Notes on the 2010 Sunburst Award
This essay appeared in the April 2011 issue of The New York Review of Science Fiction. I've already posted snippets of it as reviews of the books it discusses but thought I'd post the whole thing here. It's not just about books, it's about quitting smoking too. This is the NYRSF edit; mine is a teeny bit different. However, I have gone back to Canadian spelling, and put the u's back in favourite and honourable.
A couple of years ago I ordered all the Sunburst Award finalists through the interlibrary loan program, thinking in this way to stumble upon something wonderful I’d never have come across otherwise. The fact of my having done so made me an ideal Sunburst jury chair, I know, but as I didn’t advertise having done this, I must have been picked for some other reason. Anyway, I indeed came across many wonderful authors I hadn’t read before, and some I hadn’t read enough of or recently. The Sunbursts, I tell all who ask and many who don’t, are juried awards with cash prizes and hence kind of like the Canadian Nebulas, while our Auroras resemble the Hugos. It has been pointed out to me that if I had any nationalist pride at all I would tell the story the other way around. While this is probably true, I have Canadian friends who know what the Hugos and Nebulas are but not the Sunburst or Aurora Awards, a sad situation that needs to be remedied forthwith. I recommend reading the Sunburst shortlists and Honourable Mentions as a way of familiarizing oneself with some amazing Canadian authors, those published at home, south of the border and elsewhere.
Chairing the Sunburst jury for the 2010 awards (for books published in 2009) coincided with leaving behind a lifelong cigarette habit. I contented myself with bits of teaching and editing and this and that. I had to prioritize it, everyone said, or the whole project would nosedive. If I didn’t write while I quit, so be it. What’s the rest of your life worth? So, in a way, the timing of the jury was a blessing. Unable to write, I could read all I wanted. Unable to really write, I drafted voluminous notes for books on my personal shortlist, especially for the YA category. I like to get more than one use out of a piece of writing when I can, and hence include below some of these notes, on occasion slightly revised. I think I drove my fellow jurors crazy. These favourites of my own all ended up not as finalists but as Honourable Mentions, except for "Half World," which won the Sunburst for YA, and "Dragon Seer," which didn’t appear on any of our final lists.
"The Gryphon Project" by Carrie Mac
Toronto: Puffin Canada;
C$14.00 tpb; 309 pages
I was dismayed to learn just how little science fiction, good or bad is currently being written for the young and Carrie Mac’s novel deserves kudos for this alone. In “The Gryphon Project,” protagonist Phoenix and her brother Gryphon live in a near-future gated community. Gryphon, Phoenix and their friends are as privileged as young people can be, yet are nonetheless subject to worries about fighting parents, grades, dating, friendships and the like. Wealth and status in no way confer a stress-free life, but they do guarantee a chance at extra lives; each citizen has one to three, depending on their social position. How many lives does everyone get, and more importantly, who gets to decide? The top-tier kids are conditioned to be unquestioning of their three chances at rebirth should they die an early death. Part of their value, especially those individuals such as star athlete Gryphon who play a highly public role, lies in their unquestioning acquiescence to this system, set up and controlled by governing body and GM giant Chrysalis. Without being polemic this book warns of the inherent ethical dangers of genetic engineering and of the increased powers it cedes to the wealthy Chrysalis whose godchild it is.
Gryphon’s awakening to injustice eventually turns him into a radical, a political journey he at first tries to keep secret from all but his closest friends. This book is part science fiction, part detective story, for Phoenix works hard to unravel the layers of secrecy surrounding Gryphon, different sets of overlapping secrets guarded by his best friends and Chrysalis. Here Mac aptly portrays the secret lives teens crave and carve out for themselves even when functioning as public figures in the broader community.
Some reviewers have remarked that passive Phoenix is a poor choice as narrator as she’s passive and has little idea what her brother and his friends are up to. While somewhat true, it still seems fairly accurate, as I was a younger sibling always wanting to be included by the older kids and wondering what they were doing that they weren’t telling me about.
