science-fiction – Arthur Hofn

Jumping On The Bandwagon

With the release of Dune Part Two, I’ve decided to blog about how things Dune related tend to end up stressing me out; sometimes for literary reasons, sometimes my own stupid fault. A long, long time ago, the late nineties to be not that precise, I acquired a copy of Dune; a second hand paperback, published in 1987. I knew this was considered a classic science-fiction novel and I planned on reading it at some point.

These were the days before you automatically checked the internet for information, therefore I had no real idea of what Dune was about, or that there was more than what I saw at face value. As it was, it took me a while to realise it was the first of a series of books. I have no problems with a series of novels, but because I am an “all or nothing” type of chap. I knew if I started this I was going to be in it for the long run and so, as I had other things I was reading at the time, put it to one side.

Time passed. I read loads and then moved to Ireland. In the move, I was only able to take some of my books and so my copy of Dune ended up in a box at my parents’ house. It was there waiting for me so I wasn’t going to buy a new copy, but as it was in another country. When I visited home I had other things on my mind than routing through old boxes, and my To Read Pile was big enough as it was

Time passed. I read loads and eventually moved back to England. On my return I was able to finally put together the two parts of my library (the books I had in Ireland and those I’d left behind). In doing so I found all sorts of interesting things, including my copy of Dune.

Looking at the Wikipedia page there are five further books written by the original author, Frank Herbert. The full series is:

Dune (1965)
Dune Messiah (1969)
Children of Dune (1976)
God Emperor of Dune (1981)
Heretics of Dune (1984)
Chapterhouse: Dune (1985)

Then there is all the other stuff, it had become a whole universe. Not only were there loads of short stories and comics by Herbert, but after his death in 1986, his son Brian Herbert, along with Kevin J. Anderson, wrote more, a lot more; prequels and sequels. Just looking at in-universe lists is somewhat overwhelming. For someone like me, this was very stressful; where do I stop? I don’t have the time, or wall space, for all of this. Stress number one. But is does raise a question, at what point dose all this universe building put people off? I’ll be coming back to that.

It was on a trip to Helsinki that I finally got around to reading this now long-overdue novel, and I loved it. The story gripped me to the point I was missing out on seeing the Nordic city I had gone there for. In the long hours of light, I stayed up late to read and read. I got a boat across to Suomenlinna and nearly stayed onboard when we got there, I hadn’t noticed. And then… I always get to an airport earlier than I need to. I’ll happily be in the departure lounge hours before it’s required; and so on my return, I did exactly this. I was safe, I was at the gate, nothing could go wrong. I could relax and just read. I was nearly finished at this point, knowing I would probably complete the book on the plane home. I read and read. I read some more, I had lost all awareness of what was going on around me. As I began to feel the remaining pages reduce I looked up. How had I read so much? I was early, but not THAT early? I looked at the clock. It was one hour after my flight had been due to depart.

I absolutely can lose all track of the world around me, but this seemed excessive. How had I missed the call for the flight? The queues for the gate? I had checked in, had my name been called over the tannoy? How had so much time passed and I hadn’t noticed? I was angry with myself, and quite fairly I thought, I blamed Frank Herbert! Stress number two.

I mean, there are far worse places to be stranded than Helsinki, in fact, I rather like the city and hadn’t really wanted to come home, but it is expensive.

Standing up, I realised I needed to do something about this and so went to find someone who worked for the airline. I asked about my flight and was quickly pointed to one of the displays. The flight had been delayed, and the plane hadn’t even arrived yet. I’d not missed my way home, but even so, if they had announced this I’d been so engrossed that I’d not heard. I genuinely believe that had the plane left I wouldn’t have noticed. I remember nothing of sitting in that departure lounge, other than Arrakis.

Obviously, I was enjoying what I was reading. The story and characters are compelling and the world created is huge, it’s no surprise there is so much space for all these extra stories. It’s inviting as not only is the universe big, it’s so clearly defined.

The problem was now I had read the first, was I committed? It felt like it. However, I decided I wanted to read something else and would decide if I would take up the next novel, Dune Messiah, later. I got busy again and more years passed. All that time I felt like I was a fraud. Yes, I’d read the first novel, but until I’d read more I couldn’t tell anyone, I’d only done one-sixth of the job! I was a cheat! People who knew what they were talking about would roll their eyes and think, ‘He’s one of them.’ Oh, the shame!

And then I heard they were making a new film. As stated elsewhere, I don’t like watching adaptions if I’ve read the book. I don’t see how changing the format can do it justice, so much has to be missed or restructured. (But if anyone wants to make a film of my books, I’m up for it, just show me the money!) I also don’t like what I saw in my head being replaced with new images. For this reason, and others, I hadn’t watched the 1984 David Lynch version and I’d decided that I wouldn’t this new version either, until everyone I know told me I was wrong, that I really needed to see this. They had persuaded me to a degree. If I didn’t, was I missing out? More than this, because it had been some years since that trip to Finland, how much did I actually remember? Did I need to read it again, just to preserve my own personal version of this story, before these new images were put in my mind? These are things I do worry about, so, stress number three.

I did watch the first part, and I enjoyed it. As much as the imagery is spectacular, I didn’t feel it was telling me what remembered was wrong. And so I went to see Part Two, just as good. Have my life’s principles been wrong? More stress.

