"Burning Chrome" by William Gibson

            In what I'm sure will become an infamous review of mine, my review of Neuromancer was scathing of not only the novel, but of William Gibson as well. I figured his style was great, but I couldn't understand what was going on, as if the narrator he utilized in his story was a drunk telling some randomly garbled story. I figured, after seeing I had a couple of short stories of his, “You know what, his style might better suit him for the short form.”

            Boy was I dead on with that prediction.

            As much as I trashed Gibson before, I must admit, the short story seems to truly be his forte. It is in this form that he can sometimes confuse readers and introduce odd concepts and not be entirely straightforward and still manage to be coherent and perfectly enthralling. I will admit one flaw that Neuromancer had as well, which was sheer predictability, but I'd otherwise recommend “Burning Chrome”, set in the same universe, far more. Every single problem I had with Neuromancer was not a problem at all here.

            For starters, similar terms are used here within this story, and one, ice, is even described to some degree, enough for most to understand, and much like Neuromancer, it's creative in its descriptions of surroundings (this case being better, obviously). Beyond that, there is no real break up in the scenes that would entail missing anything important. That was the biggest problem Neuromancer had, and it seems to be thanks in part to a greater-utilized narrator, one who seems sobered, intelligent, and ultimately human. In fact, all of the characters were people I could care about, even the people who are kind of jerks. The narrator actually cares about and describes in great fashion the other characters and how he feels about them. That is exactly the kind of person I want to read about, and I didn't get that in Neuromancer.

            Which brings me to my most pressing question: What happened to you, Gibson? What changed in you from the time you wrote this excellent short story to writing Neuromancer? It was, after all, a short couple of years. Were you stressed by time constraints? Was the novel truly unfinished? Seems like it was, despite the excellent writing otherwise. Or did you really think the story was great as it was? If not, did the editor think otherwise? Somehow, that seems to be the case with the general audience, who seem to be overlooking this wonderful gem for that. That, to me, is a shame.

            For everyone else who dislikes Neuromancer like I do (as if I haven't said it enough), I still strongly recommend “Burning Chrome” to you. I seriously doubt you'll be disappointed with this one.

            Additional Super Fun Fact: Chromium is a chemical element which has a high rate of corrosion resistance and is quite hard. Keep this in mind while reading the story.

"How Beautiful With Banners" by James Blish

            When it comes to James Blish, he seems to be an excellent writer, if sometimes difficult to understand at times. I had only read “Surface Tension” before reading this story, and I loved it, and saw why it was voted by the Science Fiction Writers of America as one of the greatest short stories written before the founding of the Nebula awards. Because I, too, loved “Surface Tension”, I wanted to read more of his stories, and managed to find this little short piece.

            I honestly wasn't enthralled with this story as much as “Surface Tension”, which was disappointing. This story makes the same mistake that Neuromancer makes: style over substance. Makes me wonder if “Surface Tension” was just a fluke.

            However, I will not completely deride this story. Frankly, it's quite short. Had it been novel-length, and been like it was the whole way through, I wouldn't have finished it. Being less than twenty pages makes the story more bearable. Because of this, it can be considered a practice piece. Seems to me, because of the concentration on style, James Blish was showing off his skills, and I will admit, despite the story not really existing much here, his skill in creative writing and symbolism is truly admirable, if at times ridiculous as well.

            It is an interesting little puzzle to configure to be sure, but Blish I guess couldn't help but put in a bit of strangeness, particularly involving the cloak described within. Hello surrealism, thy name is science fiction. If, however, all of the strangeness is pieced together, you essentially get a moving characterization in the form of an emotionally torn woman trapped in her own personal bubble.

            If I said much more, I would be revealing too much for those who want to dig their grubby little fingers into the confection and seek to unravel the mystery (likely with their own interpretation) for themselves. For this story, I cannot do that. You will simply have to read it, and for a good example of purely symbolic literature, I recommend you do, especially if you'd like to practice your analytical skills. If you expect anything other than that, you will likely hate this story, so if you want to read something purely for entertainment value, stay away from this one. If you want to seek out what is pretty much mindless science fiction, look to some of the pulps or A. E. van Vogt or something like that.

"Piecework" by David Brin

            I have, unfortunately, not read much of David Brin's work. I have, however, read the first chapter of The Postman, and I was absolutely enthralled by the story. I would love to purchase the book and read it further, and maybe more of Brin's work, because, though I haven't read much yet, I can already tell he's a writer well worth delving into. After reading the first chapter of The Postman, though, I wanted to see if I happened to have any sort of short fiction of his (I knew I didn't have any novels). I happened to find one story, “Piecework”.