"Half World" by Hiromi Goto
Toronto: Puffin Canada, 2009;
C$20.00 hc; 221 pages
When I was a child, my mother bought my sister and me a collection of translated Japanese fairy tales accompanied by wonderful line drawings; Jillian Tamaki’s illustrations in “Half World” both recapture and modernize the feel and style of those drawings. They are a wonderful addition to the book, especially the crows. A river of birds! I have an unfinished story with that image in it, but no one runs across them! Goto’s description of what it feels like to cross, on foot, this bridge of birds in flight is so richly imagined and described; it is as if we experience it for ourselves. This is only one example of many such phantasmagoric sequences strung like brightly coloured lights the entire length of this iridescent book. Reading, I was thoroughly smitten and felt like I had known them forever, pathetic but likeable little Melanie and Jade Rat and even the magic eight ball, yet they are so startlingly new and original!
Beyond the hypnagogic wonders of the Half World setting, and the clever yet unobtrusive cosmology of its concept this is a mother-daughter story, a fact which sets the novel apart for few such are written. Most YA novels focus on peer relationships: the best friend or the crush, the best friend or the crush in spec fic often enough being a ghost or a vampire or some derivation. Goto’s stylish incendiary prose lifts "Half World" above the YA category; this novel crosses age boundaries and could, in spite of its teenage protagonist Melanie just as easily be categorized as a book for adults. Also, this book is full of sounds! Popping sucking gruesome sounds. In the fiction class I teach I am always admonishing my students, as all writing teachers must, to include the physical. Taste touch sound smell; favour the specific over the general; vivid descriptions of the information brought to us via our senses carry the day! Most writers, however, whether student, amateur or professional, while mustering to include plenty of visual detail, a smell here, a taste there, the feel of someone’s skin or a peach or cold metal; most abandon sound entirely, unless, of course, their setting is war, a noisy locale generally.
James Grainger at the important Canadian review publication Quill and Quire said this book is too short for its content; we need more back story, need to experience more of Melanie and her Mom’s poverty and misery to properly appreciate the heroism and necessity of her quest. Could be, but it didn’t strike me as a huge omission, and the Sunburst jury gave the YA award to “Half World.”
"Seal Intestine Raincoat" by Rosie Chard
Edmonton: NeWest Press;
C$14.40 tpb; 251 pages
“Seal Intestine Raincoat” is a beautifully written debut about one boy’s journey towards manhood and leadership. In his unassuming way Fred Forester learns about violent alcoholic men, girls, his own limits, planning, and what to do when middle-aged women crumple up. This is a dense, elegiac, little book somewhat reminiscent of Doris Lessing’s “Memoir of a Survivor.” The premise here is that the price of gas shoots up just prior to a snowmaggedon storm so severe it causes massive grid failure in the Canadian prairies as well as in border States. The youthful protagonist, recently transplanted from England with his parents, (as is true for the author) makes wry outsider’s observations about North American malls, subdivisions and Inuit folk, one of whom inspires Fred with his stories of growing up in sub- zero temperatures without aid of electricity, gas powered vehicles or store bought groceries. During the group’s ordeal Fred often thinks back on Ata’s tales. They include valid tips that he employs: For instance, that the group is more likely to survive the deep cold if they sleep together in a canvas tent in the living room, making the best use of their own body heat. Along with the seal intestine coat or anorak, Ata gifted to Fred, the tips are his touchstone, reminding him that others have survived fierce weather with fewer amenities.
I’m not sure we needed the skyrocketing gas prices; even without, would the affected population have been able to depart for warmer more electrified climes? I was often reminded of the ice storm in eastern Ontario in ‘98, and the stories I read, or was told, about people’s experiences during that extreme weather episode. This novel contained more or less the same thing, but on a smaller, shorter scale. Is this book even spec fic? Beyond being told at the outset that we are three years into the future, there isn’t much of anything to let us know we’re not in the present. Maybe it’s Mundane SF: the problems SIR focuses on are real-world problems, extrapolated only a little; the scale and duration of the gas price hike and midwinter power failure outstrip anything we’ve experienced to date. One failing to me was the complete absence of technological solutions, but SIR is a microcosm describing one household’s journey; perhaps two blocks over a family rigged up bicycle-powered generators to run their electric furnace or space heaters.
