Catching Up With Peter F Hamilton

Peter F. Hamilton World Fantasy Convention 2013

While I've long been in awe of Peter F. Hamilton, I've only read a fraction of his novels. That seems unconscionable, given how highly I esteem his stories. Mostly, I'm familiar with him because of The Night's Dawn Trilogy. In the United States, the first two novels were split in half, and published as four mass market paperbacks in the late 1990s. The third and fourth halves of the story appeared a year after the first two. That's an acceptable interval between books in such an involved series. 

The third novel was published a year later, but in hardcover. Given how deeply I was into mass market paperbacks at the time, I waited an additional year for the fifth and sixth paperbacks. After the long interval, I had trouble remembering the characters, and all that had happened to them in the previous books. So I set the fifth and sixth paperbacks aside, vowing to read the entire series through from the beginning again. When I was ready.

Eventually, I did return to those novels. As best I recall, the process took me around six to eight months, and I completed the series in 2010. All together, this is one long, involved storyline, with weighty themes. Diehard Hamilton fans may regard it as unconscionable that I waited so long to start again, and took so long to finish the books. But while novels give, they also take. Those books brought me great joy, but they also took their toll on me. And in the meantime, while I was waiting to reread the saga, and then doing so, I was missing out on other great stories that Hamilton was creating. 

In 2013, I had the honor of meeting Peter F. Hamilton, and telling him how much I loved The Night's Dawn Trilogy. I also attended a reading he gave. In the years that have followed, I've gone on to read two more of his novels: The Dreaming Void and Mindstar Rising, as well as the short story collection Manhattan In Reverse. Ironically, while I usually prefer novels to short story collections, I enjoyed Manhattan In Reverse the most of the three.

Recently, I've started his novel The Abyss Beyond Dreams. While set in the same universe as The Dreaming Void, it's the first of a two book series called The Chronicle of the Fallers. It concerns life on a planet where much of the technology the settlers brought with them does not function. The growth of civilization is also limited by The Fallers, which are large eggs that fall through the atmosphere. They send out a hypnotic call that lures people to them, and once a person touches the egg, it absorbs the person, and then births a replica bent on killing anyone nearby. 

I find some of the technology the characters possess, and the abilities they wield, a little hard to believe in. Distanced as I am from these people, and how they interact, I find myself more removed from them than the characters in The Night's Dawn Trilogy. Yet as I read, I feel some of the same wonder I felt as I read those first mass market paperbacks in the 1990s. Also I get a little thrill remembering that when I met Peter F. Hamilton back in 2013, this was the upcoming novel he read an excerpt from. 

For those reasons, and perhaps even more importantly because of the way he treated me when we met, is why I'll keep reading Peter F. Hamilton, even if I don't read his novels in order, or in a timely manner.

Dragon Dave

E. F. Benson on Limitations

King's College, Cambridge UK

In E. F. Benson's novel Limitations, we meet Tom Carlingford, the son of a rich, retired English gentleman. He's attending King's College, but can't concentrate on his classes. University life in England is different from that in the United States. As best I understand it, students attend Sixth Form for two years, which equates to our 12th and 13th grades (or last year of High School and first year of college). Then they attend university for three years, where they have no general education requirements, but study only classes for their major. 

I'm not sure how easy it is to change your major once you've been accepted at a UK university. Unlike his friend Ted Markham, Tom finds he has little love for classical literature. So he loafs around, playing sports, and hanging out in the museums. Eventually, he decides he wishes to become a modern art sculptor. So instead of changing his major to Art (assuming that was possible back in 1890s, when the novel was published), Tom does the minimum he needs to graduate while reading up on sculpture. 

After graduation, he travels to Athens. There, he finds himself drawn to classical art. It affects him so powerfully that he vows to give up on modern art, and spend his life chipping classical Greek figures out of marble instead.

