The silent hell of deep space holds certain death for the unwary. It is the task of the UN Navy to defend the starways, no matter the danger. An ailen attack and an admiral's betrayal leave a wounded Commander Seafort stranded aboard a doomed ship.
David Feintuch (1944–2006) was the author of the award-winning military science fiction Seafort Saga series, which spans Midshipman’s Hope, Challenger’s Hope, Prisoner’s Hope, Fisherman’s Hope, Voices of Hope, Patriarch’s Hope, and Children of Hope. Feintuch came to writing late, previously having worked as a lawyer and antiques dealer. In 1996, at the age of fifty, he won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer from the World Science Fiction Society. He later expanded into the fantasy genre with his Rodrigo of Caledon series, including The Still and The King.
Decent space opera, but wow, Nicholas Seafort suffers from as bad a case of Protagonist Syndrome as I've ever seen. Everything bad happens to him. Every excruciatingly difficult decision rests solidly upon his just-turned-21 shoulders. Everything that goes wrong is somehow his fault (or he feels that it is). And even when he miraculously gets the ship and passengers home safely, his dad's response is "Nice job, son--however, since you broke your oath to that one batshit insane officer when he essentially tried to maroon you in space to die, you are now a wicked Oathbreaker and will rot in hell for all eternity, so I can never speak to you again."
I mean, sheesh. I hope one of the later books in this series is titled "Vacation Where Nothing Bad Happens and There Are Also Puppies".
In the grim darkness of the future, there is only rum*, giant malevolent space goldfish, and the lash**
*I need to remind you that the distilled intoxicant of choice in this universe is called "goofjuice." **Actually just the cane, and it turns out that only junior officers are subject to being beaten with it. Which seems like a weird line in the sand to draw in a system where miscreants can be literally hanged by the neck until dead for infractions such as striking the captain, and in a series where so. much. time. is spent calculating demerits and logging how often various midshipmen get caned and whether or not it will break them or make them stronger or teach them an important lesson about not beating up other people. Corporal punishment is clearly a key piece of Feintuch's interest in doing the Age of Sail In Space, yet he restrained himself from introducing a space!cat o' nine tails? No one is going to get keelhauled in vacuum?
I was not able to bring myself to give a star rating to the first book in this "saga" on the grounds it was too outrageously, aggressively, dumb that it defied the logic of a book-rating system. This second installment, which you will notice I did manage to rate, puts into perspective what my problems were. Unlike the first book, this book has a fairly strong plot/crisis that dominates the whole book: our hero is dumped on a disabled ship light years from home with only his least likable midshipman (whom he and his officers basically terrorized into a nervous breakdown in the previous book), a skeleton crew of troublemakers, a handful of aging passengers, and a gaggle of feral street children dumped on an orphan train-to-space. Seafort has to try to make a functional crew that can keep everyone alive and figure out how to deal with the impossible position he's in, at the head of a sealed-community with almost no hope of rescue, no way to get home, and dwindling rations. This provides plot with stakes to scaffold the stuff that Feintuch cares about, namely, having Seafort yell at everyone, alienate everyone because the naval regs require him to do so, angst around self-hatingly, and then reluctantly accept that his harshness has in fact made him a hero because it's What Needed To Be Done, and What Teenaged Boy Doesn't Need A Good Beating Now And Again To Teach Him Manners. But here there are, stakes that relate directly to whether or not Seafort's rigid sense of duty and naval hierarchy will save his ship or destroy it. (In the first "book" this social drama was basically all there was, except for occasional thrilling Incidents like taking out the manual and figuring out how to reprogram the ship's computer for three chapters.)
So I can consider this A Novel. In fact, it's a novel with a pretty good plot, as milscifi standard plots go. Things are tense! I genuinely needed to know how they would get out of this one! To Feintuch's (small) credit, the subplot with the feral urchins was not treated entirely cheaply (but see below): as you would expect, Seafort finds a few Worthy Individuals Who Want To Better Themselves among them, but there's no overnight integration of the more privileged passengers and the lowlife teenage gangmembers, and even Seafort's protegés for the most part have not become settled in the "civilized" world of the Navy after the six months of so that the novel covers.
