine himself here. He would come in the evening, when the light would fall over that roof onto that bench in a single pane of sun. He could sit and smoke blow. It would be a good place for a smoke.
“We’ll be all right here,” Ismet said, looking around at the overhanging balconies, the little rectangle of blue sky. “I’ll look after you.”

Very nice. Really paints a picture in the mind’s eye, and sets a mood.

Now, from the Connie Willis novel that won:

Mr. Dunworthy wasn’t there. The only two people who were were Badri and a pretty tech who didn’t look any older than the girls at school. They were both bent over the console. “I need the coordinates for October fourth, 1950,” Badri said. “And—what are you doing here, Colin? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

Why was everyone acting like a truant officer?

“You haven’t been sent down, have you?”

“No.” Not if they don’t catch me. “School holiday.”

“If you’re here to talk me into letting you go to the Crusades, the answer is no.”

“The Crusades?” Colin said. “That was years ago—”

“Does Mr. Dunworthy know you’re here?” Badri asked.

“Actually, I’m looking for him. The porter at Balliol told me he might be here.”

“He was,” the tech said. “You only just missed him.”

“Do you know where he was going?”

“No. You might try Wardrobe.”

“Wardrobe?” First Research and now Wardrobe. Mr. Dunworthy was obviously going somewhere. “Where is he going? St. Paul’s?”

“Yes,” the tech said. “He’s researching—”

“Linna, I need those coordinates,” Badri said, glaring at her. The tech nodded and went over to the other side of the lab.

“He’s going to St. Paul’s to rescue the treasures, isn’t he?” Colin asked Badri.

“Mr. Dunworthy’s secretary should know where he is,” Badri said and walked back to the console. “Why don’t you go over to Balliol and ask him?”

“I did. He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

And Badri clearly didn’t want to either. “Colin,” he said, “we’re very busy here.”

The tech, Linna, who’d come back with the coordinates, nodded. “We have three retrievals and two drops to do this afternoon.”

Seriously: what is this, Tom fucking Swift? (All it’s missing is titter-inducing uses of “ejaculated” to mean “said”.)
I mean, in that whole passage the only descriptive language we got was an indication that the “tech” was pretty and young looking. The dialogue is blunt and expository, without any real flavor. Same for the action, such as it is: “The tech nodded and went over to the other side of the lab.” “Badri said and walked back to the console.” “Went over”. “Walked back”. You’re dazzling me, Connie!

Leaving aside any speculation about gender (because for one thing, honestly this style reads more “non-literary male” than anything), I can only assume that some significant number of the Worldcon membership prefers that “classic” style, without the narrative being gussied up with any highfalutin’ literary language. That stuff’s for fancypants! Sigh.

I just don’t think you’ll find many literary critics or English professors who would agree that Willis’s prose is any good. And that’s the kind of thing that holds back SF from being taken seriously as literature.

@Exapno_Mapcase

Her first win was in that bastion of women’s domination over males, 1983.

That’s kind of an odd thing to snark about. You know how things are super different now in our culture vis-a-vis women than they were in the “Mad Men” days of the early 1960s? The majority of that change had already taken place by 1983. My mom had gone through consciousness-raisings, took back her “maiden” name despite continuing to be married to my dad, gave my and my sister hyphenated names (with my sister getting my mom’s name first and me getting my dad’s first), became a college professor around 1980, etc. A year after ‘83, we had the first woman running on a presidential ticket. I don’t know how young you are, but do Millennials think the ‘80s was like the ‘50s or something?

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

But man oh man, the fresh works being brought by Liu and Jemisin and Kai Ashante Wilson and Okorafor and Leckie and so many others. Drop the whiny identity politics, drop the fussing over what SJWs are doing to this white dude field, and READ.

Maybe you missed my passing mention, but the only one of any of these books I own and have been reading recently is the Liu novel—although after researching the awards, there are a few more now on the top of my wishlist.

