Cassie Klyne, nineteen years old, lives in the United States in the year 2015—but it’s not our United States, and it’s not our 2015.
Cassie’s world has been at peace since the Great Armistice of 1914. There was no World War II, no Great Depression. Poverty is declining, prosperity is increasing everywhere; social instability is rare. But Cassie knows the world isn’t what it seems. Her parents were part of a group who gradually discovered the awful truth: that for decades—back to the dawn of radio communications—human progress has been interfered with, made more peaceful and benign, by an extraterrestrial entity. That by interfering with our communications, this entity has tweaked history in massive and subtle ways. That humanity is, for purposes unknown, being farmed.
Cassie’s parents were killed for this knowledge, along with most of the other members of their group. Since then, the survivors have scattered and gone into hiding. Cassie and her younger brother Thomas now live with her aunt Nerissa, who shares these dangerous secrets. Others live nearby. For eight years they have attempted to lead unexceptional lives in order to escape detection. The tactic has worked.
Until now. Because the killers are back. And they’re not human.
I've been writing science fiction professionally since my first novel A Hidden Place was published in 1986. My books include Darwinia, Blind Lake, and the Hugo Award-winning Spin. My newest novel is The Affinities (April 2015).
“Consider a fisherman— let's say, a young man who owns a small boat and weaves his own nets. One sunny morning the fisherman sails out from the harbor and casts his net into the ocean. By the end of the day he has accumulated a fine catch of succulent fish. Back ashore, he sets aside a share of the bounty for his evening meal. He guts and cleans the fish and roasts them over an open fire on the beach. Perhaps he calls down his wife from their seaside cottage; perhaps the couple dine alfresco as the sun sets, gazing into each other's eyes; perhaps, nine months later and as an indirect result of their activities on that happy evening, the fisherman's wife bears a healthy child . . . but these plausible sequelae are not pertinent to our story. Now imagine another biological organism, in this case a spider: a common orb- weaver spider, of which there are some three thousand species worldwide and probably one or two in your own garden or backyard. Like the fisherman, the spider weaves a net (of sticky silk) and uses it to capture another species (a moth) as food. Like the fisherman, the spider prepares its meal before it consumes it— it pumps digestive enzymes into the body of the captive insect, sucks out the liquefied matter, and discards the empty husk, much as the fisherman discarded the inedible bones and organs of his fish. Perhaps the spider follows his meal by finding a mate, impregnating her, and offering his body to be devoured; perhaps the female then produces a pendulous, silk- encased sac of fertilized eggs . . . but all this, like the fisherman's amorous evening, is incidental to our story. The fisherman's tale is pleasant, even heartwarming. The spider's tale is viscerally disgusting. But from an objective point of view, nothing distinguishes one from the other but the details. A net is a net, whether it's made of nylon or spider silk. A meal is a meal. The important difference lies in the realm of subjective experience. The fisherman's day is richly felt and easily imagined. The spider's is not. It is extremely unlikely that the simple fused ganglia of an arachnid generate much if anything in the way of psychological complexity. And an anthill— although it is also a functional biological entity, capable of its own equivalent of net- casting and food- gathering—has no centralized brain at all and no perceived experience of any kind. The rich inner experience of the world is central to human life and our appreciation of it. But the preponderance of life on Earth gets along perfectly well without it. In this respect, human beings are a distinct minority. The fishermen of the world are greatly outnumbered by the spiders.”
RCW' works are not meant to read and move on to the next immediately, they are meant to ruminate upon afterwards.
It’s year 2014, the celebration of Armistice Day, 100 years of relative peace. Responsible for this respite is the radiosphere, a layer around the earth above the atmosphere, which in fact is a hypercolony of microscopic alien organisms, which interfered with communication and electronic devices, suppressing the aggressive nature of humans while pursuing their own agenda. Only a handful of people know about the aliens and they are being hunted. Will they manage to find a way to escape and save Earth of them? But is this action even wise?
RCW does not create 'black' and 'white' characters; they are in the grey area, caught in a limbo in which ‘good’ and ‘bad’ are mixed; he makes you ponder the perspective of both sides, sides here being humans vs aliens, as well as the actions and consequences of both parties involved.
In the end, was the outcome the one desired by both main parties? Was it even worthy? Maybe, maybe not; I think only one truly benefited from it anyway. Which one? You’ll have to ponder yourself on this.
Terrific story that blends a plot of alternate history, dystopia, alien invasion, mystery, horror, and thriller, along with a satisfying level of character development.
The world here has been in a position of 100 years of relative peace since the Great War. We learn from the start than an alien consciousness residing in a “hypercolony” cloud in the outer atmosphere has long been at work manipulating human radio communications in a subtle way that favors peaceful outcomes in conflicts. We also quickly learn that a group of people secretly investigating this outrageous plot, the “Correspondence Society”, are under attack by “simulacra”, ordinary- looking people who have been taken over by green alien goo at their core. What moves this past a schlocky horror tale like Jack Finney’s “The Body Snatchers” (made into two campy movies) is its exploration of the capabilities of an intelligence based on a “hive-mind” and of the differences between parasitism and symbiosis.
