"The trouble is not in dying for a friend, but in finding a friend worth dying for": Project Hail Mary

This is the second movie made from one of Andy Weir's books, after 2015's The Martian. The settings are different, but the plots are similar: someone faced with a near-insurmountable problem he has to science his way out of. The stakes are a little higher in this one: The Martian's Mark Watney was an astronaut stranded on Mars all by his lonesome, who would have starved had the world not pulled together to rescue him. In contrast, Hail Mary's Ryland Grace has to solve the problem of an alien "astrophage" that is colonizing and dimming the sun, the consequence of which will be the freezing of Earth and the extinction of the human race and all life on the planet if he cannot figure out a way to stop it. 

(Yeah, no pressure, right? Also, another similarity is the main character: a Competent White Guy. Of course, Andy Weir is a White Guy, so that's what he wrote. The layers surrounding this are an entirely different conversation, however, one I am not having right now.)

I saw this film in a giant IMAX theater, and let me start by saying it is gorgeous. The colors are crisp and clear, and the practical sets--there doesn't seem to be much CGI in this, except obviously for the exterior space shots--are well designed and much appreciated. It's a good thing Ryan Gosling makes an excellent Ryland Grace, the science teacher forced into the role of astronaut and savior of humanity (and other beings) because he is on the screen nearly one hundred percent of the time. It's a very good performance throughout. Unfortunately, the Academy tends to overlook lead actors in SF films come award time (although with Michael B. Jordan's Best Actor win this year for Sinners, one hopes that might be changing), but I wonder if the studio will make a push for a Best Actor nomination for Gosling next year. As far as I am concerned, his performance deserves it.

I am aware there's been some rumblings about inaccurate science in this film. In particular, PZ Myers at Pharyngula tossed off a disgruntled--nay, disgusted--post on the subject. (Short version: the premise is garbage and the movie is fucking stupid.) Of course, this view is perfectly valid, as he's looking at the film from the perspective of a scientist and evolutionary biologist. I'm sure movies such a viewpoint can approve of are few and far between. 

However, that's not how I'm looking at it. Look, I read a lot of SF every year, and I've resigned myself to the fact that nearly every science fiction book and story I read is going to have inaccurate science, to a greater or lesser degree. I'm personally fond of space opera stories, and one of the central tenets of that genre--FTL travel--is not allowed by the laws of physics as we currently understand them. That doesn't stop me from loving well-written space operas (a recent example: Claire North's fantastic Slow Gods, with her extradimensional "arcspace"). My "fucking stupid" boundaries are different than PZ's, but I definitely have them. (Just ask me how stupid Independence Day: Resurgence was. 🙄)

For me, however, this film does not cross those boundaries.

That's because the plot of Project Hail Mary and the story are to me two different things. The plot is A to B to C, this happens and causes D effect, and then E happens; or, X problem pops up and is solved, leading to Y problem, and then the big ZZ problem at the climax. But that's not the story.

The story is this:

1) Ryland Grace's friendship with Rocky the alien; and 

2) As a direct result of that friendship, how Ryland grows from a milquetoast, non-confrontational, even cowardly person to a person who will take his ship to rescue his friend, his own life be damned. 

That's the story, and Project Hail Mary delivers.

Viewed from this perspective, the movie is as much a character study as it is an SF blockbuster. I mean, you have a guy who is terrified at the idea of going into space, who is so scared that during the flashback scene after the scientist on the three-person Hail Mary team is killed, and Ryland is the only one availble to meet the extremely tight launch window--never mind that he's not an astronaut--and if he refuses he is literally dooming the human race to death in thirty years--even then, he says no over and over again, stating "I don't have it in me," and they have to chase him down, drug him, and drag him aboard the Hail Mary. (Which is not a great look for the mission commander, but really, what else could she do? She was also trusting Ryland not to slit his wrists when he woke up aboard the Hail Mary and realized what had been done to him.) 

