David FeintuchReviews

Top stuff. Non-stop action.

Hornblower in space? Marvellous stuff.

Another unusually angry young man - this one so selfish as to be frustratingly unpleasant to everyone throughout. I know the author is attempting to show growth and character development over time, but there is little enough of that and not even always in the right direction. I guess if the takeaway is supposed to be "life is messy" and that we change as much in good ways as in bad - then maybe

between this and the other series by this author I am done

Lent to me by a friend

A long time since I have read sci fi

A rollicking read

Has encouraged me to go and try the c s forester series tonwhich it appears to have some resemblance

Big ship

21 August 2017½

This book is the first in a (too) long series about a man who rises through the interstellar navy due to circumstance and random opportunity. This book was a fun read, but do not go into it expecting much depth or intellectual thought. Taken for what it is, a fun sci fi novel, its a good one.

When I finished reading "The Still" I was left wanting more, so when "The King" came out I rushed off to get a copy. It just felt like such a step backward, with nearly all of Rodrigo's personal growth reversed for no apparent reason but selfishness and spite. His relationships with Rustin, his brother, and practically every other person in his life are sidelined by his selfishness.

As if that's not enough, I continued to slog my way onward, but I think I really would have appreciated a bit of warning for what was coming next. I left this book shocked and appalled and with this sense of being coated with a layer of grime.

I was very disappointed because I've always been a big David Feintuch fan.

This is the first book in the Seafort Saga that I actually started to like Nick Seafort. He's a little older, more experienced, more jaded maybe. He is still the anguished scrupulous perfectionist, but he has finally started to apply the lesson that sometimes what an officer doesn't see is as important as what he sees.
This book follows the same structure as the others in the series, the first three-quarters of each book give Nick ample opportunity to alienate his friends, disrespect his superiors, and make new enemies, while providing the background for the enormity Nick will perpetrate at the end of the book when the fish return.
The backdrop for this story is the restive colony world of Hope Nation, an agrarian world dominated by a few powerful landowners. Since Nick cannot forswear his oath to duel the Admiral who abandoned him to die in the last book, he finds himself recuperating on shore duty, reluctantly appointed as the liaison to the landowners. Surprisingly, this is a duty he discharges well, without undue self-recriminations or creating personal enemies. Which isn't to say it goes well. Nick acquires enemies and his friends suffer, but it isn't personal. Of course, the rebellion of the colonists is complicated by the return of the fish, who care little for the twists of politics, other than perhaps in having a sense of tragic timing.
John Reilly noted this series is indelibly marked as a product of the 1990s.

On the other hand, there are many things about the Seafort Saga that mark it as a work of the 1990s. Some of these are scientific fashions, such as the notion that animal life in general and intelligent life in particular are so improbable that the human race is unique in the universe. (The alien menace, as we will see, leaves something to be desired.) The physics of faster-than-light travel may owe something to the theories of the cult-physicist, David Bohm. Aside from science, the series reflects the period of its composition in such matters as the relentlessly coed military and the fact that socialism is absent from the conceptual universe of the characters. Indeed, the most interesting difference from the science fiction of fifty years earlier is the change in the cultural trajectory of the future history the author imagines. Mid-century science fiction usually assumed that the alternative to secular modernity was barbarism. The world of the Seafort Saga, in contrast, really is postmodern in a way that will remind readers of Oswald Spengler’s forecast of the “Second Religiousness.”

Somehow, the best literary representations of a point in time are the futures imagined in science fiction. The aspect of Prisoner's Hope that struck me most strongly this way is the UN resolution banning so much as the mention of nuclear weapons. Unlike the somewhat nominal capital offense of blasphemy, this ban is enforced with deadly seriousness. Like bomb jokes in an airport, even using the phrase can end in the hangman's noose. When the Cold War was fresher in memory, everyone took this sort of thing more seriously, but after the spectacular failure to find any sort of nuclear program in Iraq after 9/11, public interest is waning.
Nick turns to the forbidden nuclear weapons out of desperation, both personal and professional, fully expecting to pay for his sins, personal and professional, with his life. Of course, it doesn't turn out that way. In a twist, Nick ends up covered in glory by trying to protect his friends from the [perceived] enormity of his crime. If he been more true to his iron code, the ultimate sacrifice he inspires in others could have been given its due. Providence never gives Nick a break.

The last time I read through David Feintuch's Seafort Saga, I stopped here. The second time, I forged through to Fisherman's Hope, the fourth book in the seven [eight] book series. I can at least recommend that anyone who is interested in this series persevere that far. I hope to finish the last three books soon. There was an eighth in the pipeline when Feintuch died, but I don't know if it will ever see the light of day.
I liked Seafort the least in Challenger's Hope. I blame his youth, and his unexpected, but unrelinquished, authority. At the august age of twenty, he is insufferable in command, although other fictional Captains I have known have done better at that age. However, this is the crucible where he forges his character, for better, well actually for worse, and the rest of the series would be incomprehensible without it.
I think the hardest part of this book for me is how I find Seafort a little too much like myself. Seafort suffers from the spiritual malady a Catholic would call scrupulosity. James Chastek at Just Thomism recently penned this bit about scruples:

-Scruples: They are a trick that keeps us from seeing our true faults. We obsess and worry over dramatic faults and wonder if we have fallen into something that we have no real love for or even temptation towards, when in fact what we need to work on – the evils we are much more attached to – go unnoticed.
Those who suffer under scruples are eaten alive by them, but it helps to see them as impediments to moral growth. Whether by subconscious connivance or a trick of the devil, they are smokescreens that keep us from getting to the things that we really need to work on and change. We continually fantasize about dramatic moral improvements when in fact the real real improvements we need to make are at once more obvious and harder for us to see in the face of scruples.

Nicholas Seafort's faults are many, but they are precisely not the things he worries the most about: being a poor leader, and being damned for breaking his oath. I blame his father for that. His father did do well, by his own lights, but he did poor Nick a disservice by passing onto him a strict interpretation of the creed his personality could not sustain. It helps to be a Catholic, rather than a Protestant. Especially an English Protestant. After Henry VIII made a mockery of religious oaths, the Jesuit order in particular helped push away from the inspirational, but very literal interpretation of oaths that was popular in Christendom pre-Reformation. So much else the English non-conformists tossed away, but this thing they kept, and cherished, and polished to a bright hue. And by this thing, Nicholas Seafort felt himself damned, when he is really the most dutiful, and honor-bound man in the United Nations Naval Service.
Nick can forgive anything, except himself. What he really needs to do, is admit that he is a great man. Nicholas Seafort inspires men to die for him. Of course, he makes mistakes, loses his temper, and makes a general mess of things. In fact, I think I hated him here. So did many others. However, he inspires greatness in others, precisely because he expects more of himself than he does of anyone else. And because he really is incorruptible. No one cares less for their career, or their life, than Nicholas Seafort. Of course, Feintuch makes him suffer for it. Everything Seafort does advances his career, no matter how hard he tries to resign. Providence reigns in his life. There is something else he needs to do.

A fun, if a bit heavy transposition of the traditional British seagoing novel into a spacefleet of the future. A fascinating comparison to the Starfleet universe.

The cover blurb says this book is

In the triumphant tradition of Starship Troopers and Ender's Game

I disagree. Midshipman's Hope is nothing like either of those books, other than being military science fiction. What Midshipman's Hope is really like is Mr. Midshipman Hornblower or Master and Commander. Each of these works is about the Napoleonic British navy, and tell the tale of a young lad who grows to the fullness of command through daring and luck.

Feintuch's favorite period is apparently the Victorian, however. Whereas the Napoleonic navy offered plentiful opportunities for glory and treasure, the Victorians bestrode the world like a colossus, and consequently their navy had glorious traditions, but little to do other than swab the deck one more time. Enter Nicholas Seafort, first middy of the Hibernia. Space travel manages to be even slower than sail, with voyages of up to 18 months between worlds. This provides ample time to polish the bulkheads and study regulations.

The United Nations world government is a firm ally of the Yahwehist Reunification Church, a rather toothless low church version of the Church of England. While blasphemy is officially a capital offense, it is rarely invoked. In fact, the Reunion Church is broadly tolerant, not only of other sects, but also of every sexual vice and hedonistic practice imaginable, with the exception of carelessly procreating and smoking tobacco. Is is refreshing to see a reminder in fiction that theocratic societies aren't uniformly grim and repressive, but in fact can run the gamut from laxity to strictness.

The central psychological drama comes from Seafort's own rather Puritan upbringing. He is grim, loyal to a fault, and incapable of breaking an oath. This makes him simultaneously fascinating, and a bit depressing. Through a series of misadventures, Nick finds himself in command of the Hibernia, and he manages to do more right than wrong as Captain. But he cannot forgive himself for his failures, or sometimes even for his successes. Nick has no greater critic than himself, and in space, you have far too much time inside your own head.

There are not quite as many books in this series as either Hornblower or the Aubrey-Maturin collections, but 7 books should be enough to keep most people occupied for a while, if you can stand Nick Seafort.

