Gwyneth Jones (1) (1952–)

A new book by Gwyneth Jones, whether a novel, novella or collection, is cause for celebration in this house. She’s been my favourite sf writer since reading Kairos in the early 1990s, and I’d even go so far as to say sheäs the best science fiction writer who is still writing the UK has produced. Big Cat and Other Stories collects eleven stories originally published between 2007 and 2016 (and one original to this volume), only two of which I’d previously read. Three of the stories are show more set in worlds from Jones’s novels, although one of those novels was published under Jones’s YA pseudonym, Ann Halam. This does mean for those three that you get more out of them if you know the original novels, more so for the story which lends the collection its title as it’s set in the universe of the Bold As Love quintet and features its central triumvirate of characters. The stories are chiefly science fiction but spread widely across the genre, from the slightly off-kilter pulp adventure on Venus of ‘A Planet Called Desire’ and the Leigh Brackett/Lovecraft mashup of ‘The Vicar of Mars’ to the near-future of ‘Stella and the Adventurous Roots’, ‘Emergence’ and ‘Bricks, Stick, Straws’, although they depict worlds not quite the same as our own. All of the stories are a hit of the pure Jones, and if you appreciate her science fiction then Big Cat and Other Stories is as good a selection as any other. Recommended. show less

It’s the end of the world. The environment is crashing, the markets are in freefall, populations are on the move, social disorder and anarchy are breaking out all over. Who do you want in charge? Who’ll ride in to save the day? Politicians? Action heroes? Or rock stars? Rock stars? Good answer. Welcome to the world of Dissolution Summer. The United Kingdom has broken apart and Europe is spiralling into chaos. In Bold As Love, an unlikely Triumvirate of activist rock stars emerged to show more shepherd England through a series off all-too plausible crises: waif-like witch Fiorinda, wild-boy punk coder Sage ‘Aoxomoxoa’ Pender and dictator-in-waiting Ax Preston. In Castles Made of Sand, our three heroes confront the new realities of their own unorthodox relationship and a world where technological advance and magic have become intermingled.
The current volume sees the trio, ousted from power, bumming and birdwatching on a beach in Mexico, recovering from their traumatic battle with Fiorinda’s appalling father, Rufus O’Niall. Sought out at the behest of the President, they are brought to Hollywood under the pretext of helping promote a film recounting their exploits in England. In reality, the three are hunting for the emergent ‘Fat Boy,’ a human magical weapon powered by an unholy union of scientific research into human fusion consciousness and radical Celtic eco-warriors who practice human sacrifice. Fiorinda is the key to finding the magician, but her fragile psyche is giving way to full-blown schizophrenia, a condition that could lead her straight into the clutches of their enemies.
It’s odd that something with a premise that sounds like a rather cuddly fantasy adventure thriller with heroes straight out of a Hanna Barbra cartoon – magic rock stars team up to fight evil, crime! With lovable cartoon animal! - should succeed so well in being real. First of all, any vestige of wish-fulfilment has been ruthlessly burned away. Sure, in one sense it’s about flamboyant pop-stars wielding music, magic and science to save the world, but in another way it’s nothing like that at all. The world is never saved. Dictator Ax negotiates half-measures, compromises and sellouts and still barely manages to hold things together. Magic, though rare, is hated and feared for excellent reasons. Very often, the only thing that remains constant is their music. Jones keeps her world fully grounded in science, managing to incorporate magic as a function of the world’s breakdown into irrational conflict and superstition. There are no easy answers or straightforward solutions, just tiny, incremental bits of good in the face of a massive landslide of bad. It helps enormously that Jones is an incredibly good writer, who never lets melodrama infect her style or language. She dissects the group dynamics of her three protagonists with the same cool, level tone of voice she uses to depict an assault on a group of Celtic fringe lunatics barricaded in a ghost town.
With two more books to go, this series has gone from compelling to riveting to incandescent. Fiorinda, Sage and Ax are real enough to step off the page, so much so, in fact, that in the first book it’s difficult to keep track of the large cast of supporting characters. Their conflicts, dilemmas and suffering become our own, as do their joys and epiphanies. The grim realities of a future where all our barricades finally gave way is immediate and, frankly, terrifying. We’d better pray that Ax, Fiorinda and Sage are there to save us. Otherwise we’ll just have to bloody well do it ourselves. show less

A young girl with an AI in her head is sequestered underground with a split team of dedicated scientists and reality-show wannabe astronauts to work on an experiment that may make faster than light travel. Except it won't even if successful - though it could make it possible in the far future. Their world doesn't have a future, though, as runaway climate change and expanding dead zones hems people into more crowded city enclaves. So what's the point of this whole effort? And why are so many show more of the senior scientists dying? And what is the machine in her head trying to tell her?

A sharp, cool, dense little story about the costs and realities of doing science too little too late. show less

I’ve a feeling I read The Female Man back in the early 1980s, although I can’t be sure. I do remember buying a copy of The Adventures of Alyx, the Women’s Press edition, in a bookshop/stationery shop on Hamdan Street in Abu Dhabi in the mid-1990s. It wasn’t until I started up SF Mistressworks, however, that I started reading Russ’s fiction seriously, and the more I read the more I became a fan. Jones, on the other hand, I’ve been reading since the late 1980s, since when she has show more been one of my favourite genre writers. So that’s a double-win: a writer I admire writing about a writer I admire. Jones does an excellent job of running through Russ’s life and career and the fiction she produced. Jones ties each piece of fiction to events in Russ’s life and to her changes in her views on feminism and science fiction – all backed up by references to letters and essays. I had always known Russ was a clever writer, and a sharp critic, but until reading this book I had not realised quite how prolific she was. I knew her fiction, but not her essays and letters and fan articles… and… Russ was a second wave feminist who eventually accepted third wave feminism (I think I’m getting this right). Jones is also a feminist, vocally so. I get the impression from this book that their different brands of feminism do not quite map onto the other, but I also get the impression that Jones very much admires Russ and her fiction. This is a book that will give you a fresh appreciation of Russ’s work. I was a Joanna Russ fan before reading it, now I am even more of one. show less