Mar. 24th, 2014
Recently Completed #4.5
Mar. 24th, 2014 01:49 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
Somewhere in all this posting about the non-fiction I've read, I forgot to mention Leigh Brackett's Science Fiction novel, The Long Tomorrow. I picked this up because I hadn't read anything by her before.
On the whole, it's a perfectly decent SF novel. It's post-apocalyptic with the protagonist, Len Colter, and his best friend trying to escape their narrow, God-fearing society for the illusory Bartorstown, a sanctuary where knowledge is kept alive and questions will be answered. When Bartorstown is found, it turns out to be and not to be everything that was hoped for.
Where I found the book disappointing was, firstly, in the narrowness of characterisation offered to the female characters. There's Len's grandmother, who cares only about the lost luxuries of the past, his cipher of a mother, and the two girls he gets involved with, one of whom leads him along only to pass him up for his pal, and the other of whom uses him to escape Bartorstown. Eventually, of course, he gets the upper hand in their relationship. For Bartorstown is just like the outside world in one important respect: men are in charge. There's science being done, but it's all being done by men. In short, there's really nothing to differentiate this novel from one written by Clarke or Asimov.
Plus all the religious stuff is, as ever, dull and eyerollingly irritating. Sometimes I think American SF is also trapped in the Bible Belt.
On the whole, it's a perfectly decent SF novel. It's post-apocalyptic with the protagonist, Len Colter, and his best friend trying to escape their narrow, God-fearing society for the illusory Bartorstown, a sanctuary where knowledge is kept alive and questions will be answered. When Bartorstown is found, it turns out to be and not to be everything that was hoped for.
Where I found the book disappointing was, firstly, in the narrowness of characterisation offered to the female characters. There's Len's grandmother, who cares only about the lost luxuries of the past, his cipher of a mother, and the two girls he gets involved with, one of whom leads him along only to pass him up for his pal, and the other of whom uses him to escape Bartorstown. Eventually, of course, he gets the upper hand in their relationship. For Bartorstown is just like the outside world in one important respect: men are in charge. There's science being done, but it's all being done by men. In short, there's really nothing to differentiate this novel from one written by Clarke or Asimov.
Plus all the religious stuff is, as ever, dull and eyerollingly irritating. Sometimes I think American SF is also trapped in the Bible Belt.