            I will admit, I have only finished it once, and it wasn't terribly long ago. I still don't understand certain intricacies, like why exactly the profession the title refers to, that of using women as surrogates for various products, is called piecework in the first place. I don't know if it's a simple usage, such as simply implying women are producing pieces of various technology and such, or a symbolic usage, such as the double entendre potentially implied with the title (piecework/peacework), but something like this doesn't seem to be entirely necessary for understanding the whole story and its implications.

            The implications, on the other hand, I do understand. For the most part, anyway. The society featured within the story seems to be reliant on pure emotional and pleasurable instinct, taking the philosophy of hedonism to its peak, even to the point where some will attempt to stop those who seek to break the mold. Because of this, society is saturated by basic primal instincts, such as sex and hunger, and various pleasurable influences, including drugs and television. In fact, the television shows described in particular are soap operas, which are shows which tend to represent what society in general goes through, and they usually rely on the primal urges of humankind to increase the drama represented. This further shows how addicted to constant pleasure the people are, so much so that they seem to need it on a persistent basis, always seeming to need some kind of fix lest they break down.

            It's even how they live, hence is how the profession the title represents grants people the ability to continue to survive. At least, that's the case most of the time. Products seem to be transferred through impregnation, but another option that is available is through simple implantation of eggs without intercourse (at least, that's how I'm understanding it, I could be wrong; if so, I'll take another look at a later time). The main character, Ia, goes the latter route within the story, which helps characterize her. She is the intellectual type on the path to success, not reliant on her emotions to get by in life, and therefore seems to be an overall more mature character than her counterparts. This is further confirmed by the quite positive ending of the story, which is perfectly fitting for this story, and I don't think could've ended any other way, because the ending shows exactly why the society featured in the story shuns climbing the ladder.

            Brilliantly done, Mr. Brin. If I could stand up and applaud in front of you, I would. Interesting and exquisitely written, the story itself was a pleasure to read. I eagerly look forward to reading more works of yours.

            Additional super fun fact: This story totally has no religious symbolism in it. There is no way Ia has anything to do with the Virgin Mary and the whole criticism of hedonism has no ties to any religious ideology whatsoever, particularly Christianity.

Foundation by Isaac Asimov

            Foundation, along with “Nightfall” and I, Robot, is considered to be one of Isaac Asimov's best works. This book, along with its two proceeding novels, are actually a collection of short stories, novelettes, and novellas, which are all different in plot, but take place in the same fictional setting. Although Foundation gained no awards at the time of initial publishing, the series later won an honorary Hugo award for “Best All-Time Series”. Considering the heaps of praise, and considering I hadn't read much Asimov yet, I decided, of course, that I should gleefully jump right in. I actually happened to finish it today, so these are initial impressions.

            This novel, much like many others, has flaws. The first problem it has is characterization. It's not completely devoid of such a concept, but a lot of the characters are the same, intellectual, questioning, logical types, even the barbaric, brutish people. I was particularly disappointed with Asimov's handling of Gaal Dornick, who seemed like quite an interesting character I wanted to learn more about, but unfortunately didn't. On the other hand, I did love how Asimov utilized the character of Lord Dorwin. Instead of making him another analytical type, he made him out to be a silly, nonchalant symbol of the declining state of galactic society, and he was a pure joy to read. It's a shame he was only featured for a short period.

            As much as I did like the intellectual state of most of the characters, Asimov decided to make about ninety-some percent of the book dialogue, with explanations about whatever situation was at hand and how it could and would be fixed. Even when he didn't feature any of the characters spewing dialogue, he did give at least some necessary detail, but having a little more would've been nice. The first part, “The Psychohistorians,” did fine on that end, but the rest of the book was aching for more. However, I will admit that sometimes the book would've suffered without that kind of explanation-hammering, even if plenty of them ultimately did amount to back and forth Q & A style sessions.

            And as a side note, two other minor problems I had were the adverb use (which wasn't at a Stephanie Meyer level of legendary terribleness, but still was a tad annoying) and the instance of sexism later on in the book involving the woman's role in the kitchen. This is only somewhat forgivable because this was written back in the nineteen fifties when that was common, but like anywhere else, it sticks out like a sore thumb and awkwardly pulls me out of the story.

