Tuesday, 3 September 2024 05:56 pm
Book Review: Gateway
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deckardcanineThis was my first taste of Frederick Pohl in nearly five years. It was also more promising than the previous, partly because it kicked off a longer series. The two were published in consecutive years, so it's not like he had time for dramatic change.
In an unspecified future, humans have found a hollowed-out asteroid, Gateway, containing long-abandoned artifacts from an uncontacted alien race, the Heechees (how we know what to call them is beyond me) -- mostly spaceships. The ships travel farther and faster than Earth's, but the largest barely accommodate five adult human occupants, and most of the controls remain unknown. People are encouraged to fly them out and return with new discoveries, for which the Gateway Corporation will pay handsomely.
Of course, the pay isn't just for the value of information, and there's a reason the explorers don't get the elite selection and rigorous training of a modern astronaut. Most are never heard from again, and many return DOA. It may take several voyages to learn anything. And the corporation strictly forbids messing with the course settings left by the Heechees, because no one has ever come back from that.
You may ask why an endeavor with only a slightly higher survival rate than the Scholomance gets so many takers. Well, apart from the thrill of the gamble, there's probably more poverty than today, given that the total human population is 25 billion. Only so many live on celestial bodies other than Earth.
The first-person narrator is Robinette "Bob" Broadhead, an initially poor man who had to win a type of lottery to reach Gateway in the first place. Nonetheless, he has difficulty mustering the courage to take a trip in a Heechee ship, whether solo or in a group. For most of the story, he hangs around the asteroid, doing menial odd jobs or relying on the generosity of friends to afford room and board. Of course, those friends could easily die or decide to leave forever, but he considers his scenario an improvement from before.
Every odd-numbered chapter is narrated in the present tense, when Bob has finally struck it rich and lives on Earth again, but he's not happy. In fact, those chapters all focus on his sessions with a robotic psychiatrist, Sigfrid. It takes Bob a long time to figure out and say what troubles him, and the answers come to us gradually in part through the even-numbered looks at his past.
I have to wonder about Pohl's experience with shrinks, because this one would try my patience even more than Bob's. Sigfrid's sangfroid and astuteness may be assets, but he insists on focusing where Bob doesn't want to, he disbelieves claims to forget details of dreams, and he doesn't respect the desire to be called by a consistent nickname or not treated as a child. Furthermore, Bob receives a code phrase that forces Sigfrid to divulge confidential information on other patients. That breach alone makes a good case for never computerizing the profession. Why does Bob settle for a free service when he can easily buy better?
With all the exact monetary prizes listed, I wondered how much inflation this future sees. More than halfway through, I got some good hints: A $5 coffee seems exorbitant until you factor in free refills. That's not far off from today, so it's one way the '77 book feels a little dated.
In another way, it's kind of impressive for its day. I'd come to expect the swearing and sex talk, but not so much the LGBT element. Several characters are openly gay, and Bob, despite bedding nearly every woman he meets and taking a special interest in at least one of them, finds himself longing for a man. (He really does have a host of emotional and behavioral issues, even if they're not obvious much of the time.)
I don't feel like saying much about other characters, partly, I suppose, because I didn't want to get too attached to them. Only a few more feel fairly fleshed out to me, and half of what we learn of them is rather annoying. Bob's main crush, for instance, believes fervently in astrology, except she has another name for it to convey that it's not a pseudoscience.
In my first-edition copy, the story is frequently interrupted by a full page of some document on Gateway, such as a personal ad, an interview, or a private letter. Most of these exist to add local color, but a few become relevant to Bob in particular. They remind me of the chapter intro paragraphs from Otherland, albeit less comical.
I doubt I'll read any more of the series, but Gateway does indeed give me a better impression of why Pohl became renowned. It keeps a tight focus with decent credibility, including on matters of hard science. Good thing I already took a class in relativity theory.
Now I'm knocking off a short book so I can pick up a new one around the beginning of my vacation. My current selection: The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi.
In an unspecified future, humans have found a hollowed-out asteroid, Gateway, containing long-abandoned artifacts from an uncontacted alien race, the Heechees (how we know what to call them is beyond me) -- mostly spaceships. The ships travel farther and faster than Earth's, but the largest barely accommodate five adult human occupants, and most of the controls remain unknown. People are encouraged to fly them out and return with new discoveries, for which the Gateway Corporation will pay handsomely.
Of course, the pay isn't just for the value of information, and there's a reason the explorers don't get the elite selection and rigorous training of a modern astronaut. Most are never heard from again, and many return DOA. It may take several voyages to learn anything. And the corporation strictly forbids messing with the course settings left by the Heechees, because no one has ever come back from that.
You may ask why an endeavor with only a slightly higher survival rate than the Scholomance gets so many takers. Well, apart from the thrill of the gamble, there's probably more poverty than today, given that the total human population is 25 billion. Only so many live on celestial bodies other than Earth.
The first-person narrator is Robinette "Bob" Broadhead, an initially poor man who had to win a type of lottery to reach Gateway in the first place. Nonetheless, he has difficulty mustering the courage to take a trip in a Heechee ship, whether solo or in a group. For most of the story, he hangs around the asteroid, doing menial odd jobs or relying on the generosity of friends to afford room and board. Of course, those friends could easily die or decide to leave forever, but he considers his scenario an improvement from before.
Every odd-numbered chapter is narrated in the present tense, when Bob has finally struck it rich and lives on Earth again, but he's not happy. In fact, those chapters all focus on his sessions with a robotic psychiatrist, Sigfrid. It takes Bob a long time to figure out and say what troubles him, and the answers come to us gradually in part through the even-numbered looks at his past.
I have to wonder about Pohl's experience with shrinks, because this one would try my patience even more than Bob's. Sigfrid's sangfroid and astuteness may be assets, but he insists on focusing where Bob doesn't want to, he disbelieves claims to forget details of dreams, and he doesn't respect the desire to be called by a consistent nickname or not treated as a child. Furthermore, Bob receives a code phrase that forces Sigfrid to divulge confidential information on other patients. That breach alone makes a good case for never computerizing the profession. Why does Bob settle for a free service when he can easily buy better?
With all the exact monetary prizes listed, I wondered how much inflation this future sees. More than halfway through, I got some good hints: A $5 coffee seems exorbitant until you factor in free refills. That's not far off from today, so it's one way the '77 book feels a little dated.
In another way, it's kind of impressive for its day. I'd come to expect the swearing and sex talk, but not so much the LGBT element. Several characters are openly gay, and Bob, despite bedding nearly every woman he meets and taking a special interest in at least one of them, finds himself longing for a man. (He really does have a host of emotional and behavioral issues, even if they're not obvious much of the time.)
I don't feel like saying much about other characters, partly, I suppose, because I didn't want to get too attached to them. Only a few more feel fairly fleshed out to me, and half of what we learn of them is rather annoying. Bob's main crush, for instance, believes fervently in astrology, except she has another name for it to convey that it's not a pseudoscience.
In my first-edition copy, the story is frequently interrupted by a full page of some document on Gateway, such as a personal ad, an interview, or a private letter. Most of these exist to add local color, but a few become relevant to Bob in particular. They remind me of the chapter intro paragraphs from Otherland, albeit less comical.
I doubt I'll read any more of the series, but Gateway does indeed give me a better impression of why Pohl became renowned. It keeps a tight focus with decent credibility, including on matters of hard science. Good thing I already took a class in relativity theory.
Now I'm knocking off a short book so I can pick up a new one around the beginning of my vacation. My current selection: The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi.