8 Frelling Great Books for Fans of Farscape

The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog

It’s been 20 cycles since John Crichton fell through a wormhole and into an escape attempt by the sentient spaceship Moya, her complement of ex-prisoners, and one very cross Peacekeeper named Aeryn Sun. (Anyone else feel frellin’ old?) Over four seasons and a cliff-hanger resolving miniseries, Farscape followed John, Aeryn, and a range of deeply alien companions as they flee from an “insane military commander” and other agents of an oppressive government pursuing the knowledge of wormholes locked up in Crichton’s head.

Though technically an Australian-American co-production, the show was filmed in New South Wales and features an overwhelmingly Australian cast and crew—as a result, its sensibilities are slightly askew to those of an American audience less accustomed to having a vein of dark comedy shot through their sci-fi. Aussies are also accustomed to doing more with less in their TV, hence Farscape’s genuinely impressive look and feel, even given a “hefty for ’90s cable but relatively modest for TV” budget.

Also: Muppets. Well, OK, not technically Muppets—but the Jim Henson Company, under Brian Henson, served as a co-producer, and was charged with creating all the impressive lien makeup and prosthetics, including fully puppeteer-operated main characters Pilot and Rygel. If you’ve seen The Dark Crystal (and, if you haven’t, what are you doing?) you know exactly how much the Henson team can do when given free reign over a world of sci-fi and fantasy. In a way, Farscape is even more impressive: The Dark Crystal is set in a world managed entirely by puppeteers, while the creatures of Farscape need to interact believabl—and dramatically—with human characters. The easy joke about the Star Trek series is that every human in the galaxy seemed to be interchangeable save for their T-zones; especially at the time, it was incredibly rare to meet aliens who weren’t roughly human-actor shaped. The show still impresses in this regard too—the puppets have a solidity and presence that’s sometimes lost with modern CGI.

The series is also one-stop shopping for some of our favorite sci-fi tropes: sentient spaceships, space pirates, wormholes, time travel, etc.—but it ultimately works because of the weird, fully realized, and often morally ambiguous characters who populate the show’s cast. With that in mind, here are eight books that will speak to fans of Farscape.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers
One of Farscape‘s most impressive aspects is the affection it engenders for Moya, the sentient bio-mechanical “Leviathan” ship who is able to communicate only indirectly with her crew, but who still comes to feel like a fully fleshed-out character in her own right. In Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series, the ship itself isn’t sentient, precisely, but the AI that runs just about everything onboard it is. Lovelace, or Lovey as the crew affectionately calls her, was based on a standard, out-of-the-box AI program, but develops a distinct personality and eventually falls in love with the engineer who installed her (not a euphemism). The series features an appropriately rag-tag crew of distinct and diverse individuals, and is at least as sex-positive as Farscape while doing the show one better in terms of diversity and queer representation. Plus: wormholes!

(Though we chose the series for this list independently, Becky Chambers spoke to us shortly after the first book came out about Farscape as an inspiration. You can read her thoughts on the show here.)

Embers of War, by Gareth L. Powell
There’s a slightly ineffable element to Farscape’s success, and that’s to do with it’s wildly shifting tones. It can be dark, and weird, and funny—sometimes all at once—without ever losing the thread of deep humanity at its heart (defining “humanity” very broadly, since most of the crew is not strictly human). Gareth L. Powell manages a similar trick with his much-lauded, ongoing space opera series that began with Embers of War. In the aftermath of a brutal war and the horrific genocide that ended it, the sentient ship Trouble Dog and her captain, Sal Konstanz, are desperate to put the past behind them and make amends (to the extent that amends can be made). It all sounds very heavy, and it is, but Powell finds the heart in each member of Trouble Dog’s crew of loners and outcasts, not to mention the ship herself. He also manages to adeptly inject moments of humor into the proceedings—not surprising, given that this a book from the same writer who made a hero out of a fowl-mouthed, cigar-chomping monkey in the brilliant Ack-Ack Macaque trilogy.

Dark Run, by Mike Brooks
Captain Ichabod Drift swore off his pirate past in favor of life as a freelance cargo hauler on his ship, the Keiko. Given just that much background, you can probably guess how well it goes. Soon enough, he’s blackmailed by a former government minister into running a mysterious package to Earth as part of a complicated revenge scheme, during which Drift and his crew plot to turn the tables and get their own brand of payback. Like Farscape‘s, the universe in which Drift’s crew plys their trade is a complicated, dirty place, with a thriving criminal underworld. Similarly, the crew is diverse both in makeup and motives, as each member has their own varying agendas and, in many cases, adventures to pursue. Granted, it’s a different sort of diversity: in this all-human universe, the Keiko’s crew includes a Chinese brother/sister team and a Māori fighter among its criminals, hackers, and con-artists. There are three books in this series so far, and considering they only get better as they go, we sincerely hope there will be more.