The Elgin Marbles room in the British Museum, London UK

While in Greece, he meets Maud, a young English woman. Her family is wealthy like his, and her father is an influential member of the government. While Tom is interested in her, she falls head over heels in love with him. But when they return to England, and he returns home, Tom is drawn to the sister of his old school chum Ted. Somehow, she embodies the grace and perfection Tom found in classical Greek sculpture. So Tom courts Ted's sister, and after they marry, takes an apartment in London. There he begins working on a life-size sculpture of the Greek goddess Demeter.

A frieze of Demeter, from the Parthenon in Athens, Greece

Unfortunately, his father dies shortly after learning that the company for which he worked has gone bankrupt. All the family finances were tied up in the failed company, which leaves Tom with no money. He attacks his statue with vigor, but it's a long, ambitious project. Worse, he can find no one interested in buying it. 

Once, when the financial strain has him in his grips, he seeks inspiration in the Elgin Marbles, or the portions of the Greek Parthenon on display in the British Museum. To clear his head, Tom walks past the Serpentine in Hyde Park. There he sees people swimming and enjoying themselves on a hot day in London.

The Serpentine, Hyde Park, London UK

Meanwhile, Maud's love for Tom has her tied up in knots. Unable to get past him and move on, she takes a holiday in the seaside Norfolk town of Cromer. She stays with a relation of Tom's for a month, enjoying the beach with huge sand dunes, and the quaint red-roofed buildings surrounding the church tower. There, she gains perspective. Although she refuses to marry another of Tom's friend, a promising modern art sculptor they met in Greece, perhaps one day she can open her heart to love another.
 

Cromer UK

In his novel Limitations, E. F. Benson ponders the limitations that define us. Each of us have strengths and weaknesses, and the paths we choose shape us just as Tom's chisel shapes his statue of Demeter. Tom's brother-in-law Ted, a bookish fellow student at Cambridge, becomes an instructor, and then a priest. His passion for for study and learning limits and isolates him from an ordinary social life. Maud's unrequited love for Tom limits her ability to love another who would make any sacrifice for her. And then there's Tom. No one in England is buying classical Greek art right now. It simply isn't the flavor of the month.

In order to make a living for his family, Tom is forced to make modern art sculptures instead. No matter what he does, he cannot awaken his original love for contemporary art. His passion for Classical Greek art has seemingly ruined him on every other form of art, or at least those that people will buy.

The first time I read Limitations, I could not empathize with the characters as much as on my recent reread. Having visited so many of Benson's settings in the interval, I better understand Tom, Ted, and Maud. I suppose, ultimately, that's why we travel: to better understand our world, and the people who inhabit it. 

Perhaps one day I'll visit Greece. I'd love to see the remains of the original Parthenon. I can only imagine how much more I might enjoy rereading E. F. Benson's novel again, after visiting the country that so transformed young Tom.

Oh, and while I'm dreaming, perhaps one day I'll return to England on a hot day. A visit to London when I'm not constantly wearing a jacket? Now that would really be something!

Dragon Dave

William Shatner and the villainous Leonard Nimoy

Aside from the overwhelming sense of how much William Shatner misses his friend, another takeaway from his biography Leonard is how long and hard Leonard Nimoy worked until he achieved success. Unlike William Shatner, whose leading man qualities allowed him to make a decent income fairly early on, Leonard Nimoy scrambled to make a living. His move to Los Angeles did help him pick up work in TV and film. Sadly, the parts he got were largely one-offs, and usually limited to just a couple lines of dialogue. 

Shatner paints a poignant description of Nimoy's work on projects filmed on location. The crew and cast of these poorly funded productions often literally had to pick up their equipment, and run from one location to another, just to film the next line or so of dialogue. Far from being concerned about continuity, or matching up backgrounds, all that mattered was getting enough natural light to complete the scene!

