By Andrew G. Dombalagian
Duncan, Dave. Pock’s World. Edge Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing (October 2010). 280pp. $14.95 USD/CDN. ISBN: 978-1-894063-47-0.
It is the end of the world. If the lurking, artificially-created superhumans do not wipe out the population, the incoming nickel-iron meteor will. What will the inhabitants do?
According to Dave Duncan, get busy like doomed little rabbits.
In the most recent of forty-some novels to his credit (Get some sleep, Mr. Duncan), Pock’s World takes the reader on a morbid tour of the titular planet as it faces destruction. Five important figures from the galactic community are selected to investigate evidence that genetically superior non-human hominids – alternately called ‘cuckoos’, ‘zombies’, ‘ghouls’, ‘chimeras’, and ‘Diallelon Abominations’ – have been found on Pock’s World. These five commissioners are asked to advise on whether the planet should be sterilized by the shadowy, looming boogeyman of an intergalactic corporation known as ‘STARS’. No word on whether Wesker would be the one pushing the button.
Pock’s World is presented as the rough end of the star sector, possessed of a nigh-inhospitable climate that only the most drastically engineered and genetically modified of settlers are able to survive. Duncan’s descriptions of the planet vacillate between harsh, volcanic wasteland and arboreal Eden. While Duncan puts much effort into describing the alien landscape of this human-colonized world, thankfully, his travelogue does not overshadow the plot or characters. Stage dressing that upstages the action of the story is part of why I never finished reading Tolkien.
The culture of Pock’s World is curious, as though Duncan were creating a resort built on the worst planet in the galaxy. A caste system demarcated by coloured capes with stripes and polka dots is silly but reasonable. High technology is juxtaposed against a mineral-poor planet, shown through architecture reliant on wood rather than stone and metal. Small details like houses built on skis to account for serious seismic activity are fine touches Duncan inserts to lend verisimilitude to his world-building skills. While the humid, caustic atmosphere of Pock’s World is explained as deteriorating clothing rapidly, having most of the female population walk around topless is still just lewd fan service.
I like to consider myself a feminist and perhaps that is why this novel did not sit well with me. Surprisingly, for a story using a goddess religion as a backdrop, there are no strong, respectable female characters present in Pock’s World. Every character in this novel makes a sacrifice and that forms the overarching theme for the novel. The difference is that the male characters all receive a reward for their sacrifice; for the female characters, their own sacrifice is their only reward.
Athena Fimble, a famed galactic senator, begins her role by deciding that politics is too hard, so she should settle for motherhood. On Pock’s World, she only steps up to heroism when her maternal instinct is rankled. Furthermore, the manner in which she is forced into political prostitution tears down her respectability and swaps it for pity. After the anti-climax, when Athena is poised to bring justice to the galaxy, Duncan instead makes a fool of her and ruins her chances of accomplishing anything beyond adopting a child and anticipating a life of guilt and regret.
Millie Backet, a such-and-such director from this-or-that big name galactic council, is an airhead stock character from a B-grade horror movie and her fate befits that role. Backet’s only characterization is a position in administrative middle management, one or two shallow pieces of dialogue every other chapter, and a grisly death. Even if Duncan fleshed her character out beyond this, I imagine that the audience would still find little to endear themselves to Director Backet. Admittedly, having this hollow character visit a gift shop on a planet about to be wiped out was a chillingly-hilarious creative touch by Duncan.
On the other hand, the male protagonists offer no shining heroes, either. Linn Lazuline is a rich sleazeball with a flashy name. Nothing more and nothing less. While he receives a fittingly explosive demise, it is only after he achieves his lifelong dream of disgracing, humiliating, and utterly defiling a certain woman. His death is not even a moralistic punishment for his wrongdoings, merely part of a plot device.
Father Andre’s introduction dominates the opening of the novel. Despite being built into a man of saintly caliber, he fades into the background soon after liftoff. The Padre becomes more of a prop than an actual character. On occasion, he does serve as a successor to the tradition of the Chorus in an ancient Greek drama, but Father Andre only acts in this capacity to the point of shaking his head or clucking his tongue at the bawdiness of other characters.
