A Bantam Spectra Book / Light
(Sprache: Englisch)
The stories of three people - modern-day Michael Kearney who plays a part in a discovery that will make interstellar travel possible; Seria Mau Genlicher, a spaceship pilot modified to interact directly with her ship; and Ed Chainese, a down-and-out drifter...
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Produktinformationen zu „A Bantam Spectra Book / Light “
The stories of three people - modern-day Michael Kearney who plays a part in a discovery that will make interstellar travel possible; Seria Mau Genlicher, a spaceship pilot modified to interact directly with her ship; and Ed Chainese, a down-and-out drifter and adventurer, living in New Venusport - are linked by the mysteries of the Kefahuchi Tract.
Klappentext zu „A Bantam Spectra Book / Light “
In M. John Harrison s dangerously illuminating new novel, three quantum outlaws face a universe of their own creation, a universe where you make up the rules as you go along and break them just as fast, where there s only one thing more mysterious than darkness.In contemporary London, Michael Kearney is a serial killer on the run from the entity that drives him to kill. He is seeking escape in a future that doesn t yet exist a quantum world that he and his physicist partner hope to access through a breach of time and space itself. In this future, Seria Mau Genlicher has already sacrificed her body to merge into the systems of her starship, the White Cat. But the inhuman K-ship captain has gone rogue, pirating the galaxy while playing cat and mouse with the authorities who made her what she is. In this future, Ed Chianese, a drifter and adventurer, has ridden dynaflow ships, run old alien mazes, surfed stellar envelopes. He went deep and lived to tell about it. Once crazy for life, he s now just a twink on New Venusport, addicted to the bizarre alternate realities found in the tanks and in debt to all the wrong people.
Haunting them all through this maze of menace and mystery is the shadowy presence of the Shrander and three enigmatic clues left on the barren surface of an asteroid under an ocean of light known as the Kefahuchi Tract: a deserted spaceship, a pair of bone dice, and a human skeleton.
Praise for Light
Uproarious, breath-taking, exhilarating . . . This is a novel of full spectrum literary dominance. . . . It is a work of and about the highest order. Guardian
An increasingly complex and dazzling narrative . . . Light depicts its author as a wit, an awesomely fluent and versatile prose stylist, and an SF thinker as dedicated to probing beneath surfaces as William Gibson is to describing how the world looks when reflected in them. . . . SF fans and skeptics alike are advised to head towards this Light.
... mehr
Independent
Light is a literary singularity: at one and the same time a grim, gaudy space opera that respects the physics, and a contemporary novel that unflinchingly revisits the choices that warp a life. It s almost unbearably good. Ken MacLeod, author of Engine City
Light is a literary singularity: at one and the same time a grim, gaudy space opera that respects the physics, and a contemporary novel that unflinchingly revisits the choices that warp a life. It s almost unbearably good. Ken MacLeod, author of Engine City
... weniger
Lese-Probe zu „A Bantam Spectra Book / Light “
Chapter OneDisillusioned by the Actual
1999: Towards the end of things, someone asked Michael Kearney, How do you see yourself spending the first minute of the new millennium? This was their idea of an after-dinner game up in some bleak Midlands town where he had gone to give a talk. Wintry rain dashed at the windows of the private dining room and ran down them in the orange streetlight. Answers followed one another round the table with a luminous predictability, some sly, some decent, all optimistic. They would drink until they fell down, have sex, watch fireworks or the endless sunrise from a moving jet. Then someone volunteered:
With the bloody children, I expect.
This caused a shout of laughter, and was followed immediately by: With somebody young enough to be one of my children.
More laughter. General applause.
Of the dozen people at the table, most of them had some idea like that. Kearney didn t think much of any of them, and he wanted them to know it; he was angry with the woman who had brought him there, and he wanted her to know that. So when it came to his turn, he said:
Driving someone else s car between two cities I don t know.
He let the silence develop, then added deliberately, It would have to be a good car.
There was a scatter of laughter.
Oh dear, someone said. She smiled round the table. How dour.
Someone else changed the subject.
Kearney let them go. He lit a cigarette and considered the idea, which had rather surprised him. In the moment of articulating it of admitting it to himself he had recognised how corrosive it was. Not because of the loneliness, the egocentricity, of the image, here in this enclave of mild academic and political self-satisfaction: but because of its puerility. The freedoms represented the warmth and emptiness of the car, its smell of plastic and cigarettes, the sound of a radio playing softly in the night, the green glow of dials, the sense of it as an instrument or a series
... mehr
of instrumental decisions, aimed and made use of at every turn in the road were as puerile as they were satisfying. They were a description of his life to that date.
