| Previous | Contents | Next |
Gollancz rarely publish books by unknown writers, so that when they do you can usually be sure that the book will be something special. Phillip Mann is a New Zealand author, and this is his first novel. It is without question one of the best novels I have read in a long time.
The book takes the form of a diary interspersed with comments by the diarist’s friends (both human and alien). Marius Thorndike, whose diary this is, is an expert in alien linguistics. He comes out of retirement to investigate the language and culture of the Pe-Ellians, an alien race who seem to be controlling or circumscribing the technical development of humankind. So far so straightforward. In nine million other books that start from this premise the plot and development would be stunningly obvious and trivial, much involved with space battles and espionage and mysterious coloured rays. It is to Phillip Mann’s credit that he does not take the easy way out.
The Pe-Ellians are truly alien. Just ask yourself what that means. Most SF aliens are simply Joe Bloggs next door with a green skin and the occasional tentacle. Their motivation is essentially understandable in human terms. This is not surprising. After all, writers are people too, and it is much easier to write about things you understand than things you don’t. Hence real aliens are few and far between in SF. But the Pe-Ellians do things for their own reasons, and they are not human reasons, and Thorndike must try to make these things comprehensible.
The book begins simply, and becomes steadily more complex. There are layers within layers here. Pe-Ellia is a marvellously realised world. The problems matter, and there is no easy answer.
I have only one complaint, and that is a minor one. To the Pe-Ellians the concept of the Mantissa is a vitally important one. It is a state of being towards which they may (or, more probably may not) evolve. In one sense, it is godhood. But Mantissa is an ordinary English word, and it means the decimal part of a logarithm. It does not mean what Phillip Mann chooses it to mean in this novel, and every time I read the word, I was annoyed, and the spell was briefly broken, and I was back outside the book again. The willing suspension of disbelief is a fragile thing, and a necessary thing for the true enjoyment of a book such as this. To describe an alien concept, the writer should have used an alien word (he did it with Karitsas—even though it sounds Greek, and therefore slightly familiar), and he should have done it with Mantissa.
But that aside, I have no complaints. The book is a marvel and a wonder, a work of art, beautifully written. Give it a permanent place of honour in your collection.
| Previous | Contents | Next |