The Scourge of God, by S.M. Stirling

The second book of the series is another 500+ page brick which takes our intrepid heroes only as far as Des Moines in their trek to Nantucket. The action and adventure are still there, and I’ll pick up the third volume when it is out, but at the rate things are moving the last entry of the trilogy will either be a whirlwind or require yet another book (or trilogy!) to wrap things up. Stirling takes an unfortunate turn from science-fiction into fantasy here: the “big bad” is able to send psychic messages and mentally control others. The original appeal of this series was seeing how normal people react to massive change, but this development of magic hurts the premise. I’m definitely losing my enthrallment with this particular universe.

First Sentence:

“We’d be a lot farther east if we’d gone the southern route,” Edain Aylward Mackenzie grumbled quietly.

The Sunrise Lands, by S.M. Stirling

This novel starts a new trilogy, following the children of the leads in Dies the Fire. In the near-future all electricity and combustion has been rendered impossible forcing a devolution to near feudal times. The center of the event that caused this drastic physical change is located in Nantucket, and the younger heroes embark on a journey there starting from Oregon. The plot is a well-worn quest across a savage country, being pursued by minions of an over-arching evil. For an action-filled ~500 pages, the travel is quite slow; the team only gets as far as Idaho in this volume. I didn’t enjoy this as much as the earlier series of books, but getting to see more of the post-Armageddon world keeps me interested.

First Sentence:

Ingolf Vogeler slapped his horse affectionately on the neck; he felt a little better now that the rain had stopped, even though it was the tag end of a chilly October day with a ragged sky the color of damp raw wool rolling in from the west.

A Meeting At Corvallis, by S. M. Stirling

This book ends the trilogy started with Dies the Fire in a fairly satisfying fashion. Ten years into this world without technology, we find that the air is thick with diplomacy and intrigue leading up to an inevitable war. The children of various leaders are alternately kidnapped and rescued, and bloody skirmishes set the stage for a final battle. Stirling finds a nice way to have most of the characters live through the war that doesn’t rely on the usual luck that heroes have in fantasy novels. One amusing passage revealed that Cardinal Ratzinger is the titular head of Catholicism there; of course in our world Ratzinger is now better known as Pope Benedict XVI. Details like this help keep remind the reader that this is alternate history and not a generic fantasy novel.

While not a huge problem, the book could have easily been edited down from its nearly 500 pages to remove some redundant sections. The main culprit was that references to the Society for Creative Anachronism come fast and furious; at times it seems that only SCA members survived the Change! I don’t remember this being so prevalent in the other books, but the plot was more intricate in those as well so it might not have been as obvious. All in all, this book provides a solid ending to the trilogy, wrapping up most loose ends while leaving room for further sequels.

First Sentence:

Norman Arminger—he rarely thought of himself as anything but the Lord Protector these days—stared at the great map that showed his domains, and those of his stubbornly independent neighbors; it covered the whole of the former Oregon and Washington, with bits of the old states of Idaho and northern California thrown in.

The Protector’s War, by S. M. Stirling

The middle entry of a trilogy is often the weakest. The first book was enjoyable, but the third (which I haven’t yet read) would have to be pretty awful to not make this idiom true. Only two things of any import happen here, which is unfortunate for a novel pushing 600 pages. Much of the book is told in flashback, with the main characters in a bar telling each other what recently happened. The framing device isn’t awful, but as it wasn’t used at all in the first book and only in the middle of this one it sticks painfully out. Even the title, The Protector’s War, was odd, as the war is only foreshadowed and will clearly be the focus of the next novel, A Meeting at Corvallis.

The most jarring thing, though, was that instead of the Oregon setting of the first book, this one opens in a Britain that has survived the Change that destroyed all modern technology fairly well, but it seems the now-King Charles is married to a Icelander with little-to-no explanation as to how or why. I suspected I missed a book somewhere as the events that are hinted at seem fairly well thought out, but some research on the net shows this isn’t so. I did find an appendix from an upcoming series set in this same world that tells not only the back story but ranges into the future as well. At least an abridged version of this tale would have been welcome—especially as it looks to be more interesting than the rambling story that was told here!

