"Highly recommended," was the verdict of the Science Fiction Review on the first Aldair novel, which brought a young not-quite-man into exploration of a world strikingly similar to ours yet different. The comparison made then with Clifford Simak's City holds true for this new account of Aldair and his world.
For his world and ours are the same...but his lies in the future and seems destined to parallel the history of our own. Where is humanity? What legacy has true mankind left to its manlike descendants that they must relive our past?
For Aldair has been forced into the role of a future Magellan, who must travel down the coasts of unmapped continents, facing monsters, winged wizards and great dangers, to find a knowledge older than the history of his entire race.
Neal Barrett, Jr. was a writer of fantasy, science fiction, mystery/suspense, and historical fiction. His story "Ginny Sweethips' Flying Circus" was nominated for both the 1988 Nebula Award for Best Novelette and the 1989 Hugo Award for Best Novelette.
Perhaps it's my own failing, but I would have expected a clearer indication that this is the second of the series. As it is, you have to parse the back cover text, which seems suboptimal for browsing covers.
The setting appears to be a Doctor Moreau writ large, where species of uplifted animals inhabit a distant future Earth. Humanity is mysteriously absent but has left cryptic artifacts behind that suggest a foul purpose.
But that's not the focus. The inheritors of Earth are locked into repeating the mistakes or behavior of humans: the same repressive empires, the same wars of conquest. Aldair quests for clues to determine if there is a way to break this mold. I'm not sure this is quite convincing as an excuse to drag him around the world and get into varieties of trouble in the sword-and-sorcery capacity, and it fell flat having Aldair try to justify it.
If you want a combination of Animal Farm and Island of Dr. Moreau meets the Roman Empire, the Aldair series by Neal Barrett, Jr. should be your cup of tea. Aldair, Master of Ships picks up the story begun in Aldair of Albion where a barbarian discovers that the various races of the world have been genetically sculpted by something called “Man.” Normally, that would be a spoiler, but since this is the second book in the series and Aldair is trying to find an artifact which will undo Man’s control over the races (some of ursine, some of reptilian, and our hero of porcine origin).
Aldair reminds me of John Carter with his unstated, but visible, “I still live” mentality. He is determined neither to give in to the yoke of determinism (redundancy intended). At one point, Aldair is on a rack and confronted by an ultimate bad guy who insists, “I saw that whatever I did—or anyone did—didn’t matter. I don’t particularly want to be an emperor, as you might have guessed. It seems a lot of bother, to be honest. Still, if I am on this path, why that’s the path I was meant to take, since nothing can be changed in the world.” (p. 143) The bad guy goes on to ask, “Wouldn’t it be the perfect joke of Man, letting his poor creatures think they’ve broken free?” (also p. 143). Aldair stays strong and true to his resolve, but unlike ERB’s John Carter, Aldair depends on more than his own abilities in order to keep up the good fight.
Aldair is also rather like an ERB character in that there is an equivalent of Dejah Thoris or Duare in the Rhemian woman, Carysia. And, of course, there are events within this volume that set up the necessity of a rescue (to which I will allude but not spoil).
Neal Barrett was a witty, manic, and wonderful personality. A lot of that shows in his writing and Aldair, Master of Ships is no exception. He was an incorrigible flirt and I could just see him saying the following as Aldair describes it: “She was a pretty thing, but probably the most aggravating female on earth. Why do we place such great value on creatures whose only aim is to reduce us to witless fools? In truth, I suppose, we get what we deserve. We have placed them at such a low station in life, they have great incentive to drag us down with them. And, usually, we are all too willing to make the trip.” (p. 67) The statement seems strangely sexist and feminist in the same thought.
I loved when the barbarian chastised the city dweller by asking, “How does a warrior know when enemies are near, if there is only the smell of garbage in the air?” (p. 132) I also rather enjoyed the parable of the viper. In claiming that an artifact was too dangerous to mess with, a character remembered, “’I put a viper under a bucket once,’ Rhalgorn announced. ‘It was safe enough until it burrowed out, and got in bed with a cousin of mine. Fortunately, it was a somewhat distant couosin and we were not well acquainted.’” (p. 120) I hadn’t heard that one before and I chuckled as I read it.
Barrett created an intriguing world in the Aldair series and reading the book was like renewing an old acquaintance. It makes me miss him, even though we weren’t close.
A witty if overly precious narrator, stock characters, fast and simple storytelling. Reading this felt like watching a cheesy 1960s fantasy adventure film. Was going to give it two stars but there are some pretty effective scenes in here, plus I do enjoy a writer who knows how to tell a story efficiently with very little fat.