That said. -The final plot resolution is an unabashed deus ex machina, and that sort of spoils it. -I've mostly avoided talking in detail about this whole subplot because it's just BAD, but it needs to be said: everything involving the feral street urchins is extremely racist in implication and execution. This is a novel written in the mid-90s, and the Clinton crime bill and its racist scaremongering about "super-predators" are all over it. -I don't even know where to start with the treatment of female character's/Seafort's romantic life. But it's bad. Really bad.
If it weren't for these last two elements, I could probably give this book two stars on the grounds that although terrible on any objective level, it's tolerable as mindless fun. But because of them, I have to give it but one star. And 13 demerits.
Tight and compelling all the way through, but not quite as good as the first book, if only because Seafort manages to cross the line to sincerely unlikable several times.
I did not like this book, through it does meeting the qualifications of a well-written military sci-fi space opera and I finished reading the book, hence the 2-star rating.
The main character, Nick Seafort, is throughably unlikable. His temper surges and takes over - making him beat and insult people plus constantly has him making decisions he later has to apologize for, and he is a Captain.
The universe is setup for a military based on the strictest authoritarian structure I have ever seen. It wouldn't work; while it would make an interesting short story exploration and did make a okay first novel, the culture is unsustainable as a series. Military not only needs a strong "you will follow my orders even until death", but also needs a respect of specialists. Mr. Seafort, on occassion, teaches his midshipmen about respect and trust of officers and seamen, he never shows it. Military's power comes from a group acting as one - to do that the "head" needs to gather information from the specialists and the Captain never draws information for decisions from his officers - people drawn from the intellectual elite of the several worlds. At first I thought maybe because he had jumped from midshipman to captain he never had time for training, but the book never mentions an "officer school". It does goes into him entering the Academy. One assumes the academy would include courses on how to be part of a captain's staff and/or admiral's staff. In addition, one of the first thing any officer gets taught (in the real world - naval or army) is to listen to the OLDER enlisted men and take their advice.
But instead this military is totally reactive with about half the officers, including Mr. Seafort, suffering from all the signs of PSTD. The beatdowns and hazing happening between 13 and 17 while the potential officers are cadets and midshipman cross the line all the time. Several of the midshipman have shown to have nervous breakdowns. And the officers above them are all suffering from PSTD - unexpected anger lashing out, physical abuse of those weaker than them, nightmares & flashbacks, few loving feelings and inability to express them, and inability to trust others.
Further Mr. Seafort's relationship with his wife is totally unbelievable. The sheer contempt he treats her opinions and beliefs would have any (older) educated woman running away, unless he totally isolated her. The relationship is completely unhealthy for both of them. And the author's ill-use of women in the book grated on my nerves over time. Everything from black eyes to insanity, from "coltish" attempts at seduction to "being rough up a bit but they will get over it".
The world is bleak, the politics heavy-handed, the military impossible as a functioning institution, the "love" relationship disgusting, and the treatment of humans on all respects unbelievable in an environment when people will need to be highly educated.
I did not really like the first book in this series, MIDSHIPMAN'S HOPE. However, I had already purchased the first three volumes as a discounted set, so I decided to try this one. Maybe it would be an improvement as the author garnered experience. No hope. Seafort displays even more of the characteristics of a manic depressive. As in the first volume, it seems as though he is determined to alienate everyone around him. Yet when its all over, many of them now think he is great. Why? He, his ship and some of his crew and passengers survive this disaster through incredible luck and an outrageous plot device. A most unpleasant main character who has no business being an officer much less a ship's captain.
In reading the negative reviews of the first three volumes, I noticed that some accuse Mr Fieintuch of being racist based on the language and slang of the "transpop" substratum population of this future world. I recall not a single reference in either book to the race or ethnicity of the "transpops" or anyone else. To claim that such are identified by language and slang in use far in the future is an interesting and revealing assumption.
