This review of Perish by the Sword by AM Romer will be at the
top of the blog for the next week. Newer posts will appear below it.
The outstanding thing about Perish by the Sword is that Poul Anderson
has captured a particular time and place perfectly. It’s like a
tourist’s guide to Northern California, 1959. You can see it, hear it,
and feel it in the air. Here are the Berkley scientists in their labs
and offices, the post-war tech, and Russia forever in the background.
Here are the San Francisco Bay houses, complete with sunken lounges and
after-work martinis, and the women with their cropped hair, their own
jobs and their own sports cars. And here’s the bar, Howl, full of beat
poets (of course) and groovy cats, and young men who’ll do anything for
‘the experience’. The sense of place and time he’s given us is awesome;
it’s a gift, and that’s the joy of this book. But unfortunately, what is
joyless outweighs it.
In an interview (find it here),
Anderson explains how he begins to conceive of a book: he wants to say
something about a particular topic – a philosophical concept or thought
experiment, or an observation on the political and social movements
around him, for example – and then develops a story around that. It
sounds great for sci-fi. Arguably, the motivation at the core of all
sci-fi is the question What if…? But this is where Perish by the Sword
falls down.
It reads as though the author has made a
decision to write a novel in the ‘detective’ genre, maybe as a kind of
exercise, to see if he can do it. He has developed his plot points, the
crime and the solution, and the elements of contemporary culture he
wishes to include, and then – and only then – has he populated this plot
with characters. It’s as though he has precisely mapped out all the
moves in a game of chess for both players, and then carefully places the
pieces on the board in their required positions, rather than letting
the game unfold. The plot is enacted by the characters – it does not
grow naturally from them. There is the strong sense that they exist
mainly to fulfil plot points and genre requirements, whereas great
characters seem to have a life of their own and are caught up in events
which they or other characters have created. The result is that I can’t
care about them. I don’t care if they live or die; they are items moved
upon a game board because the author needs them to move. This results in
a distinct lack of tension – because I don’t care enough to be
invested, to worry about the wrongly accused or who might next be put to
the sword.
Even their names felt carefully
constructed, along with their background, psychological profile,
linguistic habits, eccentricities of behaviour and interests. Yes, the
name Trygve Yamamura indicates his ‘San Francisco melting pot’ heritage,
but it will never get this detective into the canon. And Colquhoun
(huge, fiery-tempered bloke with a suitably Scottish moniker) was
slowing the pace – not because of his character, but because of having
to read and then remember how to pronounce his name.
For
someone who is a seasoned reader in the crime genre, the perpetrator
stood out from the beginning. In fact, it seemed so obvious that I
thought there must be a twist, and it was the thought of this that kept
me reading… but there was no twist. By the end, when Yamamura gives a
straightforward walkthrough of the murder and how it was done, I’d
already been waiting some time for the characters to catch up to what I
already knew. If this doesn’t happen quickly, it doesn’t matter how
brilliant the writer is in terms of language or imagery – frustration
sets in. Some elements of the denouement were a surprise, hinging as
they did on the tiniest, seemingly throw-away lines and observations.
But rather than coming across as ‘clever’, so that the reader has that
rush of revelation, Oh, of course! Why didn’t I see it? that
characterises the best Poirot stories, it felt almost mathematical: the
clues so carefully scattered, gathered together at the end by the
detective into a neat equation, but one I had no real interest in
working out.
People love to solve problems. The
detective story is a sophisticated series of problems and puzzles, and
good ones test their readers’ knowledge of human psychology, as well as
their familiarity with the conventions of the genre itself. Perish by
the Sword was not so much a test for the reader as an illustration of
Anderson’s ability to create a plot. The characters were figures made to
fulfil the plot’s requirements: the detective, the victim, the suspect,
the love interest, the murderer. And the overall reason for the book’s
existence felt like it was an exercise for a very intelligent author in
‘writing a murder mystery’. Detective Yamamura occasionally showed
glimpses of being his own person, rather than the author’s puppet, but
in the end he too felt like a chess piece in an intellectual game. So
despite my fantastic tour of Berkley and San Francisco in the late
1950s, I was left cold and, ultimately, bored by the novel – and by the
characters who played out their pre-assigned roles and behaviours
exactly as planned.