Our hero Cassie is an engaging 18-year old woman who has with her young brother been in the care of her Aunt Ris since losing her parents seven years before in a set of murders by the sims. When signs of a new attack emerge on the first pages, she courageously sets out to find the paranoid leader of the rebels with his son Leo, both motivated to contribute somehow to fighting the alien menace. Aunt Ris joins up with a young scientist, Ethan, hoping the save the kids from the dangers of a conflict that can’t be won and just might reflect a mutually beneficial relationship between the two species. Ethan has a lot of respect for and a good foundation for some understanding of these beings:
Ethan had written in one of his books that “nature knows without knowing,” and that in his Society papers he had compared the hypercolony to an anthill or a termite nest. The anthill knows how to build itself, how to breed workers, how to fed and cosset its queen. But in fact the anthill knew nothing: what looked like knowledge was only a set of procedural rules, a chemical template constructed by a complex environment. And thus the hypercolony. It appeared to know far more than human beings—it even knew how to manipulate human beings. But it knew these things the way an anthill knows. It exploited language but it didn’t understand language. It excreted words the way a worker bee excretes royal jelly.
The alternate history aspect is a modest side-issue to the pleasures of chasing, hiding, and the David vs. Goliath aspect to the conflict with the alien force. Wilson’s vision of a society without World War 2 and the Cold War has as a correlate a major delay in the advance of technology. Here it seems about at the level of the 50’s, with no nuclear weapons, no space program, and no PCs or cell phones. We get the subtle message from the names of airports, parks, and highways that a different set of presidents and world leaders won out in the altered politics. A nice method to rouse the outrage of the reader and make us wonder about the indirect benefits of our history of war. Why do the aliens care about our peace, and how would things be different if their influence could be removed?
I enjoyed this better than recent reads of biological thrillers that follow in the footsteps of Michael Crichton, including Mira Grant’s “Parasite” and Paul McEuen’s “Spiral”. It generates some of the same creepy wonder that was inspired in me by the planet-sized intelligence featured in Stanislaw Lem’s with “Solaris.” After great enjoyment and amazement over the plotting and characters in Wilson’s “The Chronoliths”, “Spin”, and “Julian Comstock”, I eager to read more from this Canadian author.
This book was provided through the Goodreads Givaway program.
Burning Paradise reads as a sort of cross between Invasion of the Body Snatchers and a Robert Ludlum thriller - shallow plot, constant action, and a high body count. It falls into a sub-genre of scientific horror - in contrast to metaphysical horror, in which eldritch or occult forces threaten to destroy the main characters, here it is the Darwinian, implacable universe, against which human dreams and feelings are meaningless. Relatively early in the book, one character muses: "there was no intelligence in evolution, only the cutting board logic of selective reproduction.... What was is Charles Darwin had said? From so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved...There is grandeur in this view of life. Grandeur or horror. The idea that all the kaleidoscopic strangeness of biological systems could unfold without guidance or motivation was almost too unsettling to accept."[121] In this book, evolution creates a kind of existential horror.
Unfortunately, while it offers plenty of tension, the book has several frustrating shortcomings.
A lot of times, we read science fiction for the escapism aspect or the cool futurist ideas, or even just as a reflection on current society. It's a much more simple exchange for me, where I enjoy science fiction more for the ideas and worldbuilding than I do for a specific message. When a book that has something to say comes along while also filling in a lot of those gaps for me, all the better. Robert Charles Wilson is probably best known for his modern sci-fi classic Spin, but I became a big fan following his alternate history/science fiction end-of-oil society mashup Julian Comstock: A Story of 22nd-Century America from a few years ago. Seeing that Burning Paradise was coming soon, I looked forward to reading it. The book spends a lot of time on communications, but it actually feels more analogous to what we know so far about the upcoming Almost Human television show.
In the world of Burning Paradise, pretty much all the negative stuff that happened in the twentieth century of the United States didn't happen. No World Wars, society is in great shape, and so on. The problem is that the situation is entirely manufactured, as there is some sort of life form in the atmosphere that has been impacting our relationships on earth with subtle changes to our memories, our actions, and our future. When this was discovered, most of those who discovered it were killed, and the rest scattered into hiding. Unfortunately for them, this life form is now on earth in humanoid sim form, and they're out to make sure the secret stays intact.
I couldn't stop thinking about Almost Human while reading it, only because the themes of distrust of simulated android-type beings was kind of jolted into me from the constant commercials for the show. It's not the fairest comparison, though, because the story Wilson tells is one more of worldwide conspiracy and trust than a science fiction police procedural. The book is imperfect, but it works in that regard - it's an interesting, albeit unoriginal, concept told in a very engaging way. It puts all its cool ideas up front and mixes them in well with a plot that's surprisingly action-oriented.
I think my issues with the book, overall, come more from the expectation Wilson brings to his work than anything else. This wouldn't feel so pedestrian coming from an unknown, and while the book is very good, I've come to expect bigger and broader ideas at this point. If anything, this might be a good alternative entry point for Wilson's works than Spin, especially for readers who may be adverse to harder science fiction. Without a super-high concept or significantly unrealistic settings, it's a nice tweak to an existing formula.
Overall, definitely recommended. Will rightfully be heralded as one of the better science fiction books of 2013, and a fine addition to Wilson's body of work so far.
This book has been getting positive reviews in the scifi community, so I talked the book group into reading it. I've read a fair number of Wilson's works and more often than not, enjoyed them.