Obviously Horatio Hornblower in space, and that's not bad. I was, however, already tiring of the protagonist's whining during the otherwise entertaining Midshipman's Hope (book 1). His flagellation only becomes worse in Challenger's Hope. It is extremely annoying. HE is extremely annoying. I am currently reading book 3, and it goes on. I almost threw down my Kindle when he once AGAIN sighs inwardly, realising that AGAIN he has alienated this and that young officer after having thrown a tantrum. Fists are being clenched, rage causes trembling, glances are withering etc. etc. etc. My ride with Capt Seaforth won't go any further.
Prica se nastavlja manje vise direktno na prethodnu ali dok je prosla jos imala klasicnu atmosferu space opera samo previse, ova knjiga je ozbiljnija i dosta depresivnija. Brrrrr.
Preporucujem samo budite spremni na mracnija ljudska razmisljanja.
I rated the first book 5/5 stars. I had very high hopes for this series, but alas, all my hopes are now dashed.
I delayed writing this review for almost 4 days, just trying to absorb everything, and i even went on to read the third book in this series. At the time of this review, i am almost 60% through that book. Let me tell you one thing...it does not get better.
I don't want this to seem like i didn't enjoy the book, because i definitely did, but at the same time i can look at this book and say, objectively, that it's...mostly mediocre and just stright bad the rest of the time. Let's get into a few examples.
***Spoilers from here on***
Let's start with a minior inconsistency i noticed right at the beginning of the book. Here's the quote in question.
"-I would enjoy the game. On the other hand, regs required an officer on watch to remain alert at all times.-"
This is talking about chess and being able to play it on watch, and funnily enough, this was almost the exact line they used in the last book to justify playing chess during fusion. and Nick did so. here is the quote pulled directly from the first book.
"-“Isn’t it against regs?” “I read them again, sir, before bringing it up. They say you must stay alert. They don’t say you can’t read or play a game. All the alarms have audible signals, anyway.”-"
Again, this particular point is minor, but im a stickler for inconsistencies like this, so i thought it was worth mentioning.
Something i also noticed in the book was an increase in exposition. While that was also present in the first book, it felt much more common in this one. That's not necessarily bad. I even think it's somewhat necessary in this particular story. What is an issue, though, is what seems like an increasing reliance on it.
Another passing mention is the increase of spelling and other errors in this book. None of which should have gotten through editing.
We've clearly settled into a pattern with the character development for our MC, and by that, i mean there is none. Don't get me wrong, it definitely looks and feels like character development, but whatever note it ends on at the end of the books, it basically resets at the beginning of the next. It's the same process each time. Nicky acts like an ass. He complains internally about alienating people but proceeds to change nothing about how he acts. He makes some sort of command decision, people get hurt or some other form of consequence, he blames himself and through various story elements he seemingly deals with his issues and somewhat acts better towards people and accepts what happened. Only for all of that progress to be reset at the start of the next book and the same cycle start anew.
All of this, so far, pales in comparison to the issue that comes next, though.
"-Amanda hummed softly to Nate as she rocked. “Find something for Gregor to do, Nicky,” she whispered. “Don’t let him sit and brood about his mother.”“I don’t think he wants anything from me.” I remembered Gregor’s fury at being made to sit at dinner with the transients. I unbuttoned my shirt. God, I was tired. I went to the crib and threw back the blankets. “Let’s put him down, hon. Come keep me warm while I sleep.” I smiled wearily, held out my arms for my son. Reluctantly she put the baby in my hands and went to smooth the crib. I cuddled Nate on my shoulder. He was quite cold. He must have been dead for hours.-"
I can't stress enough that there was absolutely no setup for his sons death. No mention that he caught whatever virus was on the ship at the time or any other reason. I literally turned a page, and boom, his son is dead, out of nowhere. And if you think there would be an explanation about the death, a reason given afterward so as to avoid the whole situation feeling fake and manufactured, then you'd be wrong. There's a scene with a quick funeral, and then his body is blown out an airlock.
