Robert Silverberg - Son of Man (Book Review)

"Son of Man" (Amazon: US, UK)
by ROBERT SILVERBERG
Format: Paperback, 225 pages
Publisher: Pyr (June/July, 2008)
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First off, I'd like to warn all those who read this – this is not one of my ordinary reviews, and it doesn't come with a rating at the end. I did read the book – very slowly and carefully so – but despite everything, I just couldn't manage to fully understand it. I tried real hard to probe the deeper layers of meaning of all the events and happenings in "Son of Man", but they kept eluding me and finally, I had to give up. It’s why this so-called review is more about my experience with the book and plain facts than about any real analysis (if it can be called that) of "Son of Man".

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When I heard that Silverberg’s classic, "Son of Man", is going to be re-published, I was pretty excited. I’d read his Book of Skulls and enjoyed it much, so I expected something similar with Son of Man. Well, I couldn’t have been further away from the truth. I got the book in the summer and took it with me to the seaside, but when I tried to read it, I had to give up after the first few pages. I didn’t get more than a glimpse of the content, but the beginning struck me like a fist in the face. Voodoo space-travel and hermaphrodite beings who seemed to be some distant cousins of those in Le Guin’s “The Left Hand of Darkness” (I know it’s probably the other way around, regarding the fact that “Son of Man” was written in 1971, it’s just that I read “The Left Hand of Darkness” first) were a bit too much for my lazy, sun & sea & beach-oriented brain (though I had a laugh about what John called ‘a quick inspection of Clay’s genitalia’). I realised that this is probably a very good book, at least where the style of writing is concerned, but it was impossible for me to read it right then, in the middle of my vacation. Therefore, I put it down for the time being.

From that day on, I was sort of caught into a weird cycle of reading “Son of Man”, putting it down and a few days/weeks later, picking it up again. It’s been four months from that first time I took “Son of Man” in my hands to when I finally finished it, which is extraordinary enough – I usually read a lengthy novel in a day or two, if it intrigues me enough. I’ve never yet read a book for such an extended period of time – I usually either read my books fast or put them down immediately (and that does not happen very often).

The story revolves around a man named Clay, who wakes up in a strange new world. After a few moments of confusion, he figures out that he was caught in a time-flux (I’m still not sure how he got to that conclusion) and thrown onto a distant-future Earth, which is barely similar to the planet he knew. Befriended by the previously mentioned hermaphrodites, who call themselves Skimmers, he journeys around this future Earth and its five zones of unease, participates in the Five Rites of the Skimmers and gets to know the other beings that descended from the race of men.

Plot-wise, this is just as far as “Son of Man” goes: exploration of the future Earth mixed with the sensual Five Rites. There is a lot of sexuality throughout the book, as (or so I guess) it’s presented as one of the main human attributes – it’s explicit, but I didn’t find it exactly vulgar. “Son of Man” also felt strangely devoid of all emotions; despite the five zones of unease, despite the Skimmers constantly repeating they are love and despite Clay’s constant mood swings, I felt unable to feel any of these emotions myself. Except maybe confusion, at first, and resignation, but these are not the feelings a reader usually seeks in a book – or are they?

The problem with “Son of Man” is that it isn’t a bad book – it just awful hard to read. I’ve had similar problems when reading Phillip K. Dick’s novels, but “Son of Man” is even more difficult than those. It’s full of subtle meanings, philosophical musings and hallucination-like scenes, and overall the kind of book that you read because it’s a classic, not because it’s a joy to read. The style of writing is brilliant, but at the same time, a major pain for the reader. If you wish to read about a weird, sexually explicit, philosophical and voodoo-like wandering, then feel free to read “Son of Man”. If you want an easy, possibly amusing and touching (or at all emotional) read, skip it.
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Rating: N/A
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Ursula K. Le Guin - The Lathe of Heaven (Book Review)