            But please, don't think I hate Foundation. In fact, I love it. I can't help but praise this novel despite its flaws. It's a heaping bundle of thought-provoking, well-planned goodness wrapped in a tight little ball. I thoroughly enjoyed reading just about every single page of this book. It's the kind of story I don't see much of anymore; the type of story that doesn't rely on violence to solve its problems. With his wonderfully wrought ingenuity, Isaac Asimov manages to weave a clever pacifistic web around each and every situation he handles, all while keeping in mind the quote featured within by Salvor Hardin, “Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” The essential ideas represented are more important in this case than the flaws listed above, hence is why I ultimately praise Foundation.

            That way of thinking is what I yearn to see among the entire action-oriented, Hollywood blockbuster style hugger bugger. Sad to see intellectual and more peaceful wonders such as this often chucked to the wayside for basic, less grand, non-thought-provoking sequences. Keeping Salvor Hardin's quote in mind about incompetence, that could very well put into perspective the rut of thinking (or lack thereof) our society is currently in. Further putting into perspective Salvor Hardin's quote and how it relates to our society, this novel also happens to reflect similarities to the fall of Rome and the proceeding Middle Ages, which I'm sure was intentional.

            This novel could very well have been a well-timed message by Asimov, warning people about the dangers of the path we already seem to be leading toward, which wouldn't be surprising considering he's a secular scientist. For that ever so important message, I place Foundation among my highest of recommendations, and I will look forward to not only reading more Isaac Asimov, but possibly more from this series as well.

Snow Crash by Neil Stephenson

            Much like Neuromancer, Snow Crash has been praised as one of the greatest works of the cyberpunk genre. Much like Neuromancer, it has made Time's list of the one hundred greatest novels released since 1922. Then again, Neuromancer wasn't very good, but I figured I'd give this a shot anyway. Thankfully, Snow Crash turned out to be much better than Neuromancer.

            That doesn't mean Snow Crash doesn't have flaws.

            For instance, the characterizations. Hiro Protagonist is seen in this novel as excelling in pretty much everything he does, possibly except for the pizza delivery scene early on. I wouldn't doubt if that's the whole point of his character, considering his name and all, is supposed to be a parody-style character who can overcome anything, but I still felt that was tiring to read about and made the novel predictable. Seems to me, all characters considered, even if they were fleshed out some, they were overshadowed by the stylings and rigamarole about the strange society Stephenson erected. At least Hiro didn't go the Ender Wiggins route, but there was still an overly machismo characteristic going on that made the novel a little less fun to read, maybe unless you turn off your brain.

            Unfortunately, considering a big chunk of the novel involved learning about, among other things, Sumerian mythology, turning my brain off wasn't much of an option. I will admit that much: the novel isn't overly action packed. It has a good overall mix of action and intelligence throughout, but I can't help but feel that the interjections between the two were kind of odd at times. Sometimes I'd just want to keep thinking and learn more and an action scene would jump right in and screw with my perception, which would make me want to stop for a short while or skip a bit (if I knew I could) and then come back.

            And then there's the other side of the coin to the whole criticism I had with Neuromancer: the fact that a lot of what you need to know, at least in a sort of literary study, is explained. I'm sure some of you don't consider it a big deal, but I sometimes like to see for myself how something in real life or mythology or what have you can relate to the story at hand, at least when applicable. As much as I think detail is needed for proper understanding, I don't necessarily care to have everything spoon-fed to me. Maybe Stephenson did this because he had a particular audience in mind that wasn’t like me, the kind of audience that needs everything explained outright. Anyway, comparing the two major works of cyberpunk, they both seem to be in extremes when it comes to clarity; Neuromancer has far too little, Snow Crash has far too much. I'd still rather have the latter, though, because that at least saves me a time and energy.

            There's a part in the book in particular I didn't like, but that would be something I'd rather not spoil. It's not the ending, but I still would rather not state it here. If you absolutely must know for some odd reason, ask me through email, because I will not relay what it is in the comments section, either. Once I explain it to you, if I happen to, you might understand why (and those who have read the book already may know what I'm thinking of).

