James Gunn (1) (1923–2020)

This novel is about what the word “happy” really means—and about freedom: “An unhappy man is a deadly focus of social disintegration” could almost be from George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four.
    The story begins in the small town of Millville when a new company appears on the scene who, for a (huge) price, guarantee your happiness. Joshua Hunt’s initial scepticism gradually falters and, long dissatisfied with his life, he signs up for their services. What he finds himself show more increasingly drawn into is something called “hedonics”; but what is it exactly—a new form of psychotherapy, a new science or religion even? At its heart is a rigorous programme of self-discipline, using a combination of medical advances (if these really are “advances”) and an array of techniques for self-imposed mind-control. And Hedonics Inc. are ambitious: this is a whole ideology; and their aim, ultimately, is to create a new and perfect society. “That action is best which produces the greatest happiness of the greatest numbers.” And, “As long as we have these techniques available, nothing—no one—can make us unhappy. Like gods, we hold our own happiness in our own hands.” Mm, well maybe; but this is already sounding like Orwell, and the “perfect society” a dystopia.
    A couple of extra things to say about this book. First, it’s divided into three parts, each set further into the future than the last, and was originally published (1954 and ̕55) as three novellas in various science-fiction magazines. Gunn claimed it wasn’t a classic “fix-up” though, that he wrote and sold them with this eventual single novel in mind.
    And second, if you read it yourself be prepared for some pretty cringe-inducing 1950s stuff, such as this (talking about the colonisation of Venus): “It took Man four hundred years to conquer the relatively benign North American continent. In less than half that time he would change Venus’s alien, poisonous nature. Already he had tamed her, sweetened her breath, softened her hard bosom. Now he was making her fertile.” Gaah, I mean, where do you start? The way he saw himself, Western civilisation, colonisation, ourselves as a species, the environment, the planet and, of course, women all expressed in forty-five words! (But then, I have no doubt whatsoever that in another seven decades from now our descendants will be cringing, every bit as aghast, at our attitudes).
    But if you can put up with that sort of thing, this is a really good read—some of the details in particular highly imaginative. I’m guessing it was mainly meant as a send-up of the Church of Scientology (“hedonics” a parody of scientology’s “dianetics”), which was brand-new back in the 1950s. I can’t help feeling, though, that Gunn must surely have also been influenced, as so many people were, by Orwell’s still-fresh nightmare which had been published only seven years earlier. show less

Of all of the Star Trek novels out there, there are none that I look forward to reading more than the ones by authors who also scripted episodes of the show itself, in no small part because they developed the canon upon which the entire series is based. Though Theodore Sturgeon's novel was developed from a plot outline for the series by another author (the under-appreciated James Gunn), to read a work originating from the writer of "Shore Leave" and the Vulcan-defining classic "Amok Time" show more was an exciting prospect, especially considering its origins as a proposed episode for the series.

The result proved every bit as good as I thought it would be. In it the Enterprise is dispatched to Timshel, a planet that has quarantined itself off from the rest of the Federation. Beaming down, Captain Kirk finds a population that has turned away from intellectual pursuits to a life structured around laboring daily for a nightly dose of stimulation from the Joy Machine a computer created to provide a life of perfect happiness for the people. As Kirk investigates further, he grapples with the moral questions entailed in ending the Joy Machine's rule, as well as the frightening prospect of falling under the machine's control himself.

Sturgeon and Gunn's plot evokes a lot of the tropes that often recurred in the original series, echoing in particular the first season episode "Return of the Archons" in which a computer's rule established a tranquil population by eliminating individual expression. What sets the novel apart from the episode is the extended exploration of the implications of the Joy Machine's rule. Often this takes the form of dialogues between various characters, as the Enterprise crew argues with both the computer and its subjects, who readily and even eagerly accept the computer's programmed regimen and who raise larger questions about the purpose of human lives in the process. In this respect it evokes the moral and ethical dilemmas posed in some of the best episodes of the show, which are explored in greater depth than was ever possible due to the constraints posed by the format. As such Gunn's novel possesses a fidelity to the original series often lacking in other products of the franchise, while at the same time showing just what fresh possibilities exist by exploring its themes using other media. show less

3/5

This was a struggle for me to read and finish. Perhaps I was in a reading slump, but I suspect that my slump was at least in part caused by the book itself. The Joy Makers is a dystopian fix-up novel that centers around the main theme of hedonism. A company of unknown origin begins promising unlimited happiness of body and soul, for the small price of everything you own now and in the future, should you follow their dogmatic philosophy. They grow in power and prosperity, until they show more control the earth and its populace, all ruled by a board of governors that sit above their own laws. Eventually, a colonist from Venus travels back to Earth and discovers just how far the automation of humanities creation has taken the pure ideals of hedonism. Needless to say, the humans that inhabit this dystopia are not all happy. Who can be happy in a system that vilifies sadness?

It's a thematically dense book, uncompromising in it's exploration. What is happiness without suffering? Is present happiness worth sacrificing future happiness? Can happiness exist without free will? What are the innate desires of humanity, can we achieve them, and if we can, are they actually good for us? Indeed, what is more valuable on a personal or societal level than self gratification? It is in unraveling these questions that I think Gunn shows his strengths. Especially in last of the three novellas, Gunn does an excellent job not only creating a gripping end to the story, but also explores his philosophical ideas with a higher level of clarity and cohesion. Gunn makes a bold choice to lead every chapter with a real world philosophical musing on happiness. Some of these are fitting and prescient. Others not so much.

