Book Reviews: Re-Created Extinct Hominids

 The Ice Ghost, by Kathleen O'Neal Gear (DAW)

The Ice Orphan, by Kathleen O'Neal Gear (DAW)

I previously reviewed the first of the “Rewilding Reports” novels (The Ice Lion) and I liked it (The Ice Lion, by Kathleen O'Neal Gear, DAW). The set-up is appealing: In the far future, an attempt to halt the Earth’s runaway warming resulted in a new, apocalyptic Ice Age with glaciers three miles high and a poisonous slime, “zyme” covering the oceans. As the planet descended into this frigid nightmare, the last scientists recreated species that had survived earlier Ice Ages: dire wolves, helmeted musk oxen, cave lions, and extinct, archaic human species like the Denisovans, Neanderthals, and Homo erectus. Remnants of the previous civilization persist in myths (about the godlike Jemen = G-men), an enigmatic scientist with an artificially extended lifespan, and a quantum computer spiraling into loss of function.

Some of the things I liked best about the first volume are here in the subsequent books. Foremost is the humanity, culture, and sensitivity, and poetic imagery of the pre-human characters. We moderns tend to regard our ancestors as dim-witted and lacking in social graces, although recent discoveries reveal such markers of cooperative culture as care for the injured and burial of the dead long before H. sapiens came along. Gear’s characters, although having much smaller brains, are nonetheless resourceful, compassionate, and thoughtful. The Dog Soldiers (H. erectus) may have had small, sloping skulls, but their understanding of ethical issues, not to mention their literacy and reverence for books, marks them as anything but “primitive.” In fact, the most advanced of the three species, the Rust People Neanderthals, are the most violent.

The Ice Ghost and The Ice Orphan continue the adventures of Sealion People (Denisovan) Lynx and Quiller, and members of Quiller’s family, as they struggle against an increasingly hostile terrain and new enemies. Legends mix uneasily with prophecies and dreams, as none of the pre-human species draws precise differences between poorly understood history, inspiration, and the visions born of mental illness or hallucinogens. The disintegrating quantum computer, called “Quancee,” is undoubtedly real, as is the reanimated Jemen general bent on destroying the computer’s autonomy and changing it into a weapon, and the brutal Rust People (Neandertal) shaman whose visions drive him to invade the Jemen stronghold and reawaken the ancient ruler. Who, of course, has an agenda of her own.

These next two volumes have many of the strengths of the first, including smooth prose, sympathetic characters, innovative world-building, and wonderful physical descriptions. The characters are portrayed through their experiences so that only occasionally are their physical appearances important. What matters is the quality of their characters, their courage, compassion, leadership, and honesty.

Each of the three books centers on a different but related quest, and therein lies not only the charm of the series and the independence of each installment, but a flaw in the latter two. The first volume of a series has a lot of work to do, establishing not only viewpoint characters, their goals and conflicts, but the world itself. In this case, the world’s history is critical to the story. To her credit, Gear does not bash us over the head with pages of exposition and backstory. History is gleaned from hints here and there, and the understanding of the characters. In this, Gear does a great job, even when historical facts have become distorted or even erased with time and the demands of survival in an increasingly perilous
environment.

The problem I experienced was that, compared with the first volume (The Ice Lion), what comes next felt lightweight. They seemed more like novellas in the scope of the plot, stories fleshed out with too many repetitive descriptions and inconsequential or trivial events.

My second problem arose from the conflation of imaginary and real events. In books of this type, there’s an expectation that mysterious elements will be revealed (as opposed to fantasy, where magic need not have any relationship to the laws of physics), that the reader will be able to put together the pieces and figure out what the age-warped technology, historical events, and so forth really are. And how much were real technology, events, and so forth, versus how much the imaginative, often superstitious interpretation. Gear’s characters treat superstition as just as real as tangible physical articles, but we the readers lack the clues to distinguish them. Perhaps those clues will be revealed in a future volume. Alas, I for one found two novels too long to be befuddled. This was made worse by hand-waving technology, such as near-immortality antiaging tech, a way for the genetically modified prehumans to receive telepathic communications from a computer, and the dream quest of Quiller’s adolescent son, which left me wondering if he was spiritually “transformed” or actually dead.

I continue to recommend the first volume of this series for all the reasons cited above. As for the rest, other readers may find the same delight in them. The series looks to be continuing. As they say, “YMMV.”

Book Reviews: Two Ecological-Disaster Futures

Today the Earth is warming. By how much and where the mean final temperature will fall, we don't yet know. Much depends on how we use the decreasing window of action. This, of course, is fodder for science fiction writer. Suppose we fail to act, or fail to act in a timely fashion? Once the floods and wildfires, the population migration and species extinction have run their course, will oceans cover the globe? Might humanity find refuge on floating piles of garbage from centuries of discards? 

The Past Is Red, by Catherynne M. Valente (Tordotcom)

In this ecodisaster future, warming temperatures and melted ice have resulted in a global ocean, devoid of solid land. Humans have survived on floating islands of garbage, arranged during The Great Sorting into various types. The island called Garbagetown has a district of electronic parts, Electric City one of expired prescription drugs, and so forth. The unwanted scraps of civilization provide a life that is at once filled with hope and despair. Their patron saint is St. Oscar the Grouch.