But as one of the key lines in the film proclaims (paraphrasing): "You can be brave if you find someone to be brave for," and this is what happens to Ryland Grace. His relationship with Rocky (I'm almost cringing at the thought of calling it an "alien bromance," but that's exactly what it is), enables him to first, solve the astrophage problem; and secondly, after he and Rocky part and Ryland realizes the solution to the problem will infect Rocky's ship, strand him in space, and lead to his slow death by radiation exposure and starvation, Ryland makes the film's central choice. He loads his data and the engineered astrophage predators onto four probes (named John, Paul, George and Ringo after the Beatles) and sends them on their way to Earth; and knowing he doesn't have enough fuel to get home if he goes to rescue Rocky....he takes off to rescue Rocky anyway. 

Personally, I can overlook a lot of bad science for a story like that. Yes, Ryland, you did have it in you after all.

This film is a box-office hit, and it deserves to be. If, like PZ Myers, you can't get past the bad science, that's fine. But I think you're missing out on someting special.

 

Review: Absolute Wonder Woman, Vol. 2: As My Mothers Made Me

Absolute Wonder Woman, Vol. 2: As My Mothers Made Me by Kelly Thompson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Absolute Wonder Woman Vol. 1: The Last Amazon was one of the best graphic novels I read last year, and this volume continues that excellence. In this volume, Diana of Themiscyra, stolen from her mother and sisters as a baby, raised by the sorceress Circe in Hell, called Diana, witch of the Wild Isle, daughter of Circe and (she thinks) last of the Amazons, begins her search for her sisters. This leads her to a labyrinth where she meets a bull-headed monster, Ferdinand, pursued by "fish-men," and the sorceress Clea, who rules over the labyrinth with an iron fist. Clea throws Diana down a well, where Diana finds a secret society of survivors trying to tunnel their way out--and Io, one of her sisters. Diana spins up a magic ball to break through the labyrinth and free these people, and goes back to rescue Ferdinand.

At this story's climax, we get another example of how this series' writer, Kelly Thompson, understands the character of Wonder Woman so well. Instead of killing Clea, Diana breaks open one of the tunnels and floods the labyrinth with the sea, freeing Clea and her minions, taking a chance that even though Clea was a monster inside, she will not be one now that she is free. Along this line, as another exploration of the love and compassion that is Diana's heart, we have a flashback to one of her earlier tests as a child in Hell, where she met the goddess Artemis as a snapping bloody-fanged panther and had to stand up for one of the island animals who is her friends.

What really stands out in this volume, for me, is the art. It's not the typical nine or six square panels, at all. Each two-page spread has its own design, from circles to angles to triangles to loops. It's fascinating how the artist, Hayden Sherman, juggles all these different page spreads while enabling the reader to still follow the story. It's worth taking time to go back and look at each page, savoring how the pieces fit together to draw the eye and move the story forward.

I preordered this volume from my local bookstore as soon as I heard it was being released, and I'm glad I did. The back blurb says Absolute Wonder Woman won an Eisner Award for Best New Series, and it is well deserved. This series is ongoing, and I will continue to buy the collected volumes as long as they are coming out.

View all my reviews

Review: Jitterbug

Jitterbug by Gareth L. Powell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I have several of Gareth L. Powell's books. He has written series in the past, but his last couple of books have been standalones, which is a good thing in my mind. (Just looking at Brandon Sanderson's fifty-pound bricks exhausts me.) That continues to be the case with this book, a one-and-done space opera with a few timey-wimey twists at the end.

This story also falls in the category of....I don't know if you could really call it Big Dumb Objects, because the objects that make up what Powell calls the Swirl are actually pretty interesting. They're the remnants of the outer planets (Pluto, the Oort Cloud, Neptune, Saturn and Jupiter) which were taken apart by--something--a hundred years ago and re-formed into several segments facing and orbiting the Sun. These segments are so unimaginably huge (hundreds of millions of miles long and wide) that they hold their own atmospheres and are inhabitable. In fact, humanity has begun doing just that: leaving Earth and Luna and settling on these segments, building towns and planting crops and making lives for themselves. (Since Mars is also unraveling and humans don't have the slightest idea how this is done or how to stop it, the unspoken horrific expectation is that eventually Earth will be taken apart as well and the Swirl will be the only place humans can live.) The Swirl has become the Wild West of the outer solar system, a place where people can disappear into a segment that can hold a million Earths and never be found again.