The basis of Burning Paradise explores the relationship between humanity and the radiosphere, where there exists an organism which is subtly tweaking and altering humanity's behavior. The Correspondence Society is the remnant of a group of people attacked by this 'organism' in 2007 when it became apparent to the organism that too many people were noting its existence. Now, members are being approached once again, but this time by 'parasites', who claim they have the same objectives as the Correspondence Society...but do they?
For myself, this had the feel of a 1950's or 60's science fiction book, where there is the feeling that We Are Not Alone, but only a select group of people have figured this out. We have a mixed group of hero's: four teenagers, a mechanic, two researchers, the head of the Correspondence Society - an eccentric rich man with deep pockets and deeper paranoia.
The first part of the story quickly drew me in, then it bogged down about halfway through as it became a series of info dumps. I thought the info dumps were overdone - I felt I had enough information from the first third of the book to understand what was going on, what the 'hypercolony' had done and was potentially doing. The story picked up in the last third of the book as everyone makes their way to the High Desert in South America for the almost frenetic and somewhat implausible conclusion.
Ultimately not my favorite Robert Charles Wilson book.
The more I read by Robert Charles Wilson, the more he strikes me as the spiritual successor to Clifford D. Simak, albeit tempered with the skepticism of Peter Watts.
Here the alien blood may be as green as The X-Files, but Wilson takes his cliché of ‘aliens among us’, and turns it into an intimate and quietly transcendent tale of family survival against overwhelming odds.
I was quite surprised at how much of a horror novel this is; there are a few genuinely shocking twists and turns, leading up to a sensational finale in the Atacama desert.
My only quibble is that the ending is rather muted, especially seen against what happens before. Still, this confirms Wilson as one of the more interesting and consistent modern genre writers.
It is hard to believe that this is by the author of the fantastic Spin saga. It is full of action yet is monotonous and feels like it was written as a movie. Ideas and information are repeated frequently as if Wilson thought we wouldn't remember from chapter to chapter. The alien threat is interesting but not well thought out. It is able to edit Earth's radio and television broadcasts to keep us peaceful but the "experts" in the story keep insisting that it has no real intelligence. How, then, does that work? I would have preferred to find out more about the hypercolony than spend time with the dull human characters. Basically just a lot of running round.
Imagine you are an orphan, your parents part of a small but worldwide group investigating an alien presence that appears to be manipulating humanity for unknown reasons, and they were murdered in order to keep that knowledge secret.
You may have the means and opportunity to destroy the entity responsible - would you?
Now imagine that other than your parents and their group, the alien presence has been essentially benevolent. It's been subtly adjusting humanity by manipulating our communications to make us more peaceful since the dawn of radiocommunications. An inflammatory word missing from a news report here. The news anchor given a sympathetic mien there. Nothing dramatic in isolation for the majority, but a totality that has resulted in no major wars since The Great War of 1914-1918. The world carries on as usual otherwise.
Would you still attempt to destroy it, knowing the consequences?
This is the big idea at the centre of this novel, and it's certainly a "big idea", but the story itself is centred on it's characters, primarily the main character Cassie, 19 years old and on the run with her younger brother. I very much liked the big idea here: How can an act of revenge take precedence over the fate of the world? Under what extenuating circumstances could that be justified?
I also liked the writing. Robert Charles Wilson writes like a modern thriller writer, there's a sort of no-nonsense sense of urgency, a get to the pointless and general lack of fluff that suits me. I find his books fairly fast and easy reads.
Unfortunately I wasn't overly enamoured of the lead character, and I found her a little too passive for a lot of the time. Odd considering the first couple of chapters revolve around her jumping into action, going on the run when she realises her own life and that of her young brother are in danger, but once she's met up with an ally or two, she just lets go of the reins and lets others decide what's going on, and what happens next. Even more, she doesn't seem to have much of an opinion about any of what's going on, taking everything she's told on faith and not questioning it. So by the end of the book when she suddenly decides to pick up those reins again and the entire fate of the world is resting on her shoulders, it's a little hard to believe.
Alternate history scifi about a subtle alien organism surrounding the earth and nudging the course of history towards peace for its own ends.
Bafflement. Robert Charles Wilson, what happened to you? How did the guy who wrote Spin phone in something so shallow and pointless? This is a fertile concept – humans confronting the idea that prosperity and peace are artificially imposed from without, and having to decide what to do about it. You could really go places with that. This book utterly fails to. It flails around a bit with some stilted interpersonal nonsense, drops a few obvious twists and sets up more plot holes than most Stargate episodes, and then limps to a vague conclusion type thing. There isn't even enough there here for me to get my teeth in for some real complaining. I can't, because there's not enough substance.
Seriously, his back catalog is kind of shaky, but this was recently published and we know what he can do. What the hell happened to RCW?
The best thing about this alternative 2014 Earth is that the American Thanksgiving holiday has been retired! Instead, after Armistice Day, next up is Christmas! Hooray!
The worst thing about the society created in this alternative history is there is no worst thing. Well, as long as people don't care about the mass assassinations of certain nosy scholars and their entire families, children included, back in 2007, which they don't, so everything is good to go. There had been no more wars after WWI. There had been no Great Depression. Science has apparently been somewhat handcuffed compared to our reality (mainframe computers are around, but I don't recall any mention of laptops in the story, for instance). There is no NASA. Of course, the people of Earth don't know what they missed, although there is some wonder at the strange lack of warring despite numerous arguments between governments and other groups in the news.
