Oh dear, I don't think this one is going to be kind.
Since starting to work my way through patches of her oeuvre, I've become accustomed to the various quirks of the author, her pet environmental and feminist concerns, her tendency to recycle various plot elements in novel after novel, and her sometimes aggravating insistence that the plot is secondary to a character lecturing me about how we can live without technology. I've been taking this all in stride because while she seems to want me to find this all provocative and shocking, a good portion of it really isn't, it's ideas and concerns I've seen elsewhere, some of which I actually agree with in one form or another. Generally, it's the presentation that rubs me the wrong way but I've come to see that as one of those things you just have to accept if you're going to make it to the last page of one of these novels. And typically, her imagination with an alien race or a future is inventive enough to at least smooth over the roughest cracks and make it, if not easy going, at least somewhat palatable.
Not here. This time it was actively a chore to get through, to the point where I made myself stay up later so that I could finish it and not spend another day on it more than I had to. I can deal with a lot, but if you're going to disguise a book of essays with a plot, then just do us all a favor and file it in the nonfiction section where I'm less likely to look for it. I had to roll my eyes so much that I'm pretty sure I spent part of the evening staring at the inside of my skull.
What am I talking about? Let's start from the beginning. Unlike most of Tepper's novels, this one is set on present-day Earth but like her other novels set in the fascinating world of today it stars a character who starts out as a complete doormat. Benita, we are told, has suffered from emotional abuse and neglect from her no-good alcoholic husband that she had married long enough ago to have two kids currently in college (the girl, of course, is perfect, the boy takes after his father and is thus useless). Like Dora in "The Family Tree", Benita is somewhat aware that she doesn't have the best marital life (which is also what everyone seems to tell her) but unlike Dora she doesn't have a vaguely supernatural excuse for why she lets someone so over-the-top bad basically just do whatever he wants (still, it's a disservice to people who suffer from actual spousal abuse to wonder why she just doesn't up and leave, as sometimes people aren't capable of doing something that seems perfectly rational from an outside perspective . . . still, in Benita's case the lack of subtlety doesn't exactly make you sympathetic, which I don't think the author was going for). Fortunately for her, while taking a picnic one day she meets two friendly aliens who say they want to change the world and give her a whole bunch of money for helping them get into contact with the leaders of Congress and the President.
Up to about this point the plot seems intriguing, in an Alan Moore's "Miracleman" kind of way, the idea of god-like beings coming from out of nowhere and sort of forcefeeding us the idea of utopia. That might have been interesting, to see the formation and any cracks that might have occurred in the process. Instead what we actually get is the plot packing its suitcases and taking a long vacation as Tepper proceeds to use the book as a clearinghouse for things that tick her off in the world and how she would solve them if she had god-like powers. The aliens are here to get us ready to join the Confederation, but we're not quite neighborly enough yet, so they proceed to explain at great length what we're doing wrong as a society and wave magic wands to fix it. Conflict in the Middle-East? Let's just get rid of Jerusalem! Religious extremists treating women poorly? Let's make all the women ugly when they're near someone who reads his holy book too often. It's the kind of book where what passes for a meager plot stops for an entire chapter so the local cops can lambaste people like the ACLU for not allowing them to stop all the shifty-looking minorities on street corners that just know have drugs (the ACLU for whatever reason get criticized at least twice). Fortunately the helpful aliens give them bracelets that tell them who they have probable cause to stop and search, which everyone is okay with because only criminals would have a problem with such a thing.
And on it goes, but you get the idea. Civil liberties in general seem to be a sticking point and Tepper seems to be tacitly blaming them for society being the way it is (Benita at one point gives a speech about how all this liberty only allowed her husband to treat her like crap and let him get away with it, ignoring that a) she's not the only person in the world, b) she also had the liberty to leave him and c) it's a fictional world) but the book proceeds to somehow get more ridiculous as it goes on, with giant wasp aliens impregnating men but only men who have expressed pro-life or anti-women views. It would help if this had the tone of cheeky fun, or was so over-the-top that it could be construed as a Vonnegut-type satire but it's all played more or less straight and instead comes off as incredibly condescending, especially every time the aliens treat us to pages from their journal, where they describe how they fix more societies and keep dropping adages in their languages that magically have equivalents in ours.
What little nod there is toward conflict occurs when other more predatory aliens sneak into the planet to hook up with evil right-wing leaders to concoct some plans of their own but even that is solved fairly quickly. The main concern regarding the fresco that gives the book its title (they base their entire strategy of altruism on it but because it's been covered in candle soot and nobody cleans it, it may not depict what they think it depicts) is taken care of so quickly that you might as well give everyone in the book magic wands and call it "Harry Potter". I don't expect a lot of surprises in a Tepper novel anymore but there's barely a nod toward anything that seems like tension, just one wish-fulfillment fantasy after another that everyone seems perfectly okay to let aliens take the wheel on.
It's insulting, frankly, let alone condescending. There's never a mention made toward how complex these problems actually are (the Middle-East solutions are especially ham-fisted and arresting every person you know has drugs ignores every reason that people might have to sell them in the first place, or maybe not trust the police), nor any serious consideration as to whether this would even be a good idea or not to have aliens solve all our problems for us (the only objections come from right-wing men or people being influenced by evil aliens and they are typically so bwah-ha-ha evil that even the book doesn't bother with them for more than a chapter or two). It's four hundred pages of hand-waving that we're supposed to find thought-provoking or entertaining but seems to have little more substance than me writing a book about what I would do if I won a billion dollars (hint: "Jurassic Park", without all the things going wrong). Both might be fantasy but at least one has dinosaurs. This one has perfect cuddly aliens but without any semblance of drama or conflict or a reason to care if any of it really turns out okay, you're just wondering if she can really fill up four hundred pages with this. And the answer is yes. Yes, she can. I had problems with Doris Lessing's "Canopus in Argos" which mines similar territory but is richer on so many metaphorical and thematic levels that the only real quibble I had was the execution. In Lessing's series, the job was to keep other aliens from steering us wrong while ensuring we stayed on the right track. Here we're treated like children. I think what sticks in me the worst is how the book takes serious issues, problems that are affecting people in serious and permanent and sometimes fatal ways even now and treats it all as something trifling, failing to acknowledge that in the real world people are spending a good amount of time and money and effort trying to find solutions for that her magical aliens just step in to solve without breaking a sweat. That would be an interesting and frightening story, because it's happening every day. With this novel, the only thing you can say is, if only it was that easy. It does itself and us a disservice, moreso because it seems to expect us to take it seriously, when it's not even sad enough to warrant the effort of laughter.