Pennterra by Judith Moffett

Published by Congdon & Weed in October 1987

Isaac Asimov and Brian Aldiss are among the science fiction writers who have incorporated the Gaia theory into their writing. In Pennterra, Judith Moffett exports the concept to an alien world where everything, living and inanimate, is interrelated and in constant communication. The world of Pennterra is in perfect balance until its disruption is threatened by the technology, agriculture, and lifestyles of settlers seeking refuge from the devastated Earth they've fled.

Quakers are the first to colonize Pennterra. Before they can build their civilization, they encounter the hrossa, an intelligent species that communicates by empathy. They make peace with the hrossa, just as the Quakers who colonized Pennsylvania made peace with the Delaware Indians. To co-exist with the hrossa, the Quakers must agree to use no machinery, to limit their population growth, and to live only in a designated valley. But just as later settlers in Pennsylvania were willing to displace the Delaware, the Earth colonists who follow the Quakers are unwilling to abide by hrossa-imposed restrictions. The first part of the novel sets the stage for that conflict. The second part is written in the form of field notes as the Quakers engage in a scientific and anthropological investigation of a hrossa village. Living closely with the empathic hrossa during breeding season proves problematic, as the Quakers feel and share the intense and urgent sexual desires of the hrossa. The novel's third and final part resolves the conflict between the non-Quaker colonists and the hrossa (or more specifically, the spirit of the planet, for lack of a better brief explanation). There's also a bit of wilderness adventure toward the end.

Pennterra is the first novel written by Judith Moffett, whose background as a poet is reflected in her careful use of language. Although she makes Pennterra and the hrossa come alive, she does so without sacrificing development of the novel's human characters. This is, above all, a character driven story, and the main characters each have a unique, fully developed personality. The reader comes to know them well, and to appreciate their struggles.

Although I greatly admired Pennterra, it is not a novel that all readers will enjoy. The story unfolds slowly and is all the more enriching because of its languorous pace, but readers who want fast action in their sf won't find it here. Fans of hard sf might not like this novel; there's a bit of hard (biological) science, but the story depends on people, not science. Finally, there is a fair amount of sexual activity, some involving minors, that violates nearly every imaginable sexual taboo. If this were not a work of science fiction, there would probably be calls to ban and burn it. Science fiction is a literature of ideas, however, so I would expect most sf fans to understand and appreciate Moffett's rather daring concept: what is taboo on Earth may be accepted as normal behavior in an alien environment. Readers who would be put off by frank discussions of that nature should avoid Pennterra.

In an age when so much sf is the same old same old, Pennterra offers something completely different. It is a beautifully written, moving and thought-provoking novel.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

The Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark

 

First published in 1940

Some readers dislike The Ox-Bow Incident because they expect to find the elements of a traditional western -- morally pure heroes defeating evil outlaws in gunfights -- and are disappointed by their absence. The Ox-Bow Incident does not follow that formula. It is a novel about good (and not so good) men who do an evil thing, men who succumb to a mob mentality, who (in today's language) fear being seen as "soft on crime" and take the law into their collective hands to assure "justice." The novel is in large part a condemnation of vigilantism that, while set in the past, remains relevant to the modern world.

One of the characters in The Ox-Bow Incident complains that "law, as the books have it, is slow and full of holes." The current version of that complaint holds that "criminals have all the rights." People who utter those words forget that those rights protect the innocent from undeserved punishment. The Ox-Bow Incident reminds us that the rights conferred by law do not hinder justice; they are an indispensible component of justice. The men (and one woman) in The Ox-Bow Incident who arrogantly or blindly decide to dispense with the law because "it is slow and full of holes" learn that the law, while imperfect, is more capable of achieving justice than men handing out punishments on their own authority.

Yet The Ox-Bow Incident is more than a condemnation of vigilantism. It's also a psychological study. A reviewer here complained that the plot was too obvious, but this isn't a whodunit or a mystery. The novel isn't so much about what the men do as why they do it. Clark reveals the minds of characters who are afraid to show emotion, who connect with others only in very superficial ways. Most of the characters are constantly worrying about how they look to their peers, always ready to start a fight to defend their honor against the slightest affront to their manhood. They live in dread of their own feelings and are afraid to speak out against injustice if doing so might make them seem weak. 