The final protagonist, and the one given the most depth, is the famous journalist, Ratty Turnsole. There is something about this character that I believe Ernest Hemingway would be proud of. Maybe it was the way Ratty commits statutory rape and is practically made prince of Pock’s World as a direct result. Ratty is the science-fiction embodiment of a middle-aged man’s fantasies of redemption and glory through sexual conquest. His level of sleaze is only a modicum below Linn, which is why I am loathe to admit that Ratty was the most interesting character in the story. Beyond taking advantage of an underage, living incarnation of a goddess, Ratty’s other “heroic” accomplishment is throwing her grandmother off of a cliff.
Three of the four living goddesses in the Pocosin religion are revered as wise, dutiful, and dedicated to their people. That is why it is such a shame that we learn so little about them and that their only role is to stand at the forefront of their population, watching as their world faces destruction. The only one of the goddesses that Duncan ingratiates with the reader is the immature, flighty, irresponsible sex object that latches herself helplessly onto Ratty. When the end of her world looms, all she is allowed to do is cry, cheer for her mate, and then offer the spread of her legs.
Enough of my gender critique venom.
There is nothing terribly groundbreaking about this novel. I will admit that it is refreshing to see a science fiction drama using planetary cleansing, one of the tropes I see less often. Planting this story element into a society not terribly distanced from ours by spirit, though very far from us in time, offers an appreciable plot for consideration.
Just the same, if Dave Duncan’s name goes down in science fiction history, it will probably not be for this book. To his credit, I must concede that not many authors in this genre are willing to jump so far ahead in the future for a setting.
Gene Roddenberry only went a few hundred years into the future. Even absurdist Matt Groening only takes us 1000 years ahead for Futurama.
The only authors I can think of that have imagined so far forward in time are Frank Herbert and H.G. Wells. Not being as familiar with those two legends as I should like to be, I can only offer cursory evaluation. This is not to say that Duncan is the next Wells or Herbert. His courage to dream so far ahead is admirable, even if the skill he brings to the task is only adequate.
Duncan does offer some meaningful food for thought in terms of speculation for advanced technology and space exploration. The interstellar transit system he utilizes in Pock’s World, called ‘Entanglement’, is essentially an iteration of the transporter trope. Duncan peels back the idealistic veneer of molecular teleportation by pointing out that in disassembling passengers, it kills them, only to assemble new bodies elsewhere and download their memories into what are basically clones. Other technological wonders include cranial implants that bring the convenience and power of modern electronics – and more – directly into one’s brain and ratchet them up to the speed of thought. I was personally impressed with the idea of replacing the use of cameras in journalism with implanted devices that take sensory recordings of the experiences witnessed firsthand by reporters and their teams.
Capturing the progression of the plot, Duncan organizes his book by chapters within sections named after the days of the week. (Not the days as we know them, but by their humourously misspelled equivalents of thirty centuries from now). While it seems highly plausible that things as ordinary as the names of days would change in such a vast length of time, the names that Duncan has chosen still foster a chuckle. This point also makes a reader question how the days of the week could change in thirty thousand years, but how the dogma of the Roman Catholic Church survives seemingly unaltered.
Rather than being epic, the names that Duncan has conceived for his characters barely avoid being silly. Granted, though, that even ‘Ratty Turnsole’ is not in the sewer league of names that Mystery Science Theater 3000 introduced during Space Mutiny. For all the beefy, tertiary characters introduced in Pock’s World, there are no ‘Slab Bulkhead’s or ‘David Ryder’s to offend good taste. The overall idea of the plot is intriguing and is probably one of the more compelling aspects of the novel. Even elements of Duncan’s subplots are not without merit. The twist ending is worth appreciation. It was not the sort of ugly blindside that leaves an audience fuming at an author, but rather, one of those charming deus ex machina devices that still manage to tickle a reader’s fancy.
One of the biggest detriments to Pock’s World is the lack of focus in the plot and character development. It is no easy task to juggle a dozen or more characters and several subplots running concurrent with the main storyline, and I cannot say that Duncan was entirely successful here. Quick jumps between perspectives, often used to mark the start of a new chapter in Pock’s World, distract the reader from becoming too deeply involved with the characters. This alienation through lack of focus is probably what kept many of the characters from being likable.
This is not the hot read of the season. I will not claim that this story was a page-turner or one of those books that I could not put down. In fact, I had to digest the book over the course of a dozen or so sittings. The novel was enjoyable, though not enthralling. That I liked the book is really the most I can say. I would not recommend rushing out to a big chain bookstore and buying this novel new; however, if you find it online – or better yet, at your local used bookstore – try picking up Pock’s World.
You can purchase Pock’s World from Amazon.com.