Even more surprising, Leonard Nimoy's looks largely relegated him to bad guy roles prior to Star Trek. Far from being cast as a wise intellectual like Mr. Spock, or the kind and compassionate man he was, all-too-often Nimoy was cast as a thug, a hired gun, or some other minor villain. So Nimoy struggled to find a way to make his bad guy roles more distinctive. As he was a smoker, he often suggested to the director that he could smoke in the scene. Surely the way he smoked a cigarette would distinguish him from his fellow bad guys, or say something about his villainous character?

"Sorry," the director or TV producer would always say. "We can't have a villain smoking cigarettes if the TV broadcasters pick up commercials from a particular cigarette brand. We don't want to send a message that only villains smoke cigarettes. Or worse still, that villains smoke the sponsors' brand!" In an age when the virtues of smoking marijuana seems to be celebrated by popular culture, and advertised in so many mediums, it's interesting to look back, and see how our perceptions change over time.

Leonard Nimoy would eventually find success through Star Trek, but that would take him fifteen-or-so years of solid acting. Nimoy continually took classes in acting, and any other skill he thought could contribute to making him a better actor. And eventually, his hard work paid off. Like Shatner, Gene Roddenberry invited Nimoy to his new TV show, and handed him the choice role of Mr. Spock on a plate. Someone had finally noticed Leonard Nimoy, and believed in him enough to give him a major part. Even more incredible, Roddenberry  fought to keep Nimoy on as Mr. Spock when the studio heads wanted to get rid of that pointy-eared Vulcan. 

Why would the studio heads dislike the character of Mr. Spock, you ask? Because he looked too evil, or villainous! That's why.

Dragon Dave

William Shatner Mourns

After awhile, you get to thinking you know everything you need to know about a given person or subject. Having grown up watching Star Trek, I studied all aspects of the program, and followed the actors. From innumerable magazine articles, to books like I Am Spock by Leonard Nimoy and Star Trek Memories by William Shatner, I felt as if I knew everything about my first beloved Sci-Fi TV series. And yet, there's always more to learn.

And, given the inconstancy of memory, there's always more to learn again. So when I saw Leonard by William Shatner on the sale rack, I said "Why not?"

All too often, books get purchased, stored away somewhere, and don't get read for months or years, if ever. I picked up Gene Roddenberry: The Last Conversation by Yvonne Fern several years ago, but didn't read it until recently. But something called to me about William Shatner's book, so I started reading it almost straight away. 

Despite differences in where they grew up, Shatner looks back on his friend and sees all the similarities, from the era of their births, to the economic and social situations in which they were raised. For example, both men were raised Jewish, and their families immigrated to the United States to seek better lives. Obviously, they both grew up with a love of acting, and took up smoking, a socially acceptable vice that, at the time, seemed fairly harmless to most people. When Star Trek finally came along, and offered them other opportunities, they both grabbed at them. So both became singers and released albums. Both took up writing, and performed one-man plays. Both championed causes, and gave back to their communities.

I realize I'm being vague here, but the details of their separate lives really aren't important. What's underlying Shatner's book is a yearning for his friend. He's looking back, and thinking about how much they had in common, and how it united them in life and friendship. Ironically, despite both actors' uneasy relationship with the science fiction conventions, and the ongoing role of Star Trek in their lives, neither man considered the other a friend until after the TV series ended, and they started attending conventions together. It was only then, when they weren't competing with each other in the high pressure environment of the TV studio, that they began to sense a commonality, and build a real relationship together. 

Shatner is strikingly, even brutally honest in this book. He describes himself as a man with many casual acquaintances, but few real friends. He also admits that he and Nimoy stopped talking with each other, toward the end. Friendships are hard, and Nimoy was a far more private man than Shatner. Nimoy was far less easygoing, and felt things more deeply. So Shatner grieves not only for his loss, but for whatever he said or did that made Nimoy turn away from him, and refuse to speak with him, or answer his letters.

It's hard to believe that five years have passed since Leonard Nimoy's death. For most of us, even the more fervent Star Trek fans, life goes on. But after reading William Shatner's book, I suspect that, for him, that time has passed far more slowly.