Our main POV character is Copernicus Brown, the captain of the titular sentient starship Jitterbug and a bounty hunter who tracks down the outlaws who attempt to disappear into the Swirl. Following a successful bounty, Copernicus and his crew are on their way back to Luna when they run across a ship under attack by pirates. They divert to render assistance, only to discover when they get there that both the ship who called for help and the pirate ship have been taken apart by an unseen third vessel that cut them both open like tin cans and disappeared. The Jitterbug comes under attack by one of the last survivors of the pirates and one of her crew members is killed. Upon scanning the mangled ships another survivor is found hiding in a water tank. Copernicus goes to set this person free, and finds a woman calling herself Amber Roth who is claiming to be a captive of the pirates and who attempted to escape. But Amber Roth has secrets of her own, as evidenced when the Jitterbug scans her and sees an encrypted data crystal in her stomach, which she apparently swallowed when the pirates attacked.

This one fateful decision sets the plot in motion, as Copernicus and the Jitterbug's crew soon realize they have stumbled upon a system-wide conspiracy involving the higher-ups at the Solar Assembly, the organization tasked with managing the Swirl and space travel. This chip holds evidence that something is coming, that a huge object a thousand miles wide is on its way insystem. The Jitterbug and her crew are tracked down by the Deputy Speaker of the Solar Assembly, Danielle Lanzo, and tasked with meeting this object, which the Solar Assembly thinks may be an alien ship, for first contact. But there are other players who wish to get there first, and the plot becomes a race between the Jitterbug and these other players, some of whom are willing to kill to protect their place in line.

The final third of the book details Copernicus Brown and his ship meeting the alien object, and the reveal involves the timey-wimey shenanigans I spoke of earlier. There are also other aliens inbound to Earth, a locust-like species that strips planets of every resource, murders the inhabitants, and leaves the solar system with nothing but burned ruins behind. Copernicus and the Jitterbug (or a couple different alternate versions of them) are trying to rescue the human race.

As usual with this author, the sentient starship Jitterbug is a major player in her own right. Powell likes several alternating first-person viewpoints in his stories, and in this one there are clear differences between the characters and their voices (especially Danielle Lanzo's). Some of the ideas in this book could have actually used more room to explore, but this story, also typical of Powell, is a lean and mean 300 pages.

I think my favorite work of Powell's is still his Embers of War trilogy, but this one is right up there. If you're a fan of space opera, you won't go wrong with this.

View all my reviews

Review: Slow Gods

Slow Gods by Claire North
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I'd never read any of this author's work before, but after seeing a couple of glowing reviews I decided to take a chance on it. I'm glad I did, as it's one of the best books I've read so far this year.

This is a space opera, but it's unlike any space opera I've ever read before. Most space operas have casts of thousands and galactic- or universe-wide stakes. This book has plenty of characters, but it's told entirely through the eyes of one Mawukana na-Vdnaze, a protagonist who starts out as human, then becomes something utterly inhuman, and is slowly working his way back to something close to human as the story ends. This is all summed up in a terrific opening line: "My name is Mawukana na-Vdnaze, and I am a very poor copy of myself."

It's also the story of the Shine, a fascistic interplanetary regime who commits atrocities against its own people and who is brought down in the end. It is brought down by a huge, ancient artificial intelligence called the Slow, who traverses the cosmos and tends to descend on settled planets to warn them of momentous upcoming events. In the story, the Slow may as well be a god, given how it seems to predict the future and manipulates events...and possibly manipulated Mawukana's existence and life. That is left ambiguous in the story, but the implication is definitely there.

It's also the story of the author's version of FTL travel, known as arcspace: an alternate dimension that ships use to jump across the lightyears, which can only be accessed by a ship operated by an organic Pilot. In the Shine, people are forced into this position and used until they die and/or go insane. Mawukana was a Shine Pilot, and on one arcspace jump he died. Then something in those fathomless depths brought him back to life, recreating him out of the stuff of arcspace itself, leaving him immortal and impossible to kill, and utterly inhuman. At the beginning of the book, he is pretty much an inhuman monster, and over the course of the story he becomes....less so. He learns to feel, to regret, to help others--and even to love, a love so profound it will guide him through the rest of his days.