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The Lathe of Heaven is a 1971 science fiction novel by much acclaimed Ursula K. Le Guin. The novel was nominated for both the Hugo and the Nebula award and won the Locus in 1972. It has also been adopted into two films. The novel sprawls just over 170 pages, which is considered short by modern standards set by thousand plus pages long doorstopper tomes. That keeps the writer with limited maneuver space. This is not Le Guin's most known work – that would be certain novels from the Hainish Cycle (considerably The Left Hand of Darkness and The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia) and her YA fantasy Earthsea novels. But even if it is not her most known work it is still influential and resonating.
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George Orr discovers that he has the ability to alter and/or shape reality with his dreams but is also vastly unnerved by that fact. He abuses drugs to help him suppress the vivid and reality-changing dreams. When he gets caught for it he is assigned to Obligatory Therapy. When his therapist, William Haber, discovers for himself what George is capable of, and all the possibilities of given situation, he starts developing agendas of his own.
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Basically this is a story about the contest of ideological and binary opposites – such as the following motives: free will vs. authority, risk vs. safety, freedom vs. totalitarism, introvertedness vs. extrovertedness, pessimism vs. unbelated optimism, passivity vs. activity and last but not least the who protagonists that personify these polar ideals. It is an allegory of two god-head figures: the tinkerer or the interventionist (example: Judeo-Christian concept of god) and the being who is the World, who belongs rather than observes and dictates (example: god figure of many eastern religions). The tinkerer is personified in the therapist and the being who is the World is represented by George Orr (he in fact holds the power of creation in his hands, but is ironically in power of Haber himself). So the first one uses and the second is used. The revolt of George Orr seems mild and without outward aggression, but it is only that it happens on an introverted and intuitive level. Haber sees Orr only as a husk of a man, incapable of action, of progress, of evolution. Orr is not unintelligent, only meek and docile tool to be used. This is of course only Haber's view on things. We get to know the opposite angle on Orr as well – a completely wholesome person and a pillar of strength to lean on to. From this point of view Haber seems a complete control freak with narcissistic, aggressive, pushy, self-centered, uncaring and intrusive tendencies. Although neither is good or bad. Orr is convinced that he has no moral right to change the world. On the other hand, Haber believes that Orr's reality-bending dreams are just a tool to be used, a next step in evolution and he has a genuine wish to change the world for the better. But dreams are unpredictable, driven by subconscious irrational mind defying control.
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---“I don’t have nightmares more than most people, I think,” Orr was saying, looking down at his hands. “Nothing special. I’m afraid of dreaming.”
---“Of dreaming bad dreams.”
---“Any dreams.”
---“I see. Have you any notion how that fear got started? Or what it is you’re afraid of, wish to avoid?”
---As Orr did not reply at one, bat sat looking don at his hands, square, reddish hands lying too still on his knee, Haber prompted just a little. “Is it the irrationality, the lawlessness, sometimes the immorality of dreams, is it something like that that makes you uncomfortable?”
---“Yes, in a way. But for a specific reason. You see, here…Here I…”
---Here’s the crux, the lock, thought Haber, also watching those tense hands. Poor bastard. He has wet dreams, and a guilt complex about ‘em. Boyhood enuresis, compulsive mother-
---“Here’s where you stop believing me.” (pg.14-15)
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Just to state this one out loud – yes, Ursula K. Le Guin is a terrific and a very intelligent writer. She took some 170 pages and turned them into a psychological (psychoanalysis, dream studies etc.), sociological (issues of poverty, racism, population control, violence, tinkering with social structure etc.), philosophical (Nietzsche's will-to-power, ethical issues, question of freedom etc.) study with a pinch of pure fiction thrown in as well. I admit I find her writing style endearing and comfortable but in some way The Lathe of Heaven just fails to connect with me in the way it should. The book is short but I still found a lot of info-dumping and (for me) uninteresting speculations about and experimentations with the society's structure. Since I'm working on my degree in social studies I found much of that tinkering with society crude or just plainly under explored; I'm aware that the emphasis of the book lies elsewhere, but I still found this element of the story too disconcerting to give the book a higher grade. The alternative realities are so numerous that I never got a (firm) grasp on the setting of the novel. I'm mentioning this to justify my final grade and because I know some of you will not be bothered by this fact. On the other hand, her criticism of western societies and its constant will-to-progress is subtle and ingenious enough – played on individual level between two main protagonists.
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---You have to help another person. But it’s not right to play God with masses of people. To be God you have to know what you’re doing. And to do any good at all, just believing you’re right and your motives are good isn’t enough. You have to…be in touch. He isn’t in touch. No one else, no thing even, has an existence of its own for him; he sees the world only as a means to his end. (pg.150)
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All in all, this one was a mixed bag of great to not so great for me (but never really bad though). It's just that it felt a bit rusty in some places and in my opinion does is not on the level with The Left Hand of Darkness, which is her other work that I've read. So if you'd like to start with Le Guin I'd recommend to start there. Nevertheless, I'm glad that I've read The Lathe of Heaven because it has some brilliant moments – it's a charming classic in its own special way.
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---(3 out of five)
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~ Thrinidir ~