His sons death is used as a major turning point in the book, the entire rest of the story relies on his death for any of it to happen, compounding the fake feeling this whole thing gives me. Like im not kidding, after this his wife can't overcome her grief so she spaces herself, and because our MC lost his entire family he doesn't fight his orders when he's tricked and left to die on a disabled ship. This one event (his sons death) has widespread consequences to the rest of the story, and just being thrown in there makes the entire rest of the book feel like it shouldn't have happened
This is the second book of the Seafort Saga and it is even a bit better than book one. One of the most interesting aspects to me was the introduction of the "trans-pop" culture.
In the futre Fentuch envisions, in some large cities, the elite live in shielded buildings and much of the city below is deserted. The "transient population" lives amidst the rubble of the old cities and has a great mistrust of the the "Uppies". The "trannies" appear here for the first time. They are a violent., gang like culture--but with some rules and honor.
Nick Seafort must work with the tranies and the rest of the crew as they seek to repair the ship. Won't give any spoilers, but the race to get home alive is gripping.
Increasingly disenchanted with the main character, who is at best a tyrant and rather incompetent. In fairness his character is probably fairly realistic in terms of what he's gone through, though everyone else's is a bit hero-worship-y. The weird pseudo-Christianity and insistence on the merits of corporal punishment also very jarring.
A fine continuation, where our lead stretches his wings against fate and circumstance, and all of the lesser characters get a chance to shine as well. Similar to the first volume in tone, but much darker in execution.
Re-read. Not quite as button-pushing as the last one, but only because I like the secondary characters less in this installment. This one is a tight, exciting adventure story. For me, the ending is somehow both total deus ex machina and at the same time kind of earned and completely satisfying.
This book was brutal. It was intended to be, as a reinforcement both of the author's seeming belief that life isn't fair and that duty overrides everything else. He takes these themes to extremes multiple times, and puts his main character in situations where his moral compass is in direct conflict with what his situation demands. Many parts of this book were unpleasant and uncomfortable to read. This all felt like it was intentional, not a byproduct of the horrible personality this character has been imbued with. He is unconscionably rigid, obtuse at times, and even occasionally wishy-washy as he tries to find his feet as a commanding officer in increasingly trying scenarios. I believe Feintuch was trying to give us a slice of what happens when the rules just don't appear to encompass certain emergencies. It feels very realistic at times, and the author gives us just enough redemption throughout for the main character's horribleness to keep us from actively rooting against him (mostly).
This book follows U.N. naval space officer Nicholas Seafort on his first command, briefly after his return at the end of the previous book. These books have a common theme - Seafort is never given enough time, resources, or manpower to handle the vast majority of the calamities he finds himself at the center of. In this book, he winds up for all intents and purposes marooned in space, a horrible conclusion to a whole series of horrible events that led him here. His authority is constantly in question due to his age and lack of experience, he's set up to fail in multiple ways by those who had the power to help him, and his own personal experiences and unflinching rigidity with respect to his religion and his code of conduct restrict him. He gets in his own way often, to the point that it's almost funny (and would be, if his predicaments and their outcomes weren't so grim). He fails to learn lessons until its too late, he is impossible to deal with on a personal level, and he can't seem to see the parallels between what he's doing and the inevitable negative outcomes. This is really hard to like, and at times I really didn't like Seafort. The author does a great job of giving us enough background so that we can at least understand Seafort, if not enjoy our time with him. I would say that this is a good analogy of my experience with the whole book. It is very original, well-though-out, and deep in mental and emotional impacts of some truly awful events on otherwise good people. Many people die unnecessarily, many resources are squandered because of human fallibility, and many potential allies are alienated by Seafort's abruptness and - in my view - unnecessary adherence to some of his ideals when they no longer serve any purpose or have any anchor in his current existence. This, in essence, is what hurt this book's score: so many ostensibly pointless terrible things happen that I became almost inured to them.