First Sentence:

I’ve been here before, John Hordle suddenly realized, his thumb moving over the leather that covered the grip of his bow.

Dies the Fire, by S. M. Stirling

This is a story of what happens to our contemporary world when suddenly all electricity and explosives stop working. No guns, no engines, no radio, no freezers, no flashlights, nothing. Cars and elevators crash, airliners fall out of the sky, ships are adrift at sea. Armageddon and chaos rule the day, and without modern transportation the world immediately gets much much larger. The action here is all in the Pacific Northwest, an area with enough farmland and natural resources to support a medieval lifestyle yet a small enough population density to prevent overworking the land. While a fairly ridiculous concept, it works.

Two main groups of protagonists are followed; one led by an ex-special-forces woodsman and the other by a socialist environmentalist. While most of the book is fairly predictable (both heroes manage to surround themselves with people possessing just the right skills and thrive) there were a couple of unique bits. One interesting choice the author made was not to describe at all what happened in the bigger cities and metropolitan areas. Instead of some graphic depiction of Seattle or Los Angeles ripping itself to shreds without a food distribution system, medical care, or an armed police force, vague hints from passing survivors leave the horror entirely to the reader’s imagination. Another fun fact is that the cosmic event that causes the Change is the flip side of yet another trilogy by Stirling (which I read before starting this blog). In that saga the entire island of Nantucket is transported back in time to the Stone Age. In Dies the Fire, we hear news stories about Nantucket vanishing just before everything stops working. Being able to see both sides of the mysterious event was interesting.

Considering one of the main characters is a Wiccan, religion is amazingly not a major faction in this epic. With what many would consider the end-of-the-world occurring in the first chapter, I was (pleasantly) surprised to not encounter a strong religious theme. The witchcraft stuff is heavily stressed, but not really any other belief system. There is a Catholic priest we meet for a while, but his function is mostly to froth at the mouth against pagan beliefs, making the coven seem less ridiculous. As I generally find theology very pretentious and haughty, I didn’t mind at all—if I wanted a doctrine-heavy look at Armageddon, I’d have read more than the first book in the Left Behind series.

First Sentence:

Michael Havel pulled his battered four-by-four into the employees’ parking lot, locked up and swung his just-in-case gear out of the back, the strap of the pack over one shoulder and the gun case on the other.

Conquistador, by S. M. Stirling

In 1946, a malfunctioning short wave radio opens a gate into an alternate world—one where Europe never discovered North America. The owner of the short wave doesn’t share the discovery with the rest of the world, but instead invites a select group of people to cross over and colonize this unspoiled countryside. Fast-forward to 2009 and during a smuggling bust a photo of authentic Aztec priests wearing Greatful Dead shirts and a live condor from a completely unknown gene pool is recovered, starting a chain of events that threatens the secret of the gate. And all this happens in the first 20 pages!

This is a l-o-n-g book, nearly 600 pages. While I enjoyed it quite a bit, it could have easily been half the length and still entertaining. A lot of exposition here, and much of it superfluous. Take this sentence, describing a character that is incidental to the plot: “Lord Seven Flower himself was in the traditional costume: silver armbands and greaves, a loincloth intricately folded so that a long flap of snowy cotton edged with embroidery hung to his knees before and behind, gold chains and a gold pectoral across his chest, and a headdress made in the form of a snarling silver jaguar’s head with golden spots, eyes of turquoise and ivory teeth, sporting a huge torrent of colored plumes from its rear in gaudy crimson and green and mauve.” While I really like the imagery, passages like this tend to make me think of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.

I would have liked to see a bit more explanations about the gate, but the author simply treats it like the MacGuffin it is. The ending is a bit predictable, and surprisingly doesn't directly set up for a sequel. The characters and world are interesting enough, though, so I’d like to see Stirling will revisit them someday.

First Sentence:

I joined the Department of Fish and Game because I couldn’t be a soldier anymore and I hate cities, Tom Christiansen thought, the Berretta cold and unforgiving in his hands.