And now I have to decide on the other books. But as they are books, I will need to read Dune again first as the films won’t have all the detail I need – this is spiralling out of control. Dune is a great book, but it’s very stressful.

Buy Dune – Frank Herbert

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How Far Can We Go?

Fiction is, by its very nature, made up. That means writers of stories have to convince their reader that whilst in their world what they are reading can have believably happened. This might seem easy, in theory, when dealing with the domestic; if the novel is about a couple who fall in love then (don’t call me a cynic) as this happens all the time, possibly it’s happened for the reader, then it’s conceivable some made up people have done the same thing.

However for authors of science-fiction it can take on an extra challenge. From whole worlds having to be created into which the reader has to submerse themselves, to twisting our everyday experiences into something most of us would find unbelievable. Yet not only does the reader have to accept this, so do the characters who need to be rounded and accessible and have a good reason why they would give countenance to something we would judge them for if we knew that person in normal circumstances; of course in the novel they would be right to do so and we would most probably be eaten by Chapter Five.

Even though the fictional world and those that populate it are made up, there are still rules that have to be abided by. For an author to break those rules, even if they created them themselves, they need a good reason and a method which does not cause the reader to step out of that world. This has to be played very carefully when adding twists to the plot. Twists have to not be seen coming, but in hindsight make perfect sense, a hard trick to pull off; at best the new direction of the story should be built in first and the previous deceptions in the plot thought up later.

Earlier I said that in theory stories that deal with everyday situations are easier to convince the reader to accept, but this is only in theory. Compare two examples:

In many of Shakespeare’s plays characters meet each other briefly and fall instantly in love, hopelessly devoted to each other they are then prepared to go to extreme lengths to get or stay together. Whilst “the possibility of love at first sight” is another blog in itself and totally outside of the scope of this website, on the whole Shakespeare manages to get his audience to go with it. It propels the plot forwards and the actors often do a lot of work to convince us this is so. I wonder if Shakespeare’s name can carry the weight for us to allow him to get away with things we’d be harsher on with other writers? He certainly proved he knew what he was doing.

“The very instant I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides
To make me slave to it.”
― William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Compare that, and I’m sorry to lower the tone of this a little, with a plot point from a famous worldwide TV programme, in which after many years of being on air two characters who were just, let’s say, Friends, decided to become a couple. It didn’t work out in the programme and one of them went on to fall in love with the person she was created to be in a couple with (it ended years ago, get over the spoiler). But at the time few believed this new relationship, still to this day it’s become a joke of bad plotting.

NOTE: I just want to point out I fully know that my example is not in keeping with higher literary standards I set for this blog, neither am I much of a fan of said TV programme, but it was the best example I could think of. Please don’t judge me, laughing emoji (oh dear I’ve even introduced emojis now).

Back in the world of science-fiction lots of really strange ideas have to be sold carefully because they are so different from the reality. Often we like this because we want to step away from the ongoing normality that is this world, that makes sense, but it’s not an excuse for the writer to be lazy or push things too far.

How about a story where a large number of women unknowingly fall pregnant by xenogenesis and give birth to aliens who begin to have mind control over everyone? It’s a bit of a far fetched idea, but The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham is a deservedly classic and well loved novel. The reason for this is the way Wyndham tells the story, not just because he uses the first person but his characters act and react as if they really were in a small terribly English village of the 1950s. With so much that we know and trust already there, when use of subtle but clear explanations by Wyndham describe the strange we are just as willing to go with it.

“Mrs Brant had gone into Mrs Welt’s shop one morning to find her engaged in jabbing a pin into herself again and again, and weeping as she did it. This had not seemed good to Mrs Brant, so she had dragged her off to see Willers. He gave Mrs Welt some kind of sedative, and when she felt better she had explained that in changing the baby’s napkin she had pricked him with a pin. Whereupon, by her account, the baby had just looked steadily at her with its golden eyes, and made her start jabbing the pin into herself.”
― John Wyndham, The Midwich Cuckoos

You might argue that because it’s science-fiction we are more open to unusual ideas, but does that mean we can just accept anything? I’m a big Doctor Who fan and over the years that programme has sold us the most absurd concepts, but is there a limit? In one episode first shown in 2014 we were asked to believe that the moon turned out to be an egg of a giant space creature. The episode was set in the future and at the end it hatched and immediately the new creature laid a new moon for us (I don’t care about spoilers here, the episode is terrible and again it’s been 10 years, almost). Elsewhere other creatures were said to be single celled organisms that couldn’t possibly be. At the time there was much derision over this with the makers trying to play the whole thing down claiming because it was science-fiction it didn’t have to be scientifically accurate. Whilst this is technically true, it still needs to have some credibility.

I whole heartedly agree this was an idea that should never have got passed the first writer’s meeting, but why do we find it so ridiculous? Especially compared to other things we maybe thought were clever? In 2005 it turned out the London Eye was a large alien transmitter, but we bought that one. So why is the moon as an egg too far? Like most things in writing I guess it’s a case by case issue. The context needs to be taken into consideration, can you do more silly things in a one off novel than in an ongoing series? It doesn’t seem a good enough explanation. Maybe some ideas just can’t be sold, no matter how hard you try. There’s a good lesson there.

Buy The Midwich Cuckoos – by John Wyndham