Revenger, by Alastair Reynolds
By interfacing with the skulls of a long-dead species, Adrana and Fura Ness are useful to the legendary Captain Rackamore as Bone Readers. Joining his crew, they employ their telepathic gifts to hunt for treasure—until Adrana is captured by the most feared pirate in the system. What results (in this book and particularly in its sequel, Shadow Captain) are the exploits of a crew of underdogs thrown together on an outlaw ship under the command of the Ness sisters, hunted by just about everyone through no real fault of anyone on board. As on Farscape, each member of the crew has their own motivations, and trust is hard-won and easily lost. Like Moya’s crew, they too are outlaws by necessity rather than choice—living pirate lives only because they’ve got no real shot at living any other way.

Consider Phlebas, by Iain M. Banks
This is the kick-off to Banks’ long-running series of generally standalone works set in the Culture, a sort of techno-utopia whose members run into conflict when engaging with less technologically and morally developed civilizations. In Consider Phlebas, an agent of the Idiran Empire, at war with the Culture, is tasked with recovering a stray Mind—one of the Culture’s hyperintelligent sentient machines that run their massive ships. Along the way, he’s cast adrift and picked up by a pirate vessel. Making a place for himself among the crew, he goes on a few raids before ultimately rising to become master of the ship in a very pirate-like fashion. The morally ambiguous tone and population of intelligent starships makes the book a good fit for fans of the space opera elements of Farscape, but fair warning: while the show dabbles in darkness and scenes of torture, Banks goes considerably further over-the-top—which you’ll realize upon reading the first chapter, in which the protagonist is threatening with drowning in, er, let’s just say “sewage.”

Binti, by Nnedi Okorafor
In tone they’re rather different, but Nnedi Okorafor’s trilogy shares aspect in particular with Farscape: Third Fish, the living ship that transports the title character to the prestigious Oozma University. The series begins when Binti chooses to leave her home on Earth, against the will of her family, to go to school—the first human to do so. En route, the ship is attacked by the jellyfish-like Meduse, who are in a longstanding conflict with the Khoush, an ethnic group whose home neighbors that of Binti’s own Himba. As the young woman is able to communicate with the Meduse, she also makes contact with the ship. As with Moya in Farscape, Third Fish eventually has a child… one which growns up a bit better than Moya’s own Talyn.

The Empress of Forever, by Max Gladstone
Out this summer, the first standalone novel from Hugo-nominated author Max Gladstone (The Craft Sequence) is a sprawling space opera that seems to have Farscape baked right into its DNA (alongside a gab bag of anime series, comic books, and Japanese role playing games). The plot is a great parallel—American tech guru Vivian Liao is mysteriously thrown across space and time and into a distant galaxy, where she must immediately begin fleeing in earnest from powerful forces pursuing her for the galaxies-shattering knowledge buried deep within her head. Along the way, she assembles a strange crew of rarely human allies, anti-heroes, and frenemies—an enraged, nigh-unkillable warlord; a cloud of sentient, shape-shifting grey goo; a disillusioned monk forced to leave behind the others of his order and the stained glass starships they pilot through space—to either aide her mission or use her to further their own ends. The book is an awe-inspiring mashup of complex, big-idea SF plotting (a galactic travelogue that skips from planet to planet to space station, each location bursting with enough worldbuilding to power an entire book) and careful character work (each member of Viv’s crew—not to mention Viv herself—feels real enough to touch). Reading it is not unlike mainlining all four seasons of Farscape in one go. Highly recommended, even if the experience leaves you a little woozy.

Farscape Omnibus Volume 1, by Rockne S. O’Bannon, Keith R. A. DeCandido, Tommy Patterson, Will Sliney, and Caleb Cleveland
In looking for novels and stories in the style of Farscape, you could do far worse than to read something with Farscape on the cover. So last, but not least, is the Farscape comic series, co-written by series creator Rockne S. O’Bannon. The books pick up mere moments after the conclusion of The Peacekeeper Wars miniseries, with John and Aeryn trying to adjust to parenthood even as Rygel discovers that he’s the target of dangerous bounty hunters. The first arc sends Moya and the gang to Hyneria and into the middle of a civil war which they hope will see Rygel finally restored to the throne. The comics builds on the show’s mythology by digging into the backgrounds of D’Argo and Scorpius, in particular, ultimately concluding with an extended war for the uncharted territories. It’s an official continuation, all of it’s canon, and it just recently came back into print with a giant, 688-page omnibus collection that covers about half of the run.

What Farscape readalikes do you recommend?