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

And see why Scalzi agreed that Jemisin took the Hugo from him in a walk, both in the space he gave her essay on the book and in his wonderful write-up of the most recent Hugo ceremony.

News flash! An award loser was gracious toward the winner! I suppose in the era of Trump, that might seem more noteworthy, but it really isn’t—or shouldn’t be. It has no meaning, except that (1) he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s a sore loser (2) he doesn’t want to hurt Jemisin’s feelings and (3) he doesn’t want to be associated with the “Sad Puppies”. Maybe he fully believes every word he says there, but there’s no particular reason to think so. All we really know is that he’s either a nice guy or he has enough sense to come across as one in public.

[Wendell_Wagner]

I can’t find any good lists of the best contemporary science fiction and fantasy writers. Here are two lists that are as close as I can get. One is of 50 best recent fantasy novels and one is of 25 best recent science fiction novels. There certainly are a lot of women writers on these two lists. I don’t know without doing some research how many authors on these lists are non-white:

Paste Magazine

http://bestsciencefictionbooks.com/best-contemporary-science-fiction-books.php

Look, SlackerInc, I’m not going to argue whether your opinions on science fiction and fantasy are correct or not. I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy (and spend a lot of time at reading-oriented cons and reading-oriented clubs) and I can see that your opinions differ distinctly from that of many regular science fiction and fantasy readers. You need to understand that your literary judgments do differ from those of many such readers, some of whom read a lot more science fiction and fantasy than you. It’s possible for such people to have honest disagreements with you.

[Darren_Garrison]

Anyway, I guess I’m happy for the fantasy fans that their genre has gotten so big. But can’t they have their own award? Or can’t we who like hard SF have one?

Here you go. Pick one. You can see the results of a few of them here.

[SlackerInc]

@Wendell_Wagner

Look, SlackerInc, I’m not going to argue whether your opinions on science fiction and fantasy are correct or not. I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy (and spend a lot of time at reading-oriented cons and reading-oriented clubs) and I can see that your opinions differ distinctly from that of many regular science fiction and fantasy readers. You need to understand that your literary judgments do differ from those of many such readers, some of whom read a lot more science fiction and fantasy than you. It’s possible for such people to have honest disagreements with you.

Sure, but I’ve been very specific in my criticisms. I’m not seeing that specificity and detail coming back the other way, especially about Willis (I see a lot more merit in Jemisin, in case that wasn’t already clear). And I’m not just trying to win an argument here: I’m genuinely mystified and thus curious as to why that kind of prose appeals to so many SF fans.

[Wendell_Wagner]

This is nitpicky, but this made it difficult for me to search for McDonald. It’s Ian McDonald, not Iain McDonald. I just wanted to point that out in case someone else was searching for things by him.

Unfortunately, I don’t own Blackout and All Clear by Willis or The Dervish House by McDonald, so I can’t compare them based on the entire novels.

[GreenWyvern]

Ismet flung open a matching door across the dusty room. Colour flooded in and more than colour: a growing verdure of clipped box; the perfume of sun-warmed wood; the burble of water and the sudden song of birds. Ismet might have opened a door onto Paradise.
The garden was six paces across, but it contained a universe. A shady cloister walled with floral Iznik tiles ran around the courtyard affording shade or shelter in every season. The fountain was a single piece of sun-warmed marble, releasing water over a lily-lip into a basin. A jewel-bright lizard started from repose in the sun and dashed along the scalloped rim to vanish into the shade beneath. Herbaceous plants grew tall and cool in small box-bordered beds. The soil was dark and rich as chocolate. A green place. House martins dipped and bobbed along the eaves of the wooden gallery directly above the cloister. Their shrills filled the air. A copy of yesterday’s Cumhuriyetlay sun-yellowing on a marble bench.
“It’s all still here,” Ismet said. “The redevelopers never got around to the back. The old cells are being used for storage—we’ll clear them out.”
“Someone looks after this,” Necdet said. He could imagine himself here. He would come in the evening, when the light would fall over that roof onto that bench in a single pane of sun. He could sit and smoke blow. It would be a good place for a smoke.
“We’ll be all right here,” Ismet said, looking around at the overhanging balconies, the little rectangle of blue sky. “I’ll look after you.”