As they were leaving, his companion said:
Well, that wasn t very grown-up.
Kearney gave her his most boyish smile. It wasn t, was it?
Her name was Clara. She was in her late thirties, red-haired, still quite young in the body but with a face already beginning to be lined and haggard with the effort of keeping up. She had to be busy in her career. She had to be a successful single parent. She had to jog five miles every morning. She had to be good at sex, and still need it, and enjoy it, and know how to say, in a kind of whin- ing murmur, Oh. That. Yes, that. Oh yes, in the night. Was she puzzled to find herself here in a redbrick-and-terracotta Victorian hotel with a man who didn t seem to understand any of these achievements? Kearney didn t know. He looked round at the shiny off-white corridor walls, which reminded him of the junior schools of his childhood.
This is a sad dump, he said.
He took her by the hand and made her run down the stairs with him, then pulled her into an empty room which contained two or three billiard tables, where he killed her as quickly as he had all the others. She looked up at him, puzzlement replacing interest in her eyes before they filmed over. He had known her for perhaps four months. Early on in their relationship, she had described him as a serial monogamist, and he hoped perhaps she could now see the irony of this term, if not the linguistic inflation it represented.
In the street outside shrugging, wiping one hand quickly and repeatedl
As they were leaving, his companion said:
Well, that wasn t very grown-up.
Kearney gave her his most boyish smile. It wasn t, was it?
Her name was Clara. She was in her late thirties, red-haired, still quite young in the body but with a face already beginning to be lined and haggard with the effort of keeping up. She had to be busy in her career. She had to be a successful single parent. She had to jog five miles every morning. She had to be good at sex, and still need it, and enjoy it, and know how to say, in a kind of whin- ing murmur, Oh. That. Yes, that. Oh yes, in the night. Was she puzzled to find herself here in a redbrick-and-terracotta Victorian hotel with a man who didn t seem to understand any of these achievements? Kearney didn t know. He looked round at the shiny off-white corridor walls, which reminded him of the junior schools of his childhood.
This is a sad dump, he said.
He took her by the hand and made her run down the stairs with him, then pulled her into an empty room which contained two or three billiard tables, where he killed her as quickly as he had all the others. She looked up at him, puzzlement replacing interest in her eyes before they filmed over. He had known her for perhaps four months. Early on in their relationship, she had described him as a serial monogamist, and he hoped perhaps she could now see the irony of this term, if not the linguistic inflation it represented.
In the street outside shrugging, wiping one hand quickly and repeatedl
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von M. John Harrison
M. John Harrison is the award-winning author of eight previous novels and four collections of short stories. His fifth novel, In Viriconium, was shortlisted for the Guardian Fiction Prize and his sixth, Climbers, won the Boardman Tasker Award. Light was recently awarded the James Tiptree Jr. Award and shortlisted for the 2002 Arthur C. Clarke Award.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: M. John Harrison
- 2004, 336 Seiten, Maße: 23,444 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Bantam Books
- ISBN-10: 0553382950
- ISBN-13: 9780553382952
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Uproarious, breath-taking, exhilarating . . . This is a novel of full spectrum literary dominance. . . . It is a work of and about the highest order. GuardianAn increasingly complex and dazzling narrative . . . Light depicts its author as a wit, an awesomely fluent and versatile prose stylist, and an SF thinker as dedicated to probing beneath surfaces as William Gibson is to describing how the world looks when reflected in them. . . . SF fans and skeptics alike are advised to head towards this Light. Independent
Light is a literary singularity: at one and the same time a grim, gaudy space opera that respects the physics, and a contemporary novel that unflinchingly revisits the choices that warp a life. It s almost unbearably good. Ken MacLeod, author of Engine City
At last M. John Harrison takes on quantum mechanics. The first classic of the quantum century, Light is a folded-down future history bound together by quantum exotica and human endurance. Taut as Hemingway, viscerally intelligent, startlingly uplifting, Harrison s ideas have a beauty that unpacks to infinity. Stephen Baxter, award-winning author of Evolution and Coalescent
Harrison s novel is a cleverly assembled contemplation of how choices make lives and of opening quantum mechanical doors on bizarre potential futures. Booklist
Surely one of the best novels of the year . . . Deeply satisfying . . . the final chapters are a marvel of transcendence, reconciliation and redemption. San Francisco Chronicle Books
Brilliant, reality-bending SF . . . This is space opera for the intelligensia. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Succeeds in evoking the sense of wonder that science fiction readers look for in the best of the genre . . . Harrison brings an up-to-date sensibility to the hoary conceits of science fiction. The New York Times Book Review
Light is mind-bending in both its conceptual framework and literary deftness. Entertainment Weekly
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