            Other than that, it's a pretty good read. Doesn't even take terribly long to finish despite being over four hundred (fairly close to five hundred) pages. It's quite funny (especially the discussion about Sumerian myth), and the society Neil Stephenson molded is quite interesting to read about, uniquely dystopian in its implications with black humor weaved into descriptions about the surroundings. It also mixes a bit of a fantastical element into the story (Sumerian myth), but it works out alright and is, in some spots, kind of clever, so no qualms about that here. It's not the best book out there, not even as good as plenty of people say it is, but it is worth checking out, especially if you want a good cyberpunk novel, so I do recommend it. At the same time, don’t feel real bad about missing out on it.

            Additional super fun fact: Snow Crash was initially supposed to be a graphic novel with computer generated images. Would've been cool to see its fruition, since I can imagine that was the better medium for this story, but this novel works out okay anyway.

            Another additional super fun fact: Snow Crash did not win any awards. It was nominated for the British Science Fiction Award and Arthur C. Clarke Award, but won neither. Compare that to Neuromancer, which won a plethora of them.

Neuromancer by William Gibson

            This novel is one of the cornerstones of science fiction. It won the holy trifecta (Hugo, Nebula, and Philip K. Dick awards) and is considered the first major work, and possibly the most important, of the cyberpunk genre. For those who don't know, cyberpunk is a sub-genre of science fiction which some people think simply involves hackers and cyborgs and such, but from my understanding, the generally accepted application is, “high tech, low life.” Cyberpunk does usually feature the themes named earlier, but that is because of the popularity of this novel, Neuromancer.

            For a novel so influential, how could I not pass this up? In fact, this was one of the first novels I bought in the science fiction genre, and I put off reading it for a while afterward. Once I started reading it, I thought it was neat. Not too far into the book, however, I got a little confused. I figured I might've just been missing details, but I looked back again and missed nothing. I figured that I might've had a bad print, but I checked other printings just like it and they were the same. At that point, I figured I'd just keep reading, because it might've been a one time occurrence. But no. Confusion kept happening. I kept looking back for details I might've missed. I kept wondering what was going on. I kept being confused and irritated by this novel. So I figured there were only three potential causes for this problem: the editors, the publishers, and, of course, the author himself, William Gibson.

            Keep in mind, I don't mind being left in the dark on certain things, and I sometimes even love figuring things out for myself, like I'm slipping pieces of a puzzle together. I like puzzles. What I don't like, however, is lack of necessary detail; missing pieces of the puzzle. That seems to be William Gibson's biggest problem, with this novel at least (haven't read any other works of his yet), is clarity. I don't even mean about these computer terms he's using, because I can actually understand several of them (he still could've written an appendix in, though). The real problem is with pacing. Seems to me Gibson loves to jump from one place to another without warning or reasoning. All of a sudden, we'll just be set in a place and the characters are doing something and there's no real clue as to why, and the question constantly remains, “How and why?” Seems to me he went the overly artsy route while eschewing plot details, and from what I've read in tips written by publishers, they normally don't like that, so I wonder how this got published in the first place.
            But that's not the only reason I couldn't feel emotionally attached. I honestly couldn't find myself caring a lick about hardly any of the characters, especially the protagonist, Case. Whenever we read his thoughts, he tends to go on a pseudo-intellectual analysis spree and does not indicate whatsoever that he has a single ounce of an emotion. It's hard to relate to a character and even the surroundings if I can't feel along with them.

            So I don't even see why Neuromancer is praised as much as it is. Because it's artsy and pretentious? How people can fully understand exactly what is going on, or even just enough to really like it, I've no clue. From what I understand of the overall plot (and I'm pretty sure I do at least understand that), it is interesting, but the adventure is something to be desired, and that's what holds the novel back. This was, without a shadow of a doubt, not the worst novel I've ever read (not even in the science fiction genre), but definitely the most frustrating. I almost stopped reading it, but I pressed on because I figured I was close enough to finishing it anyway, so I did. Not even a noteworthy ending, really; just what you expect to happen. Not always a bad thing, but considering the frustration in dealing with this mess of a novel, a unique or inspired or a more unexpected ending would've made the trip at least a little more worth it.

            So I'm sorry to disappoint for those interested, but don't believe the hype. Neuromancer is heavily overrated. Not recommended at all, even if you happen to like cyberpunk.

            Additional super fun fact: Neuromancer is absolutely not the first work that falls into the cyberpunk genre. Don't be misled by people who make that claim. The first would probably be The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester. Might've even been something before that, but that's the earliest I know of (released in 1954). If anything, Neuromancer simply got the ball rolling faster, particularly on certain (now worn and tired) themes.