AM Romer
August 2019
Monday, 19 August 2019
Monday, 4 February 2019
The Broken Sword, Original And Revised, Part One, by Nicholas David Rosen
I was at college in the first half of the 1980s when I found and bought a
copy of THE BROKEN SWORD; it was the revised 1971 edition, with a
preface by Poul Anderson, explaining how he had cleared the “wordbrush”
and substituted one Person for another in a brief but important scene.
Elsewhere, Sandra Miesel expressed the view that the revised edition was
an improvement, and wrote that subsequent quotations in her essay were
from the revised edition.
I recently found a trade paperback of the original version on sale, with an introduction by Michael Dirda, and bought and read that. The remainder of this post is directed primarily to Anderson fans who have read the book, but should also be of interest to book lovers who have not; while I will not recount the plot, those who do not want to learn anything about the events before reading the book had best cease to peruse this post.
The writing of the original version is less polished than the revision, and contains various typographical errors, although I do not know whether they were slavishly copied from the first printing, or newly introduced. Plural possessives throughout the book use double quotation marks instead of single apostrophes. “Monsters of the Wood of Grendel” should be “Monsters of the Brood of Grendel”, and a troll speaks of lying beside a human man, where “human may” (maiden) seems much more likely.
There are other changes which, in my view, improve the revised edition. The revised edition describes Orm, at the grace-ale for his son Ketil, maintaining his cheer “as befitted a warrior who had contempt for death”, a memorable phrase lacking in the original. In the revised edition, as I recall it, Imric describes his foster son Skafloc’s enthusiastically war-loving verses upon receiving his new steel weapons and armor as well said “if a little boyish.” In the original, Imric’s words do not include this sound critical comment.
In both editions, milk from the infant Skafloc’s elfin wet-nurse Leea was sweet fire in his mouth and veins, but in the revised edition, “her milk” becomes “the milk which she brought forth by no natural means.”
Although the writing of the first version left room for improvement, in the author’s opinion, Sandra Miesel’s, and my own, the twenty-seven year old Poul Anderson accomplished more than telling a gripping, heroic, and tragic tale in a fully adequate prose style. He wrote the book in several prose styles, using a spare, saga-like style for the opening tale of Orm, a lusher prose to describe Skafloc’s childhood and coming of age among the elves, and a style suggestive of a late medieval romance to describe Ketil’s being led astray and coming upon the witch in the guise of a beautiful young woman. Anderson also composed a number of poems in alliterative verse (some rhymed as well) for the characters to recite in a variety of contexts and moods. This would have been an impressive achievement for a writer of fully mature skill.
If you have not read the book, and are at all attracted to heroic fantasy of a grim Nordic sort, where heroes, villains, and bystanders are slain, and any women not dead themselves are left to grieve their heart-breaking losses, yet people dree their weirds bravely, with undaunted resolution, THE BROKEN SWORD is for you. I prefer the revised edition, but either version provides a gripping tale and exceptional literary experience.
I recently found a trade paperback of the original version on sale, with an introduction by Michael Dirda, and bought and read that. The remainder of this post is directed primarily to Anderson fans who have read the book, but should also be of interest to book lovers who have not; while I will not recount the plot, those who do not want to learn anything about the events before reading the book had best cease to peruse this post.
The writing of the original version is less polished than the revision, and contains various typographical errors, although I do not know whether they were slavishly copied from the first printing, or newly introduced. Plural possessives throughout the book use double quotation marks instead of single apostrophes. “Monsters of the Wood of Grendel” should be “Monsters of the Brood of Grendel”, and a troll speaks of lying beside a human man, where “human may” (maiden) seems much more likely.
There are other changes which, in my view, improve the revised edition. The revised edition describes Orm, at the grace-ale for his son Ketil, maintaining his cheer “as befitted a warrior who had contempt for death”, a memorable phrase lacking in the original. In the revised edition, as I recall it, Imric describes his foster son Skafloc’s enthusiastically war-loving verses upon receiving his new steel weapons and armor as well said “if a little boyish.” In the original, Imric’s words do not include this sound critical comment.
In both editions, milk from the infant Skafloc’s elfin wet-nurse Leea was sweet fire in his mouth and veins, but in the revised edition, “her milk” becomes “the milk which she brought forth by no natural means.”