Some scientists who belonged to the Correspondence Society had reported that there is a kind of bacteria floating in the earth's radio sphere, a hypercolony. They also were studying many subtle and not-so-subtle alterations to transmissions which used the radio sphere. In comparing recorded conversations between two parties, it is obvious that what was sent out is not what was received. Emotion is toned down and verbal threats are eliminated entirely. Something has been manipulating outcomes of disputes between governments and people by changing the content of transmissions. Violence, especially military aggression, is being dialed back by these manipulations. This is a good thing, right?
The survivors of the massacres are not OK with this. For one reason, they missed being killed seven years ago only by accidental happenstance; most of them either ran away or were not where they had announced they would be. Some survivors were children who lost parents. All of them had to go into hiding, aware they might still be hunted. For better or worse, they had also seen that the 'people' who had destroyed almost everybody connected to the Correspondence Society were not normal. For one thing, when injured with deep wounds, these 'people' bled green blood which smelled like rotting vegetation. Surreptitious dissections of the green-goo people prove they were not human. Given the research of the attacked scientists, the only thing that could be concluded was that the murderers were human-like creatures created by the mysterious things in the radio sphere. These green-goo human simulacra did not want to be exposed.
Nineteen-year-old Cassie Klyne has been living with her Aunt Nerrisa since her parents were murdered by the 'sims'. Nearby her aunt's apartment are other child survivors, Leo and Beth, but they are a little wild. She and her 12-year-old brother Thomas have lived a very ordinary, if restricted life, trying to not draw too much attention. It worked - until tonight.....
According to Wikipedia, the first use of the phrase 'little green men' to refer to extraterrestrials (Martians!) was in 1908! But the phrase also was used earlier than that by those myth-haunted folks of England in the 12th century; however, those folks were seeing little critters flitting about in the bushes.
Disappointing novel from RC Wilson (author of the Spin trilogy or of Julian Comstock); the writing style that made the author such a favorite is still there - narrative flow, page turner - but the storyline and characters fell flat; never could suspend disbelief about the main conceit of the novel with the alive radio-sphere and its sims, while the characters lacked any of the subtlety from earlier books and the twists were seen from a long way
the book basically turned into one man and one girl race to save the world (or maybe doom it as the book has some subtlety in its message of "do we need aliens to keep the peace?") which is something that has been done to exhaustion in sf, while the rest of the world simply is not there, just shadows on the wall so to speak, no texture, no sense of place...
Well, not every book from one of your favorite authors can be a favorite. The majority of the novel was just a boring journey to get to a boring ending to fight the baddies. I never really understood the motive of the villains, and I'm too bored with this book to give a synopsis. I feel like it drained every bit of my reading energy to force myself to finish it because I just wanted to be done.
Historien levde ikke opp til plottet, og plottet levde ikke engang opp til min tolkning av plottet slik jeg fikk det beskrevet før jeg leste romanen. Og det er synd, siden min tolkning var ganske kul: Verden har levd i fred siden 1914. Men en liten gruppe forskere har over tiårene avdekket at verdenshistorien ikke utviklet seg slik den skulle. Det skulle vært verdenskriger her, tredvetallet skulle vært preget av en stor depresjon, men det siste århundret har utenomjordiske vesener påvirket geopolitikken og menneskets teknologiske utvikling. Men hvorfor? Og hvorfor holde det skjult, så skjult at de få som kjenner sannheten tas av dage?
Det faktiske plottet i romanen skiller seg fra min tolkning ved at her vet ingen hvordan det «ekte» 1900-tallet skulle sett ut, og den utenomjordiske kraften er en «hive mind» uten et selvbevisst motiv.
Dette er subtile forskjeller, men gjør handlingen mye kjedeligere fra leserens utenfra-perspektiv. I og med at ingen i historien kjenner hvordan verdenshistorien ville sett ut uten innblandingen, blir det opp til meg å spore endringene, og de er både dårlig beskrevet og sjokkerende få sett bort fra den tidligere omtalte mangelen på kriger og konflikter. Vi er ganske langt uti løypa før jeg skjønner at PC-er og internett og mobiltelefoner ikke finnes, noe som tydeligvis er den viljeløse entitetens, hm, vilje. Men folk kjører rundt i biler og bor i hus og byer og samfunn som er til forveksling lik våre. Og det henvises til ting vi kjenner fra vår egen tidslinje, som en navngitt roman fra slutten av førtitallet. Det er noe rart med world-buildingen her. Særlig vil jeg peke på to forhold (velkommen til min TED-talk):
1) Uten kriger i hundre år er det helsikes mange som ikke ville dødd. Menn og kvinner ville funnet andre partnere. Dette ville endret hvem som fikk barn med hvem. Tre–fire generasjoner inn i dette sporet, og verden ville sett helt annerledes ut bare med tanke på hvem som bodde i den. Derfor også hvilke bøker som ble skrevet. Og hvilke bilmerker vi kjører rundt i.
2) Forfatteren undervurderer hvor viktig kriger har vært for menneskets innovasjon, og hvor avhengig innovasjoner har vært av hverandre. Du kan ikke bare plukke borte datamaskinen og internett og si at resten er likt.
