This year I resolved to read more classic science fiction and fantasy, hopefully making a dent in that stack of books I really should have read by now. Mostly because they should be good books, but also to be better informed about my genre and its history. I decided that this meant reading six science fiction and six fantasy books written before 1980 by authors that were completely new to me.
Since I feel weird saying I’m “reviewing” giants like H.G. Wells and T.H. White, let’s just say these will be my reactions to books that have shaped the science fiction and fantasy genres in one way or another.
Up this month is The Jewel in the Skull by Michael Moorcock, first published in 1967.
The Jewel in the Skull (2010)
Written By: Michael Moorcock
Genre: Fantasy
Pages: 223 pages (Kindle)
Series: Book 1 Hawkmoon
Publisher: Tor Books
Why I Chose It: I liked the idea of a fantasy story that took place on a futuristic Earth.
The premise:
In the far future, Hawkmoon is pulled unwillingly into a war that will eventually pit him against the ruthless Baron Meliadus and the armies of the Dark Empire. Antique cities, scientific sorcery, and crystalline machines serve as a backdrop to this high adventure.
Dorian Hawkmoon, the last Duke of Koln, swore to destroy the Dark Empire of Granbretan. But after his defeat and capture at the hands of the vast forces of the Empire. Hawkmoon becomes a puppet co-opted by his arch nemesis to infiltrate the last stronghold of rebellion against Granbretan, the small but powerful city of Kamarg. He’s been implanted with a black jewel, through whose power the Dark Empire can control his every decision. But in the city of Kamarg, Hawkmoon discovers the power inside him to overcome any control, and his vengeance against the Dark Empire is filled with an unrelenting fury.
Spoiler Free!
Discussion: Well, that was fun. Nothing earth-shattering, but a fun read. In fact, it felt a lot like A Princess of Mars, even if the two were written a half a century apart. Both were swashbuckling adventures featuring gentlemen heroes fighting for love and freedom in a violent world.
And that world was probably my favorite aspect of this book. It had this super surreal quality with dark sorcery and men in armor carrying broadswords, but also with fearsome war machines and flying ornithopters. In a post-apocalyptic world, it wasn’t always clear where the technology ended and the magic began. I mean, there’s a bridge that spans the channel between Granbretan (Great Britain) and the rest of Europe. Was it magic or civil engineering? I couldn’t tell, and that was all right. In fact, I had more fun pondering the possibilities rather than being annoyed that Moorcock never told us specifically. Also, I am now in love with giant, ridable flamingoes, and I would like one please.
Dorian Hawkmoon felt very much like John Carter from A Princess of Mars (who, you might remember, I loved with my secret idealistic heart). He’s the ultra-noble hero, an embodiment of chivalry and honor, but with the added benefit that he had to grow into this role after the Dark Empire stole much of his humanity from him. I also liked Count Brass, another strong, noble knight-like stereotype, but one who is conflicted about actually fighting the big baddie across the channel. He’s smart and clever, and he’s in it for the long haul. Which means he’s out to survive, not make enemies. It was oddly refreshing to see the armored knight calling for neutrality while his bookish advisor was urging him on to war.
But, of course there are some caveats. There are always caveats. Again, like A Princess of Mars – and most of these older works if we’re honest – it’s not winning any awards for strong female characters. Yisselda, the delicate flower, needs rescuing by her father from the evil baron almost right out of the gate. And then her role devolves even further until she’s there mostly just to call out Hawkmoon’s humanity, and invite him to further heroism. She’s the reason he has to defeat the evil empire and make it home, but she has no value outside of her relationship with the hero. And the only other female character in the book is there just to tempt Hawkmoon away from his loyalty to his chosen lady.
And while it almost, almost, avoided any racism, there was a moment towards the end when some side characters were referred to as Negroes. Yes, written in the sixties, but everyone else had a cool fantasy name. Granbretan instead of Great Britain. Parye instead of Paris. Kamargians from somewhere in France I still can’t pinpoint. Moorcock couldn’t have come up with something (anything) more inventive than referring to these men by the color of their skin? It just seemed a little lazy in a book full of creativity.
In Conclusion: It’s a fast, fun read with giant flamingoes, and as long as you look at it with a broader view and ignore the sexism and some racism, it’s entertaining. I think I will look into reading the rest as I would definitely like to see what the Runestaff is and how it plays into Hawkmoon’s destiny.
Next month is Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K Dick. Anyone want to check out the basis for Bladerunner with me?
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