Although the writing of the first version left room for improvement, in the author’s opinion, Sandra Miesel’s, and my own, the twenty-seven year old Poul Anderson accomplished more than telling a gripping, heroic, and tragic tale in a fully adequate prose style. He wrote the book in several prose styles, using a spare, saga-like style for the opening tale of Orm, a lusher prose to describe Skafloc’s childhood and coming of age among the elves, and a style suggestive of a late medieval romance to describe Ketil’s being led astray and coming upon the witch in the guise of a beautiful young woman. Anderson also composed a number of poems in alliterative verse (some rhymed as well) for the characters to recite in a variety of contexts and moods. This would have been an impressive achievement for a writer of fully mature skill.
If you have not read the book, and are at all attracted to heroic fantasy of a grim Nordic sort, where heroes, villains, and bystanders are slain, and any women not dead themselves are left to grieve their heart-breaking losses, yet people dree their weirds bravely, with undaunted resolution, THE BROKEN SWORD is for you. I prefer the revised edition, but either version provides a gripping tale and exceptional literary experience.
The Broken Sword, Original And Revised, Part Two, by Nicholas David Rosen
There is something more to be said about the differences between the two
versions of THE BROKEN SWORD; saying this does not give away the whole
story by any means, but it does hint at what will happen in the course
of the tale, so those who have not read THE BROKEN SWORD and hope to do
so may wish to refrain from reading further.
In the original version of the book, the witch summons Satan twice. The first time, he advises her on how she can achieve revenge against her enemies (including the wife and children of the Viking chief who slaughtered her family and took their land). The second time, a band of elves dispatched by Earl Imric are seeking her life, so she calls upon her master Satan to preserve her. He refuses, calling himself the lord of evil, which is futility, and leaving her to be killed. It is nothing to him whether she lives to see her revenge completed, and he tells her that she is not his servant, but his slave.
In the revised version, the first summoning appears to be much the same, with the prose tightened somewhat, but the witch sees Someone departing who appears to match the description of Odin. It does not matter much to her with whom she deals, provided she can avenge her son and other kindred. When she summons Satan again, the genuine enemy of souls replies to her, but this time says, in addition to his other icy words, that she did not deal with him, but with another. He also makes another chilling statement absent from the original version: “Mortals never sell me their souls. They throw them away.”
Whether or not one believes literally in the Christian God and the chief fallen angel, there is a warning in that.
As a literary matter, both versions work: Odin is also active and plotting in the novel, and could have helped the chain of events along by appearing to the witch in another’s guise; or the Devil could have given the witch evil counsel to assist her in doing his work. I prefer the revised version, both because the writing is improved, and because the advice which the witch hears the first time, although directed to an evil purpose, is wise and poetic. It seems more natural coming from the mouth of Odin, who is Machiavellian but not all bad, than from the mouth of Satan, who is.
In the original version of the book, the witch summons Satan twice. The first time, he advises her on how she can achieve revenge against her enemies (including the wife and children of the Viking chief who slaughtered her family and took their land). The second time, a band of elves dispatched by Earl Imric are seeking her life, so she calls upon her master Satan to preserve her. He refuses, calling himself the lord of evil, which is futility, and leaving her to be killed. It is nothing to him whether she lives to see her revenge completed, and he tells her that she is not his servant, but his slave.
In the revised version, the first summoning appears to be much the same, with the prose tightened somewhat, but the witch sees Someone departing who appears to match the description of Odin. It does not matter much to her with whom she deals, provided she can avenge her son and other kindred. When she summons Satan again, the genuine enemy of souls replies to her, but this time says, in addition to his other icy words, that she did not deal with him, but with another. He also makes another chilling statement absent from the original version: “Mortals never sell me their souls. They throw them away.”
Whether or not one believes literally in the Christian God and the chief fallen angel, there is a warning in that.
As a literary matter, both versions work: Odin is also active and plotting in the novel, and could have helped the chain of events along by appearing to the witch in another’s guise; or the Devil could have given the witch evil counsel to assist her in doing his work. I prefer the revised version, both because the writing is improved, and because the advice which the witch hears the first time, although directed to an evil purpose, is wise and poetic. It seems more natural coming from the mouth of Odin, who is Machiavellian but not all bad, than from the mouth of Satan, who is.
