Notes on Charles Stross' Glasshouse
I just got done reading Glasshouse by Charles Stross and while I am finding that I am enjoying his books, I didn't like this one quite so well as Accelerando. Or, rather, I really, really enjoyed the first half of Glasshouse and found the second half tolerable but quite weak compared to the first half of the book.
But, first, I will reveal something you might not realize about Stross. His futurism is based off of D&D. No, seriously! His sci-fi seems to involve instant teleportation, frequent resurrection and instantly producing material technology. It's teleport circles, true resurrection and hero's feast on a broad scale - I feel his futurism is basically a really well thought out D&D game, hehe. My tongue is only half in my cheek, there. (Also, edit: Stross came 'round and told me this is not true. D'oh!)
The first half of the book is what I think is best out of science-fiction - using a fictional future to say something about the present. Indeed, one of the "problems" I had with Accelerando was that I felt that Stross (and virtually all the modern generation of sci-fi writers, like Vinge and Reynolds) used the technologically bizarre to detract from the basic social irrelevance of their work while people pretend that it's about important things. (F'rex, all the modern sci-fi stuff about nanotechnology - never before has a technology that's done so little gone so far in literature. We can basically do almost nothing useful with nanotechnology, but sci-fi writers dream up these magical scenarios where nanotechnology can do anything and everything. It can make people gods or destroy the world in a variety of gray goo scenarios. Mind you, we can do basically nothing with it right now. But discussions of gray goo scenarios give a fictional depth to a book. There happens a lot in modern sci-fi literature, I feel.) Stross totally doesn't do that in Glasshouse. The first half of the book is about a man who is turned into a woman and who lives in a town where (as an experiment) where they recreate a version of the late 20th to early 21st centuries. The male-to-female character (the protagonist isn't particularly bothered by being a woman, tho' he's annoyed at the lack of upper body strength) is forced to endure the indignities that modern women face - and is horrified at it. All the crazy things our society forces on women the character encounters and calls them what they are: insane. The character having to overcome the social and psychological limitations of being a woman while trapped in this nightmarish experiment is just top notch science-fiction. The character comes off as sensitive, troubled and strong all at the same time, and Stross doesn't shy away from the emotional consequences - while at the same time as holding up a mirror to our own society. Great stuff.
But the second part of the book is a really, well, a weakly plotted spy adventure. Too much of the plot depends on the antagonists on being complete and total idiots. I mean - spoiler alert here - the plot depends on the antagonists refusing to put decent locks on a Santa Claus machine. There's a universal replicator that the protagonist gets a hold of that has . . . virtually no security. The bad guys are supposed to be these covert ops/psywar types, but they don't put any security on the sole universal replicator, not even a couple of androids with machineguns or something that wouldn't compromise their privacy while providing security. And the long jump teleport gate that ended up being vital for them to control didn't have a good, secure door on it. Mind you, the "glasshouse" in question is a British military term for a military prison - and that's what it was. Where all these shenanigans took place is an old military prison.
Could you imagine a prison hiding a universal replicator in the yard with virtually no security? Or there being almost no security between the cells and the administrative area?
Stross clearly has mastered the language of espionage - what's up with these British sci-fi writers? it's like every one of them has swallowed a dictionary and will use a long, complex word of Latin or Greek origin when a short, common word of Saxon origin would be at least as good (hell, I should probably get some literature on the Saxon language if I love it so much, and I seem to do so, hehe) - but his espionage villains are stupid. The whole thing hinged on a contemptible lack of even the most basic security.
However, overall, the strengths of the book far outweigh the weaknesses. While the villains were sorta dumb, I didn't really find anything offensive in that stupidity (and I often do) - and the strengths of the book, particularly the first half, more than make up for some dumb villains. By the time the villains got dumb, I was already so invested in the characters that I was more than willing to let a little stupidity slide by the way. ;)
But, first, I will reveal something you might not realize about Stross. His futurism is based off of D&D. No, seriously! His sci-fi seems to involve instant teleportation, frequent resurrection and instantly producing material technology. It's teleport circles, true resurrection and hero's feast on a broad scale - I feel his futurism is basically a really well thought out D&D game, hehe. My tongue is only half in my cheek, there. (Also, edit: Stross came 'round and told me this is not true. D'oh!)
The first half of the book is what I think is best out of science-fiction - using a fictional future to say something about the present. Indeed, one of the "problems" I had with Accelerando was that I felt that Stross (and virtually all the modern generation of sci-fi writers, like Vinge and Reynolds) used the technologically bizarre to detract from the basic social irrelevance of their work while people pretend that it's about important things. (F'rex, all the modern sci-fi stuff about nanotechnology - never before has a technology that's done so little gone so far in literature. We can basically do almost nothing useful with nanotechnology, but sci-fi writers dream up these magical scenarios where nanotechnology can do anything and everything. It can make people gods or destroy the world in a variety of gray goo scenarios. Mind you, we can do basically nothing with it right now. But discussions of gray goo scenarios give a fictional depth to a book. There happens a lot in modern sci-fi literature, I feel.) Stross totally doesn't do that in Glasshouse. The first half of the book is about a man who is turned into a woman and who lives in a town where (as an experiment) where they recreate a version of the late 20th to early 21st centuries. The male-to-female character (the protagonist isn't particularly bothered by being a woman, tho' he's annoyed at the lack of upper body strength) is forced to endure the indignities that modern women face - and is horrified at it. All the crazy things our society forces on women the character encounters and calls them what they are: insane. The character having to overcome the social and psychological limitations of being a woman while trapped in this nightmarish experiment is just top notch science-fiction. The character comes off as sensitive, troubled and strong all at the same time, and Stross doesn't shy away from the emotional consequences - while at the same time as holding up a mirror to our own society. Great stuff.
But the second part of the book is a really, well, a weakly plotted spy adventure. Too much of the plot depends on the antagonists on being complete and total idiots. I mean - spoiler alert here - the plot depends on the antagonists refusing to put decent locks on a Santa Claus machine. There's a universal replicator that the protagonist gets a hold of that has . . . virtually no security. The bad guys are supposed to be these covert ops/psywar types, but they don't put any security on the sole universal replicator, not even a couple of androids with machineguns or something that wouldn't compromise their privacy while providing security. And the long jump teleport gate that ended up being vital for them to control didn't have a good, secure door on it. Mind you, the "glasshouse" in question is a British military term for a military prison - and that's what it was. Where all these shenanigans took place is an old military prison.
Could you imagine a prison hiding a universal replicator in the yard with virtually no security? Or there being almost no security between the cells and the administrative area?
Stross clearly has mastered the language of espionage - what's up with these British sci-fi writers? it's like every one of them has swallowed a dictionary and will use a long, complex word of Latin or Greek origin when a short, common word of Saxon origin would be at least as good (hell, I should probably get some literature on the Saxon language if I love it so much, and I seem to do so, hehe) - but his espionage villains are stupid. The whole thing hinged on a contemptible lack of even the most basic security.
However, overall, the strengths of the book far outweigh the weaknesses. While the villains were sorta dumb, I didn't really find anything offensive in that stupidity (and I often do) - and the strengths of the book, particularly the first half, more than make up for some dumb villains. By the time the villains got dumb, I was already so invested in the characters that I was more than willing to let a little stupidity slide by the way. ;)