Dragon Dave

A Sketch from Richardson Beach

Since I started sketching, I take fewer photographs. Instead of trying to capture every interesting camera angle, I spend more time looking for something interesting to draw. 

When visiting new places, I sketch as often as I can. While my wife captures her watercolor visions relatively quickly, it takes awhile for me to complete the linework on a sketch. The process of building up color takes infinitely longer. 

Last year, on our trip to Colorado, I started lots of sketches. While I completed the linework on all of them, I only started coloring a few, and completed just one. So on our latest trip to Hawaii, I decided I just wanted to do one or two sketches, and make sure I completed them.

We returned several times to this little parking lot. We sat in the car, and I gradually added to my sketch. I found it helpful to inhabit the same place, to see the trees, rocks, and sea before me. When we returned home, I used the above photo on my computer as a reference. After several more coloring sessions, I completed it.

It may not be exactly what I saw, but it's what I could draw.

As it turned out, I started three sketches in Hawaii. There's another one I really want to work on, of the nearby Japanese Gardens. I'm not sure when, or if, I'll get around to the third. But if all I ever finish is this one sketch from our recent visit, I'll be happy. 

Dragon Dave

Rick Riordan and Socrates Part 4

The head of the Greek god Pan at the British Museum

After reading Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson novels about the Greek and Roman gods, as well as Plato's stories Apology, Crito, and Phaedo, I wondered if Socrates' teachings might actually have been radical for his time. At one point, he talks in Phaedo about the world being round, not flat. While Pythagorus, an earlier Greek philosopher, argued that the Earth was spherical, most philosophers before Socrates still held that the world was flat. So when Plato writes about Socrates believing in a spherical Earth, that could be every bit as radical as Galileo claiming the solar system didn't revolve around the Earth. And we all know what happened to Galileo, don't we?

Furthermore, while Socrates regularly mentions demigods and gods, he usually refers to God in the singular. One time, he even invoked Jupiter, the Roman version of Zeus. Did Socrates sees the Roman depiction of the gods as superior to that of his traditional Greeks? Or was he teaching that the ultimate form of religion should be monotheistic? 

Interestingly, the word monotheism is itself derived from Greek, and Socrates appears to have held beliefs similar to modern monotheists. Socrates seems to equate God with goodness, thus a believer should cultivate goodness in his or her character. Even if he didn't believe in one God like the Jews and later Christians, did he buy into the whole Greek pantheon, make sacrifices at their temples, and worship all the gods for their individual qualities.

As Pan was the god of theatrical criticism, did Socrates invoke Pan when he discussed a play he had attended? As Dionysus was the god of wine, did he honor Dionysus by pouring a little wine onto an altar, like Percy and the demigods give a portion of each meal to their divine parents? People are always watching you, and with someone like Socrates, who spent his days with his thoughts, perhaps he didn't pay respect to the gods in all the little ways everyone else did.

People are always concerned when philosophers and religious teachers preach a different message from everyone else. People want their children to hold the same values and ideals that they prize. Someone who teaches a radically different message, or even appears to, could be labeled a danger to society.

A drinking cup devoted to Dionysus, the god of wine, in the British Museum.

In any case, whether the leaders of Athens saw him as a bothersome old man, or a dangerous radical, why the need to kill him? Couldn't they just send him away? That was an option they extended to Socrates. But the philosopher rarely if ever left his beloved Athens. While he might praise aspects of other Greek city-states, moving to another town would be like moving to another country today. Suppose someone was kind enough to take him in, give him free room and board, attend his physical needs, and pay for his doctors' visits. The city's style of government would be different. Its cultural and religious festivals would clash with what he was used to. The cultural lens--formed by that city's unique history, government, and religious beliefs--would be completely different from the one through which he saw the world. 