The post 8 Frelling Great Books for Fans of Farscape appeared first on The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/sci-fi-fantasy/8-frelling-great-books-for-fans-of-farscape/

The Strange and Familiar Nominees for the 2019 Hugo Awards

The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog

The nominees for the 2019 Hugo Awards were announced this morning via streaming webcast straight from Dublin, Ireland, home of the 77th annual World Science Fiction Convention, and the lucky honorees represent the daring, strange—and familiar—flavors of sci-fi and fantasy that defined last year.

All six authors vying for Best Novel this year are prior Hugo nominees, and three of them—Mary Robinette Kowal (The Calculating Stars), Rebecca Roanhorse (Trail of Lightning), and Catherynne Valente (Space Opera)—even won, though none of those trophies was for a novel. The three others facing off in the category—Naomi Novik (Spinning Silver), Becky Chambers (Record of a Spaceborn Few), and Yoon Ha Lee (Revenant Gun)—are celebrating nominations for consecutive novels, though not all were published in consecutive years. (Also worth noting: Roanhorse, Novik, and Kowal’s novels are contenders at this year’s Nebulas.)

There are fresher faces elsewhere on the ballot, including P. Djèlí Clark, nominated two times this year, for Best Novella for The Black God’s Drums and Best Short Story for “The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington.” Alix E. Harrow also celebrates her first nomination for her short story “A Witch’s Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies,” while the Best Novelette category features first-timers Simone Heller and Zen Cho—who, we’re pleased to say, picked up her nomination for “If at First You Don’t Succeed, Try, Try Again,” a lovely story of love, perseverance, and dragons that was published right here on The B&N Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog.

As ever, an established career and a dedicated fan following have their perks: in its third year, the Best Series Hugo sees its first repeat nominee, for Seanan McGuire’s October Daye urban fantasy series, while Aliette de Bodard, Yoon Ha Lee, and Becky Chambers are nominated for series whose recent individual works are also recognized in other categories this year.

With additional nominations for familiar names like Jo Walton and Ursula K. Le Guin (who earned her second posthumous nomination), what is perhaps most notable about this year’s slate—aside from the uniform excellence of the works recognized—is the how very traditionally Hugo they are. After a number of years during which the most storied honor in genre became mired in political gamesmanship, controversy, and no small amount of anger, this year’s ballot seems to do nothing more than speak to the year in SFF that was 2018, as it was seen by the WorldCon fandom.

And that’s the way it should be.

The Hugo Award winners will be announced in August at Dublin 2019. The complete list of nominees follows.

Best Novel

The Calculating Stars, by Mary Robinette Kowal (Tor)
The first of a pair of prequel novels to Kowal’s award-winning novelette The Lady Astronaut of MarsThe Calculating Stars (also a Nebula nominee) delves into the alternate history that resulted in humanity establishing a colony on Mars in the middle of the 20th century. In the spring of 1952, a huge meteor hits Chesapeake Bay, taking out most of the Eastern United States. Mathematician and former military pilot Elma York and her scientist husband Nate are there to witness the destruction, and Elma knows immediately that this is an ELE—an extinction-level event—and that humanity must look to the stars if it has any hope of survival. Although her experience as a pilot and her math skills earn Elma a place in the International Aerospace Coalition as a calculator, she begins to wonder why women can’t be astronauts as well—and she’s more than willing to confront racism, sexism, and more personal enemies on her quest to become the first lady astronaut. This is one of those books that seems to have come along at just the right moment, bringing together fascinating, inspiring characters; compelling, plausible worldbuilding; and a message that resonates—especially today. Read our review.

Record of a Spaceborn Few, by Becky Chambers (Harper Voyager)
This standalone followup to A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and A Closed and Common Orbit explores what happens to those passengers on the generation ships humanity used to escape Earth who don’t know how to leave their vessels behind. The Exodans are the largest concentration of humanity anywhere in the universe; they are the descendants of those who left a poisoned Earth two centuries before on a flotilla of hope. The novel explores what happens to them after the ship reaches its destination: both to those who venture forth into new lives, and those who stay behind. Chambers’ books are celebrated for their warmth and diverse characters, but her worldbuilding is also stellar; it’s a delight to spend more time in this universe. Read our interview with the author.

Revenant Gun, by Yoon Ha Lee (Solaris)
Lee brings the Hugo and Nebula award-nominated Machineries of Empire trilogy to its conclusion in mathematical style with a brainy, fast-paced final entry. Shuos Jedao wakes up in the body of a much older man rather than the 17-year old one his memories led him to expect. He’s shocked to discover he’s now a general, commanded by Hexarch Nirai Kujen—a tyrant hiding behind an easy smile—to conquer the haxarchate using an army compelled to obey his every command. Worse—he quickly discovers that the soldiers despise him for a massacre he doesn’t remember committing. Worst—someone is hunting him, seeking to bring him to justice for his crimes. The first two books in the series stretched imaginations and taxed brains, and this one is no different—and no less worth the effort it takes to puzzle it out. Read our review.