"Raven" by Alison van Diepen
Toronto: Simon Pulse;
C$18.99 hc; 288 pages
"Raven" stands out for its sensuality; protagonist Nicole/Raven's love of break-dancing and the physicality of her doomed crush on Zin suffuse the book. The dance club Evermore and accompanying cultural milieu are interesting and unusual; the descriptions of lower Manhattan feel real enough to this reviewer who lived there for a while back in the day; van Diepen too taught and wrote in Brooklyn for a time. However, without the knowledge of hip-hop dance the terminology peppered throughout leaves us in the dark. Another flaw is the sketchy description of the history and provenance of the esoteric lineage of vampiric soul eaters or whatever the Jiang Shi even are; van Diepen’s version seems to stray from the traditional Chinese zombie folklore. What pulses here is the relationship between Zin and Nic/Raven. Their concern for one another is aptly drawn and refreshing; the last thing Zin wants is for Raven to give herself away, even when it’s what she thinks she wants, to escape from the difficulties at home, which include an addict brother. Zin and Raven’s conversations move from dance talk to philosophical discussions and this combination seems as accurate a portrayal as any of the passions of the young. What is evidenced by their subtle and shifting friendship is that both Nic and Zin are connected to the eternal, in spite of their age differences. A book for Stephanie Meyer fans only better, some say.
"Dragon Seer" by Janet McNaughton
Toronto: Harper Trophy;
C$19.99 tpb; 320 pages
I was quite taken with this novel in which young Madoca is chosen as dragon seer in place of her mistress, Annoc. Sensitive, loyal, and possessing a deep power surpassing that of her predecessors, Madoca is trained as the last of the dragon seers, eventually helping the gentle creatures move safely to another dimension as their time on Earth fades. McNaughton travelled to Orkney to research this book and her feel for the landscape and history including the marauding Vikings who aim to destroy the dragon culture, is evident. McNaughton’s twist—drawing the dragons as small, funny wisdom-keepers full of personality—was refreshing. None of my fellow Sunburst jurors selected this book, which was slightly unusual as there was much similarity of taste among us; it was, however, recognized by the jury for the TD Bank Canadian Childrens’ Literature Award, which at 25K, is Canada’s richest prize for YA fiction. The 2010 TD honoured previous Governor General Award-winner Arthur Slade’s steampunk “The Hunchback Assignments,” a novel we also short-listed. The nifty part is that two sf books made it onto the TD short list, and one of them won.
Half World
A couple of years ago I ordered all the Sunburst Award finalists through the interlibrary loan program, thinking in this way to stumble upon something wonderful I’d never have come across otherwise. The fact of my having done so made me an ideal Sunburst jury chair, I know, but as I didn’t advertise having done this, I must have been picked for some other reason. Anyway, I indeed came across many wonderful authors I hadn’t read before, and some I hadn’t read enough of or recently. The Sunbursts, I tell all who ask and many who don’t, are juried awards with cash prizes and hence kind of like the Canadian Nebulas, while our Auroras resemble the Hugos. It has been pointed out to me that if I had any nationalist pride at all I would tell the story the other way around. While this is probably true, I have Canadian friends who know what the Hugos and Nebulas are but not the Sunburst or Aurora Awards, a sad situation that needs to be remedied forthwith. I recommend reading the Sunburst shortlists and Honourable Mentions as a way of familiarizing oneself with some amazing Canadian authors, those published at home, south of the border and elsewhere.
Chairing the Sunburst jury for the 2010 awards (for books published in 2009) coincided with leaving behind a lifelong cigarette habit. I contented myself with bits of teaching and editing and this and that. I had to prioritize it, everyone said, or the whole project would nosedive. If I didn’t write while I quit, so be it. What’s the rest of your life worth? So, in a way, the timing of the jury was a blessing. Unable to write, I could read all I wanted. Unable to really write, I drafted voluminous notes for books on my personal shortlist, especially for the YA category. I like to get more than one use out of a piece of writing when I can, and hence include below some of these notes, on occasion slightly revised. I think I drove my fellow jurors crazy. These favourites of my own all ended up not as finalists but as Honourable Mentions, except for "Half World," which won the Sunburst for YA, and "Dragon Seer," which didn’t appear on any of our final lists.