The first time I picked this up I was just a young teenager who loved Science Fiction, but I didn't have the stomach for the story at the time. I was used to Hardy Boys and Star Trek novels. Books that had very straight forward morality and 90 percent of the time ended exactly how I knew they would. This book threw me for a loop.

But, when I went back and started it again, a few years later, I found that it is an engaging story that never shies away from an uncomfortable topic, from cancer (albeit cancer in the future) to unfaithfulness, to the fun stuff (mechanical/science fiction geeky fun and explosions at inopportune times).

Midshipman's Hope is one of my favorite sci fi books. I've read it over and over. Nicholas Seafort is a futuristic young Horatio Hornblower, a midshipman who finds himself the ship's only hope on a voyage that goes from bad to worse, in a galaxy that's about to be turned upside down as humanity finds we're not alone... Heaven help that midshipman or the colonist will never reach Hope Nation.

Spoiler alert!

Interesting book, but the main character principal flaw distracts from the story all the way to the end. Fortunately, that flaw is explained then, so that closes that loop, but it is still a drag all the way through the story.

Stars burn hot and silent in the deepest gulf. It is their nature, and they do it with constant and unflinching duty. Of such stuff is Nicholas Seafort.While marred by a few awkward plot complications and some general stiffness, "Midshipman's Hope" is a fast-paced, enjoyable read. Our protagonist gets few breaks as threats, both internal and external, mount with increasing complexity. This is both a coming-of-age story and an exploration of the core of leadership.

Fun. Going into the book I knew aliens were going to show up and kept waiting for them so on risk of spoiling things they don't show up until nearly the end. I realized that the reason my father likes these books is that a lot of the plot depends on laws and regulations and our hero's interpretation of them. Apparently the author was a lawyer too.

Midshipman's Hope was named an ALA Notable book for Young Adults. I haven't been a "young" anything in a few years, but I must have an immature mind because I just finished a rereading and enjoyed it as much as I did the first time. This is a space opera adventure with no pretenses of being much more than prime entertainment.
The year is 2194. After worldwide communication has led to a breakdown of national order and a war has been fought, the United Nations is firmly in control of Earth, hand-in-hand with the Reunification Church. Interstellar travel is possible on ship-generated N waves, but a journey to the colonial planet Hope Nation takes 17 months one way. Because most people choose not to be educated, the rankings in the UN Navy come from the urban wastelands and discipline must be swift and harsh. Starships operate like the 19th century British navy.
Into this mix comes Nicholas Ewing Seafort, midshipman on his first interstellar flight, and senior middy in charge of the wardroom (to the chagrin of the older, more competent former senior, Vax Holser). About halfway through the trip out, a couple of tragedies leave Seafort as ranking officer, and therefore, ship's captain. Nick, the product of a cold, demanding father, is determined to be captain by the book. My only quibble is that Nick can't get outside his perfectionist self-flagellation, and the reader is subjected to his internal monologues fairly relentlessly. The science is a rather haphazard mix of 20th century and 22nd, but the adventure is the point and the adventure will keep the average adolescent and me flipping pages.

Very good read and refreshingly different.

Found this book difficult to read. Quite a different story line, compared to the rest of the series. The N'York slang was difficult to read and this combined with the constant changing of the characters lost the series initial magic.

Plot: The first third has mostly subplots, in the middle a quest plot with political sidelines comes up. Most of the subplots are handled well, the central plot falls flat a little too often. The ending is downright offensive in how blatantly it sets up for the sequel. There is no temporary end to this; it's like stopping in the middle of a chapter.

Characters: The side characters do not get a lot of attention, but it is acceptable. The main character, however, is a problem. Whiny, idiotic, insensitive, arrogant brat. Even when redemption came around I couldn't bring myself to care.

Style: The worldbuilding is interesting, though there are a few concepts that do not mesh very well. The writing flows, mostly, but ideas and scenes get repeated too often for them to have any impact towards the end.

Plus: The political background is done in an interesting way.

Minus: The main character. Unbearable, vile, whining emo kid.

Summary: It's an average read. It has redeeming points, but the central character makes it hard to stick with the story.

I rather enjoyed this book. Sadly I have seemed to have forgotten it all. It is a book you read, place it on your shelf and several years later you find it again and wonder what it is about. It was enjoyable to read and will sit there patiently until I take up the desire to fulfill my curiousity as to what really happened to those characters.

It did start a little slow, but it's All About Command, which is very cool. This one was so good, though, that I'm hesitant to get the sequel. The hero's already had all the emotional pain & growth of learning to deal with command--I'm afraid the sequel will just be About fighting aliens. Of course, I was worried about the same thing with Carol Berg's first trilogy, and that one didn't let me down, so maybe I'll put the sequel on my list after all.