All these elements are brought together by the chunk of hard SF that sets off the plot: a binary star system collapses on itself, and the resulting shock waves of radiation will obliterate all life within an 83 light-year radius. This includes several Shine worlds, and the Shine, as befits a corporate fascist, refuses to acknowledge this is happening (at least for its employees and its indentured workers/slaves--its Managers and Executors get free rides out, of course). The Slow is the one who warns the people in these various systems of what is coming, and it is the Slow who orchestrates the downfall of the Shine, sacrificing (Mawukana figures) nearly two billion people to save many billions more.

This story is beautifully told, with lovely prose and many different, well-thought-out and fascinating cultures. Time-wise, it covers over two hundred years, the entirety of Mawukana's life and then some. It's not flashy or bursting with glorious battles, but it grows on you from that opening line. This is a terrific story that gets my highest recommendation.

View all my reviews

Review: Oathbound

Oathbound by Tracy Deonn
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This book, the third in the young-adult Legendborn Cycle, succumbs to what could be called "creeping-pageism." That is, each successive book veers more and more into Brandon Sanderson-style brickbat territory, since this book is a whopping 642 pages.

Unfortunately, I don't think the ever-expanding length does the story any favors. The pacing is my major issue with this book, as so many of the scenes and conversations meander on and on for pages and don't need to. If you're invested in the characters, as I suppose I still am, you can give the book a bit of a side-eye and overlook this, but I can also envison a newbie to this series putting the book down in frustration. (Not to mention that you absolutely should not start the series with this book; it sorely needs a "the story so far" prologue. I don't know why series authors are so resistant to this.) It's not till the last quarter of the book that the story really gets going, and it took me several days to work my way through the previous three-quarters.

Which is too bad, as both the main protagonists Bree Matthews and Nick Davis go through some nice character development, and another main character, Selwyn Kane, becomes at the very least an anti-hero and possibly an all-out villain, due to a...rather frustrating plot twist in the book's final pages. The secret Arthurian society that rejected Bree, the reborn Arthur Pendragon, as their ruler, still has their racist and misogynist head up their ass, as they will not accept a young Black woman as their leader. This all seems to be setting up an explosive fourth book, but I really wish this one hadn't dragged so much to get there.

All of which is a roundabout way of saying that I didn't like this book nearly as much as the first two. I hope the series isn't getting into diminishing-returns territory, as the first book in particular was very affecting. We shall see.



View all my reviews

Review: Snake-Eater

Snake-Eater by T. Kingfisher
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

T. Kingfisher regularly writes whimsical fantasies (when she's not venturing into gut-churning horror) with mature protagonists and dogs that don't die. This is another one of those, as close to a "cozy" fantasy as we're ever likely to see from her. (It's also got a terrific cover, depicting a roadrunner, a nasty miniature dinosaur that does in fact regularly hunt and kill rattlesnakes.)

This time around, our protagonist is Selena, a woman who comes across as somewhere on the autism spectrum or at least neurodivergent, who flees an emotionally abusive relationship to visit her aunt Amelia, who lives in Quartz Creek, a tiny, isolated Southwestern town. She uses nearly the last of her money to get there, only to find that her aunt died the year before. She does not know what to do, but a couple of the people she meets in town urge her to stay at least the night in her aunt's empty house (including her closest neighbor, Grandma Billy, who is an unmitigated delight). Selena stays the one night, which gradually morphs into more and more nights as she meets and makes friends with more people in Quartz Creek. (She does not want to return to her former partner Walter, who we don't meet until nearly the end of the book, where he turns out to be a patronizing, gaslighting SOB who Selena is well rid of.) Selena had contemplated moving on after she found out about her aunt's death, but as the days slowly slide by and she settles in despite herself, she begins to imagine making a life in Quartz Creek.

Of course, it isn't that easy. She gradually discovers there are spirits in the desert, including a little "squash god" caring for the garden she plants in the back yard. There is also a rather more malevolent spirit, the titular Snake-Eater, a roadrunner god who we discover manifested in physical form and had a relationship with her aunt. Snake-Eater thinks Selena has come to take her aunt's place, and the storyline turns into her struggle to be free of him.