"The Gryphon Project" by Carrie Mac
Toronto: Puffin Canada;
C$14.00 tpb; 309 pages
I was dismayed to learn just how little science fiction, good or bad is currently being written for the young and Carrie Mac’s novel deserves kudos for this alone. In “The Gryphon Project,” protagonist Phoenix and her brother Gryphon live in a near-future gated community. Gryphon, Phoenix and their friends are as privileged as young people can be, yet are nonetheless subject to worries about fighting parents, grades, dating, friendships and the like. Wealth and status in no way confer a stress-free life, but they do guarantee a chance at extra lives; each citizen has one to three, depending on their social position. How many lives does everyone get, and more importantly, who gets to decide? The top-tier kids are conditioned to be unquestioning of their three chances at rebirth should they die an early death. Part of their value, especially those individuals such as star athlete Gryphon who play a highly public role, lies in their unquestioning acquiescence to this system, set up and controlled by governing body and GM giant Chrysalis. Without being polemic this book warns of the inherent ethical dangers of genetic engineering and of the increased powers it cedes to the wealthy Chrysalis whose godchild it is.
Gryphon’s awakening to injustice eventually turns him into a radical, a political journey he at first tries to keep secret from all but his closest friends. This book is part science fiction, part detective story, for Phoenix works hard to unravel the layers of secrecy surrounding Gryphon, different sets of overlapping secrets guarded by his best friends and Chrysalis. Here Mac aptly portrays the secret lives teens crave and carve out for themselves even when functioning as public figures in the broader community.
Some reviewers have remarked that passive Phoenix is a poor choice as narrator as she’s passive and has little idea what her brother and his friends are up to. While somewhat true, it still seems fairly accurate, as I was a younger sibling always wanting to be included by the older kids and wondering what they were doing that they weren’t telling me about.
"Half World" by Hiromi Goto
Toronto: Puffin Canada, 2009;
C$20.00 hc; 221 pages
When I was a child, my mother bought my sister and me a collection of translated Japanese fairy tales accompanied by wonderful line drawings; Jillian Tamaki’s illustrations in “Half World” both recapture and modernize the feel and style of those drawings. They are a wonderful addition to the book, especially the crows. A river of birds! I have an unfinished story with that image in it, but no one runs across them! Goto’s description of what it feels like to cross, on foot, this bridge of birds in flight is so richly imagined and described; it is as if we experience it for ourselves. This is only one example of many such phantasmagoric sequences strung like brightly coloured lights the entire length of this iridescent book. Reading, I was thoroughly smitten and felt like I had known them forever, pathetic but likeable little Melanie and Jade Rat and even the magic eight ball, yet they are so startlingly new and original!
Beyond the hypnagogic wonders of the Half World setting, and the clever yet unobtrusive cosmology of its concept this is a mother-daughter story, a fact which sets the novel apart for few such are written. Most YA novels focus on peer relationships: the best friend or the crush, the best friend or the crush in spec fic often enough being a ghost or a vampire or some derivation. Goto’s stylish incendiary prose lifts "Half World" above the YA category; this novel crosses age boundaries and could, in spite of its teenage protagonist Melanie just as easily be categorized as a book for adults. Also, this book is full of sounds! Popping sucking gruesome sounds. In the fiction class I teach I am always admonishing my students, as all writing teachers must, to include the physical. Taste touch sound smell; favour the specific over the general; vivid descriptions of the information brought to us via our senses carry the day! Most writers, however, whether student, amateur or professional, while mustering to include plenty of visual detail, a smell here, a taste there, the feel of someone’s skin or a peach or cold metal; most abandon sound entirely, unless, of course, their setting is war, a noisy locale generally.
James Grainger at the important Canadian review publication Quill and Quire said this book is too short for its content; we need more back story, need to experience more of Melanie and her Mom’s poverty and misery to properly appreciate the heroism and necessity of her quest. Could be, but it didn’t strike me as a huge omission, and the Sunburst jury gave the YA award to “Half World.”