            Another  additional super fun fact: Apologies first and foremost for forgetting where I have read this, so I cannot provide a source, but apparently William Gibson himself has stated this was one of his weakest works.

"The Weapon Shop" by A. E. van Vogt

            For quite a while, I wondered exactly why people ripped on A. E. van Vogt. Even after reading criticisms of him, particularly from noted science fiction grand master Damon Knight, who seemed to lead the charge, I was curious. For the longest time, I put off reading any of A. E. van Vogt's stories, until I read praise of him by one of my favorite authors, Philip K. Dick, who said A. E. van Vogt was one of his biggest inspirations. After reading that, I felt like I had to check him out. All I had was short stories, so I looked to what was apparently one of his best shorts (which was, along with two other short stories, turned into a novel), one with a cool concept even (title explains itself), and dug right in.

            And I figured out fairly quickly why A. E. van Vogt is often criticized.

            In my introduction post, I noted the differences between science fiction and fantasy, and that they can mix. I don't always mind if they do, but in this story (among others by Vogt), there seemed to be no rhyme or reason half of the time. Even the fantastical elements that did make any sense could've easily been fixed up to seem more realistic. For instance, the door to the weapon shop can somehow detect when someone has hostile intentions toward the shop owner and won't allow them inside. How this can be done is not explained or pondered upon in any way; it just is what it is. Instead, what Vogt could've done was simply some inner soul searching about the hypocrisy of a man who criticizes a store for potentially spreading violence through weaponry utilizing one of those weapons for that very purpose: to attack the shopkeeper, the seller of the weapons.

            Even if we're not going for the complex psychological profile route, there are still some simple little things that could've been changed. For instance, instead of simply showing a video captured by spies to the protagonist about the corrupt government, Vogt chose to have the protagonist experience some whacked out little trip, via whatever, through the palace itself without being seen. It was like the main character suddenly tripped out on acid without even realizing it and was quickly cured of his ailments after learning what he needed to know.

            Which brings me to a man who often wrote about acid trips and the like, Philip K. Dick. Despite my criticisms of Vogt, I can see why Dick was inspired by him. However, unlike Vogt, Dick is a great storyteller. Even with his flaws, whether it be character flaws (particularly female characters) or his writing style, he was still able to jot down a competent and interesting story. Even in his more fantastical elements, he had a cause laid out for everyone. So ultimately, even if you like Philip K. Dick, I cannot guarantee that you will like A. E. van Vogt. In fact, unless you like terrible fantasy stories, I doubt you will.

            As for this story itself, it's ultimately about what I figured it might be about: Second Amendment rights and authoritarianism and freedom and blah blah blah. Even if you happen to agree with that kind of thing, that doesn't mean you'll like it, but if you do agree with that stuff, I suggest Robert A. Heinlein to you, and to avoid this story and A. E. van Vogt in general.

            Additional super fun fact: A. E. van Vogt was a big time Scientologist who even opened up his own centers. That, to me, further puts his storytelling prowess into focus.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

            Ender's Game is one of the most popular novels not just of science fiction, but apparently all of literature, particularly among teens despite not necessarily being written for them. It won both the Hugo and the Nebula awards, and was nominated for the Locus award. The book is even recommended reading for military recruits in the U.S. Marine Corps, which they placed in their “Professional Reading List”.

            Noticing that it was highly praised in the science fiction field, I had to check it out, and I did while in my teens. Upon my first reading, I really liked it. Wasn't my favorite novel (despite not having read many books yet), but I thought it was well-constructed and had a bit of a neat surprise at the end. A couple of years later, after finishing my Science Fiction Literature class, I decided to read it again, as I sometimes do with books I like.

            And I quickly came to detest it.

            After slugging through a few chapters, I started noticing something deeply wrong with the protagonist, Ender Wiggin. I started thinking back to what I remembered reading before, and realized that Ender Wiggin does terrible things. He is capable of attacking or even murdering those who bother him in one way or another, and not be punished or questioned. Adding to that, he is apparently multi-talented and quite intelligent and all that jazz. He is, in this novel, shown as a human with advanced capabilities, almost like a superhuman.

            What I'm getting at is that this novel seems to be supportive of nazism. I'm not the only one who made this connection by myself, either. This novel actually does, despite its still apparent and fluctuating popularity, happen to be notorious now because of a review written by another science fiction author, Elaine Radford, who even compared Ender Wiggin directly to Adolf Hitler. Orson Scott Card responded to the criticism in the same magazine in which Radford's criticism was published, but it didn't convince me of anything to the contrary thanks to his poor debate skills. In fact, from what I've heard, the next novel in the series, Speaker for the Dead, does question Ender and the things he does. Considering that, it seems likely he actually took Radford's criticism to heart and fixed things up, despite his response to her.