While some readers find them boring, the novel's philosophical discussions are its strength. Clark didn't settle for a simplistic view of the Wild West that pits good men against evil-doers. The characters are a mixture of good and bad; even when they are basically good, they commit "sins of omission" by failing to stand up for their beliefs. One of the characters likens the posse to a wolf pack, none of its members willing to think independently for fear of being perceived as a lesser man than the rest. Other characters debate the nature of justice. One talks about how much easier it is to have physical courage than moral courage. The narrator (Croft) and another character (Sparks) wonder whether vengeance is God's work or man's.

The Ox-Bow Incident asks compelling and fundamental questions about the individual's role in society. On top of that, it's a well written story. Look elsewhere if you want to read a traditional western, but pick up The Ox-Bow Incident if you want to read an entertaining and thought-provoking novel that has something important to say about human nature.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Home Run by Gerald Seymour

Published by The Harvill Press on May 30, 1989; published in the US in 1991 under the title The Running Target

Writers of espionage novels are inevitably compared to John Le Carré, particularly if the writer is British. Gerald Seymour's writing style isn't as polished, and the characters in Home Run lack the multi-layered depth of Le Carré's best characters, but the plot and pace of Home Run are worthy of the master.

Home Run begins with the 1982 execution of a teenage girl in Iran. The rest of the novel takes place several years later. Point of view shifts frequently as two storylines unfold. One concerns a drug investigation that follows the death of a 19 year old heroin addict who overdosed. Her father, an important public official, pressures the police to make the heroin importer's arrest their top priority. The cops diligently pursue the task, grumbling all the way. The other story focuses on Matthew ("Mattie") Furniss, Head of the Iran desk at the SIS, who is being pressured by the new Director General to increase the quality of intelligence coming out of Iran. Fortunately, Furniss has cultivated a new Iranian spy, a family friend who happens to be the brother of the girl who was executed.

Home Run gets off to a conventional start, particularly with the drug investigation, where Seymour employs off-the-shelf drug cops who give the usual tiresome speeches about the evils of illicit substances. The main cop character is filled with anger and moral outrage -- traits that turn out to be necessary to the plot -- but he has the standard fictional cop's "driven by duty" personality. Seymour provided him with the familiar neglected wife who is no longer tolerant of his "job first" priorities and is making her displeasure known.

Mattie Furniss is a stronger and more interesting character; thankfully his story is at the heart of the novel. At the Director General's insistence, Furniss travels to Turkey to give a pep talk to his agents. Things do not go well for him. Back at home, bureaucrats and politicians are busily abusing their power or wielding it unwisely. There's a fascinating turf war between the self-righteous drug agents, who view the "faceless wonders" of the SIS as impeding their all-important drug investigation, and the smug SIS officers who view the drug agents as "glorified traffic wardens."

Both storylines are filled with action and tension. The pace picks up considerably by the novel's midpoint, moving with furious speed as the characters encounter realistic threats in dangerous places. Torture scenes are vivid without going too far.

Seymour uses too many comma splices, leading to awkward sentences, but that's a minor gripe. For the most part, the writing is adequate to its purpose, even if the prose doesn't soar. Stylistic lapses quickly become secondary to storylines that captivate the reader's attention.

