August tidbits

A few weeks ago I finished reading Something More, by Paul Cornell. The first three-quarters combines a extrapolative post-apocalyptic future, a first contact story, and a haunted-British-manor tale with theological speculation about electromagnetic fields and religious experiences. It was all fairly compelling. The last section, however, takes a wild, flailing jump towards a interplanetary metaphysical epic, a crazy blend of C.S. Lewis and Philip Jose Farmer... and crashes like a graceless, aged cat with inner-ear problems to land with a resounding thump on its side, behind the sofa, amidst the dust and lost pen caps. (Or perhaps like a kite, which you've just managed to get airborne, nosediving with a horrible 'crack!' into the grass.) It might have worked if the story had been stretched out to a trilogy. Full marks for effort, and the first three quarters are quite well-written and are worth reading on their own. The religious element is thought-provoking up until that nose-dive. Some Christian readers will find the last section ridiculous and offensive, while others will just find it ridiculous. I'll say no more, since I don't think there's much I can profitably add to Stuart Carter's review over at Infinity Plus.

In other Cornell news, he's posted pictures of a new anthology which contains one of his stories. The cover features, among other things, two people waving crosses. But not in a 'I bless you in the name of Christ' kind of way, more of a crazed-superstitious-mob kind of way. Maybe they're driving out vampires. Though, from the close proximity of the crosses to a clenched fist and a gun, I wonder if this sf anthology doesn't contain some evil Christians! Might they even be, say, ignorant science-hating theocrats?

Here's a recent interview with a Christian who doesn't hate science or science fiction, namely, Gene Wolfe. It's mostly on the art and craft of writing. (One of his stories appeared in the first volume of that particular anthology, actually.)

The Matrix vs. Carl Sagan - a mashup. Now if only they could work Elrond in there somehow. "Billions and billions, Mister Baggins." (via Tom - check out his answering machines!)

Over at PodCastle, Stephen Eley reads "Cup and Table," a story by Tim Pratt about a ruthless hunt for the Grail, and by extension, for God. (Also via Tom.) With an introduction that talks about the history of the Grail (or Graal) in literature. Just a heads-up, the story itself contains some nasty language and nastier characters. Oh, and Eley's Wikipedia entry contains two religion-related factoids about him.

Lint Hatcher of Excuse Me, Ghidorah? has a new podcast in which he reads a twenty-year-old essay entitled "A Supernatural God." It's a C.S. Lewis-influenced meditation on horror and fantastic literature, a memoir of his early life up to and including college, a spiritual and psychological autobiography, and an account of his conversion to Christianity. I think I also noticed a certain Romantic influence. (via Bernhardt Varenius)

Jimmy Akin, Catholic blogger extraordinaire and confirmed sf fan, has new posts about Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, and Children of the Mind. (via the Sci-Fi Catholic)

As for me, I'm currently trying to avoid thinking about fall, and reading Ubik.

Speaker for the Dead

"Dom Cristao, the abbot of the Filhos da Mente de Cristo - he says that they must lack the moral sense. He says this may mean they are beasts. Or it may mean that they are unfallen, having not yet eaten of the fruit of the forbidden tree." She smiled tightly. "But that's theology, and so it means nothing to you."

He did not answer. He was used to the way religious people assumed that their sacred stories must sound absurd to unbelievers. But Ender did not consider himself an unbeliever, and he had a keen sense of the sacredness of many tales. But he could not explain this to Bosquinha. She would have to change her assumptions about him over time. She was suspicious of him, but he believed she could be won; to be a good Mayor, she had to be skilled at seeing people for what they are, not for what they seem.

He turned the subject. "The Filhos da Mente de Cristo-- my Portuguese isn't strong, but does that mean 'Sons of the Mind of Christ'?"

"They're a new order, relatively speaking, formed only four hundred years ago under a special dispensation of the Pope--"

"Oh, I know the Children of the Mind of Christ, Mayor. I Spoke the death of San Angelo on Moctezuma, in the city of Cordoba."

Speaker For the Dead, by Orson Scott Card.

I'd forgotten how many religious references there were in this book. I'd also forgotten that it won (and deserved!) both the Hugo and the Nebula Awards.