There are some moments of social prescience and creative imagining that stuck with me. I have to imagine that The Matrix was at least partially inspired by the embryonic cells that humans are confined too, where they float in a warm fluid, being fed by an omnipotent AI, given dreams to sedate and pacify them. Gunn also singles out Monsanto and DuPont as leaders in an increasingly corporate system, which couldn't be closer to the truth.

Unfortunately Gunn is not nearly as adept at writing the other layers of a truly great story. His prose is boring and monochromatic. Sentences bleed together with the same cadence, one after the other. Most characters are dull and two dimensional. Pacing is uneven. Action sequences are stilted. Setting is inadequately described, leaving most locations fuzzy in my mind. As with most fix-up novels, these different sections are wildly different in their quality, leading to jarring read. At least, as I stated before, the final novella is Gunn's best, which cleansed my palate from the first two.

The Joy Makers is a deeply uneven novel that focuses more on theme than cohesion or entertainment. I'm not of the opinion that every novel must entertain, but it becomes hard to understand and appreciate the richness of Gunn's thematic draw if there's hardly anything else to engage with. Brave New World springs to mind as an example of book that touches some of the same ideas and also manages to accomplish so much more. Nevertheless, I think that I'd be interested in reading this novel again in the future to see if it reads better.

Merged review:

3/5

This was a struggle for me to read and finish. Perhaps I was in a reading slump, but I suspect that my slump was at least in part caused by the book itself. The Joy Makers is a dystopian fix-up novel that centers around the main theme of hedonism. A company of unknown origin begins promising unlimited happiness of body and soul, for the small price of everything you own now and in the future, should you follow their dogmatic philosophy. They grow in power and prosperity, until they control the earth and its populace, all ruled by a board of governors that sit above their own laws. Eventually, a colonist from Venus travels back to Earth and discovers just how far the automation of humanities creation has taken the pure ideals of hedonism. Needless to say, the humans that inhabit this dystopia are not all happy. Who can be happy in a system that vilifies sadness?

It's a thematically dense book, uncompromising in it's exploration. What is happiness without suffering? Is present happiness worth sacrificing future happiness? Can happiness exist without free will? What are the innate desires of humanity, can we achieve them, and if we can, are they actually good for us? Indeed, what is more valuable on a personal or societal level than self gratification? It is in unraveling these questions that I think Gunn shows his strengths. Especially in last of the three novellas, Gunn does an excellent job not only creating a gripping end to the story, but also explores his philosophical ideas with a higher level of clarity and cohesion. Gunn makes a bold choice to lead every chapter with a real world philosophical musing on happiness. Some of these are fitting and prescient. Others not so much.

There are some moments of social prescience and creative imagining that stuck with me. I have to imagine that The Matrix was at least partially inspired by the embryonic cells that humans are confined too, where they float in a warm fluid, being fed by an omnipotent AI, given dreams to sedate and pacify them. Gunn also singles out Monsanto and DuPont as leaders in an increasingly corporate system, which couldn't be closer to the truth.

Unfortunately Gunn is not nearly as adept at writing the other layers of a truly great story. His prose is boring and monochromatic. Sentences bleed together with the same cadence, one after the other. Most characters are dull and two dimensional. Pacing is uneven. Action sequences are stilted. Setting is inadequately described, leaving most locations fuzzy in my mind. As with most fix-up novels, these different sections are wildly different in their quality, leading to jarring read. At least, as I stated before, the final novella is Gunn's best, which cleansed my palate from the first two.

The Joy Makers is a deeply uneven novel that focuses more on theme than cohesion or entertainment. I'm not of the opinion that every novel must entertain, but it becomes hard to understand and appreciate the richness of Gunn's thematic draw if there's hardly anything else to engage with. Brave New World springs to mind as an example of book that touches some of the same ideas and also manages to accomplish so much more. Nevertheless, I think that I'd be interested in reading this novel again in the future to see if it reads better. show less

I've never read anything by SFWA Grand Master James Gunn, so I was very excited when I received a review copy of his newest novel, TRANSCENDENTAL from Tor.

TRANSCENDENTAL follows a variety of humans and aliens aboard a starship on a very unique pilgrimage - finding the machine that will help them achieve the mystical concept known as transcendence. The protagonist is Riley, a veteran of the recent Galactic War, who has been placed on the ship to find and kill the Prophet of the transcendence show more movement. As the journey progresses, though, it soon becomes clear that almost no one on the ship is what they seem.

I really enjoyed this book; it was a great science fiction yarn. It focuses a lot on universe-building and cool ideas, but is still fast-paced and entertaining (unlike quite a few classic sci-fi novels I could name). All of the pilgrims are fascinating characters individually, and together they give the impression of a very diverse and interesting universe. I thought the Canterbury Tales-style stories were a bit of a cheat at first, but the unreliable narration makes the stories multidimensional. The protagonist, Riley is a somewhat bland, but I think that actually strengthens the book - he's a good representative of the human race, not a special snowflake of a human.

I'm often sceptical of the combination of science fiction and spirituality, even though I think they go naturally together (you always need something that keeps the sense of wonder going), so I was worried about all the hype being built up around the Transcendental Machine. I think it was resolved very well, though, and I didn't have to suspend my disbelief as much as I thought I would.

I hope that there's a sequel to TRANSCENDENTAL, because I would really love to spend more time in this universe! show less