Space Opera, by Catherynne M. Valente (Saga Press)
Valente spins a truly nutty disco ball of a sci-fi story that begins with the Sentience Wars that nearly eradicate all intelligent life in the universe; when they end, the scattered survivors regroup and begin a new tradition designed to avoid future apocalypses: the Metagalactic Grand Prix, a universe-wide competition of song and dance open only to recognized sentient species. When any new species emerges onto the universal stage to declare itself sentient—like, say, humanity—they must send contestants to the Grand Prix to prove their worth and quite literally sing for their lives (though alien singing doesn’t always sound like a Top 40 hit). Place anything but last and the upstart civilization is a part of the club. If they come in last, they’re quietly exterminated, in the name of preserving universal peace. (Tough choices, people…and not people.) When Earth is unexpectedly pulled into the next contest, the task of saving humanity falls to a has-been rock star named Decibel Jones, who must grapple with the demons of his past while venturing reluctantly onto the largest stage of all-time. It’s a a second chance to be a glitter-bombed rock star. or die trying—along with everyone else. Inspired by her dual love for Eurovision and Douglas Adams, this one is pure Catherynne Valente, from the first page to the last. Read our review.

Spinning Silver, by Naomi Novik (Del Rey)
Drawing on Eastern European folklore and the classic fairy tale of Rumplestiltskin, Novik tells the story of Miryem, daughter in a family of Jewish moneylenders led by her incompetent father. With their fortunes on the wane due to his poor business sense, Miryem must step in and turn the family business around. Inspired by a mixture of desperation and genius, she responds by spinning debts into gold—gold that attracts the attention of the Staryk, emotionless fairies who bring winter with them. The Staryk give Miryem Fairy Silver and demand she transform it, too. Miryem does so by turning the beautiful metal into jewelry that attracts the attention of the rich and powerful—but her success brings her more Staryk attention, and thus more problems. Novik’s first standalone novel to come along in the wake of the Nebula Award-winning Uprooted had a tough act to follow, but Spinning Silver—expanded from a short story included in anthology The Starlit Wood—is every bit as enchanting. Read our review.

Trail of Lightning, by Rebecca Roanhorse (Saga Press)
Roanhorse’s buzzy debut is set in a post-apocalyptic world comparable to Mad Max: Fury Road in intensity, with worldbuilding drawn from the author’s Indigenous American heritage. In an America devastated by rising sea levels, the Navajo Nation has been reborn as Dinétah—and with it have come the old gods and monsters of Native American legend. Maggie Hoskie is a monster-hunter, gifted with the power to fight and defeat these beasts. Hired by a small town to locate a missing girl, she teams up with a misfit medicine man named Kai Arviso, and the two dive into a mystery that takes them deeper into the dark side of Dinétah than they could have imagined—a world of tricksters, dark magic, and creatures more frightening than any story. Trail of Lightning is an audacious take on the conventions of both urban fantasy and the post-apocalyptic novel, binding them together in a way that could only and ever happen in Dinétah. Read our review.

Best Novella

Artificial Condition, by Martha Wells (Tor.com Publishing)

Beneath the Sugar Sky, by Seanan McGuire (Tor.com Publishing)

Binti: The Night Masquerade, by Nnedi Okorafor (Tor.com Publishing)

The Black God’s Drums, by P. Djèlí Clark (Tor.com Publishing)

Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach, by Kelly Robson (Tor.com Publishing)

The Tea Master and the Detective, by Aliette de Bodard (Subterranean Press / JABberwocky Literary Agency)

Best Novelette

If at First You Don’t Succeed, Try, Try Again,” by Zen Cho (B&N Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog)

“The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections,” by Tina Connolly (Tor.com)

“Nine Last Days on Planet Earth,” by Daryl Gregory (Tor.com)

The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander (Tor.com Publishing)

“The Thing About Ghost Stories,” by Naomi Kritzer (Uncanny Magazine #25)

“When We Were Starless,” by Simone Heller (Clarkesworld #145, October 2018)

Best Short Story

“The Court Magician,” by Sarah Pinsker (Lightspeed, January 2018)

“The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society,” by T. Kingfisher (Uncanny Magazine #25)

“The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington,” by P. Djèlí Clark (Fireside Magazine, February 2018)

“STET,” by Sarah Gailey (Fireside Magazine, October 2018)

“The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters, and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat,” by Brooke Bolander (Uncanny Magazine #23)

“A Witch’s Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies,” by Alix E. Harrow (Apex Magazine, February 2018)

Best Series

The Centenal Cycle, by Malka Older (Tor.com Publishing)

The Laundry Files, by Charles Stross (Tor.com Publishing)

Machineries of Empire, by Yoon Ha Lee (Solaris)

The October Daye Series, by Seanan McGuire (DAW)

The Universe of Xuya, by Aliette de Bodard (Subterranean Press)

Wayfarers, by Becky Chambers (Harper Voyager)

Best Related Work

Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Astounding: John W. Campbell, Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, L. Ron Hubbard, and the Golden Age of Science Fiction, by Alec Nevala-Lee (Dey Street Books)

The Hobbit Duology, written and edited by Lindsay Ellis and Angelina Meehan (YouTube)

An Informal History of the Hugos: A Personal Look Back at the Hugo Awards, 1953-2000, by Jo Walton (Tor)

The Mexicanx Initiative Experience at Worldcon 76 (Julia Rios, Libia Brenda, Pablo Defendini, John Picacio)

Ursula K. Le Guin: Conversations on Writing, by Ursula K. Le Guin with David Naimon (Tin House Books)

Best Graphic Story

Abbott, written by Saladin Ahmed, art by Sami Kivelä, colours by Jason Wordie, letters by Jim Campbell (BOOM! Studios)

Black Panther: Long Live the King, written by Nnedi Okorafor and Aaron Covington, art by André Lima Araújo, Mario Del Pennino and Tana Ford (Marvel)

Monstress, Vol. 3: Haven, written by Marjorie Liu, art by Sana Takeda (Image Comics)

On a Sunbeam, by Tillie Walden (First Second)

Paper Girls, Vol. 4, written by Brian K. Vaughan, art by Cliff Chiang, colors by Matt Wilson, letters by Jared K. Fletcher (Image Comics)

Saga, Vol. 9, written by Brian K. Vaughan, art by Fiona Staples (Image Comics)

Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form

Annihilation, directed and written for the screen by Alex Garland, based on the novel by Jeff VanderMeer (Paramount)

Avengers: Infinity War, screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, directed by Anthony Russo and Joe Russo (Marvel Studios)

Black Panther, written by Ryan Coogler and Joe Robert Cole, directed by Ryan Coogler (Marvel Studios)

A Quiet Place, screenplay by Scott Beck, John Krasinski and Bryan Woods, directed by John Krasinski (Platinum Dunes/Sunday Night)

Sorry to Bother You, written and directed by Boots Riley (Annapurna Pictures)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, screenplay by Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman, directed by Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothman (Sony)

Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form

The Expanse: “Abaddon’s Gate,” written by Daniel Abraham, Ty Franck and Naren Shankar, directed by Simon Cellan Jones

Doctor Who: “Demons of the Punjab,” written by Vinay Patel, directed by Jamie Childs

Dirty Computer, written by Janelle Monáe, directed by Andrew Donoho and Chuck Lightning

The Good Place: “Janet(s),” written by Josh Siegal & Dylan Morgan, directed by Morgan Sackett

The Good Place: “Jeremy Bearimy,” written by Megan Amram, directed by Trent O’Donnell

Doctor Who: “Rosa,” written by Malorie Blackman and Chris Chibnall, directed by Mark Tonderai

Best Professional Editor, Short Form

Neil Clarke

Gardner Dozois

Lee Harris

Julia Rios

Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas

Catherine Tobler 

Best Professional Editor, Long Form

Sheila E. Gilbert

Anne Lesley Groell

Beth Meacham

Diana Pho

Gillian Redfearn

Navah Wolfe

Best Professional Artist

Galen Dara

Jaime Jones

Victo Ngai

John Picacio

Yuko Shimizu

Charles Vess

Best Semiprozine

Beneath Ceaseless Skies, editor-in-chief and publisher Scott H. Andrews

Fireside Magazine, edited by Julia Rios, managing editor Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, social coordinator Meg Frank, special features editor Tanya DePass, founding editor Brian White, publisher and art director Pablo Defendini

FIYAH Magazine of Black Speculative Fiction, executive editors Troy L. Wiggins and DaVaun Sanders, editors L.D. Lewis, Brandon O’Brien, Kaleb Russell, Danny Lore, and Brent Lambert

Shimmer, publisher Beth Wodzinski, senior editor E. Catherine Tobler

Strange Horizons, edited by Jane Crowley, Kate Dollarhyde, Vanessa Rose Phin, Vajra Chandrasekera, Romie Stott, Maureen Kincaid Speller, and the Strange Horizons Staff

Uncanny Magazine, publishers/editors-in-chief Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas, managing editor Michi Trota, podcast producers Erika Ensign and Steven Schapansky, Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction Special Issue editors-in-chief Elsa Sjunneson-Henry and Dominik Parisien

Best Fanzine

Galactic Journey, founder Gideon Marcus, editor Janice Marcus

Journey Planet, edited by Team Journey Planet

Lady Business, editors Ira, Jodie, KJ, Renay, & Susan

nerds of a feather, flock together, editors Joe Sherry, Vance Kotrla and The G

Quick Sip Reviews, editor Charles Payseur

Rocket Stack Rank, editors Greg Hullender and Eric Wong

Best Fancast

Be the Serpent, presented by Alexandra Rowland, Freya Marske and Jennifer Mace

The Coode Street Podcast, presented by Jonathan Strahan and Gary K. Wolfe

Fangirl Happy Hour, hosted by Ana Grilo and Renay Williams

Galactic Suburbia, hosted by Alisa Krasnostein, Alexandra Pierce, and Tansy Rayner Roberts, produced by Andrew Finch

Our Opinions Are Correct, hosted by Annalee Newitz and Charlie Jane Anders

The Skiffy and Fanty Show, produced by Jen Zink and Shaun Duke, hosted by the Skiffy and Fanty Crew 

Best Fan Writer

Foz Meadows

James Davis Nicoll

Charles Payseur

Elsa Sjunneson-Henry

Alasdair Stuart

Bogi Takács

Best Fan Artist

Sara Felix

Grace P. Fong

Meg Frank

Ariela Housman

Likhain (Mia Sereno)

Spring Schoenhuth

Best Art Book

The Books of Earthsea: The Complete Illustrated Edition, illustrated by Charles Vess, written by Ursula K. Le Guin (Saga Press)

Daydreamer’s Journey: The Art of Julie Dillon, by Julie Dillon (self-published)

Dungeons & Dragons Art & Arcana: A Visual History, by Michael Witwer, Kyle Newman, Jon Peterson, Sam Witwer (Ten Speed Press)

Spectrum 25: The Best in Contemporary Fantastic Art, edited by John Fleskes (Flesk Publications)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse—The Art of the Movie, by Ramin Zahed (Titan Books)

Tolkien: Maker of Middle-earth, edited by Catherine McIlwaine (Bodleian Library)

John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer

Katherine Arden (2nd year of eligibility)

S.A. Chakraborty (2nd year of eligibility)

R.F. Kuang (1st year of eligibility)

Jeannette Ng (2nd year of eligibility)

Vina Jie-Min Prasad (2nd year of eligibility)

Rivers Solomon (2nd year of eligibility)

Lodestar Award for Best Young Adult Book

The Belles, by Dhonielle Clayton (Freeform)

Children of Blood and Bone, by Tomi Adeyemi (Henry Holt)

The Cruel Prince, by Holly Black (Little, Brown)

Dread Nation, by Justina Ireland (Balzer + Bray)

The Invasion, by Peadar O’Guilin (Scholastic)

Tess of the Road, by Rachel Hartman (Random House)

Who are you pulling for at this year’s Hugo Awards? Let us know in the comments.

The post The Strange and Familiar Nominees for the 2019 Hugo Awards appeared first on The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/sci-fi-fantasy/the-nominees-for-the-2019-hugo-awards/

Of Love and Robots: 12 Stories of Truly Science Fictional Romance

The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog
silver

The Silver Metal Lover cover detail; art by Kinuko Y. Craft

The argument against Valentine’s Day is that it is an invented holiday designed to sell greeting cards, chocolate, and flowers. But who’s to say those tokens of affection don’t symbolize real love? What exactly is real love, anyway? A system of measured responses, right? Couldn’t we think of it as a subroutine hidden within our DNA, made manifest in the form of tiny paper hearts? And if so, could a machine feel love?

Romance between man and machine isn’t the rarest of sci-fi tropes, but it pops up less often than you’d think, and requires careful drawing of boundaries. There’s a whole spread of artificial or augmented humans in fiction: your classic robot (or maybe more correctly, android), an automaton with varying degrees of sentience or agency in human shape; the cyborg: an enhanced human, who can sport everything from simple physical augmentations to brain implants that potentially change the self into something other than human; then there’s the truly artificial intelligence, usually understood to be disembodied, but occasionally decanted into something approximating human form.

Love stories with straight up robots tend to have a sense of the pathetic around them. It’s like the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “In Theory,” in which the emotionless android Data acquires a girlfriend. His statement that he’s “fully functional” has fired fanfiction furnaces, but it ultimately isn’t true: Data can’t give his lady friend real, reciprocated emotions, even if he can fake them. These stories often fall into an Uncanny Valley: this close to human, but somehow not right. Given the right treatment, the effect can be eerie; not so much “what makes us human” as “what doesn’t?”

Physically enhanced cyborgs probably shouldn’t be considered alongside robots or artificial humans. Characters who have had their brain chemistry altered in some way, a la Robocop, are a different story. These characters often question how much of their personality is their authentic self, and how much is a function of intrusive technology. And, of course, if there is any meaningful distinction between the two.

The question of programming dogs the AI romance as well. The movie Her deals quite beautifully with the alienating power of our technology, and its paradoxical intimacy. The AI with whom the main character is in love sends a human proxy for him to, ahem, “interact” with. He’s more than a little freaked out by this human automaton acting as outlet to his physical needs. It’s a fairly ravaging sequence, all these layered motivations and desires, acted out between two bodies and a theoretical third mind. Romantic love is a contested thing, and how much physical desire factors into our more courtly or Platonic notions of love is an open question. What kind of love is love that can’t kiss, or hold or touch?

The love story with a programmed being calls into question our own programming, be it cultural or biological. That first flush of new love is often dismissed as “mere lust,” but without it, what separates romantic love from the more familial kinds? The question of agency dogs these love stories: does anyone choose to love?

Forward the Foundation, by Isaac Asimov
Forward the Foundation is the second of two prequels written decades after Asimov’s original Foundation trilogy, and the last novel he wrote before his death. The duology follows the life of Hari Seldon, the father of psychohistory, the fictional sociological mathematics that seeks to divine the future, at least in broad strokes, which drives the plot of the entire series. Hari’s an old man in this novel, winding down before writing what will become his defining theorem, and it’s not hard to read him as Asimov’s alter ego. Hari’s wife is the enigmatic Dors, who is more or less openly acknowledged to be a robot. There’s some blatant wish fulfillment, in that this creaky old man continues to have a hot wife. But also, there’s something adorable about the Granddaddy of Robots envisioning this comfortable marriage with his formidable legacy. Robots were the love of his life.

A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers
A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet is very much an ensemble cast, set aboard a wormhole-building ship as it threads its way to the galactic core. We are introduced to the relationship between the ship mechanic, Jenks, and the ship’s AI, Lovey, early on: they are in love, and contemplating decanting her personality into a physical body. Chambers dispenses with a lot of the typical handwringing about whether a human and an AI can truly love one another given their differences, etc., etc., and moves on to more complex questions. Lovely and Jenks recognize that they are in many ways alien to one another, but in a universe with literal aliens, their differences are just one among many. Their relationship affected me more than any other in the novel, and I honestly shed tears at the end.

Silver Metal Lover, by Tanith Lee
Jane is a pampered, pointless teenager in an almost post-apocalyptic Earth, the single daughter of a singer mother who treats her like a toy or a nuisance. She flits around, aimless, with her equally aimless friends, until she meets Silver. He is a new kind of robot, one who is creative and beautiful and almost human, not one of the sad talking heads that drive the taxis. Jane becomes obsessed, more than obsessed, with Silver. The question of Silver’s true agency is constant: whether he can truly love her back, or if it’s just a question of programming, Silver getting better and better at fulfilling Jane’s wishes. There’s a lot about Jane that is pitiable and pathetic, all that desperate need for love on display in a way that makes you wince. Maybe Silver feels what she needs him to feel. Maybe it’s too sad to consider the alternative.

The Mad Scientist’s Daughter, by Cassandra Rose Clarke
The Mad Scientist’s Daughter is in many ways the most straightforward love story on this list, but that it not to say it is simplistic. The android Finn comes to live with Kat and her family when she is five. He acts as her tutor, then, as she ages, as her lover. She doesn’t believe him to have emotions, and questions her own motivations in enacting an affair with a being who can not reciprocate her feelings. This is the reverse of many robot love stories, where the authenticity of the android’s emotions are questioned endlessly and the human’s are understood to be authentic. This is an intensely personal novel, and achingly lovely.

Keeping it Real, by Justina Robson
Keeping it Real has a real oddball of a setup: in 2015, a CERN-like installation set off a quantum bomb, which reordered the nature of reality. Now, magic and tech co-exist, there are multiple Fairie-like realms in contact with Earth, and the past shifts as all the potential pasts interlace. As I said, it’s a doozy. Special Agent Lila Black is more machine than human at this point, with AIs in her head and weapons programs that can overtake her. She’s tasked with playing bodyguard for rockstar/hunk of burning love/elf Zal, and sparks fly. There is nothing straightforward about this relationship, a complex mediation between not just two different people, but also between magic and technology. Interesting stuff.

