lightreads (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lightreads) wrote2006-08-25 04:22 pm
lightreads) wrote2006-08-25 04:22 pm
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To Say Nothing of the Dog; Or, How We Found the Bishop's Bird Stump at Last by Connie Willis
So, it’s 2057, and a time travel device has been developed. But the corporate sponsors and big researchers gave up the project in disgust when it was discovered that, though people can go back to most times, they can not bring anything forward. History is profitless, and so it is left to the historians. When we begin, the project has been overrun by Lady Schrapnell and her enormous donation to reconstruct the cathedral of Coventry, destroyed in a 1940 German bombing. Ned Henry, a historian, and his associates are being run ragged as she sends them back and forth through time to collect details and make measurements so the re-creation will be exact. Ned has made so many time jumps in trying to track down a particularly ugly bit of ornamentation that he is time lagged, a condition which leaves the sufferer confused, slow, and with difficulty distinguishing sounds. Ned is put on medical rest, but he is ensnared in the outward spreading consequences stemming from the actions of a historian stationed in 1888, who has brought a cat forward and may just have destroyed the universe. Ned is sent back to 1888 to keep him away from Lady Schrapnell, and on an urgent mission . . . which in his time lagged state he cannot remember.
The brilliant thing about this book is that it’s a science fiction story written as a Victorian comedy of manners. No, really – in the background there are time incongruities and something is wrong with the cathedral in 1940 and something is much worse in 2018 at the beginning of the time travel project. But the story plays itself out with cats and croquet and butlers and smelling salts and jumble sales and Victorian romances. This book is a tapestry of homages, most notably to Three Men in a Boat and various mystery authors like Christie and Sayers. Willis plays the style to a fault sometimes – Ned appears not to have any personal history before the beginning of the book, the protagonists spend a great deal of time running around missing the completely freaking obvious, and the whole thing goes on about 50 pages too long. I can’t decide whether it is worse that an author consciously make these choices in pursuit of a greater stylistic ambition, or unconsciously stumble into them. But that’s all part of the package, and it also has more than its share of the giddy charm of the style and characters, to say nothing of the adorable dog.
But really, it’s a science fiction story written as a Victorian comedy, and how freaking cool is that? The journey is rather nonlinear and rambling, and the conclusion satisfying for what it says about the nature of history (though much less so for what it says about the role of individual people). The concept is brilliant, strange, and occasionally hilarious, and that alone is more than worth the price of admission. Good stuff.
The brilliant thing about this book is that it’s a science fiction story written as a Victorian comedy of manners. No, really – in the background there are time incongruities and something is wrong with the cathedral in 1940 and something is much worse in 2018 at the beginning of the time travel project. But the story plays itself out with cats and croquet and butlers and smelling salts and jumble sales and Victorian romances. This book is a tapestry of homages, most notably to Three Men in a Boat and various mystery authors like Christie and Sayers. Willis plays the style to a fault sometimes – Ned appears not to have any personal history before the beginning of the book, the protagonists spend a great deal of time running around missing the completely freaking obvious, and the whole thing goes on about 50 pages too long. I can’t decide whether it is worse that an author consciously make these choices in pursuit of a greater stylistic ambition, or unconsciously stumble into them. But that’s all part of the package, and it also has more than its share of the giddy charm of the style and characters, to say nothing of the adorable dog.
But really, it’s a science fiction story written as a Victorian comedy, and how freaking cool is that? The journey is rather nonlinear and rambling, and the conclusion satisfying for what it says about the nature of history (though much less so for what it says about the role of individual people). The concept is brilliant, strange, and occasionally hilarious, and that alone is more than worth the price of admission. Good stuff.
no subject
Or me, for that matter.
As someone I trust recently explained it to me, Willis is good for the long wind-up and fast pitch, but much less good in shorter form when she just don't have the space she seems to need to deliver. A frustrating writerly fault, though God knows I can identify.