To me this is not good writing. It’s pretentious. The author is saying, “Look at me! I have such a magnificent vocabulary! I have such incredible poetic skills! I am such an intellectual, refined, gifted writer! I can paint a scene like a work of art! Read my grandiloquent prose and bow down, ye mortals!”

The writing is self-consciously overblown.

Good writing doesn’t draw attention to itself. It flows and draws you in. You don’t even think about the writing until you look back and analyse it and realise, “Yes, that was brilliantly written.” It can be slow, it can be subtle, it can paint a vivid picture, but it isn’t ostentatious. That’s the true craft of writing.

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

@GreenWyvern

To me this is not good writing. It’s pretentious. The author is saying, “Look at me! I have such a magnificent vocabulary! I have such incredible poetic skills! I am such an intellectual, refined, gifted writer! I can paint a scene like a work of art! Read my grandiloquent prose and bow down, ye mortals!”

The writing is self-consciously overblown.

Good writing doesn’t draw attention to itself. It flows and draws you in. You don’t even think about the writing until you look back and analyse it and realise, “Yes, that was brilliantly written.” It can be slow, it can be subtle, it can paint a vivid picture, but it isn’t ostentatious. That’s the true craft of writing.

I disagree with this pretty much as I disagree with Slacker’s absurd criticisms of Jemisin. There’s no such thing as a single style of good writing: it can be florid, it can be unadorned, it can be formal, it can be informal, it can be serious, it can be hilarious.

Jemisin’s book, despite Slacker’s Sherlockian conclusions based on reading three pages, is very tightly constructed; the shifts in tone and person in the prologue are part of the mystery established there and revealed over the course of the trilogy. She absolutely knew what she was doing and knocked it out of the park.

Banks is also very good, even if he’s not my favorite. I find his stories arid, his characters not particularly compelling, but his settings are amazing, and he brings great McGuffin to the party.

[MrDibble]

@GreenWyvern

To me this is not good writing. It’s pretentious. […]

The writing is self-consciously overblown.

That’s my feeling, too.

It also screams “writer’s workshop”. Stick in as many adjectives and similes as you can possibly cram in there. Make your thesaurus as dog-eared as possible while you’re at it.

[GreenWyvern]

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

There’s no such thing as a single style of good writing: it can be florid, it can be unadorned, it can be formal, it can be informal, it can be serious, it can be hilarious.

I agree that there are many different styles of good writing - as many as there are good writers.

But good writing has to work. This doesn’t. It’s fake and kitschy.

Look at the imagery:

burble of water
shady cloister
sun-warmed wood
sun-warmed marble
jewel-bright lizard
[bird] shrills filled the air
soil dark and rich as chocolate

The imagery is clichéd and unoriginal. It reads like a teenager’s first attempt at poetry.

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

:shrug. Okay. It works just fine for me.

[Exapno_Mapcase]

@SlackerInc

Interesting system. Problem is that it sounds like it awards the prize to the author no one is mad at, or whom everyone feels they should be nice to even if it’s not their favorite.

Really might help your arguments if you took the time to learn something about a subject before you comment on it.

Darren Garrison posted a link to the Hugo results in post #3. Every single fiction winner had a plurality of votes on the first pass, by a commanding margin, before going on to win.

I just don’t think you’ll find many literary critics or English professors who would agree that Willis’s prose is any good. And that’s the kind of thing that holds back SF from being taken seriously as literature.

