Feudalistic Agriculture vs. Elite Science and Technology, with Kibitzing from the Cyborgs
The seventh Dumarest novel by E. C. Tubb, Technos (1972), starts with Earl Dumarest on yet another harsh dead-end planet, when a friend who’s been mortally wounded trying to steal money for passage off-world asks him to take his dying message to his brother on Loame. Earl agrees, partly because he’s loyal to his friends and partly because the man said that a man on Loame might have intel on Earth, and Earl’s life consists of traveling through the galaxy from planet to planet following one false lead after another in his never-ending quest for Earth (which almost nobody’s heard of or believes exists, because, after all, who’d name their world “Earth”?)
Like the previous six Dumarest novels, this one is compact, fast-paced, political, pulpy space opera, as Earl learns firsthand about Loame and the world that has enslaved it, Technos. Loame has an agricultural-based feudal society under the sway of the education (science and technology)-based dictatorship of Technos (names can be obvious in Tubb novels). Technos does have a Council, but the Technarch is grabbing more and more power while forcing Councilors to resign.
When Loame refused to help Technos in its war of expansion against another world, Technos released a plague of super weeds (“thorge”) onto the tributary world, overrunning farm after farm and ruining the world’s economy. Technos has also imposed a tribute of thousands and thousands of Loame’s healthy young men and women, whose fate on Technos is unknown. The cover story is that they’re given good educations and useful work, but that smells funny. Are they used as servants or laborers or janissaries or experimental subjects?
As in other Dumarest novels, in addition to Earl (who is not SO much fun to spend time with, being such a serious, practical, laconic, and single-minded guy), Tubb here introduces various point of view characters. The most interesting of these is Mada Grist, a woman on the Council of Technos who longingly remembers the romances of her younger university days, when she took the monotrain with the riffraff to save money while she studied hard to increase her career prospects. When she gazes lovingly on her luscious, youthful body in the mirror, while musing that a lover from her youth must have grandkids now, we sense a disjunction: something unpleasant on Technos. And were she to meet Earl, loose on Technos without the proper paperwork, what might she or he do?
The story’s themes concern some negative examples for human society, one a paternalistic feudal system that produces healthy but sheep-like ignorant people, the other a hyper-educated elite society that has forgotten how to enjoy life, create meaningful art, and be humane. Then there are the Cyclan Cybers advising and manipulating human societies, their ultimate goal being to become brains disencumbered by bodies and belonging to a vast gestalt hive-mind that would run the galaxy much better than imperfect humans ever could. Nowhere do we find an example of a society wherein people can be free and independent and healthy and educated and happy and healthy. One senses that Tubb was not a happy man…
The novel has plenty of action scenes (Earl is extraordinarily fast and efficient in hand-to-hand combat), but they don’t add up somehow. Certain motifs or situations repeat from previous novels, too, like the malevolent Cyclan antagonists, trap-filled mazes, expendable friends, and a touch of intimate female companionship here and there (while Earl never forgets his lost true love, Kalin, ever with him in the form of the red ring she gave him).
There is plenty of sexist writing, too. Tubb regularly describes women from a hetero male gaze in which voluptuous female body parts press seductively against sheer gowns, and women are rarely power players in his science fictional societies.
Another thing occurred to me while reading this short novel: Tubb is not into children! I think he has not written a single scene from a child’s point of view so far in his series, and maybe no child characters at all.
This entry was a diverting but not especially fulfilling or memorable read. The themes don’t punch as much as in earlier books; Earl’s plight isn’t as grueling; the emotional force is less potent than in, say, Kalin.
And yet I will surely continue Earl’s journey in the eighth novel in the series, partly because the books are short and unpredictable (well, except for Earl always ending up alone and ready to go to the next world on his never-ending quest for Earth) and because they always feature some vivid descriptions, like--
“Massed vines, inextricably interwoven, rioted in savage fecundity in an unbroken carpet toward the northern horizon, the sickly color blotched with the scarlet of blooms, the puffing white of fruiting pods, the whole bristling with thorns.”
And some cool bleak lines, like—
“Give a man a uniform … give him a gun and you create a monster.”