Most old people want to die where they feel like they belong: in their homes. Socrates wouldn't want to be exiled to a foreign city-state. So whether his teachings were really subversive, or his physical needs and/or societal views just got on people's nerves, he opted to take the poison and die surrounded by his followers and friends. What old person, faced with the choice of dying in their own home, or being sent off to a sanatorium (or nursing home) wouldn't make the same choice?

In Rick Riordan's novels, the demigods live in cabins dedicated to their parents. As a child of Poseidon, Percy finds himself bunking alone at Camp Half-Blood. He can visit the cabin dedicated to another god, but he couldn't spend the night in one. Regardless of how lonely he felt, he just wouldn't belong in a cabin dedicated to another god. While modern readers might feel this is unfair, if Rick Riordan had written these stories in Socrates' time, I suspect people would have seen this treatment as right and proper.

Of course, they probably would have seen Rick Riordan's stories as disrespectful in any number of other ways. They might not have liked that Grover, a satyr who dreams of finding the lost god Pan, eats aluminum cans. Or they might objected to seeing the god Dionysus, who runs the camp, as disconsolate because Zeus always prevents him from drinking wine. People always find reasons to brand something they dislike as wrong, regardless of what age they inhabit, or whom they hurt as a result.

Dragon Dave

Rick Riordan and Socrates: Part 3

A Caryatid from the Acropolis in Athens, now in the British Museum

Even though he wasn't present during Socrates' final days, Plato makes no mention of physical or mental disability. So perhaps it's unfair to suggest Socrates was in any way unfit. But the question remains: if the Athenians had put up with his preaching for the majority of his life, why condemn him to exile or death when he's seventy years old?

Even if Socrates functioned well physically and mentally, all societies change with time. Each generation places its own stamp upon society. Socrates' views of right and wrong would have been formed by the society of his youth. It's one thing to tolerate someone's antisocial behavior if that person holds no important position. But if an esteemed member of society continually finds fault with aspects of a community's new direction, or the inevitable modifications to the religious and civil events that knit the fabric of their society together, the leadership would notice. 

Might Socrates have been less a radical than a throwback to an earlier time, or to a societal direction not taken? He certainly fought against societal trends he thought would damage his beloved city in the long term. Given how much Socrates influenced later philosophers, it's only logical that leaders struggling to put forward their agendas would wish to sweep the unamenable old man out of sight, rather than risk him and his followers scuttling their plans for Athens. 

A marble votive relief of Athena from Athens, now in the British Museum

In Rick Riordan's novels, Luke Castellan befriends Annabeth Chase, and helps her reach Camp Half-Blood. Luke is the son of the god Hermes, and Annabeth the daughter of Athena. When Luke turns against the gods, his agenda becomes more important to him than his friend Annabeth, and anyone else who disagrees with his grand vision to build a better future for his fellow demigods, as well as the rest of humanity.

Annabeth's mother, the goddess Athena, was the patron saint of Athens. The citizens there worshiped her for her skills in strategy and warfare, as well as her wisdom. Whether the goddess would approve of the leaders' decision to steer the city toward a better future by killing off opponents such as Socrates is open to debate. 

As for Annabeth, she never gives up on Luke. No matter how many people he hurts or kills in order to achieve his objective, she always hopes he will give up his quest to destroy the gods, and resume his place as a productive, encouraging leader at Camp Half-Blood. It's an idealistic belief, and totally unrealistic, given his decisions and actions. But that's why she's a hero, and why readers love her.

Just like Socrates' followers saw him as a hero, and sought to immortalize him.

Dragon Dave

 

Rick Riordan and Socrates Part 2

A man is handed a Persian-style drinking horn in the Cella frieze at the British Museum.

After reading Rick Riordan's novels about Percy Jackson and his fellow demigods, I took the time to read some of Plato's works: Apology, Crito, and Phaedo. Instead of looking forward, and propounding his own views on life, the Greek philosopher devoted these stories to the death of his mentor Socrates. In sum, they demonstrate what Socrates believed, and when public sentiment in Athens turned against him, why he felt the need to die by drinking poison, rather than opt for exile, or escape the city with the help of his friends.