I think that they love Connie and her writing. A search on Google Scholar brought up 148 hits on her name just from 2014 on. Not every hit is an appraisal of her writing, of course, or necessarily a positive one, but a glance over the brief excerpts will show that she is taken very seriously as a leading writer in the genre. I should mention that I’m a past member of the academic group the Science Fiction Research Association and have delivered academic papers at conferences, so I have some actual knowledge of what academics think about the subject.

BTW, I started reading adult sf in 1963. I was around for the entire rise of literary science fiction and the founding of serious study of the genre in academe. I knew a lot of the players on both sides of the fence. You are perfectly entitled to not like certain authors. I’ve had to be scraped off the ceiling after many Hugo and Nebula winners were announced. (As a friend of mine, a tenured English professor and award-winning sf writer, said after Rowling won the Hugo: “Harry Fucking Potter!”) Personal preferences give you no leeway on ignorance of the field, however. You’re projecting those preferences on others. The world doesn’t agree with you. Stop pretending it does, or should, or must.

[DSYoungEsq]

There are many people who thought Piers Anthony wrote excellent stories. There are many people who thought J. R. R. Tolkien wrote excellent stories. The differences in style between the two almost could not be greater. It’s relatively useless to argue about how excellent a writer is on the basis of their style of writing; it’s in the eye of the Beholder.

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

@Exapno_Mapcase

I think that they love Connie and her writing.

Curious about another of Slacker’s uncited “it must be so!” claims, I Googled “Connie Willis Reviews” and looked for reviews by critics with literature degrees. The first one I found is this review by Michael Dirda, who has a doctorate in comparative literature, and also a Pultizer Prize.

@Dirda

“Blackout” plunges the reader right into the middle of three key happenings of 1940: the rescue of the British troops from Dunkirk, the evacuation of children to rural villages and country houses, and the life of ordinary Londoners during the Blitz. Every detail rings true, with the kind of authority that only intense research can bring. Still, all of Willis’s knowledge is subsumed in her bravura storytelling: “Blackout” is, by turns, witty, suspenseful, harrowing and occasionally comic to the point of slapstick.
…
It’s hard to know what to praise more in “Blackout,” whether the comic misadventures of Eileen, or the nightmarish confusion of Dunkirk and its aftermath, or Polly’s growing affection for the people with whom she shares a bomb shelter. The supporting cast almost steals the show: the irrepressible Alf and Binnie, the “very particular” shop supervisor Miss Snelgrove, the madcap Commander Harold, the elderly actor Sir Godfrey Kingsman, who constantly quotes Shakespeare, the knockout barmaid Daphne, who falls for poor Mike. There are also several delicious chapters describing the gossip and girl-talk of a group of upper-class volunteer nurses, and a comic interlude about decoy tanks and an angry bull that might have come straight out of Jerome K. Jerome (to whose late Victorian humorous classic, “Three Men in a Boat,” Willis paid homage in her own 1997 time-travel extravaganza, “To Say Nothing of the Dog”).
…
If you’re a science-fiction fan, you’ll want to read this book by one of the most honored writers in the field (10 Hugos, six Nebulas); if you’re interested in World War II, you should pick up “Blackout” for its you-are-there authenticity; and if you just like to read, you’ll find here a novelist who can plot like Agatha Christie and whose books possess a bounce and stylishness that Preston Sturges might envy.

[emphasis added]

At some point, perhaps, Slacker will wave the white flag of humility, and realize that his local library has some books he can check out for free, so he can read these amazing authors for himself.

Or, of course, he can continue pontificating without evidence, and imagine that people who are much better read than he is must obviously agree with him. That’s an option too.