            But even if we're going to accept that Ender's Game is not intentionally supportive of nazism, it's not exactly written very well. It's easily accessible, which is part of the reason for its continued popularity, but there are certain portions of the novel in which Card tells rather than shows. Instead of showing us, for instance, that some of the characters like to play on computers by simulating a bit of what they do, he just says it flat out. We don't get a frantic scene full of joy and wonder in the world of computers, we just get a description. It’s more fun to read about adventure rather than description whenever that’s possible.

            I don't doubt, however, that what he created was intentional, especially considering his Mormon beliefs (which can explain other aspects of Ender I haven't mentioned here). Orson Scott Card, frankly, is a jerk. Don't believe me? Read his introduction for Ender's Game. I'll let his words speak for himself, but even after reading the introduction, there's more to learn, so send me a message if you'd like to learn more about him. Keep in mind that, yes, sometimes an author's viewpoint in life does sneak into the stories they write. I, too, have done so before.

            And put what I mentioned about teens and military recruiters liking and suggesting this book into perspective after reading my mini-review.

            Additional super fun fact: Speaker for the Dead also won both the Hugo and Nebula awards, which makes Orson Scott Card the only author to have received both awards consecutively. Which is a damn shame, because, while I don't know of the quality of Speaker for the Dead (don't care to find out, frankly), Card is not the kind of person I'd give that honor to. Considering I don't see a lot of his fiction gathered in various collections (of which I've read and seen plenty), I doubt I'm alone in that viewpoint, which makes me wonder even more why it won major awards in the first place.

            EDIT: Check out these two links for more information...

            On the titular character: http://www4.ncsu.edu/~tenshi/Killer_000.htm

            On Orson Scott Card himself: http://www.kuro5hin.org/story/2005/5/28/22428/7034

The Puppet Masters by Robert A. Heinlein

            This novel was a first of its kind. No, not the “alien attack” story, rather the “alien adaptation” story. What I mean by that is that this was the first story (that I know of) to feature the idea of aliens taking over the minds and lives of humans in a more passive and subtle way as opposed to the direct and aggressive style as featured in The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. Yes, even before Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, there was The Puppet Masters, which featured pretty much the same themes. In fact, since the novel's release, its ideas have been ripped several times by other authors, most recently by hack writer Stephenie Meyer with her release of The Host.

            The Puppet Masters follows a secret agent named Sam, who investigates and fights the alien menace which seeks to control the human population. We see an interesting perspective, in that we see Sam as both himself and when he has succumbed to alien control; we get to see how both Sam and the alien think, since the story takes place using first person perspective. Sam, from what I can tell by how Heinlein wrote the character, is designated as a lovable jerk, or he's supposed to be lovable. I didn't entirely dislike him, but I sometimes just thought he was too much of a jerk, or at least didn't have the proper charisma set to make him out to be likable. Gives him more humanity, but considering this story was set in the first person, reading some of his thoughts and actions was a bit irksome, especially in association to his relationship with Mary.

            Speaking of which, there's Mary, who Heinlein just seemed to write out as the ultimate badass (except in that awful relationship she has with Sam). Heinlein did sometimes show his feminist side, which is definitely neat considering this novel was written in the nineteen fifties. However, he still felt the need to sexualize her a decent amount, as he usually does with his female characters, and she still exhibited some submissiveness. This novel was one of those times when sexualization was annoying. I understand inserting carnal desires, because I've done it, too. Plenty of authors do. Heinlein, however, just tends to go a little overboard sometimes and just shoves in a scene that's sexual in nurture without necessity, and he's usually not subtle about it. There's a time and place when it makes sense and when it doesn't. I'm not even talking about the fact that people eventually walked around naked in this novel, because that did make sense. I'm simply talking about Mary.

            The other problem with Mary's character comes later on in the novel, and I'd rather not spoil that. Not like what happened didn't make any sense whatsoever, but I didn't think it was entirely needed for understanding. Speaking of spoilers, the ending was a tad disappointing as well thanks to its militaristic aspect, but I won't be spoiling that here, either.