"Seal Intestine Raincoat" by Rosie Chard
Edmonton: NeWest Press;
C$14.40 tpb; 251 pages
“Seal Intestine Raincoat” is a beautifully written debut about one boy’s journey towards manhood and leadership. In his unassuming way Fred Forester learns about violent alcoholic men, girls, his own limits, planning, and what to do when middle-aged women crumple up. This is a dense, elegiac, little book somewhat reminiscent of Doris Lessing’s “Memoir of a Survivor.” The premise here is that the price of gas shoots up just prior to a snowmaggedon storm so severe it causes massive grid failure in the Canadian prairies as well as in border States. The youthful protagonist, recently transplanted from England with his parents, (as is true for the author) makes wry outsider’s observations about North American malls, subdivisions and Inuit folk, one of whom inspires Fred with his stories of growing up in sub- zero temperatures without aid of electricity, gas powered vehicles or store bought groceries. During the group’s ordeal Fred often thinks back on Ata’s tales. They include valid tips that he employs: For instance, that the group is more likely to survive the deep cold if they sleep together in a canvas tent in the living room, making the best use of their own body heat. Along with the seal intestine coat or anorak, Ata gifted to Fred, the tips are his touchstone, reminding him that others have survived fierce weather with fewer amenities.
I’m not sure we needed the skyrocketing gas prices; even without, would the affected population have been able to depart for warmer more electrified climes? I was often reminded of the ice storm in eastern Ontario in ‘98, and the stories I read, or was told, about people’s experiences during that extreme weather episode. This novel contained more or less the same thing, but on a smaller, shorter scale. Is this book even spec fic? Beyond being told at the outset that we are three years into the future, there isn’t much of anything to let us know we’re not in the present. Maybe it’s Mundane SF: the problems SIR focuses on are real-world problems, extrapolated only a little; the scale and duration of the gas price hike and midwinter power failure outstrip anything we’ve experienced to date. One failing to me was the complete absence of technological solutions, but SIR is a microcosm describing one household’s journey; perhaps two blocks over a family rigged up bicycle-powered generators to run their electric furnace or space heaters.
"Raven" by Alison van Diepen
Toronto: Simon Pulse;
C$18.99 hc; 288 pages
"Raven" stands out for its sensuality; protagonist Nicole/Raven's love of break-dancing and the physicality of her doomed crush on Zin suffuse the book. The dance club Evermore and accompanying cultural milieu are interesting and unusual; the descriptions of lower Manhattan feel real enough to this reviewer who lived there for a while back in the day; van Diepen too taught and wrote in Brooklyn for a time. However, without the knowledge of hip-hop dance the terminology peppered throughout leaves us in the dark. Another flaw is the sketchy description of the history and provenance of the esoteric lineage of vampiric soul eaters or whatever the Jiang Shi even are; van Diepen’s version seems to stray from the traditional Chinese zombie folklore. What pulses here is the relationship between Zin and Nic/Raven. Their concern for one another is aptly drawn and refreshing; the last thing Zin wants is for Raven to give herself away, even when it’s what she thinks she wants, to escape from the difficulties at home, which include an addict brother. Zin and Raven’s conversations move from dance talk to philosophical discussions and this combination seems as accurate a portrayal as any of the passions of the young. What is evidenced by their subtle and shifting friendship is that both Nic and Zin are connected to the eternal, in spite of their age differences. A book for Stephanie Meyer fans only better, some say.
"Dragon Seer" by Janet McNaughton
Toronto: Harper Trophy;
C$19.99 tpb; 320 pages
I was quite taken with this novel in which young Madoca is chosen as dragon seer in place of her mistress, Annoc. Sensitive, loyal, and possessing a deep power surpassing that of her predecessors, Madoca is trained as the last of the dragon seers, eventually helping the gentle creatures move safely to another dimension as their time on Earth fades. McNaughton travelled to Orkney to research this book and her feel for the landscape and history including the marauding Vikings who aim to destroy the dragon culture, is evident. McNaughton’s twist—drawing the dragons as small, funny wisdom-keepers full of personality—was refreshing. None of my fellow Sunburst jurors selected this book, which was slightly unusual as there was much similarity of taste among us; it was, however, recognized by the jury for the TD Bank Canadian Childrens’ Literature Award, which at 25K, is Canada’s richest prize for YA fiction. The 2010 TD honoured previous Governor General Award-winner Arthur Slade’s steampunk “The Hunchback Assignments,” a novel we also short-listed. The nifty part is that two sf books made it onto the TD short list, and one of them won.
Half World
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