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

And just to round out the research, I went looking for something similar in reviews of the Broken Earth trilogy; the first review I found from someone with a doctorate in English was this review by Annalee Newitz, who holds a doctorate in English and American Studies. Her review is titled:

@If you read one sci-fi series this year

Sometimes a book series is so important that you want people to put everything aside and just read it. I’m not the only one who feels this way about N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy. The first and second novels in Jemisin’s trilogy, The Fifth Season and The Obelisk Gate won the prestigious Hugo Award for the past two years in a row—the first time this has happened since Ender’s Game and its sequel Speaker for the Dead won sequential Hugos in 1986 and 87. Now the final Broken Earth book, The Stone Sky, is out. You can gobble up the whole series without interruption.
…
There are a lot of reasons why this series has been hailed as a masterpiece. There are unexpected twists which, in retrospect, you realize have been carefully plotted, skillfully hinted at, and well-earned. There are characters who feel like human beings, with problems that range from the mundane (raising kids in a risky world) to the extraordinary (learning to control earthquakes with your mind).
…
But Jemisin is hardly retelling The X-men, only with orogenes instead of mutants. She’s created a sociologically complex world
…
this is where Jemisin’s series has been a game changer, because she’s deftly woven together the tropes of fantasy and science fiction so well that she makes it impossible to separate the two genres. Though Jemisin is hardly the first writer to do this, she’s one of the leading lights in a movement among speculative writers to break down the boundaries between magic and science in their storytelling. In The Broken Earth, the results will surprise you with their devious complexity.
…
She is obviously at the top of her game. Her prose in the trilogy is gorgeous, disturbing, and often quite funny. The whole series is told in the second person, addressed to the main characters, which is incredibly difficult to pull off. Not only does Jemisin make it work, but her stylistic choice has the eerie effect of making it feel as if the novels are addressed directly to us, the audience. By the third novel, we get a satisfactory explanation for why the story had to be told this way, but not before it contributes to several fascinating plot twists.

Again, if we’re gonna appeal to authority, we should appeal to actual authorities, not what we imagine some authorities who obviously would agree with us would say if only they weren’t imaginary.

[ISiddiqui]

@SlackerInc

That was interesting, thanks for linking. I find it mind-boggling that they too gave their top prize to that Connie Willis book. Does no one else see what I’m talking about, that the writing style is like early juvenile sci-fi? I thought we were several decades into an effort to make the genre more literary, or at least not so…basic. There’s virtually nothing there except wooden dialogue and barebones description of mechanical action. She may have outlined an interesting SF scenario, but she should have found a writing partner to help give it life.

Blackout/All Clear not only won the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best Novel, but also the Locus Award for Best Novel (a prize which is far more pro-Stephenson and Scalzi than the Hugo and Nebula, FWIW).

I think that on that piece of work you should just retire and say you didn’t personally appreciate it, but acknowledge that quite a few people, including critics, did.

[SlackerInc]

@GreenWyvern

To me this is not good writing. It’s pretentious. The author is saying, “Look at me! I have such a magnificent vocabulary! I have such incredible poetic skills! I am such an intellectual, refined, gifted writer! I can paint a scene like a work of art! Read my grandiloquent prose and bow down, ye mortals!”

The writing is self-consciously overblown.

Good writing doesn’t draw attention to itself. It flows and draws you in. You don’t even think about the writing until you look back and analyse it and realise, “Yes, that was brilliantly written.” It can be slow, it can be subtle, it can paint a vivid picture, but it isn’t ostentatious. That’s the true craft of writing.

Thank you for your specific, detailed response. I figured “pretentious” might come up. I don’t see it that way, but it’s absolutely a legitimate perspective.

Do you feel the same way about the Doerr excerpt? And what about Willis?

@Wendell_Wagner

This is nitpicky, but this made it difficult for me to search for McDonald. It’s Ian McDonald, not Iain McDonald. I just wanted to point that out in case someone else was searching for things by him.

Whoops, sorry. I must have still had that “Iain” spelling in my head from Iain Banks. And then maybe I messed you up, LHOD? You referenced Banks and Willis when we were comparing McDonald and Willis.

@ISiddiqui

Blackout/All Clear not only won the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best Novel, but also the Locus Award for Best Novel (a prize which is far more pro-Stephenson and Scalzi than the Hugo and Nebula, FWIW).