Monday, 28 January 2019
Perish by the Sword: A Review by Nygel G. Harrot
The pen is mightier than the sword… Or is it?
Does Poul pull off a murder mystery as well as dear old Agatha or is the sword in the title really just a blunt knife?
Now, I must admit that this is the first Poul Anderson book that I have in fact read. I have not yet traveled the depths of time with him via the Time Patrol series.
As a follower of good mysteries containing bodies on vicars’ hearth rugs I thought I would try this well known author from the 50s onwards, despite a word from Mr. Paul Shackley that, for him, this was not one of his favorite Poul books. (The sword stays firmly in the time period that it is set in and does not slip into a different stream or dimension of history, past or future.)
To be honest, I set up my camp with Mr Shackley, although a few tents along.
The mystery was solid.
The writing very good.
The words used created the atmosphere and the feel of the late 1950s (the book itself was written in 1959 and was the winner of the ‘Cock Robin’ mystery award).
But for me the problem was the bit between the lines. The feel of the characters and situation as I took my eyes off the page and turned it. They were lost to me until I hooked onto the words again.
If an Agatha Christie story was a painting, it would be a fine line drawing shaded with water colour pencils containing the odd patch of heavy red. Poul’s, on the other hand, would be a solid ink illustration, logically made up of thick firm black lines. With no shading.
After the sword had been wielded for the last time, after the culprit had been revealed, after the book had been closed, I didn’t have the feel of heart to want to join some of them again for the two follow up books (Murder in Black Letter and Murder Bound).
A solid read. But without the depth of characters that I can connect with.
5 out of 10.
Does Poul pull off a murder mystery as well as dear old Agatha or is the sword in the title really just a blunt knife?
Now, I must admit that this is the first Poul Anderson book that I have in fact read. I have not yet traveled the depths of time with him via the Time Patrol series.
As a follower of good mysteries containing bodies on vicars’ hearth rugs I thought I would try this well known author from the 50s onwards, despite a word from Mr. Paul Shackley that, for him, this was not one of his favorite Poul books. (The sword stays firmly in the time period that it is set in and does not slip into a different stream or dimension of history, past or future.)
To be honest, I set up my camp with Mr Shackley, although a few tents along.
The mystery was solid.
The writing very good.
The words used created the atmosphere and the feel of the late 1950s (the book itself was written in 1959 and was the winner of the ‘Cock Robin’ mystery award).
But for me the problem was the bit between the lines. The feel of the characters and situation as I took my eyes off the page and turned it. They were lost to me until I hooked onto the words again.
If an Agatha Christie story was a painting, it would be a fine line drawing shaded with water colour pencils containing the odd patch of heavy red. Poul’s, on the other hand, would be a solid ink illustration, logically made up of thick firm black lines. With no shading.
After the sword had been wielded for the last time, after the culprit had been revealed, after the book had been closed, I didn’t have the feel of heart to want to join some of them again for the two follow up books (Murder in Black Letter and Murder Bound).
A solid read. But without the depth of characters that I can connect with.
5 out of 10.
Tuesday, 15 January 2019
Weapons Technology in the Technic Civilization Stories by Johan Ortiz
Flandry with blaster and stunner
Blasters and stunners and needlers, oh my!
The Technic civilization stories are not hard military sf in the style of for example David Drake. Nonetheless, Poul Anderson took some care regarding the kinds of weaponry his heroes and their foes would use. There are auto-guided missiles, most carrying nuclear warheads. There are energy weapons, so called “Blasters” which are not lasers – note how Technic “blaster cannon” are contrasted with more primitive Merseian lasers in a one-sided confrontation in THE DAY OF BURNING. Ships and men are protected by armour, which delay damage from blasters by virtue of having to be burned through first, but also by “force screens” which deflect or absorb incoming energy, such as blasters and lasers. Laser weapons seem to be considered obsolete, since they are only used by the (at the time) backward Merseians. Possibly they require more power than blasters for any given level of energy on target, making them impractical as hand held weapons.
