SCIENCE fiction has a poor track record at foretelling the future鈥攋ust
as well in the light of most of this year鈥檚 short list for the Arthur C. Clarke
Award for the best SF novel published in Britain. These warn of near-futures we
should desperately hope never happen鈥攙isions and echoes not of humanity鈥檚
hopes and dreams, but rather of fears and nightmares looming over the end of
this millennium.
The one thing you can be sure of with the Clarke award is that it rarely goes
to the safe choice. The judges, who include authors, critics, fans and the odd
scientist, tend to be a bloody-minded bunch.
The politically safe choice this year is Stephen Baxter鈥檚 Titan
(HarperCollins, 拢16.99, ISBN 0002254247), a near-future account of a
one-way NASA voyage to Saturn鈥檚 moon. Baxter is constantly praised for assuming
the mantle of Clarke: the bright new hope of British hard SF. His exposition of
technological detail is, as always, superb, but the story, like Titan, is cold.
This is the fourth time that Baxter has been short-listed in the 12 years of the
Clarke award鈥攊s he fated to be a bridesmaid forever?
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Jeff Noon was the surprise, but very popular, winner five years ago with his
first novel Vurt. His latest, Nymphomation (Doubleday,
拢15.99, ISBN 0385408129), is also set in his dystopian parallel
Manchester. Like all of Noon鈥檚 novels, Nymphomation is complex, weird
and crazily written. Suffice to say that the National Lottery pales into
insignificance next to domino day鈥檚 weekly effect on Manchester. And
Nymphomation? Imagine information with a rampant sex drive . . .
James Lovegrove鈥檚 Days is a satire about 鈥渢he world鈥檚 first and
foremost gigastore鈥�, 2.5 kilometres square. We follow shoppers, staff and the
store鈥檚 owners through the events of the day in which the ugliness of unbridled
merchandising reigns supreme. Although beautifully written, often funny, and at
times poignant, Days (Phoenix, 拢6.99, ISBN 0753802287) is only a
short-list filler. In the end, it鈥檚 simply a day in the life of a big
supermarket.
Elizabeth Hand鈥檚 The Glimmering (HarperCollins, 拢5.99, ISBN
0006480276) is a dark, dystopian novel set in a parallel now, the last gasp of
the 20th century. It鈥檚 a book about AIDS and drug-taking, and the desperate gap
between the haves and the have-nots. At times brilliantly written, it evokes the
hopes and fears of a world falling apart.
Sheri S. Tepper has also appeared on the short list once before. In the
contemporary tale of The Family Tree (Voyager, 拢9.99, ISBN
0002246686), scientists working to give animals human intelligence and speech
are murdered. In the parallel fantasy-style future story, a group of adventurers
is on a quest for the answer to an enigma. The two story streams converge
through a stroke of authorial daring that only just works. Not Tepper鈥檚 best,
this is still better than many SF writers manage at their very best.
So far, it should be a straight fight between regular contestant Baxter and
the past winner Noon. But there鈥檚 one more to come, an astounding first novel.
Mary Doria Russell鈥檚 The Sparrow (Black Swan, 拢6.99, ISBN
0552997773) is the story of a Jesuit expedition to a newly discovered alien race
and how it goes dreadfully wrong. Eight set out to Alpha Centauri; decades later
one returns, alone and horribly mutilated. Worse, this well-loved,
much-respected and highly intelligent priest is branded a child-murderer. In
alternating strands, The Sparrow recounts the harrowing interrogation
of the priest, and tells the astonishing story of his and his friends鈥� journey,
physical and spiritual. This is a novel of 鈥渇irst contact鈥� that emphasises that
the one thing we know about aliens is that they are different from us.
Russell is an anthropologist and linguist who manages to turn her specialist
knowledge into real wisdom. The Sparrow is about religion and faith
(not the same thing) and friendship, love and sex (by no means the same thing).
It is about cultures and misunderstanding, and the conflict between freedom and
duty. This is one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring novels of the decade.
I predict it will win the Arthur C. Clarke Award this week. It doesn鈥檛 come from
a science-fiction imprint but I doubt if anyone will complain.