Throughout, the author exhibits a sense of droll humor about all this that had me laughing out loud several times. For instance:

"He's a god," said Grandma reasonably. "Or nearly one, anyway. I've never been clear on the difference. Maybe a spirit instead, though I call him a god to be polite."

"You're saying...there's a god...in my garden." Selena hoped the words did not sound as mad out loud as in her head.

"Nothing to worry about. It's not like he's gonna be peeping at you in the shower. And if he likes you, you'll get a better crop than you might otherwise."

As the story progresses, Snake-Eater becomes more obsessed with Selena, leading to a confrontation in another world with the roadrunner god, Selena, Grandma Billy, and Father Aguirre (another delightful character, who turns out to be a were-javelina). Selena ends up shooting Snake-Eater and weakening him to the point where he won't be a bother to her or anyone else during her lifetime. She returns to Quartz Creek, looks at the home and friends she has made, and decides to stay.

There isn't any romance in this one (and may I say that I really like the author's understated, slow burn, mature romances) because it isn't necessary. Selena's entire character arc is learning to trust herself and the friends she makes in Quartz Creek, and stepping out from under Walter's--and ultimately Snake-Eater's--shadow. These are relatively small stakes, but they're no less important to the characters and the story. This is a delightful little book, highly recommended.



View all my reviews

Review: Hole in the Sky

Hole in the Sky by Daniel H. Wilson
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I had high hopes for this book, since I own the author's Robopocalypse and Robogenesis. However, while it had a fairly solid setup, the ending fell flat for me.

This may be because the book is primarily a thriller, and written in a very cinematic way, as if it's a not very subtle pitch to be a blockbuster movie. There are four main characters: 1) the Man Downstairs, who observes and babysits a quantum computer deep underground who has tapped into the forward-background flow of time in the universe and makes predictions that always come true. Lately, the Pattern, as it's called, has been spouting gibberish that gradually becomes not-gibberish, evolving into the readable thoughts of....something. Something the Pattern has tapped into that terrifies the Man Downstairs; 2) Gavin Clark, an agent for the Department of Defense who investigates what used to be called Unidentified Flying Objects, and who is dispatched by the Man Downstairs with a Pattern-derived warning of "first contact imminent"; 3) Mikayla Johnson, a project manager with the Voyager team at Nasa Johnson Space Center who stumbles across anomalous data in the Voyager readouts, data that points to one thng: a large object headed our way; and 4) Jim Hardgray, a Cherokee man trying to reconcile with his estranged daughter Tawny, who gets caught up in the whirlwind of planet-altering events when the unidentified object detected by Mikayla Johnson reaches Earth and touches down at the Spiro Mound, an ancient buried Native city in Oklahoma.

All well and good, so far. This is a story of first contact, and all the worldwide upheaval that would entail. The descriptions of how it is discovered, and how the nations of the world prepare for it (the United States, per usual, immediately starts gearing up for war) is what makes this book more of a thriller than a SF story, at least at first. However, it's when the object reaches Earth and lands literally atop the Spiro Mounds is when the disappointment begins setting in, at least for me. Because it's at that point that the story takes a turn into mysticism and extradimenionsional Lovecraftian entities, and that simply didn't set well with me.

Look, I understand why the story took the turn it did. The author is an enrolled member of the Cherokee nation, and the swerve the story takes is drawn directly from the history, myths and legends of the Cherokee people. I don't want to sound like I'm putting any of that down. But as the characters descend into the hidden underground city of the Spiro Mounds, we discover that all the tunnels and chambers here, once mapped and revealed, show an ancient extradimensional reality-bending...god-brain asleep under the Earth's surface? A god-brain linked to a ship apparently made out of nanotechnology, that the Voyager probes reaching beyond our solar system woke up and compelled to return home? And said god-brain can be manipulated by the thoughts and desires of Jim Hardgray, in much the same way his ancestors evidently sang it to sleep fifteen thousand years ago, to the point where he can not only use the god-brain's power to recreate the bomb meant to destroy it, but also to resurrect his deceased son, dead for two years?

I mean, especially that last, that's not going to come back to bite humanity in the ass. No sirree.