Moving on to personal weapons, beside the mainstay blasters, there are “stunners”, which seem to be some sort of non-lethal energy weapon. There are slug throwers – we can assume this is the future name for old school projectile weapons in an age where a “gun” naturally refers to a blaster. And finally, there are “Needle guns”. Although the more usual seems to be carrying only two guns, blaster and stunner, the formidable Chee Lan likes to carry around a panoply of the four previously mentioned types of guns, as she did when exploring old ruins on the planet Dathyna in SATAN’S WORLD. Chee Lan’s arsenal is interesting, as it indicates that different types of gun have their distinct purposes, or at least strengths and weaknesses important enough to warrant the carrying of four different weapons in some situations. Let us explore these four types in turn.
Blasters
Beginning with the ubiquitous “blasters”, we can infer from the descriptions of their use that they are some form of directed energy weapons, and most probably neutral particle beam weapons. Such a weapon creates charged particles or ions by stripping atoms, to be used as projectiles, of some of their electrons. Once possessing a charge to be able to be affected by magnetism, these ions can be accelerated in much the same way as metallic slug in a magnetic rail gun. In the case of atomic or subatomic particles, relativistic speeds could be attained, up to near light speed.
A charged particle beam would soon scatter because homogenously charged ions would repel each other. For this reason, to create a beam of uncharged (neutral) particles, electrons are reattached to the ions just prior to leaving the projector, restoring them to proper atoms. Using uncharged particles has another advantage – a charged particle beam could easily be dispersed in the same manner as its component particles where accelerated in the first place – with magnetism. A magnetic screen would however be useless against a neutral particle beam. Since blaster beams are not described as scattering even in space combat between starships with ranges of hundreds or thousands of kilometres from gun to target, we can reasonably conclude that blaster beams, (if particle beams at all) are indeed neutral particle beams.
Such a beam would be mostly invisible in space, except where it collided with the occasional atom of gas or particle of dust, causing a light flickering here and there. In an atmosphere, the particle beam would flash brightly as the particles collide with atoms in the air and gradually lose power. This is consistent with the brightly white beams described by Poul Anderson, for example in THE MAN WHO COUNTS. Such a particle beam would be a devastating weapon, inflicting damage through kinetic force, heat and ionization. If we imagine the mass of one hit as being one millionth of a gram, at half the speed of light that would mean roughly 17-18 times the power of a .45 ACP round. While the weight of ammunition would be negligible, power requirements would not and would constitute the limiting factor in determining how many times a blaster could be fired before needing a reload. In theory, and surprisingly, a simple AA battery has enough power for two such shots, given an (admittedly unlikely) 100% efficiency. It is not then unimaginable, given a few hundred years of technology development, to have a magazine-sized power pack (with an integral small amount of heavy metal to be fired) capable of firing two or three dozen blaster shots.
We note that blasters can be set to a “needle beam”, i.e. a very narrow beam, in order to more likely cause incapacitating injuries rather than death. This is entirely feasible, indeed one important difficulty with a particle beam weapons is making the beam wide enough to cause significant damage. A short needle pulse could pass through a target causing minimal damage, as in fact has happened in laboratories such as CERN, where in at least one incident a scientist accidently had a particle beam fired straight through his head. Being the width of a single molecule, it caused no discernible damage at all!
As an interesting aside, the atoms used as projectiles could be of many kinds, but heavier ones would be more devastating at any given speed and would lose speed at a slower rate than light ones. If using poisonous heavy metals such as mercury, lead or perhaps plutonium, the victim of the blaster would not only be pierced and burned – he would be poisoned! Fortunately, the Technics seems too civilized for this, since Adzel in particular is shot repeatedly with blasters and is never poisoned.
Stunners
Moving on to stunner guns, it is much less obvious how they are supposed to work. At first glance I suspected they might have been electro laser “lightning guns”, where a short pulse laser ionizes atoms in its path to plasma, creating a conductive channel, through which an electric discharge is sent, presumably knocking out the target, much in the same way as a police taser. Such a weapon would probably have a short range, given that the electric discharge need to find less resistance in the plasma channel than any other route to grounding. Note that an electro laser could easily be made lethal, simply by ramping up the electric charge. It could also be used eminently well to fry electronics.
Curiously I found both support and evidence against this theory in the same passage in A CIRCUS OF HELLS:
A purple light ray flashed, guiding the soundless hammer-blow of a supersonic beam.