The action in this book is very sparse and sporadic. I really enjoyed the scenes and plot the author was framing for us in this book, and I am definitely going to read the next one because it feels as though things are finally moving along toward the end of this book. That being said, the pacing was a serious issue for me in this book at times. There are vast tracts of this book that don't seem to be going anywhere with any urgency. In many books, this is OK. They can lean back on more minor character arcs, we can get some context for the more complex or inexplicable plot points, and then when the main story picks back up we don't feel as though we've been on hiatus for several dozen pages. In Challenger's Hope, I did feel like I was on hiatus multiple times throughout this novel. We don't get any perspectives except the main character's, and the nature of space travel as imagined by the author leads to a sort of 400-page bottle episode where virtually nobody enters or leaves the scenes. There are times when outcomes are foregone conclusions, but even still we take sometimes 50 or more pages for them to happen. There are absolutely twists and surprises, but the author's very dry delivery sometimes leaves these feeling flat, or at least too far spread out. Added to this, the action in this book takes place in 3-4 very dispersed instances. While these aren't necessarily telegraphed like some of the more foreshadowed plot points I had issue with, they do feel too few and too far between to warrant a book of this length. Some of the misery at the beginning of the book, for instance, didn't even seem to have any purpose other than to clear space for other horrible things to happen later. That felt a little disrespectful to the characters Feintuch had created, and definitely a little disrespectful of the reader's time and emotional investment in the characters. I believe the author did this as a way to exemplify his belief that life isn't fair, but it's not a pleasant read.
All of the previous aside, I liked this book for the most part. I think Feintuch's writing style is unique, and the slow burn to an intense conclusion is a pattern that works for his style. I would suggest, however, that perhaps some of the less impactful misery we experience throughout this book be omitted in future works because it really didn't add much for me except to hammer home to me something I already knew: bad things sometimes happen to good people. I think it was really difficult to watch Seafort isolate himself for no reason (my opinion, Seafort would certainly disagree), and while we get an explanation for this, it doesn't ring true to me. Perhaps this is because I'm not a military man, which I believe is the author's primary intended audience here. These books feel a lot like the Midshipman Hornblower series if they took place in interstellar space. That being said, Horatio Hornblower is still a much more likeable guy than Nick Seafort, despite their similar rough edges. Additionally, we meet up with Hornblower for a new, almost unrelated story each chapter, whereas we're mired in the same trench with Seafort for the duration of this book. I feel for Seafort because he seems like his attitudes make his own life much more difficult. I can absolutely sympathize with that, and I've been accused of doing the exact same thing. But again, this feels intentional by the author. Feintuch seems to be telling us that while we may not like our heroes, we still need them. Seafort is a hero, full stop. He's not a very likeable one, and I don't think I'd enjoy having a beer with him. This just goes to show that it's possible to like a book without liking the main character much at all. Usually, this is impossible for me. Feintuch has done an admirable job of supporting this character's actions with his motivations in such a realistic way that I end up feeling sorry for Seafort rather than angry with him when he does something I disagree with. In the end I didn't really enjoy spending time with Nick Seafort because he's quite unlikeable with just a dash of sympathy, but the author is definitely onto something here, and I am absolutely willing to see where he's going with it. Here's hoping the plot picks up pace a little bit over the next few books!
Great follow-up to an amazing first novel. Challenger's Hope continues to follow Nicholas Seafort and his knack for getting into seriously crappy situations. Weird aliens, mutiny, weak minded superiors, slow death by starvation, this book has it all! As some of the other reviewers have noted, Nick continues to throw himself a pity party through a lot of the book, however considering the dire situations he ends up in, as well as certain lives that are lost, one has a hard time blaming him for pitying himself as he does.
The one thing that easily becomes frustrating with Nick is his unrelenting resolve to keep up Naval regulations and traditions when it would serve him best to relax on them, especially since he is the senior officer aboard. The only reason why this does not bother me enough to quit reading the series is that I completely understand his reasoning to a certain extent. Unlike some of the other reviewers who view his attitude a bullying (which our culture has become WAY over sensitive to), I see it as him trying to ensure the survival of everyone aboard during a difficult time when anarchy and chaos could easily take over. Plus, growing up with a more than emotionally distant (and dare I say emotionally abusive?) father who stresses nothing but honor, pride, and the sacredness of one's oath, it's hard to fault Nick for sticking so relentlessly to his oath as a Naval Officer.