As I mentioned in the previous post, Socrates was seventy years old when he died. I couldn't help wonder why the Athenians, usually described as the most open-minded and rational of the ancient Greeks, would decide to put this old man to death after accepting his teachings and community involvement for so long. While Plato portrays his mentor as a  man with all his wits, he wasn't present when Socrates drank the hemlock. And it's a fact of life that often, despite our best efforts, we lose mental, as well as physical function, as we age.

The ancient Greeks viewed stages of life such as birth and death, as well as certain illnesses and types of sexual activity, as influences that could corrupt or pollute their society. Plato clearly wanted to memorialize Socrates, and preserve his philosophy, by portraying him at his most rational. But what if Socrates had trouble remembering things? What if he started to rant, began to repeat a handful of arguments, or stopped physically taking care of himself.

Lapses in memory and mental function could have worried ancient Athenian doctors, as well as the priests in the temples of their gods. Had the gods cursed Socrates? Had they afflicted him with madness? In an era when people believed the gods protected them from all sorts of potential dangers, allowing madness to pollute the purity of the citizenry would put everyone in the city at risk. 

The Nereid Monument in the British Museum

Offhand, I don't remember if Percy Jackson and his friends ever meet Astraea, the Greek goddess of Purity, in Rick Riordan's novels. They meet a large number of gods, demigods, and supernatural beings over the two five-book series. As they pursue their quests, Percy and his friends discover that some of the minor gods have grown bitter with the pantheon on Olympus. With nothing to lose, these divine beings who formerly embraced good and preserved the status quo ally themselves in revolts led by the titan Hades and the Earth Mother Gaea. The young demigods attempt to address this imbalance, and win the favor of these forgotten gods, by pledging to honor them, and building temples to them at Camp Half-Blood.

Plato makes no mention of medical or priestly condemnation of Socrates. Still, the suggestion of divine disapproval, whispered in the right ears, could have prompted legal proceedings against any citizen, even someone as esteemed as Socrates. After all, if the philosopher's thought processes were corrupted, isn't it only logical that he would corrupt the young?

Dragon Dave

Rick Riordan and Socrates Part 1

The classic Greek architecture of the British Museum,
a center of learning, and where artifacts from
the Parthenon of Athens are stored.

As you can see by perusing my reading list for 2019, I've finished the ten novels that make up Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson and the Olympians series and The Heroes of Olympus series. I've always yearned to understand how the ancient Greeks regarded their gods, and Rick Riordan's lighthearted take on the subject made the subject more real to me.

This may sound crazy, as Rick Riordan's fantasy novels rival J. K. Rowlings Harry Potter books with regard to character adventures and fireworks. Still, the way he focuses on demigods like Percy and Annabeth, portrays their divine parents, and how the teens utilize their powers to either benefit themselves or protect others, tells me a lot about how the ancient Greeks related to their world. As a bonus, the second series brings in characters from a Roman camp, and demonstrates how the Romans viewed the gods differently.

After reading Riordan's novels, something spurred me to read a few of Plato's writings. His stories--Apology, Crito, and Phaedo--illustrate how his mentor Socrates viewed the world, as well as his place in it. As I read Plato's stories, cast as a series of conversations and arguments, I couldn't help think about Socrates, and why his fellow citizens might put him to death. To follow are some of my reactions and thoughts. They are in no way educated assertions, but merely reflections based on my own outlook and experience.

Socrates was seventy years old when he was condemned to death. The charge seems to revolve around his teachings, and corrupting the youth. But Socrates had lived in Athens, and been a philosopher there all his life. If his fellow citizens have tolerated his teachings up to now, why did his teachings suddenly become too dangerous to tolerate?