På toppen av disse grunnleggende problemene er hovedpersonene kjedelige, det som skulle vært skummelt og ekkelt er ikke skummelt eller ekkelt, antagonistene er for slappe, og eskaleringen i konflikten går så altfor, altfor sakte.
Vom Rückentext her habe ich eigentlich etwas völlig Anderes erwartet. Mehr Gesellschaftskritik, mehr Politik. Aber dass die Handlung sich dann in eine ganz andere Richtung entwickelte, muss nichts Schlechtes sein. So war nämlich der Überraschungseffekt ganz auf meiner Seite.
Wilson arbeitet interessante Ideen in sein Werk ein und stellt dabei auch kritische Fragen. Vor alle jenem nach dem freien Willen und ob ein von aussen aufgezwungener Frieden besser ist, als von uns selbst verursachte Gewalt. Was wollen wir? Wie wichtig ist uns Freiheit? Was ist Freiheit überhaupt?
Der Autor beginnt damit, ein typisches Schwarz-Weiss-Muster zu zeichnen, das er dann mehr und mehr verwischt. Bis auch der Leser nicht mehr sicher weiss, was er nun denken soll. Sehr geschickt eingefädelt. Ich habe jetzt noch keine Antwort auf die Fragen und werde wohl auch keine finden.
Jedoch hätte man noch mehr auf diese Entität eingehen können und wie genau sie auf uns und die menschliche Gesellschaft einwirkt. Mehr Beispiele, mehr Tiefe. Aber da die Figuren im Buch oftmals selbst nicht so genau wissen, womit sie es eigentlich zu tun haben, kann ich das auch so gut akzeptieren.
Der Text lässt sich flüssig lesen, das Buch ist ein schöner Page-Turner, verziert mit einigen Twists und auch die Action kommt nicht zu kurz. Spannende Sci-Fi-Literatur, die eigentlich nach einer Verfilmung schreit.
I had previously read WIlson's Spin and really enjoyed it, so I was looking forward to this until I saw a couple bad reviews...but I went ahead and read it anyway, and I am so glad I did! The context of this story is that the radio-something layer around the earth is actually a parasitic alien being that has infiltrated our media...What a cool idea that is! A parasite has infected the alien, and now there is a little bit of a battle going on, and the communications grid of humanity is at stake.....
What I love about Wilson is he is a story person. He starts with a good premise, and winds out the story in most interesting ways. We really don't know anything much else about the characters except how they fit into the story itself. And I am fine with that! This isn't a character study, its a story about an alien 'invasion'. I burnt through it too...read it obsessively for two days.
I don’t think Burning Paradise is Wilson’s best book, but Wilson’s second best is still exceptionally good science fiction, and I warmly recommend this book. More than any other living author, Wilson is able to conjure breathtaking stories of real people in a vast and strange universe.
To me, the most interesting aspect of Burning Paradise is the totally alien intelligence of the hypercolony, reminiscent of the living ocean in Solaris and the microbot swarm intelligence in The Invincible (both by Stanisław Lem).
A colony of living space debris surrounds the Earth and effects our daily events by manipulating radio transmissions. This debris can also assimilate into a human form, and does so for several nefarious reasons. Saying more would give away to much. This book does stand as a testament as to why the 2013 book awards should be held at the beginning of 2014. I feel this would be a strong contender for best sci-fi. However the voting is almost done now. The good news is that sci-fi fans have a great new book out from Mr. Wilson that they can look forward to reading.
Makes almost no use of the alt-history premise and instead pursues a dull body-snatchers style adventure narrative. Im not sure if this is meant to be pastiche of old school sci-fi, but it could easily have been written in the 60's or 70's. Action driven with predictable twists & cardboard characters who make inexplicable decisions.
I liked this book a lot more than most folks in the reviews seemed to, but at the same time, I saw a lot of the same flaws, especially in regards to the ending. Disappointing, I've loved all the other RCW books I've read, and this one just didn't hold up.
This was a fun science fiction thriller that combined elements of alien invasion, Invasion of the Body Snatchers style paranoia, action/adventure, mystery, all set in an alternate timeline. Set initially in 2014 United States, it is not our world, but a world that has known peace since 1914, when World War I ended the year it was started with the Great Armistice. The opening chapter is almost the eve of Armistice Day in Buffalo, New York and in rural Vermont, this day a major November celebration that has practically eclipsed Thanksgiving, one that marks a hundred years of no war, as in this setting World War I wasn’t even a year, there was no Great Depression, no World War II, no Cold War, none of that. The world is peaceful and prosperous.
Except for Cassie Iverson and her brother younger brother Thomas. One night while her Aunt Ris is out on a date and Cassie happens to be up late, staring out the window, she sees a strange man approaching their Buffalo apartment, a man looking right at her, a man she strongly suspects and then has confirmation is an alien assassin sent to kill her, Thomas, and Aunt Nerissa. All three have connections to the Correspondence Society, a secret organization of scholars and others who happened upon a dangerous truth, that there are aliens disguised as humans among us, aliens who have been manipulating world events since at least 1914, subtly altering radio, television, and phone transmissions to their own ends, creating essentially world peace, but also sending assassins out to those who know.