Great writing, great characters, and great storytelling. The Seafort Saga so far has an A+ in my book.
I read this 3-4 years ago and character and plot haven't left any lasting impression on me.
This series reminds me of Horatio Hornblower in space. Instead of a career as an officer in the British Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, Nicholas Seaforth is an officer in the United Nations Naval Service. While technology has progressed enormously, society has regressed to the 18th century Royal Navy. (David Weber's Honorverse is based on a similar scenario). I guess David Feintuch uses the familiarity of the Nelson era naval milieu (due to the many books about Hornblower, Bolitho, Aubrey et al) to anchor readers in a space fantasy setting.
I find it odd that a space based military force would be modeled on a navy rather than an air force! May be it is perhaps because people don't live aboard aircraft the way they do on ships and space craft. Alternatively may be there is more a literary tradition related to navies (especially the Royal Navy) than air forces.
A miserable protagonist in a miserable dystopian setting. This was marketed as "Hornblower in space," but it's not. Authors like Forester and O'Brian deal with the harsh discipline of the late 18th/early 19th Century British Navy because it's part of the historical setting, but they don't revel in it. They deliberately make their protagonists less severe outliers so that they only have to deal with the unpleasantness when it becomes useful to drive the plot.
Feintuch revels in the harsh discipline, making it one of the main focuses of his series, when he could have just as easily left it out since he's writing science fiction, not historical fiction.
I kept reading because I kept hoping it would turn into "Hornblower in space," but it did not.
"Challenger's Hope" is the second in the excellent Seafort Saga, a space opera series authored by David Feintuch, who sadly died in 2006. The series is said to be based on C.S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower novels. I see also some reflection of Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin novels. The Seafort series focuses on the adventures of a starship captain, Nicholas Seafort. Feintuch does an excellent job of transferring the ambiance of the 18th and 19th century naval life onto the interstellar travel scenario, including the extreme isolation of a vessel traveling in a vast, empty expanse, the necessity of military discipline, and the loneliness of command under such circumstances.
David Feintuch's Seafort Saga is true military sci-fi. It begins with Nicholas Seafort's second year in the UN's space navy as a midshipman and follows on with Challenger's Hope where Commander Nick Seafort has his own starship taken from him by a cowardly admiral in the middle of a battle with the alien fish. When Nick is left with a damaged ship and a crew full of misfits and unwanted passengers, he takes it upon himself to get everyone back home or die trying.
True military, space navy, alien badies and a whole planet in peril, Midshipman's Hope is a great read.
Challenger's Hope, to me, is one of the best novels ever written about the meaning of duty. What is duty? How does one follow their duty, honor their oath, in the face of overwhelming odds? It's an easy thing to speak of in good times, when things are easy. It's when the going gets tough, when you are looking into the face of certain death, that your true character is exposed. It's then when you find out what duty really means.
Now Commander of a military vessel, the Seafort saga continues as our young protagonist sets off on a voyage to find a set of highly aggressive alien lifeforms. For some strange reason included in the convoy of Navy ships are not only crew but also passengers and indeed Nick's heavily pregnant wife. Ordered to investigate and engage if needed, Seafort's ship takes the lead point in the phasing, before waiting for other ships to pass and then taking point again.
Mixed into this, he also has an additional passenger load of transpops; lower class, uneducated children that the government is trying to place in more affluent worlds. Bunked six to a cabin, it is clear from the offset that this is problematic as trying to mix upper class paying passengers with 'trannies' who have never even used indoor plumbing and behave like small savages is fraught with complications. It's worth noting that the word 'trannie' here is used as a derogatory, but has nothing to do with gender or sexuality. This was published a good decade before the phrase was exclusively used as a derogatory in that sense. Rather, in this strictly Conservative cultural set-up, they are the massed unwashed, uncultured bottom feeders in a society that cares little for those without money and influence.