            Besides sexual expression, this novel features themes typical of Robert A. Heinlein's work: libertarianism (Heinlein is a professed libertarian), conformity, freedom, communism and the Cold War (but of course), etc. The aliens are mainly symbolic of conformist mentality, and that is what this novel points out is the fear in free people of a shift to sameness and normality. Keep in mind again that this novel was written in the nineteen fifties, a time when the level of conformist behavior was quite high. For that reason alone, I give this novel plenty of appreciation despite its flaws.

And I will admit, despite the fact that I was able to configure the puzzle faster than the characters in the story, it is a generally exciting adventure with plenty of action and attention to detail. It's not something I recommend skimming over despite its predictability.

            But in comparison to Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I'll be blunt and just say the film has none of the flaws The Puppet Masters has. No unnecessary filler, no character flaws, no somewhat ridiculous plot points (relates to that thing I won't spoil), and has a better ending. So frankly, I will admit, this is one of the few times I'd recommend a film adaptation over its source. I don't do that often, not simply out of fear of breaking a general rule held by many, but because that's how I tend to feel. Whether you like Heinlein or not, that film was just generally superior. The only thing Invasion of the Bodysnatchers lacks is the alien perspective featured in the novel, but it's otherwise worth taking Invasion of the Bodysnatchers over The Puppet Masters if you absolutely had to pick between one or the other (who knows, you might die from the deus ex machina effect or have an alien take control over your body tomorrow).

            Either way, I do recommend reading this novel, even if you end up disliking it or despise Robert A. Heinlein, because it's an interesting and noteworthy release in the field of science fiction.

Additional super fun fact: This novel has two versions: a shorter version with all of the wild sex stuff chunked out, and the original, longer version with it all intact. The latter is the one I picked up. If you want to be able to tell which is which, check the dates of publication. 1986 is the shorter version, 1990 is the longer version. You can also tell by reading from the start. The longer version starts with, "With the Soviets..."

            Another additional super fun fact: Damon Knight selected this novel as one of the best science fiction novels released in the nineteen fifties. I wouldn't go that far, but it is the best that I've read from Heinlein so far (no, I haven't read Stranger in a Strange Land yet, but I have the uncut version and plan on getting to it soon).

            EDIT: I have made a big mistake. The Puppet Masters was indeed the first story (that I know of) that featured aliens taking over the minds of the populace via attachment, but not the first alien adaptation story in general. That would be a little gem called "Who Goes There?" by John W. Campbell. I apologize for the mistake.

"We Can Remember it For You Wholesale" by Philip K. Dick

            Despite his ever growing popularity since his death, and despite digging into the depths of science fiction since about my mid-teens, I had not heard of Philip K. Dick until after my Science Fiction Literature class in college. I had heard and read his name once or twice, but had no clue that he wrote science fiction until, some day, while watching Total Recall, I noticed the credit that said, “Based on “We Can Remember it For You Wholesale” by Philip K. Dick.” After that, I not only figured out he was a science fiction author, I sought the story out and, after reading it, was so thoroughly impressed with its creativeness, suspense, philosophical themes, and element of surprise that I felt like I had to seek out more of his work. I was hooked ever since, and he has since become one of my favorite authors.

            Even after reading a large amount of his work, I can't help but find this story in particular to be among my personal favorites of his, not simply because it helped change my whole perspective, but because it's a legitimately enjoyable, original, and well told story. To bring the scope of the whole thing together, however, I would need to spoil it a bit, but not so much that you know the ending right away, or that you won't still like it and enjoy it (by the way, Total Recall doesn't spoil this story, either).

            After my first time finishing it, I couldn't help but love the surprise ending. What I didn't fully realize at the time, however, was the whole implication behind it, not just what was explained, but the metaphysical aspect that truly makes the story mind-blowing relating to the philosophical subject of the min-body problem. In essence, Rekal is obviously planting fake vacations into the minds of workaholics who need a break and simply can't get one. Sounds simple enough, until the realization hits that they're planting whole new realities into the mind. Anything at all that happens to be implanted is now real to the person who receives the implant, and questions arise as to whether it happens to be real or not. In the perspective of Douglas Quail, it is real, and what we're seeing in this story is Douglas Quail's reality. How are we to say it's not real for sure, or rather, how can you convince someone who knows it's real to them that it isn't? This can obviously lead to psychological breakdown, and shows the operation, while certainly interesting, isn't worth it.

            Simply as a story, it already works, but now try reading it with this in mind if you haven't done so before. Watch and be amazed.