Most of the Correspondence Society’s best and brightest were all violently assassinated in 2007, with the remnants, many just family members and spouses, in hiding, prepared to move at a moment’s notice. Now, in 2014, it appears that they have been found, with the book charting two great journeys, Cassie and Thomas (who meet up with two other Correspondence Society members in their flight to safety, Leo Beck and Beth Vance and later another person), and then one with Nerissa, who connects with her ex-husband Ethan Everson, who gets alien visitors of his own, all both fleeing the aliens but also setting into motion plans to actually fight back.
Some really good writing, most of the book had fantastic pacing and a lot of action, more than I remember from most of Robert Charles Wilson’s books. It has some twists and surprises, an epic scope, and a climatic ending. A few sections could be pretty violent and a few times maybe going over again the physiology and science of the aliens was done maybe a little too much, as in it was verging on redundant. I also would have liked a little more exploration of this alternate timeline (though we do get some, it wasn’t enough for me) but those are very minor complaints. Solid entertainment.
2014 was an idyllic year. A full century ago, the great nations of the world settled their differences—they signed the Armistice that ended the Great War, created the League of Nations, and spelled an end to all wars on Earth. Sure, there are still occasional border incursions, shouts and sabre-rattling, feints and forays... but ever since 1914, not one of those conflicts has escalated to full-scale combat. A centennial of peace on Earth—surely that's cause enough for worldwide celebration.
Isn't it?
From the very first paragraphs of Robert Charles Wilson's Burning Paradise, it is plain that this peaceful world is not our own. Wilson's Earth does things more slowly, on a much smaller scale—and, arguably, this alternative is a lot happier than the Earth with which we are familiar. A quiet Earth.
Too quiet.
So, why does this particular quiet Earth raise such goosebumps?
Wilson doesn't waste any time letting us know. After all, as Eugene Dowd says later, on p.134, "Life shits on hope."
They walk among us. They are alien invaders who look exactly like us—call them doppelgängers, body snatchers, impostors (it doesn't hurt that I've just watched the reasonably creepy Gary Sinise film with that name)... or, as they're known to just a few in Burning Paradise, the sims.
Most of humanity has no idea that the sims even exist. They act like us; talk like us. They bleed red, just like us... until you cut too deeply. Only the members of the Correspondence Society, a group not quite as boring as its name, know that the sims are organized, coordinated from above—and that, for reasons of their own, they are working very hard to make sure that this planetful of killer apes stays peaceful.
Trust Robert Charles Wilson to turn the combination of two such well-worn tropes into a novel that's compulsively readable—I blazed through this book (heh) in less than 24 hours, which isn't something I can say very often these days. And trust me... the paragraphs above don't spoil anything significant about the story; Burning Paradise is much more than its setup.
Much of that is due to his vivid characters. Eighteen-year-old Cassie Iverson is a strong and engaging protagonist; she and her younger brother Thomas, orphaned siblings being raised by their Aunt Nerissa, are at the heart of Burning Paradise. When the events that took their parents away from them back in 2007 seem to be recurring, they bug out—without Nerissa. Their efforts to flee and attempts to reunite make for a lot of action, some ill-considered choices, and globe-spanning travel, all of which help keep the novel moving briskly.
Many parts of Burning Paradise reminded me strongly of one of his earliest books, another story of parallel timelines featuring teenaged protagonists, and the novel that is more than any other responsible for making me a lifelong Wilson reader: Gypsies (1988). One of the Earths in that novel is similarly serene—attractively so, in that case. Although the reason for that one's nostalgic appeal is totally different, Robert Charles Wilson is still really good at creating this sort of mood, more than twenty years down the line.
About the only thing I didn't like about Burning Paradise—the bit of worldbuilding that worked least well for me—was that he called the network of federal highways "Interstates." While the concept had been around for decades, and I'm sure something like it could exist on this Earth, the first Federal act authorizing highway funds was in 1916—after the Armistice in this world—and without World War Two and the military justifications from former general Dwight D. Eisenhower, I don't think that the same sort of interstate highway system could have been developed or named in parallel with our own. Wilson actually calls them Federal Turnpikes in a couple of places, which I much prefer as a plausible alternative name for this version's system, and credits them to the "Voorhis administration," but I'd have been happier if the term "Interstate" had never appeared in Burning Paradise.
Okay, well, there was one other thing, which is in fact a much more substantive objection, though I only came to that conclusion in retrospect.
Aside from those cavils, though, I have to admit that what Wilson's put together here is a really good story, with an ingenious setting that pushes many of my personal buttons. I wouldn't want to live in the world Wilson paints, peaceful as it is, but it was without a doubt a damn fine place to visit.
I have to wonder how much Stephen King of Entertainment Weekly got paid for the cover quote. The first couple of chapters are good, but this story quickly deteriorates into boring trivia for two thirds of the novel and doesn't pick up pace until the last 90 pages out of 421. Furthermore, a good storyteller doesn't have to resort to devices such as plot bombs to advance the story, nor does a good storyteller contradict himself within the novel.
Let's start with the premise. This much I liked. An alien invasion has occurred millennia ago in the form of micro organisms that dominate the entire upper atmosphere by the trillions, operate collectively in a hive mentality and are subtlety controlling humanity through the adaptation of anything broadcast through the air. It is known as the hypercolony. Nice. Combined with the action scenes in the first two chapters, it's a good start.