Feintuch isn't recommending this as a model society by any stretch, in fact his characterisations of these youngsters is instrumental in showing that everyone can have a place and purpose throughout. The friction between the upper class passengers and the food throwing savages is both telling and poignant at points. Seafort's character shines in how he treats all his passengers as equal and tries to integrate rather than segregate. The inequal distribution of wealth and the absurd sense of priviledge is also cleverly shown through many interactions between crew and passengers.
The hazing continues and is actively unpleasant with a revenge sub-plot taking place among the Midshipmen. Seafort's naval discipline forces him to turn a blind eye to what is right in front of his face, despite knowing that what is going on is wrong and has gone too far. Thankfully, Feintuch uses this as a form of crucible for his characters and there is the potential for growth and development here rather than abuse simply for the hell of it. It is noticeable though that this isnt a 'listening' Navy. Its a top down service paying little but lip service if that to specialists, whilst the Captain plays God. This is reasoned out but many of the destructive decisions have their roots in this totalitarian system.
Seafort's wracking guilt and self flagellation continues as well, but this annoyed me less here than previously. This is largely because Feintuch puts him through such hell that I really can't blame the boy for his moping. He is put through the absolute ringer from near enough day one, and let's be honest, that can and will break a man. There are some gut wrenching moments here as well as some heart-breaking ones. Feintuch succeeded in putting tears in my eyes more than once, and that doesn't happen all too often. A lot of the book is drama and space opera, but when the action comes it is high speed and dramatic, testing the mettle - and the Navy discipline - of all concerned.
All in all, I enjoyed this far more than its predecessor and found the inclusion of the transpops to allow for further world building opportunities, despite spending most of the time aboard ship. I found the characters have grown and developed well by and large, whilst many new characters had a spark and a verve to them. The tension doesn't fail to the last, making this a mighty fine read indeed.
I find this series compelling - I have been up late into the night for my one last chapter for days now. That said, I have serious doubts. The doubts may be irresolvable, because they may be the result very sophisticated literary devices, of they may be flaws due to bad writing. I think I know - I think it's the latter - but something compels me to give Feintuch the benefit of the doubt. Throughout the two volumes so far, it has been made clear to us by dint of unremitting repetition that our hero - Seafort - is to be constantly tortured by his commitment to the demanding (amd monotone) moral system of the UN Navy and (coincidentally) the religion it sponsors. From the relatively minor matter of the physical discipline of young midshipmen, to the more serious question of loyalty to the point of literal self-sacrifice, we are treated to Seafort's frenzied, often feverish, nagging at scruples to the point where I began to get a headache. But although Seafort seems ordinarily intelligent (and perhaps a military genius), rather than ever question a moral system so desperately devoid of nuance or subtlety, he retreats further and further into the bunker of fundamentalist loyalty, to unquestioning submission to the extent that he himself reaches the point where mere cheerfulness in an underling is sufficient grounds for disciplinary punishment and bothers him almost the limits of his self-control. How is it that a man who is not stupid, never questions 'tradition' as the source of authority for barbaric, violent traditions against boys, barely on the way to becoming young men?
Well, we know in part it is that he personally and particularly was raised in a word devoid of moral nuance or emotional depth. A world dominated by a father who is unavailable and a religious zealot, a dead mother, a friendship which might bring some redemption if the friend only survived and a boyish - verging on puerile - idolisation of the Navy.
If this is enough - then the book is plausibly a profound examination of how a man totally lacking in moral imagination and having absolutely no confidence in his own emotional intuitions, deals with the vicissitudes of an indifferent universe: always judging himself as lacking in his all too human responses to the cruelties of his god. The repetition Feintuch deploys to ram home Seafort's blind loyalty to Naval tradition; to conservatism; to religious orthodoxy is justified because it mirrors his protagonist's compulsive suffering.
In fact, it is only reading it this way that I can continue. Otherwise Nicholas Seafort is a cretin whose idiocy, in matters both intellectual and interpersonal, causes horrifying suffering to those around him. This reading is undermined by Feintuch's constant suggestion that actually, Seafort's submission to conservative tradition is the key to his 'success' whether in saving individuals or the world. But, is that plausible? Not in reality, but in this fictional universe? Is beating boys really justified because the Navy couldn't function without absolute discipline and this is the only way it can possibly be secured?