The ancient Greeks had far less medical knowledge and capabilities than today. Socrates would have suffered the ordinary accidents of life that maybe doctors back then couldn't set right. In an age without Flu shots, inoculations, and antibiotics, who knows what aftereffects of diseases like Tuberculosis or Scarlet Fever he might have suffered from. Additionally, as a soldier in the Peloponnesian War, he would have suffered injuries and wounds that left scars in more ways than one. 

Anyone who has suffered from a malady the doctors had trouble diagnosing knows the long term implications of infection. Even poorly maintained teeth can lead to a heart condition. It's safe to say the palliatives and ointments the ancients used to treat wounds and illnesses weren't as effective as today's more targeted cures. 

Might Socrates have needed a steadying hand to help him get around? Did he suffer from defective hearing or eyesight? Might he have lung or heart damage? Did the doctors attend him regularly to manage his ailments? In a society in which doctors regularly practiced assisted suicide and euthanasia, maybe the government weighed his physical needs against the community's available time and resources, and manufactured a reason why this long-time philosopher's teachings were suddenly a corrupting influence.

Clarissa, the daughter of Ares, the Greek god of War, in Rick Riordan's novels, might well approve of such a decision. Personally, I suspect that Percy Jackson, the son of Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, would find a more caring way of dealing with the aged philosopher. 

Dragon Dave

Frank Herbert & John W Campbell in Great Sand Dunes National Park

One moment you drive through scenic Colorado. The next, sand dunes transform the land. 

It's a curious thing, to gaze upon these dunes, and realize that in full sun the temperature can rise to 130 degrees. It calls to mind the devastation that can creep so readily into our world through neglect, or a misappropriation of our resources. For Science Fiction fans, it calls to mind the world of Arrakis, a desert planet at the heart of Frank Herbert's novel Dune.

Dune took Frank Herbert years to write. Inspiration came from an area of expanding sand dunes that a community in Oregon had fought to control. Ideas and guidance also came from editors and fellow writers in the Science Fiction community. Kevin J. Anderson, and Frank Herbert's son Brian, while preserving and expanding the Dune universe, published a short novel called Duneworld, based on Frank Herbert's original story outline. It is a vastly different story, lacking many of the elements that made Dune extraordinary, such as the entire Bene Gesserit order, and the depth of the evil Harkonnen family. This is the story that Frank Herbert might have written, if not for the assistance of his fellow writers, and the guidance of editor John W. Campbell.
 

It was interesting to sit and sketch here, while contemplating this awesome expanse of desert, as well as Frank Herbert's monumental novel. Kevin J. Anderson, a guardian of Frank Herbert's legacy, has hiked here. As an author who dictates his first draft based on an outline while he hikes, he found inspiration and beauty here. While my drawing did service to the sand dunes, my wife's watercolor truly captured the beauty and diversity of the national park.

In Dune, the spice mined on Arrakis helped humanity progress. So every aspect of human community and endeavor must constantly refine itself, and find new ways to meet the demands of a changing world. Sadly, the Science Fiction community has recently chosen to move into the future by attacking the legacy of patriarchs like John W. Campbell because his opinions and beliefs no longer equivocate with theirs. Because a man who died fifty years ago, and whose paradigm of life was formed a century ago, thought and saw the world differently than they currently do, the Science Fiction community has stripped his name from a prestigious award, as well as an annual conference.

So much for honoring a lifetime of contributions to the field, and the countless novels he elevated, like Dune, into extraordinary works of art.

It is easy to destroy, and hard to build. The dunes at Great Sand Dunes National Park teach us that. After two hours sketching in the sun, I found myself wiped out, even though I had sheltered  from the sun, and thought I had drunk enough water. The experience taught me respect for this awesome place, as I have always respected Frank Herbert's novel Dune, and the literary achievements of Kevin J. Anderson. After reading Duneworld in Kevin and Brian's book The Road To Dune, I also respect the magnitude of John W. Campbell contributions to the field, even if the strongest voices in contemporary Science Fiction do not.

Dragon Dave