Everything fades from there. The vast bulk of the novel is now one of character introspection with little to no plot advancement. In truth, it was boring. Despite literary writers delving into the scifi industry, I still require a modicum of action to maintain my interest.
Toward the end, when the author decided to pick up the pace, it seems as if he didn't know how to finish within his current structure, so in an effort to hurdle the blocks he dropped a number of plot bombs out of thin air to get there. Personally, I prefer the odd foreshadow now and then so when something surprising happens I can recall the hint and think "Okay, well played." not "Where the hell did that come from?"
I have one simple rule when reading science fiction about the proposed science in it. "No matter how improbable, as long as it is not impossible, the science is acceptable. If the science is impossible, then it is not acceptable." Sadly, there are instances where things are impossible.
I could list the impossibles, the contradictions, and the plot bombs, but they would be spoilers. Take my word. They exist.
I was given this novel as a gift as part of my registration to the Ad Astra Conference in Toronto.
Hmmm. Tough to rate. I liked this a lot--of course I did; it's by Robert Charles Wilson, one of the best writers of SF currently working. As usual, the writing itself is a delight; Wilson has a clear style that makes the hard science stuff glide by easily, but he has a flair for vivid metaphor and turns of phrase that make his writing more than merely functional or competent, as is the case with many writers, especially those of hard SF. The book also raises interesting questions about just how bad it would necessarily be if some vast alien intelligence were subtly controlling human development. That's standard SF paranoia stuff, and Wilson uses a couple of the key devices whereby alien intervention in the human can be seen as horrifying. For one thing, we have that old standby, the alien simulacrum of the human, a creature externally indistinguishable from a human being but really part of an alien consciousness--think Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Puppet Masters etc. For another, the alien is imaged in its real form as essentially insectoid: as a hive mind, explicitly and repeatedly likened in the novel to insect colonies. And of course, buglike aliens hit on that visceral, atavistic fear so many of us carry (side note: I was quite impressed by one aspect of the latest Castle season premiere, as it looked like Nathan Fillion REALLY had geezly big spiders crawling on his face, rather than CGI ones). If anything, the novel makes too much of the fright factor here, given its larger thematic point (or one of its larger thematic points, anyway): the alien conssciousness (which is in Wilson's conception the radioshpere granted life, which is a pretty cool idea) has subtly been influencing human cultures away from violence, ever since humans began to develop technology that relied on the radiosphere for communications. The aliens subtly modify messages, or simply prevent them from arriving (I confess Wilson seemed to meto downplay just how noticeable this would be--I was not convinced that more people would not have cottoned on ot there being something weird happening, especially with modifications to transmissions), to defuse potential major conflicts: the novel, therefore, is a sort of alternate history, in that it is set in a world in which World War Two (not to mention other conflicts, though that's the obvious biggie) never happened. The aliens don't do this out of a benevolent concern for humanity but rather out of a desire to preserve/prolong human technological development to facilitate their own interstellar propagation via human technology, and they are quite willing to wipe out individual or groups of humans who learn of their existence and try to interfere with them. The novel leaves open the question of whether the relationship between humans and aliens is in this instance symbiotic (mutually beneficial--good) or parasitic (not mutually beneficial--bad for humanity), though the default human reaction to the aliens is horror and resistance (again, I confess I had a bit of trouble with the absolute absence of any humans who were onside with the aliens; hard not to imagine that part of how they would try to influence humans would be via forming human interest groups acting on their behalf rather than relying solely on simulacra). On the other hand, Wilson takes seriosuly the question of whether humanity maight not have, in many ways, benefited from this alien intervention. After all, no WWII: that's a hard one for us as readers, if not for the characters in the novel (who of course have no knowledge of what didn't happen) to overlook. Are humans better off in charge of our own destiny, or would some subtle alien intervention be good for us? Good question. The fact that the leader of the human resistance is clearly pretty much nuts and doomed to fail further complicates the question of whether Heinlein-style "destroy the monsters!" is an appropriate response. So the book does give us lots to chew on. On the other hand, I was not entirely sold on the twist-revelations of some supposedly human characters as simulacra; one of these, especially, seemed to me to create a plot problem that is not resolved. If this one character (I'm trying to avoid spoilers) has always been a simulacrum (which the explanation for simulacra requires), then the initial complications in the novel puzzle me somewhat. Wilson does attempt to offer some explanation late in the book, but I was not convinced. I was also not entirely sold on th econvenience of a consciousness inhabiting the radioshpere being subject to destruction by some well-placed explosions on a planet-bound facility (shades of the Death Star, or the whole kill the Mother Ship kill them all solution that is just a tad too popular in Hollywood SF). Regardless, as is always the case with Wilson's novels, this is a clever and smart book, peopled with compellingly human (well, exceptions duly noted) characters and offering a healthy balance of thrill ride and philosophical speculations. Recommended.
Of the science fiction of Robert Charles Wilson that I have read, I think of each of his books having begun as a thought-experiment. They take place on an Earth that's generally recognized as more-or-less contemporary to our time, but Wilson plays with an idea that somehow skews the reality: "What if such-and-such happened, and individuals had to live with it?"
