From rec.arts.sf.reviews Mon Aug 29 12:39:32 1994 Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.reviews,rec.arts.sf.written Path: news.ifm.liu.se!liuida!sunic!pipex!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!library.ucla.edu!csulb.edu!csus.edu!netcom.com!postmodern.com!not-for-mail From: gdr11@cl.cam.ac.uk (Gareth Rees) Subject: David Zindell: THE BROKEN GOD Message-ID: <33kd0t$g9d@lyra.csx.cam.ac.uk> Followup-To: rec.arts.sf.written Sender: mcb@postmodern.com (Michael C. Berch) Organization: U of Cambridge Computer Lab, UK Date: Sun, 28 Aug 1994 23:22:16 GMT Approved: mcb@postmodern.com (rec.arts.sf.reviews moderator) Lines: 136 Xref: news.ifm.liu.se rec.arts.sf.reviews:604 rec.arts.sf.written:70442 The Broken God by David Zindell A book review by Gareth Rees Copyright (c) 1994 by Gareth Rees "The Broken God" is a sequel to Zindell's 1989 novel "Neverness", a novel that seemed for me at least, to capture the excitement and enthusiasm I felt at the time for such diverse ideas as the philosophy of mathematics, theories of consciousness, arguments for and against machine intelligence, ecological holism and the Gaia hypothesis and so on. It received rave reviews from such diverse figures as Orson Scott Card and John Clute. I wrote a rave review myself. But a sequel? A sequel, moreover, that proudly proclaims itself "Book One of David Zindell's new epic trilogy, 'A Requiem for Homo Sapiens'"? I suppose the only surprising thing is that I'm still capable of getting angry about this. But I am angry that a good writer like Zindell, having exerted his imagination once, is content to sit back and do no more than write more of the same. "The Broken God" is about 200 pages longer than "Neverness", but has only about a third of the amount of plot and character that went into the earlier novel. The rest of the bulk is taken up by philosophical longuers and much discussion of the relatively few events. The main viewpoint character is Mallory's son Danlo (Mallory was the viewpoint character in "Neverness"; Danlo was supposed dead at the end of that book) who grows up with a tribe of Neanderthal-like Alaloi, but when his entire tribe is suddenly and unexpectedly wiped out by a plague he journeys by dogsled across the frozen seas to the city of Neverness, where he is befriended and taken in by a Fravashi (these being a race of philosophical aliens) who takes on the tasks of civilising Danlo, teaching him language, and doing all the other things that have to be done in novels of this sort before an initially savage character can enter into a futuristic milieu. Danlo is brilliant and gifted, enters the College of starship Pilots, and befriends another high-flier, Hanuman, to the accompaniment of lots of foreshadowing of their becoming enemies later in the book. They both become involved in a religion that worships Mallory. They become enemies. Danlo decides to set off on a long quest that we suppose will take him the better part of volume two. End of volume one. This just isn't good enough. It's filled with lazy and cliched plotting, including: * The viewpoint character is an outsider to whom the society of Neverness is unfamiliar. This is a time-honoured device providing the reader an easy introduction to a complex invented milieu, but it's patently unnecessary here as the reader of "The Broken God" almost certainly read "Neverness" first and in any case "Neverness" was perfectly understandable without such an outsider. * A noble savage from a 'primitive' society acts as a foil for a complex but venal and corrupt civilisation. * The viewpoint character is befriended by an alien father figure who expounds a vaguely Eastern philosophy. * The viewpoint character enrols in a quasi-monastic college which purveys Hermetic knowledge. * A trilogy in which the second volume is (though this is at present just a guess - I hope that Zindell will surprise me by avoiding this one) taken up by some long quest in search of a plot token (in this case a cure for the plague that has killed Danlo's tribe of Alaloi and threatens to kill other tribes) whose only purpose is keep the viewpoint character wandering around for enough to prepare the stage for volume 3. Perhaps I'm being overly picky - certainly it is possible to make use of cliches in new and interesting ways - but I think that these flaws are evidence of laziness on Zindell's part, evidence that he has chosen to rest on the laurels of his earlier book rather than pursue new ideas. I had some more fundamental disagreements with "The Broken God". The plotting is very clumsy and heavy-handed; everything has to have a significance. Many of the incidents are carefully contrived so as to enable some particular event later on (and it seems likely that some other incidents have been prepared in advence for use in volumes two and three). Well done, this kind of tight plotting can be excellent (for example, in Gene Wolfe's "Book of the New Sun"), but Zindell goes about it in a very obvious way, often to the extent of putting in authorly asides about the future significance of what is going on. Zindell feels the need to make everything in the book portentous: Danlo and Hanuman are both extremely intelligent, gifted athletes and artists, wise, popular and influential. Their friendship and enmity are important in the political and religious development of human civilisation, and it is implied that their every inner thought and moral dilemma has consequences for the future spiritual and metaphysical development of the human race. Zindell seems to think that his readers won't be interested in normal human relationships, but I found myself starving for something of the ordinary by the end of the book. And again, it is possible to do do the significance trip well; Orson Scott Card has managed it once or twice (but I suppose that given the number of times he's attempted it that's not surprising). I also had trouble with the philosophy. Actually, this isn't all bad, and Zindell at least tries to do something that I haven't seen very often before, which is to project the future of philosophical/scientific thought through at least one major paradigm shift, so that the characters in his three thousand year future don't approach the world with the rational and empirical emphasis that most sf novels take for granted (any more than someone three thousand years ago would have). The paradigm shift seems to have been some sort of scientific holism along the lines expounded by such writers as Lovelock and Josephson. It's a courageous attempt, especially when much of the talk in the novel is about the nature of human consciousness, but it didn't ring true for me that in three thousand years no-one has got any further in understanding consciousness than some form of Penrose-style mysticism in which consciousness arises from un- or ill-explained fundamental properties of subatomic particles. It also didn't ring true that everyone understands the difference between "gods" (powerful but material entities within the Universe such as Mallory Ringess, transformed by a remembrance of the Elder Eddas, or the Solid State entity, a cluster of moon-sized biocomputers) and "God" (supposed by absent creator of the Universe and inaccessible to men or gods) but that all the religions in the books worship the former and not the latter. On the whole, I don't think the philosophy works. It's not sufficiently alien or strange to be interesting of itself (much of the book reads like Tantric or Buddhist writing or imitations thereof) and it isn't relevent enough to me to be compelling; I simply can't identify at all with the philosophical dilemmas of the characters or with their sufferings. But I shall probably read volume two. If Zindell could write something good once, he might be able to try again. %A Zindell, David %T The Broken God %I HarperCollins %C New York %D 1993