I think that on that piece of work you should just retire and say you didn’t personally appreciate it, but acknowledge that quite a few people, including critics, did.

Not a chance. “I don’t personally appreciate the emperor’s new clothes, but I understand that everyone else seems to love them.” Nope, not going along with that.

Jemisin? I stand by my criticisms, which are in a nutshell that she uses informal language as though we are hearing from a character-narrator, but then the character intermittently disappears, as does the second-person voice, and we get standard third-person omniscient author descriptions of scenery and of the internal mental state a character would not know. To me that inconsistency is just an automatic fail. Still, there are some good, writerly sentences in there even if it’s a confused mishmash overall.

In the Willis, there is just nothing to hang your hat on there. You can cite experts all day long, but that doesn’t change anything. I already knew she won a zillion awards—that was my point, that I was utterly flabbergasted by this fact! I would like someone to look at the reasonably long excerpt I posted and tell me what’s good about it. In a specific and detailed way, just as GreenWyvern did when criticizing McDonald’s prose. How am I wrong to say it sounds like Tom Swift?

I Googled “tom swift excerpt” just now, to give an example (I haven’t read those books since I was a little kid, and they were dusty old relics even then) and honestly what I found (from “Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle”, LOL) is actually better written than the Willis. There is a bit more scene-setting description (in the Willis scene there is literally none except, again, that the “tech” is pretty and young looking) and distinctly more vivid action:

http://www.uniteddigitalbooks.com/Books/Tom%20Swift%20and%20His%20Motor-Cycle-1.pdf

The youth on the wheel, with a sudden spurt of speed, tried to cross the highway. He did manage to do it, but by such a narrow margin that in very terror Andy Foger shut off the power, jammed down the brakes and steered to one side. So suddenly was he obliged to swerve over that the ponderous machine skidded and went into the ditch at the side of the road, where it brought up, tilting to one side.
Tom Swift, his face rather pale from his narrow escape, leaped from his bicycle, and stood regarding the automobile. As for the occupants of that machine, from Andy Foger, the owner, to the three cronies who were riding with him, they all looked very much astonished.
“Are we–is it damaged any, Andy?” asked Sam Snedecker.
“I hope not,” growled Andy. “If my car’s hurt it’s Tom Swift’s fault!”

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

@SlackerInc

Whoops, sorry. I must have still had that “Iain” spelling in my head from Iain Banks. And then maybe I messed you up, LHOD? You referenced Banks and Willis when we were comparing McDonald and Willis.

Yup–I was thinking Iaiaiaian Banks. Never read McDonald to the best of my knowledge.

Jemisin? I stand by my criticisms, which are in a nutshell that she uses informal language as though we are hearing from a character-narrator, but then the character intermittently disappears, as does the second-person voice, and we get standard third-person omniscient author descriptions of scenery and of the internal mental state a character would not know. To me that inconsistency is just an automatic fail. Still, there are some good, writerly sentences in there even if it’s a confused mishmash overall.

To you it’s a mishmash and you’re not curious enough to read on to resolve those apparent discrepancies. That’s fine, except you refuse to believe the people who have actually read on further and who have seen that those discrepancies are resolved and explained.

Willful ignorance is difficult to excuse.

In the Willis, there is just nothing to hang your hat on there. You can cite experts all day long, but that doesn’t change anything. I already knew she won a zillion awards—that was my point, that I was utterly flabbergasted by this fact! I would like someone to look at the reasonably long excerpt I posted and tell me what’s good about it.

I don’t need to look at an excerpt when I’ve read entire novels by her.

[Fenris]

@SlackerInc

Very. Same goes for GRR Martin, BTW. Get your own awards, fantasy writers!