Autonomous, by Annalee Newitz
This Nebula-nominated debut novel covers a lot of ground, exploring the ethics of for-profit medicine and the morality of drug piracy in near-future North America altered by climate change, but it’s the secondary narrative, about the subtle awakening of an artificial mind to its own autonomy, that truly resonates. Paladin is an indentured robot partnered with Eliasz, a military agent tasked with tracking down a pharmaceutical pirate, and newly awakening to their own autonomy. Eliasz, who seems to be struggling with repressed homosexual urges, finds himself drawn to the power of the robot’s metallic musculature, an attraction that grows into something like lust when he learns that the scrap of human brain tissue powering Paladin’s facial recognition programming came from a female donor. Questions of consent and power dynamics power are at play in this truly unusual relationship.

Cinder, by Marissa Meyer
In this retelling of Cinderella, Cinder Linh is a cyborg mechanic in a far-future pan-Asian empire. As a cyborg, Cinder has no rights, all of her income going to supporting her bitter step-mother and two step-sisters. She meets the emperor’s son, Kai, when he asks her to fix an old robot. It turns out that someone has tampered with the robot, which results in a sort of murder mystery plot. Cinder and Kai enact their forbidden romance in stolen moments, and she is always aware he may divine her cyborg nature and reject her. Often the robot or the cyborg stands in for other inequalities: racial prejudice, poverty, religious divisions. The cyborg is not quite human, just like [insert slur here], and Cinder highlights the trope.

Galatea 2.2, by Richard Powers
Richard Powers’s 1995 novel is a retelling of the Pygmalion myth, about an artist falling in love with a statue he created, and the statue coming to life due to his ardor. In Galatea 2.2, a writer suffering from writer’s block returns to his alma mater for a sabbatical year. There, he’s tasked with teaching an AI named Helen the Western Canon, in the hopes that she can pass a literary Turing test of sorts: can a computer produce literary analysis that is indistinguishable from a human’s? Interwoven with his teaching of Helen are memories of a love affair he had with a woman he calls C. While he and Helen are never quite in a love affair themselves, the depth and complexity of their emotions, and the ways they are contrasted with his volatile relationship with C, make Galatea 2.2 a fascinating study in art and love: how much do we mold and change our lovers, and ourselves, through the act of love?

Our Lady of the Ice, by Cassandra Rose Clarke
Our Lady of the Ice is an interesting one, because the love relationship is between the android Sophia and a cyborg (who I will not specify due to spoilers). Usually, in relationships involving a human, the relative humanity of the robot is at issue: can they even love? But here, Sophia regularly throws the cyborg’s partial humanity back back in her face. The Antarctic dome city where these characters live is barely tolerant of androids, and cyborgs are to be killed upon discovery. Sophia cannot understand why the cyborg would cling to her humanity when humanity wants to end her. It’s interesting to see this conundrum from the other side, with human caprice and need at issue in a robot romance.

Idoru, by William Gibson
Much of Gibson’s catalog could be included here, from whatever the hell it is Bobby and Angie pull off at the end of Mona Lisa Overdrive, to the various modded and enhanced humans who people the Sprawl. Iduro is probably the most explicit. The titular idoru (Japanese for idol) is a synthetic human—an AI who uses holograms to interact with people—named Rei Toei. Rock star Rez wants to marry the idoru, which worries his handlers and staff. Not only is marrying an AI illegal, but the lack of physicality keeps coming up: don’t you want to, um, make love to your wife? Where lovemaking with robots seems pathetic (or creepy), the lack of sex with AIs makes the romantic love seem incomplete.

Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie
One could argue that there is neither romantic love nor robots in Ann Leckie’s Imperial Radch trilogy, but bear with me: main character Breq is an ancillary, the last human body of the space ship Justice of Toren’s AI; she is a remnant of a larger AI, trapped in a single body. Looks like an android to me. All the other ancillaries, and the ship itself, were destroyed because the ship loved its captain, the way a ship is designed to do, and it was ordered to destroy that love. That question of love, both in terms of affection and allegiance, dogs the entire trilogy, but becomes very explicit in this final chapter.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick
Honestly, I struggled with whether to include this one. I figured I’d get a bunch of people yelling at me if I didn’t at least acknowledge it, even though there really isn’t a central love story. Dick’s works often grapple with what it means to be human, both how we can know ourselves and what the world around us is. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? follows the (sort of) bounty hunter Rick Deckard, tasked with “retiring” rogue androids. He ends up in a tangled relationship with the very nearly human android Rachael, and, you know, could be an android himself. One of the novel’s central questions is empathy, that ability to imagine and honor the interior states of others. Maybe it’s love, maybe it isn’t—maybe you’re human, or you aren’t—but if you can’t tell the difference, what’s the difference?

What’s your favorite robot love story?

The post Of Love and Robots: 12 Stories of Truly Science Fictional Romance appeared first on The B&N Sci-Fi and Fantasy Blog.

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/sci-fi-fantasy/of-love-and-robots-11-stories-of-truly-science-fictional-romance/