In the case of "Burning Paradise," Wilson presents a pretty a pretty unique idea. What if a hive-like organism had taken residence in the upper layers of out atmosphere and was intercepting all our telecommunications, intervening to modify those communications to its own purposes? In the case of this particular organism, its self-interest involves keeping Earth conflict-free, so since the Great War (called World War I in our timeline) it has been manipulating all communications to insure peace. There have been no wars since. But of course, that makes the world different too, not only politically but technologically. Since so many advances in technology come as the result of research done for the military, a completely peaceful world has not advanced at the same rate that our "real" world has.
But let's take the thought-experiment a little further. What if some on earth get a sense that something this is going on? Furthermore, what would happen if conflict arose within the organism itself? With such going on, how would the organism cope with the threat? And what would be the organism's self-interest in keeping the earth at peace anyway? What would it care?
I like these ideas that Wilson presents. I find the ideas he presents unlike those of any other science fiction writer. Then once he plops a character into the plot, we can go for the ride with him/her to see how everything might affect an Everyman/Everywoman caught in its thrall. (It also doesn't hurt that Wilson knows how to craft a pretty good sentence.)
All that being said, however, I can't help coming away from "Burning Paradise" feeling like it fell a little flat. The problem, I believe, lies in the characters. They all seemed pretty thinly drawn. And a basic problem was that I felt there was just too large a cast of them. In the other Wilson novels I've read, there have been only one or two main characters I could invest myself in. In "Burning Paradise" we are presented with at least a half-dozen, and I didn't feel like I was investing myself in any one of them. It becomes clear after a bit why there are so many. One of the plot devices Wilson uses is to alert the reader there may be a betrayer among the bunch--with you left guessing as to who it might be. It's like an Agatha Christie "cozy," where among all the suspects you know one is going to be revealed as the murderer. But no one can remember any of the particular characters used as suspects in a Christie novel, there being no space for her to develop them as real people. And I felt similarly emotionally detached from the characters in "Burning Paradise," as well. Which is too bad. There are some scenes that are meant to draw the reader's emotion--especially at the end--but I just didn't feel engaged enough on that level to feel it.
According to the GoodReads rating system, two stars means "It was okay." And that's what I'd say about "Burning Paradise." I was intrigued by the ideas it raised, but the lack of deep characterization made the plot unwind pretty mechanically. Robert Charles Wilson has certainly done better.
Un roman pas pleinement convainquant, malgré un sujet intéressant.
Le récit est une sorte d'uchronie, puisqu'il se déroule en 2014, sur une Terre qui s'apprête à fêter le centenaire de la paix mondiale. En effet, sur cette Terre-ci, plus de grands conflits armée depuis la fin de la guerre mondiale en 1914. Quelques conflits frontaliers de faible intensité, mais sinon, ça va.
On découvre donc une Terre calme, où toutes les communications passent par la spatiosphère, une sorte de nuage de particules qui réfléchit les ondes et permet de les relayer sur de longues distances. Pas de satellites ou d'exploration spatiale donc, l'Humanité est resté dans son berceau (pour reprendre la maxime de Tsiolkovski [merci Sid Meier])
Or, nous apprenons rapidement que cette spatiosphère est en réalité une créature vivante comparable dans son fonctionnement à une fourmilière. Vivant comme un parasite, elle assure la paix et la prospérité sur Terre dans un dessein inconnu.
Cette créature fait en sorte que l'Humanité reste dans l'ignorance de son existence, quitte pour se faire à tuer les gens qui en savent trop. Après avoir frappé durement une société de scientifiques qui travaillaient sur elle en 2007, elle semble vouloir, à l'occasion du centenaire de la paix mondiale, éliminer les derniers survivants de cette société ainsi que leurs familles.
Voilà pour le pitch.
L'idée d'un parasite extra-terrestre à l'échelle de la planète est séduisante, et même intéressante en termes de ressorts scénaristiques. Tout au long du roman, on se questionne sur l'intérêt de cette "hypercolonie" et sur ses motivations, sur ce qu'elle apporte réellement aux Hommes et sur le bien fondé de sa destruction, ainsi que sur les répercussions de cette destruction.
En effet, une bonne partie de l'intrigue est dans ce questionnement : doit-on détruire ce parasite au risque de compromettre la relative paix mondiale connue jusqu'ici ?
Or, si ce questionnement est intéressant, il est assez mal exploité (je trouve) dans le roman. On y suit en effet un groupe de personnages dont l'objectif, in fine, est de détruire l'hypercolonie, jugée comme une menace depuis qu'elle a pris l'initiative de faire tuer les personnes ayant connaissance de son existence.
Et finalement, même si la question des conséquences de cet acte est abordée de nombreuses fois, les personnages ne doutent pas vraiment de la marche à suivre. Alors même que le récit fournit matière à questionnement !
Autre point noir : le rythme du récit.
Après un début plutôt prenant et enlevé, on tombe assez rapidement dans une narration plan-plan qui fait mollement avancer le schmilblick. Le récit se focalise sur deux groupes de survivants et clairement, pendant une bonne partie du roman, l'un des deux groupes m'indifféraient totalement.
Pour moi, un roman clairement mal équilibré et laissant de côté des questionnement intéressants au détriment d'une histoire beaucoup plus banale et convenue. C'est un peu dommage.