Hey, 2001 called and "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire said “This has been settled forever in the short story category, and I sealed the deal on the novel. Get a new objection and get over it. :D”

Seriously: Dune is largely fantasy (the Stillsuits only work if you accept “magic” as an explanation) as is Stranger in a Strange Land and hell, unless you’re a $cientologist, so is They’d Rather Be Right (which won the second “Best Novel” Hugo award.) For that matter, The Man In The High Castle has, as a key points, those Chinese fortune telling sticks that I can’t remember the name of, actually working.

I bounced off the first book in the Jemisin trilogy about two chapters in, and her antics at the Hugos didn’t endear her to me further, but the “This is low, common fantasy and can’t be allowed near legitimate Science Fiction” thing is a silly, tired settled argument

[SlackerInc]

I recognize that it’s a fait accompli, but I don’t have to like it. And I can still root for well-written hard SF to win.

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

Yup–I was thinking Iaiaiaian Banks. Never read McDonald to the best of my knowledge.

What did you think of the excerpt?

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

To you it’s a mishmash and you’re not curious enough to read on to resolve those apparent discrepancies. That’s fine, except you refuse to believe the people who have actually read on further and who have seen that those discrepancies are resolved and explained.

Then feel free to explain in a spoiler box, or buy me the book and I’ll read the whole thing. I’m curious enough, just lacking in disposable income to throw around (our family’s epic summer road trip put us deep in credit card purgatory, hence the Ubering).

@Left_Hand_of_Dorkness

I don’t need to look at an excerpt when I’ve read entire novels by her.

So what did you like about them? The plots? I did think that aspect sounded cool when reading the Wikipedia summary, which is why I suggested she work with another writer. I would actually like to do something like that, as I have what I think are some really cool hard-SF scenarios outlined, but I have no gift for writing description or dialogue. Although the Willis wins make me wonder if I really need any!

[Left_Hand_of_Dorkness]

@SlackerInc

What did you think of the excerpt?

The part about the sun-warmed everything? I already posted twice about it: I thought it was fine (although on reading some of the criticism of it, the use of “sun-warmed” twice in such proximity is a minor and forgiveable screwup).

Then feel free to explain in a spoiler box, or buy me the book and I’ll read the whole thing. I’m curious enough, just lacking in disposable income to throw around (our family’s epic summer road trip put us deep in credit card purgatory, hence the Ubering).

Library, dude. But here’s a quick spoiler, filtered through my memory of reading that passage first when the book was on the new book shelf, and not fully learning the narrator’s identity until the third book in the trilogy a few years later; I may misremember a detail or two. Note that this spoiler gives away some of the central mysteries of the trilogy.

IIRC, the narrator of that section is a millennia-old “earth spirit”, who has bonded with the main character of the book and who has also spent decades observing the geomancer who brings about the apocalypse. Due to the earth spirit’s history–it’s actually the remains of a lab-engineered, enslaved, and tortured human–it’s incredibly furious; but it also has enough compassion towards humanity that it mourns their deaths. Viciously wry humor enables it to maintain some semblance of control in the face of this eternal fury and grief. It is supposedly telling the story to the protagonist at a moment of her greatest weakness, and it tells it without bothering to stay first-person subjective due to its demigodlike status.

So what did you like about them? The plots?

I’ve read “To Say Nothing of the Dog” and “Crosstalk.” I loved the quick wit and comedy of manners in the former; its blend of Victorian sensibilities and time-travel tropes was just delightful. (Full disclosure: my wife and I were dating at the time, and being ridiculous nerds, read the book aloud to each other; that no doubt influenced my fond recollections of it). The prose was, IIRC, invisible, which is a fine writing style.

I have very little good to say about “Crosstalk,” except that it wasn’t bad enough for me to put it down.

Point being, though, I’m relying on more than an excerpt in my opinion. I wouldn’t dream of venturing an opinion on, say, “Doomsday Book,” since I haven’t read it. Reading a book, or at least a hundred or so pages, is a bare minimum requirement for opining on it, IMO.