They clip me on the back of the noggin
I have been reading this Dune book: the Machine
Crusade, in about as small segments as I can manage and still actually finish.
It not only plods, it's over 600 pages
long.
Nonetheless, I was not prepared for
this:
Page
590:
Norma Cenva passed through
the light into a hidden realm, revealing a new universe. She saw giant
sandworms writhing on the desert world of Arrakis, and an eternal substance that
the people called the Water of Life. Sustenance for the body, mind and
soul.
A pathway to
infinity, she thought.
And perhaps
beyond.
I close the
book.
I look at the copyright date. 2003.
There's no excuse.
I am honestly bewildered.
These guys are completely tone-deaf, but surely they go to the movies? Watch
TV?
and let me assure you, this is not a book
filled with clever asides and oblique references. If this is a joke, there 589
humorless pages preceding it.
Did they really
not hear it? Did it not register when they read it back? Do they not read their
work back? Or
did they read it, recognize
the reference, and say 'screw it, it's a great
line?"
There always is a dismal feeling
when you think you have figured something out, placed something at a low level
of estimation, and then abruptly alter it
downwards.
I can't help it: I think of Frank
Herbert and his wonderful, supple, complex writing--hell, I think of E.E. "Doc"
smith and his small bag of adjectives and his expansive vision. I remember John
W. Campbell, Lester Del Rey, H.L. Gold, Damon Knight, Anthony Boucher, Don
Wollheim--an era when science fiction was actually edited. A tear runs down my
cheek.
"You are a strange, sad, little
man," says Buzz, looking up at me from my knee.
Posted: Sunday - October 28, 2007 at 12:25 AM