As to reality, of course, this thick headed conservatism is just the idolisation of atavistic attitudes that arise in response to fear of progress. In the fictional world, Feintuch gets by with only a slightly higher than usual suspension of disbelief because the stories are ripping boys' adventures and thrilling enough that I, at least, am still reading. And this tension is itself of a like order to the moral conundrums of his hero.
Protagonist Seafort's advancement to command level might be a little premature for the series, but author Feintuch, as is typical for this series, still manages to keep him humbled and oppressed. And the means for this is shared equally between the selfish avarice of men and humanity's newfound enemy. The former has only grown worse since book one, while the latter remains inscrutable.
A lot of bad things happen, and it can be frustrating at times to see Seafort not catch a break. Still, I recall this entry into the saga fondly for its ending, which I believe may be the second strongest in the series. Grueling, yes. Tense—for sure. But strong and memorable. You will feel for Seafort in his losses, and travel along with him as he wrestles with situations that would try anyone with a desire to do the right thing.
We get a better view of the space navy in book two, including its flawed command structure and its fighting tactics. Things I also try to flesh out in my series. It brings welcome action for a space adventure. We also get world-building concerning the state of Earth society, which adds to the dimensions of the series as a whole. Its not Star Trek's Utopian future, but not Mad Max's either. These first two books successfully lay a foundation while delivering sufficient action to keep it moving along.
This series is not designed to be a high literature, but rather an introspective fun time, and on that it succeeds.
A better book than the first, but marginally so, and not enough to continue with the series. I continued to appreciate the immersion into starship life and the action elements were a definite highlight. The fight for survival on the abandoned Challenger felt real and the stakes were apparent. But, ultimately, the book's undoing was the same as in the first: Seafort is an uninspiring and, worse, infuriating lead, with authoritarian tendencies, capricious treatment of his often well-meaning officers and crew, and seemingly no ability to evolve as a character.
Did not finish, got about 30% through. I don't like abandoning books, as there's quite a few that got a lot better towards the end. But - given how dismal the first one was one, I was really hoping for something a bit more entertaining. Unfortunately it didn't seem to, and I really couldn't get on with the constant cruelty and harassment going on. After I'd decided to stop I had a look at some plot summaries and can see I made the right decision - the themes of death/rape/punishment just carry on.
Mám rovnakú dilemu ako keď som dočítala prvý diel - neviem sa rozhodnúť, či sa mi kniha páči alebo ani tak veľmi nie. Príbehová línia je výborná, rovnako ako v prvej knihe, ale hlavná postava je v určitých momentoch na hrane sympatie, unavuje neustále opakujúcimi sa myšlienkami o vlastnej vine. Je mi jasné, že určite aj takí ľudia sú, ale keď už čítam knihu, viac by ma potešilo, keby sa ten priestor využil lepšie.
The author decided to write Hornblower in space, and then decided to make it filled with lots of beating of young boys, a protagonist who rages at the drop of a hat, and every bit of bad luck that could ever happen.
I read the first book and 3/4 of this one, and I just quit over a scene where the MC was beating a young boy's butt because he was mad that his (own) directions were unclear.
If you like the 50 Shades book, but man/boy and lots of rage, this is the series for you
Really like the series. I grew up on Kirk who had no problem skirting rules and regulations to get the job fine while Seafort beats himself up about doing the right thing when,it goes against regulations. It is an interesting concept. There is nothing deep or profound in this series but for a quick action sci fi read this series is great.
Sometimes the second book in the series struggles to keep up with the first. This one improves on the first book. The story continues, this time with a truly sci-fi layer added to the plot (can't say more without spoilers). I think the characters grew even more, the plot twists were even bigger and better, and the emotional depth of this story was even better than the first book.
Good writing, enough action but the ending was a bit predictable. I understand the necessity of obedience in the navy but the corporal punishment was too much. In the end luck was more important than discipline. The self doubt and captain mumbling and his upbringing against the desperate situation gave a bleak canvas of humanity.