With a lot of jumping around in time, we follow Tetley Abednego from an earnest teenager to an adult universally reviled among the inhabitants of Garbagetown, although we don’t learn what her crime is until very much later. Any person is allowed to insult or physically assault her, short of killing her, on a whim, and all she is allowed to say is, “Thank you for my correction.” Her romance with Goodnight Moon leads to the revelation of a desperate scheme that will either bring the inhabitants of Garbagetown to dry land or destroy their future forever. Added to that, a strange device discovered in the mounds of discards comes to life with equally unexpected results.

Valente’s imagination never fails to bring to life worlds and peoples that are both fantastical and touchingly familiar. Despite the warning of a world in which melted ice has swelled the endless oceans, her characters embody hope and the human capacity to find joy and love even in the most depressing times. On the other hand, I had difficulty with the casual cruelty of Garbagetown inhabitants toward Tetley, especially before I had the context to understand the impact of what she had done. The jumping around in time confused me in places. But these objections pale beside the entirety of the story: endlessly inventive, often humorous, occasionally tragic, always hopeful.

 

Humans being humans, we will likely try to reverse the disaster of our own creation. Already there is talk of seeding the atmosphere to increase the sun's reflectivity, satellite-driven sunshields, plastic-eating bacteria, and the like. We who have grown up on speculative fiction ask, "What could possibly go wrong?" What, indeed--another ice age?

The Ice Lion, by Kathleen O'Neal Gear (DAW)

What a topical book! In the far future, the grand attempt to halt the Earth’s runaway warming has met with equal disaster. The result was a new and apocalyptic Ice Age with glaciers three miles high and a poisonous slime, “zyme” covering the oceans. As the planet descended into this frigid nightmare, the last scientists recreated species that had survived earlier Ice Ages: dire wolves, helmeted musk oxen, cave lions, and extinct, archaic human species like the Denisovans (distant relatives of Neanderthals) and Homo erectus. As the planet grows even colder, tribes of these hominids vie for territory and food.

Against this background, two teenaged friends, hunter Quiller and visionary Lynx navigate an increasingly hostile terrain. The cold seasons are growing ever longer and the “Rust People” more dangerous. When Lynx goes off on his marriage honeymoon and the camp is attacked by lions, he freezes. As a result, his new bride is killed and he is sentenced to exile and a spiritual journey to confront the mythic giant ice lion. Instead, he encounters an aged shaman who just might be the last of the true humans. Quiller, who has secretly been in love with Lynx, must choose between following him to defend him against the dangers of the wilderness and joining the fight to preserve her tribe.

This book, the first of “The Rewilding Reports” has many strengths. Prose that melts away, leaving the reader immersed in the story; a wealth of sensory detail that bring the world to vivid life; compelling characters and relationships; skillful clues and escalating revelations. The end marks a partial resting place where the drama of this first adventure is resolved but the characters still face ongoing danger and mysteries yet unsolved. Despite the bleakness of this future, the all-too-human denizens move forward with hope, joy in one another, and awesome competence.

A final word: There is apparently a new genre or subgenre of literature called "cli-fi." These two certainly fit, although I find the term unfortunately suggestive of something else.

Yet Another Evacuation, The Report

Half a block from us

I live in the mountains in a redwood forest in Central Coast California. I love this place and the deep serenity it has brought me. But there’s a down side to every locale, and wildfires are part of the ecology of this region. Much of the plant life, including redwoods, has evolved to survive and even thrive with periodic conflagrations. Humans, on the other hand, aren’t too fond of having their homes burned down, so they put out little fires, allow underbrush to build up, and are loathe to control flammable invasive species (like broom). Increasingly long, hot, dry summers that are the result of climate change turns the region, like many in the West, into a tinderbox. Last summer’s freak lightning storm ignited thousands of small fires that merged into huge ones. I’ve written earlier about my experience being evacuated and watching, day by day, as fires engulfed this area but the heroic efforts of fire fighters spared my own street.

Almost as soon as the mandatory evacuation orders were lifted, local authorities began an campaign of education and preparation for the next phase of this rolling disaster: debris flows. Debris flows are a type of mudslides.

Debris flows … are fast-moving downslope flows of mud that may include rocks, vegetation, and other debris. These flows begin during intense rainfall as shallow landslides on steep slopes. The rapid movement and sudden arrival of debris flows pose a hazard to life and property during and immediately following the triggering rainfall.¹

In other words, debris flows are rivers of cement 15 or more feet high and moving at up to 40 mph. If you can see it, it’s too late. There’s no way to prepare except to get out of the way. Debris flows caused massive property damage and over 20 fatalities in 2018 in Montecito, Southern California. Our local agencies were understandably concerned.

We all studied the maps of debris flow risk and watched the weather forecast. November and December passed with only occasional gentle showers, well belong the threshold for triggering a debris flow. Some of us began to relax, hoping for a dry “La Niña” year. Old timers warned that often the real rains don’t set in until January. They were right.