Well, due to Jim Hardgray's knowledge of the ancient Cherokee language and stories, the god-brain is defeated...kinda? At least until Jim's son realizes what he really is, which I guess could be the storyline for a sequel if the author ever wished to write it. And the chapters of all those extradimensional reality-twisting alien horrors coming to life are well-written and dripping with atmosphere. But as far as I am concerned, the climax of the book does not live up to all that came before, which is a shame. (For a really excellent Native-authored fantasy combining horror with searing commentary on this country's Native American genocide, try Stephen Graham Jones' The Buffalo Hunter Hunter. You won't regret it.)

View all my reviews

Review: Outlaw Planet

Outlaw Planet by M.R. Carey
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book is set in the author's Pandominion universe. It is not the third book in the series, and is pretty much a self-contained stand-alone. I own the two Pandominion books but have not yet read them. However, I enjoyed this so much those books have been bumped up my TBR pile, and I daresay I will go hunting down the author's other books as well.

This is the story of multiversal travel to the titular "outlaw planet," where time works very differently--i.e., much faster--than the rest of the Pandominion. We have a weird Western, genetic engineering, an eternal war that is fought over and over again, artificial intelligence, mind control, and at the heart a thousand-year-old war crime that is slowly unraveled with fair clues and deft pacing, leading to a climax where the protagonists struggle and sacrifice to do what is right and save the planet's indigenous population.

Our protagonist is Dog-Bitch Bess, a genetically engineered, uplifted Labrador, made sentient and bipedal like all the planet's other inhabitants. She is introduced via a five-page prologue that is like a Western tall tale, and it's only when you get to the end of the book that you can reread it with fresh eyes. The entire first few chapters of the book are like that, laying out the worldbuilding and the background of Bess's life in a deliberate, old-fashioned manner. The fact that we are told right away that our main characters are not human beings is a clever way of drawing the reader in, and the rest of the worldbuilding is revealed in the same steady peeling of layers. Bess, or Elizabeth Indigo Sandpiper, leaves home and takes a job teaching in a small town of Ottomankie, in the southern district called the Echelon. She spends nine years there, falling in love with her fellow teacher Martha Good, while in the background the rumblings of civil war between the Echelon and the northern Parity territory are slowly brought to the forefront. When the civil war breaks out, Martha is killed, and Elizabeth in her grief turns outlaw and vows revenge, becoming the notorious irregular Dog-Bitch Bess.

There are many more layers than this to the story, of course, and each one is fascinating. There is so-called "Precursor" tech, from a high-technology past scattered across the continent, in the form of incredibly tall white dream-towers that do....what? We find out, and the answer is chilling. There are sentient drones and high-powered weapons, the latter of which provides our second protagonist, the gun Wakeful Slim that becomes Bess's companion and friend. There are the Pugfaces, wandering tribes that are just a little bit different than the rest of the uplifted animals, and when their origins are revealed they tie back in with that same thousand-year-old mystery. There is Bess's obsession with revenge for the loss of her lover, a revenge that is slowly turned as she understands just what has been done to her and the rest of the people on her world. Instead of looking inward to her personal hatred, she begins to look outward, and vows to bring the dream-towers down. And this is the story of how Bess, Wakeful Slim, and the Pugface engineer Dima Saraband do just that.

This is not a fast-paced narrative, and given the depths of the worldbuilding and mystery, it shouldn't be. Don't get impatient as you read it. As the clues are laid and the secrets are revealed, the story becomes incredibly satisfying. It all comes to a head in a poignant two-page epilogue which might bring a tear to your eye (it did mine). Those emotions are fully earned. I didn't expect to get this kind of story, but damn if it wasn't one of the best books I've read so far this year.



View all my reviews

Review: Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It

Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It by Cory Doctorow
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Cory Doctorow coined the word "enshittification" in 2022, and it is defined thusly by Wikipedia:

"Enshittification, also known as crapification and platform decay, is a process in which two-sided online products and services decline in quality over time. Initially, vendors create high-quality offerings to attract users, then they degrade those offerings to better serve business customers, and finally degrade their services to users and business customers to maximize short-term profits for shareholders."

This book expands on that, explaining exactly how this works and giving four detailed examples: Facebook, Amazon, Apple's iPhone, and Twitter. It is no coincidence that the people running these entities are four of the worst people on the planet: Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos, Tim Cook and Elon Musk. If there ever was a proof that "absolute power corrupts absolutely," it's these four.

