Jun 23, 2004
Austro-Athenian Space Opera
[cross-posted at Austro-Athenian Empire]
I've made two discoveries that I highly recommend.
One is a website called onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml. On this site one can type in a definition and get a list of all the words that definition might fit -- a task it seems amazingly good at.
The other is a libertarian science-fiction trilogy by John C. Wright, comprising The Golden Age, The Phoenix Exultant, and The Golden Transcendence. (Thanks to Stephan Kinsella and Kevin Vallier for the recommendation.) While from a literary standpoint it's nothing spectacular, this thoughtful, imaginative, and suspenseful tale of a libertarian hero in rebellion against a libertarian utopia is definitely worth reading. Wright avoids the usual clichés of libertarian fiction by portraying conflicts among different varieties of libertarians, rather than between libertarians and statist oppressors. Even the most despicably evil characters turn out to be basing their actions, in a twisted way, on libertarian premises of a sort. And every time you think you've figured out the who, what, and why of the plot, Wright tosses a new surprise your way.
The books are also filled with sly references to delight both libertarians and science-fiction fans -- from Asimov’s three laws of robotics (mercilessly skewered here) and Lovecraft's"rugose cones" (who talk like Randian villains) to Spencerian sociology, Mises' Law of Association, and lines lifted from Roark’s courtroom speech. The dominant philosophical influence here is clearly Rand; even the main character's name is as much a nod to an incident in Atlas Shrugged as it is to Greek mythology, and a central plot point in the third book turns on the truth or falsity of Randian doctrine.
Along the way many issues of current contention in libertarian and/or Randian circles get raised and dramatised, including punishment, military ethics, survival-versus-flourishing, and Sciabarra-style concerns about the cultural prerequisites for liberty. And what other book features a Greek demigod and a Shunyavada Buddhist debating polylogism and spontaneous order while plunging into a star aboard a thousand-mile-long spaceship?
The only aspect that marred my enjoyment somewhat (apart from the inexplicably frequent misspellings and the like – can't Tor Books afford copyeditors?) is the presence of ludicrously antiquated gender stereotypes that one would be embarrassed to include in a novel set in the present day, let alone in a future thousands of years distant, populated by super-intelligent cybernetic minds who leap from one synthetic body to another at the drop of a hat. Good grief. Too much Heinlein, I suspect. (And oh yeah, one more thing -- the Oeconomicus is not Xenophon’s only surviving Socratic dialogue.)
I've made two discoveries that I highly recommend.
One is a website called onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml. On this site one can type in a definition and get a list of all the words that definition might fit -- a task it seems amazingly good at.
The other is a libertarian science-fiction trilogy by John C. Wright, comprising The Golden Age, The Phoenix Exultant, and The Golden Transcendence. (Thanks to Stephan Kinsella and Kevin Vallier for the recommendation.) While from a literary standpoint it's nothing spectacular, this thoughtful, imaginative, and suspenseful tale of a libertarian hero in rebellion against a libertarian utopia is definitely worth reading. Wright avoids the usual clichés of libertarian fiction by portraying conflicts among different varieties of libertarians, rather than between libertarians and statist oppressors. Even the most despicably evil characters turn out to be basing their actions, in a twisted way, on libertarian premises of a sort. And every time you think you've figured out the who, what, and why of the plot, Wright tosses a new surprise your way.
The books are also filled with sly references to delight both libertarians and science-fiction fans -- from Asimov’s three laws of robotics (mercilessly skewered here) and Lovecraft's"rugose cones" (who talk like Randian villains) to Spencerian sociology, Mises' Law of Association, and lines lifted from Roark’s courtroom speech. The dominant philosophical influence here is clearly Rand; even the main character's name is as much a nod to an incident in Atlas Shrugged as it is to Greek mythology, and a central plot point in the third book turns on the truth or falsity of Randian doctrine.
Along the way many issues of current contention in libertarian and/or Randian circles get raised and dramatised, including punishment, military ethics, survival-versus-flourishing, and Sciabarra-style concerns about the cultural prerequisites for liberty. And what other book features a Greek demigod and a Shunyavada Buddhist debating polylogism and spontaneous order while plunging into a star aboard a thousand-mile-long spaceship?
The only aspect that marred my enjoyment somewhat (apart from the inexplicably frequent misspellings and the like – can't Tor Books afford copyeditors?) is the presence of ludicrously antiquated gender stereotypes that one would be embarrassed to include in a novel set in the present day, let alone in a future thousands of years distant, populated by super-intelligent cybernetic minds who leap from one synthetic body to another at the drop of a hat. Good grief. Too much Heinlein, I suspect. (And oh yeah, one more thing -- the Oeconomicus is not Xenophon’s only surviving Socratic dialogue.)