So indeed, the stunner is a two-component weapon and has a guiding beam, just like what we would expect from an electro-laser – but the discharge of such a weapon would look like a bolt of lightning, rather than a “purple light ray”. Also, the actual stunner beam is explicitly described as a “supersonic beam”, not an electric bolt. This is also the only way stunner weapons are described in other stories, such as SATAN’S WORLD – as firing “supersonic beams”. When googling for that phrase, one finds mainly references to “supersonic molecular beams”:
…supersonic molecular beam, which is generated by a free jet expansion source. Gas expands isentropically with molecular velocities greater than the speed of sound. The translational and vibrational energies of the beam can be independently controlled, and hence the energies of molecules that impinge on the surface.
If this is what Poul Anderson had in mind, we’re dealing with a jet of gas moving at very high, (indeed, supersonic) speed. A narcotic effect cannot be entirely ruled out, although it would require exposed skin and compatible biochemistry for the weapon to work. Still, the effect being immediate, one would guess the victim is rendered unconscious through concussion, rather than by any narcotic effect from the gas. This notion is reinforced by the descriptive “hammer-blow” delivered by the beam. I cannot say if the propagation and/or direction of a supersonic jet of gas would be aided by creating an ionized conduit for it, as would an electric current. It does not seem entirely implausible that it would tough. The range of the weapon would still be rather short. In order to reliably stun a target, the “hammer-blow” would have to be aimed at the head, pretty violent and potentially lethal, as blunt force often is. While this might be a reasonable explanation how a "supersonic beam" could be used to stun a target, it is not consistent with how stunner effects are described in the stories.
There is however another possibility. According to www.vocabulary.com
Originally, the word supersonic meant "having to do with sound waves beyond human hearing," but by 1934 it described movement exceeding the speed of sound, with ultrasonic taking on the old meaning.
It is possible that Poul Anderson was using the term “supersonic” in the old sense, what we today would call ultrasonic. Ultrasound have long been studied for use as a non-lethal weapon, and could potentially affect a target's nervous system, cause violent muscle contractions and/or affect the inner ear and balance system. This does sound a lot like the described effect of a stunner, although the point of the guiding purple light ray then becomes more obscure.
Projectile weapons
Slug throwers are not often used in the stories, and this seems logical when blasters would appear to be the better weapon in every way, excepting only the issue of visibility. The blindingly white particle beam of a blaster would immediately give away the position of the one firing it, whereas a traditional chemical energy projectile weapon would not. But this would seem of more importance for a sniper’s gun than for a handgun, and a high-power laser – silent, invisible, without bullet drop and with instant effect on targets within visual range – would seem like a far better choice for that purpose. There might however be one situation in which the archaic slug thrower would be the superior choice, namely against a target protected by an energy screen. These devices seem to dissipate directed energy beams such as blasters and lasers, but a solid projectile might conceivably pass right through it. Otherwise it is hard to imagine why Chee Lan would burden herself with one.
As for Chee Lan’s fourth gun, the “needle gun”, it is not clear what kind of weapon is intended. Historically, a “needle gun” was a precursor to the bolt action rifle, in which a needle would pierce a paper cartridge to hit a primer inside the cartridge, at the base of the bullet. This is obviously not what Poul Anderson had in mind. As previously noted, a blaster can be set to “needle beam”, thus not necessitating a special kind of gun to fire one. The needler must be some other type of weapon.
Most sci-fi references to needle guns seem to refer to a rail gun type of weapon magnetically firing a small needle-shaped projectile. It is hard to see what such a weapon system would have going for it compared to a blaster, except, again, stealth. If the needle is fired at supersonic speed, then the weapon will be rather loud, producing a sonic bang (comparable to the cracking of a whip) with every shot, but there will be no visible white beam. The range will be short, as a lightweight needle will quickly lose momentum in air. However, such a needle could well be carrying a drug or poison, and in fact we have a reference supporting that notion. In THE PLAGUE OF MASTERS Flandry ponders the use of a “a cyanide needler with a compressed air cartridge”. It would seem then that Technic needlers are not magnetic coil guns after all, but rather compressed air tranquilizer guns firing drug-carrying needle projectiles. Such a weapon could be used as a substitute to a conventional stun gun or if using lethal poison, as an assassins tool.
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