Impressed by "The Amsirs and the Iron Thorn," I wanted more. Disappointingly, "The Falling Torch" offers only a faint hint of Budrys' talent. It begins with a little funeral fifty-four years in the future (you can't very well call it a prologue, but neither is epilogue appropriate), the narrative of which is all over the place, switching between past and present tense at random; it's not a very inviting introduction. As for the story, a race of very-human-like aliens known only as the "Invaders" (which is ridiculous, by the way; surely they call themselves something!) conquered Earth at some point (the history is vague and confusing). For the last 20 years or so, a handful of politicians and their families have been exiled on Alpha Centaurus IV. They're getting up in years, growing complacent with their new off-world careers (the Prime Minister is the top chef at a hotel, etc.). An opportunity to strike back at their alien overlords finally presents itself, but they're not getting any younger and seem completely unmotivated. The plot is ultimately dismissed. However, as the hotel chef exits their clandestine meeting, he passes the president's estranged, introverted son in the hallway and concludes he's just the man for the job (for some reason).
Our "protagonist's" name is Michael Wireman, and he's called almost nothing but in the narrative, which is never a good idea. Try continuously discussing a specific person without ever dropping their last (or first) name and see how natural it doesn't feel.
We spend a lot of time in random characters' heads as they have meaningless, illogical, abstract political thoughts (I'm admittedly politically illiterate). I couldn't understand or sympathize with anyone, and M. W. sickened me by the end. Disapproving of his peers' actions, he willingly surrenders to the "Invaders," agreeing to take their little "classification" test. But mid-way through, he becomes hysterical, ranting nonsensically to the human psychologist. According to the test results, he's unusually mediocre (or something along those lines). The shrink says his only chance is to flee, so M. W. knocks out the doctor, then steps out into the hall and kills a guard. During his escape sequence, he proceeds to break three bones in quick succession, which I found comical. Forced to ditch his getaway vehicle (the doctor's car) because of some vague trouble, he—and this is what disturbs me the most—ropes in a lonely old woman who owns a little tea shop. Initially, she turns him away, but after seeing his wounds and hearing his improvised sob story of how the "Vaders" imprisoned and tortured him (when in fact, ALL of his injuries were self-inflicted!), she offers sanctuary. With complete faith in this total stranger, she risks everything, even abandoning her business/home. In the span of a few pages, M. W. had surrendered, thrown a tantrum over his mediocrity, changed his mind about surrendering, murdered an unsuspecting guard, wrecked a doctor's car, and manipulated an old woman with a life-changing lie, all without remorse...
If this guy is so abnormally average as to have no place in the universe (according to psychology and the aliens' computer, anyway), why does he decide he's the perfect man to lead humanity in rebellion against their friendly but well-armed overlords? Besides, he's clearly unstable. I just don't think the author thought it through.
The Cheirons oppressed by the nameless "Invaders" are also human beings?! (The history is completely lost on me.) The human characters are apparently speaking the "Invaders'" tongue the entire time (think Metal Gear Solid 3: "By the way, your Russian is superb."). But when it's belatedly brought up, all Michael had said was someone's name; that wouldn't sound any different. Imagine someone who doesn't speak a word of English visits England and some native overhears him uttering the name "Franz Hammil," and not a word more, only for the eavesdropper to solemnly conclude: "Speaks our language."
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Uses of "loom" (verb): 2
Uses of "here and there": 1
Uses of "lamely": 1
Uses of "blurted": 1
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Strangely, there were specific typos throughout where threee of the same lettter are present where only two ought to be. I only noticed four examples of this, but it stoood out. And some sentences were questionably structured.
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Typos, etc.:
"If he weren't braced when the pilot fired him out, he would go pinwheeeling across the sky, a broken doll." (p. 42)
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"When he saw the silent figure loom up before him, he started. 'Liberty,' the hulking croaked." (p. 46)
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"'Gentlemen, please,' Potter said nervous vehemence..." (p. 51)
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"But Michael Wireman had been too dazed—too continually surprised to wake up each morning and realize, in a newly refreshed wave of warmth each morning, that he was going to Earth, and was going to fight, and was going to do something—in short, that he was going to begin his life—to stop and think." (pp. 53-54)
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"The shallow bowl of the valley was flat with a filling of the stuff, and it was spilling over the lower rim and pouring down the mountainside as though this entire range, its vegetation grown and nourished in dark secret deeps, had sudden thrust itself above the surface of a sea of soured milk." (p. 56)
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"Supplemented by trained corps of armor and artillery, suppported from the air, and with their opponent's resources localized by the presence of C.S.O. ships in the Solar System, such an army could destroy the Invader garrison on Earth without the C.S.O landing so much as a single man to help them." (p. 59)
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"Newsted's eyes glittered, and Michael Wireman had no trouble understanding that the reverse situation was far more likely to appply." (p. 60)
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"On or two engagements and Hammil would be through, the dissidents scattered once more." (p. 144)
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"He and the boy stood in a moment without time, and consequently all time—all their past, all their lives together—were of a piece, with no part pushed aside by some more recent part, but all towering like a monolith, so that what he and the boy were, at this moment, were something infinitely greater than the one day of an individual grippped by life, which men in ordinary parlance call a man." (p. 150)
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5/10