I would enthusiastically recommend Home Run to most fans of espionage fiction, but it isn't for everyone. If you like novels in which the good guys are pure and the bad guys personify evil, this is not the book for you. There are plenty of evil bad guys, but the three main characters -- Furniss, his Iranian spy, and the drug cop -- each make questionable moral decisions. Seymour's construction of the characters and plot makes it easy to understand why they act as they do. Seymour doesn't judge them; the reader is left to decide whether each character's actions were right or wrong under the circumstances. The answers aren't necessarily clear -- I liked that, but some readers won't appreciate the moral ambiguity. As the novel's end approached, I was drawn into each character's world, fascinated by the choices they made, understanding and sympathizing with them even when I disagreed with their decisions. For all these reasons, I regard Home Run as one of the most entertaining and thought-provoking spy novels I've encountered.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Paris Trout by Pete Dexter

First published in 1988

Paris Trout runs a general store in Cottonwood Point, Georgia.  He's a racist but, more than that, he's violently paranoid and increasingly obsessed with his own fingernail clippings and urine. When a young black man buys a car from him on credit, supposedly purchasing insurance with it, and gets into an accident, Trout won't repair the car and won't let him off the hook for payments, telling him he didn't buy that kind of insurance. This leads to blood, but the victims are female members of the young man's family. Trout feels entirely justified in his actions and more than a few townspeople see things his way -- after all, a man has a right to collect his debts.

The novel follows Harry Seagraves, the best lawyer in town, as he prepares Trout's defense and during the trial and its aftermath. Seagraves takes a particular (not entirely professional) interest in Trout's wife, who is rather horrifically abused by Trout. Other notable characters include a young lawyer, Carl Bonner, the youngest Eagle Scout in Cottonwood Point's history, who tries to help Trout's wife; and Bonner's wife, who is frustrated that her husband has become such a stick-in-the-mud.

The dark humor in this novel alternates with a chilling depiction of southern racism and Trout's madness, and the characters are unforgettable. This isn't a simple-minded examination of contrived racism as some of the reviews at this site might suggest. The complex relationship between Trout and the townspeople -- they don't want to be associated with racism that's quite so overt, yet they don't want to upset such a wealthy and powerful (not to mention violent) citizen -- is deftly portrayed. Except for the clearly innocent victims, nobody gets off easily as Dexter examines the town's dynamic. This is a chilling and powerful work by a careful, evocative writer.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

The Lost Daughter of Happiness by Geling Yan

First published in 2001

The Lost Daughter of Happiness is a remarkable novel, a love story unlike any I've read. It unfolds in alternating points of view. Writing in the second person, as if she were speaking to Fusang, looking back at Fusang's life from the present day, the narrator's language is factual, unemotional, sometimes bordering on contemptuous: You are a prostitute, she says, brought to California from China, one who didn't die during the long voyage, who didn't succumb to disease or beatings after being sold into slavery. "I certainly won't let people confuse you with any of the other three thousand whores from China." Occasionally the narrator quotes histories of the California Gold Rush from which she draws her account of Fusang. Occasionally she tells Fusang tidbits about her own life as a recent Chinese immigrant, about her own perplexity understanding the ways of white people, including her husband.

The other point of view is third person, telling the story of Fusang in its own time, sometimes shifting to the lives of others, particularly Chris, the white teenager who quietly worships Fusang's beauty, whose life changes because of her. The other central character is Fusang's Chinese warlord-like kidnapper. Both men love Fusang, and to some extent hate her, in their own warped ways. Fusang, in turn, has special feelings for both men--as distinguished from the hordes of undifferentiated men who want to sleep with her, whose names she's incapable of remembering.

Whether she's describing a battle between Chinese clans (of which Fusang is the indirect cause) or the culture shock and isolation experienced by Chinese immigrants past and present, Geling writes with a fluid grace. Geling avoids sympathetic language, yet her stark portrayal of Fusang's plight is incredibly moving. Still, Geling paints Fusang as largely unaffected by pain or trauma. Fusang may just be simple-minded, but she evinces a knowingness that the other slave girls lack. She understands how to steal pleasure from pain, how to find freedom in enslavement. Unlike the other prostitutes, she's content with a diet of fish heads. There is something zen-like about her simplicity.

Geling writes powerfully about race riots in San Francisco more than a century ago and about present day skinheads who profess their racial hatred on talk shows. She writes about rape and redemption. This short but wide-ranging novel is filled with tension and ugliness while maintaining a soft, quiet tone, but it is also filled with hope and beauty. It is a stunning performance. The Lost Daughter of Happiness deserves a much larger audience.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED