23 April, 2002
Triplanetary
Edward E. Smith, Ph. D.
1948
287 pp (HC)
E. E. Smith is a beloved figure among science fiction fans. His Lensman novels are widely considered to be genre classics. Triplanetary is part of that series, although it didn't start out that way. As I understand it, after the first four Lensman novels proved to be successful, Smith modified an earlier, non-Lensman work into a prequel to the series, resulting in the novel which is now published as Triplanetary. If one is planning to read the entire Lensman series, this is probably not the best place to start. However, if like me, you're just curious about the whole E. E. Smith phenomenon, it's probably as good a book to read as any. (Or, maybe not. Fans of the series can throw in their two cents in the comments section.) I picked it out because it was available in the library.
This is science fiction of the "exploding spaceship" variety. And exploding airplanes, exploding missiles, exploding ordnance, exploding space stations, exploding cities-- you get the picture.
The novel Triplanetary essentially consists of two parts. The first hundred pages or so consists of a series of short vignettes showing the history of the conflict between two godlike groups of aliens-- the Evil Eddorians and the Good Arisians-- and how the conflict plays out in the development and history of the human race. The last 200 pages, which is mostly formed from the original, non-Lensman Triplanetary are presented as another episode in the conflict, but it is much, much longer than any of the bits in the first part.
Originally, I was going to say that this book wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected it to be. The first two sections (the bits which weren't in the original version of Triplanetary) aren't what I'd call "good," but there's some potentially interesting plot in there, and the short sequences are passable action-adventure. The prose is pretty bad, but I can see how somebody might like it, if they're into that sort of thing. However, the major part of the book (the modified version of the original Triplanetary) is really terrible.
Before I go into all the things I hated about this book, I'll summarize its positive aspects, such as they are. The ideas behind the story are certainly the stuff of great space opera. Two super-powerful aliens races meddling in the development of the lesser species, first contact between humans and and aliens, I've enjoyed many a science fiction story using such themes. I wouldn't be surprised if Smith was the originator of many of the common space-opera themes. At the very least, he was probably responsible for popularizing them. Elements of Smith's Lensman universe have shown up in Star Wars, Star Trek, and certainly Babylon 5. If nothing else, Smith deserves credit for inspiring so many other people to create great scifi.
However, I can't shake the suspicion that all the folks inspired by this stuff were thinking along the lines of, "I want to do something like E. E. Smith, but good."
The characters are one-dimensional, even if they're one-dimensional characters striving with every fibre of their being for full two-dimensionality. We've got evil alien masterminds who really are out to rape our women. We've got We've got square-jawed super-capable heroes who do their duty, but get hot-headed when their women are threatened. I had a really difficult time distinguishing among the male heroes in the "Triplanetary" section; ultimately I was only able to do so as far as they were in different locations. I never could keep the two guys in the "super-ship" strait.
I know it's only a sign of the time when this book was written, but I found this book terribly sexist, to the point where I wished that the main female character, Clio, wasn't in the book at all. I cringed every time she did or said anything. Worse, the tone of the book leads me to think that she's supposed to be an admirable, or at least appealing, character. Judging from this book, Smith's notion of a "strong female character" is not a woman who's as capable and as interesting as the male characters, but a woman who carries on and tries her best, in spite of the inherent inferiority of her sex. She demonstrates her bravery by declaring how confident she is that the big, strong men will find a way to escape from the aliens. (Until the plot requires Our Hero to have some back-up firepower, at which point, she inexplicably becomes capable enough with weapons to take on a roomful of armored alien soldiers. If she had such nerves of steel all along, why was she such a ninny? It's so out of character with the rest of her behavior, before and after that part, that I'm inclined to disregard it as a rare case of Plot-Induced Intelligence.)
It's like the humans of this universe have some sort of kzin-like gender imbalance when it comes to smarts. Clio isn't quite nonsentient, but she seems to have less than half the brainpower of an average human being in the real world, while the male characters have at least twice the intelligence. Apologists might try ot argue that Clio's such a twit because she's a teenager, and a civilian (rather than a tough Triplanetary officer), not because she's female. However, that doesn't hold water in a universe where a couple of government scientists can gain, in three days, nigh-complete understanding of an alien technology which goes against all established scientific theory, and adapt it for human use in a matter of weeks.
Smith's prose is abysmal. The most readable bits are the parts where he describes the machinations of the Arisians and Eddorians, the action-free section set in a World War II munitions plant, and several of the action scenes, but that merely means that I was able to get through it without groaning. Most of the writing is laughably bad, and I mean that literally. Consider this section where the hero, Conway Costigan confesses his love for the heroine, Clio Marsden:
"Clio, I... we... you.. that is," he flushed hotly and stopped. This secret agent, whose clear, keen brain no physical danger could cloud; who had proved over and over again that he was never at a loss in any emergency, however desperate-- this quick-witted officer floundered in embarassment like any schoolboy; but continued, doggedly: "I'm afraid that I gave myself away back there, but..."Enough said."We gave ourselves away, you mean," she filled in the pause. "I did my share, but I won't hold you to it if you don't want-- but I know that you love me, Conway!"
"Love you!" The man groaned, his face lined and hard, his whole body rigid. "That doesn't half tell it, Clio. You don't need to hold me-- I'm held for life. There never was a woman who meant anything to me before, and there never will be another. You're the only woman that ever existed. It isn't that. Can't you see that it's impossible?"
"Of course I can't-- it isn't impossible, at all." She released her shields, four hands met and tightly clasped, and her low voice thrilled with feeling as she went on: "You love me and I love you. That is all that matters."
Even beyond the sexism aspect, modern sensibilities made it impossible for me to enjoy this book, or sympathize with the characters. For example, there's a bit where Our Hero blithely murders thousands, maybe millions, of innocent alien civilians when he poisons a city's central air & water supplies with a lethal chemical, then sets out to do the same in a couple more cities. Before that incident, I just thought Costigan was a dorky, badly-written character. Afterwards, I found him actively repulsive. Furthermore, he's of a piece with the rest of his organization, the Triplanetary Service. There's a minor scene involving Costigan's boss, where he orders some agents to summarily execute some pirates they've captured, because it would be inconvenient to bring them to trial. The way Smith describes these people, they're all supposed to be admirable specimens of the best that humanity has to offer, but I can't see them as anything but jack-booted thugs of the worst sort, government enforcers who consider themselves above the law. "Who watches the watchmen," indeed. Apparently, we're just supposed to take the author's word for it that these guys are all perfect, whatever they do is Right, because they're the ones doing it, and so forth. I'm afraid that I can't be anything but disgusted at a character who kills an entire city full of people, just so he can escape from a fairly nice prison.
Furthermore, the end is the most ridiculous piece of pulled-out-of-the-ass plotting I've seen in a long time. After the callous destruction of cities and civilian populations on both sides, the aliens and the humans decide to make "treaty of eternal peace." Apparently, nobody cared about the immense loss of life and property on both sides! I suppose the aliens are aliens, but I just can't believe that humans would be so forgiving. We're sure not so forgiving of one another.
Now, you might think that I've spoiled the whole plot here, but I haven't, really. If you read the book, you'll see that Smith does that all on his own. As I mentioned above, the novel is a prequel, and it suffers from "prequelitis"-- Smith wrote assuming the reader would have read the previous books in the series, and this assumption tends to drain all the suspense out of the book. It's hard to get too interested in the Arisian vs. Eddorian conflict, when Smith tells us in the first chapter that the Eddorians don't have a snowball's chance in hell.
The subtitle of this novel is, "A Tale of Cosmic Adventure." For me, reading it was more like "An Exercise in Literary Masochism." I understand, from reading old posts on rec.arts.sf.written, that Triplanetary isn't considered Smith's finest novel, but I really doubt that my biggest problems with this book wouldn't apply to other novels of his: the wretched prose, the flat characters, the sexism and other outdated modes of thought.
One thing I found amusing is the way the author is listed on the title page as "Edward E. Smith, Ph.D." I guess the "Ph.D." was meant to enhance his science fiction street cred. My guess is that his Ph.D. was in Chemical Engineering, or maybe Chemistry. The bit of the book about the World War Two chemist had the ring of true life experience and technical knowledge. He certainly wasn't a physicist, or astronomer. The physics and astrophysics in Triplanetary are bad, even by 1948 standards.