Most of this book will simply set your hair on fire, as Doctorow lays out how corporations screw over everyone else. There are far too many horrifying details to list, but I think this quote from p. 100 pretty much sums it up.

The CEOs who do this got their MBAs at Darth Vader University, where the first lesson is "I'm altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further." It works with surprising consistency, and tech executives are so confident in the lessons of the Darth Vader MBA that they come over all affronted and hurt when their customers balk.

The news is not quite all dire, of course--this is pointed out in Part Four, The Cure. This goes into various antitrust actions around the world, with particular emphasis on Europe (which is light-years beyond the US, both law- and regulation-wise). Still, this book is a depressing read, as it shows clearly that after four years of vigorous antitrust actions and enforcement by the Biden administration, this country has backslid terribly (which is no more to be expected, with an ignorant entitled asshole trust fund reality show manbaby taking back the office). I don't know if we'll ever be able to claw ourselves out of this mess, but this book shows the way to do it, if you can get past your initial rage over what is happening.


View all my reviews

Review: Absolute Superman, Vol. 1: Last Dust of Krypton

Absolute Superman, Vol. 1: Last Dust of Krypton by Jason Aaron
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is the third of DC's All In reboot/reimagining universe that I've so far read, and while Absolute Wonder Woman is by far the best, this one does come in second. (The best-selling title of the series is apparently Absolute Batman, which puzzles me, as I didn't like that at all.) The gimmick of the series is taking familiar characters and completely upending their origins, and by doing so drilling down to the essence of what makes them Superman and Wonder Woman. With Diana in The Last Amazon, even though she was raised on an island in Hell with the sorceress Circe instead of Themyscira with her mother and the other Amazons, the qualities of kindness and compassion that makes her Wonder Woman come through even more strongly. (That, and The Last Amazon is simply a fantastic banger of a story that you should read right now.)

With Absolute Superman, I think it's a little more of a work in progress. The bones of Superman's origin are all there--Krypton still blows up and Kal-El comes to Earth to be with Jonathan and Martha Kent--but the timing of these events is different. To begin with, Kal-El stayed on Krypton until he was twelve years old; he saw the rottenness of Kryptonian society, the extreme social stratification and castes, and how the ruling class exploited everyone and everything until they mined Krypton so deep it tore itself apart. He saw how the Science League treated his parents, refusing to recognize their accomplishments and sentencing them to death when his father Jor-El discovered what was going on. He was himself censured for writing his own school essays instead of relying on the Luminarium's AI (which is a scary little detail in this day and age of enshittified artificial intelligence). He witnessed Krypton's death throes from his parents' hastily constructed ship as it launched, until a final explosion from the dying planet tore the ship apart and cast everyone into space. A fragment from the ship enclosed Kal-El, keeping him alive, but he never saw his parents again.

He eventually reaches Earth, after a year and a half of travel alone in deep space, which sets him up for some major PTSD down the line. But Earth is different as well--it's ruled over by the global Lazarus Corporation, which exploits people pretty much as Krypton's ruling class used to do (and as we find out, uses extraterrestrial technology, with Superman's classic villain Brainiac behind the scenes running it). Kal-El does crash-land on the Kents' farm, but he's there for only about a month before Lazarus shows up and he has to flee. He spends the next five years hiding in the shadows, bouncing from place to place, fighting the Lazarus Corporation and helping people as best he can.

So as the story starts, Superman is a traumatized eighteen-year-old kid, coming into his powers but not at all in control of them, and having flashbacks to Krypton. The nobleness and goodness of the classic Superman character is still there, but it's deeply buried. He is quite capable of making major mistakes, and his rage from his lingering trauma pretty much guarantees he'll do just that. It's a fascinating take on the character.

Lois Lane and Jimmy Olson also show up, in completely different guises--Lois is a Lazarus agent tasked with hunting Superman down, and Jimmy Olson is a guerrilla fighter working for the Omega Men, the revolutionary group fighting the Lazarus Corporation. We haven't delved as deeply into their characters as yet, but Lois in particular is also a nice new take that should be interesting to follow.

For me, this isn't the best of the new universe, but it's certainly worth reading.

View all my reviews