6 Books with Oliver K. Langmead

Oliver K. Langmead is an author and a poet based in Glasgow. His novels include British Fantasy Award-nominated Glitterati, Birds of Paradise and Metronome, and his long-form poem, Dark Star, featured in the Barnes and Noble and the Guardian’s Best Books of 2015.

Today he tells us about his Six Books:

1. What book are you currently reading?

 

I've just finished Kelly Link's The Book of Love, and I'm still recovering. It felt like an indulgence, reading that book - as if it was an enormous box of chocolates, and each scene was a rich treat. I found myself savouring it. There is a real trend, in contemporary fantasy, for novels to have pacing that feels like TV: quick and spare, with every scene feeling absolutely essential to the narrative. Historically, though, fantasy is a lot more indulgent - it meanders, it dwells, and it works indirectly, creating a marvellous sense of space. The Book of Love's meandering is gorgeous, and we are given so much time to enjoy each character that it felt like a shame when it was over. As debuts go, it's extraordinary.

2. What upcoming book are you really excited about?

I would be lying if I said anything other than The Book of Elsewhere - the collaboration between Keanu Reeves and China Miéville. The collaboration alone should be enough to pique anyone's interest. More than that - it's been a very long time since Miéville last had any fiction published, and I'm excited to see what this next offering might bring. That being said, I am a little wary. Miéville's last two forays into fiction - This Census Taker, and The Last Days of New Paris - were extremely experimental, in ways that didn't always work for me. I appreciate Miéville's experimentations, absolutely - but I also find myself longing for more in the vein of his older works, like The City and The City, or even the Bas Lag trilogy, where the experimentation feels more like an extension of the narrative. I wonder, too, how the collaboration will affect his usually quite striking style. Whatever emerges, I'm sure it will be fascinating.

3. Is there a book you're currently itching to re-read?

I'll tell you a secret: the first time I read Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, I read it wrong. I had seen it about here and there - recommended by everyone worth listening to - and decided that I would take it on holiday with me. So, I bought the e-book, and downloaded it onto my (decidedly quite ancient) e-reader. The book was brilliant - everything I imagined it would be, and more - and, of course, I was delighted that I could finally join in on conversations about it. It didn't take very long for someone to ask me about the footnotes, however. "What footnotes?" I declared. Because, as it turned out, my e-reader had decided to keep them from me. So: I have accidentally read a (perfectly readable, perfectly wonderful) "clean" version of the book, without any of the marvellous extras. I'm very much looking forward to buying a physical edition and sitting down to what I expect to be quite a different reading experience.

4. How about a book you've changed your mind about - either positively or negatively?

Ah! I had this happen recently. Miéville again, I'm afraid. I was speaking with a friend of mine - Matthew Sangster - about his experience writing an article about the mixed reception to Iron Council (the third in Miéville's Bas Lag trilogy), and I remembered how much I hadn't enjoyed it the first time I read it. So, I gave it another go. And on that second attempt, I absolutely fell in love with it. I think the problem with my first reading was that I read it straight after Perdido Street Station and The Scar, and Iron Council felt so alien to them that it alienated me in turn. Coming back to it as a stand-alone book opened my eyes to what it actually is: a rich political fantasy, with elements of Cormac McCarthy and even a little Ursula K. Le Guin thrown in for good measure. So much of reading is context - and it is an odd thing to come across a book which is part of a trilogy, but works better read apart from it.

5. What's one book, which you read as a child or a young adult, that has had a lasting influence on your writing?

One of the first books I can remember reading was Brian Jacques' Redwall. I was a huge fan of The Animals of Farthing Wood, and Redwall combined that kind of colourful anthropomorphism with a fantastical twist - the animals lived in an abbey! They were squirrels, and shrews, and mice, and they had to fend off evil rats and stoats! There were swords, and richly described meals, and fantastical heroes! But it wasn't Jacques's imagination, or even his wonderful riddles, that were at the heart of Redwall and the rest of the series - it was his ability to capture voices that struck me. He wrote in a way that made me feel as if I could really hear each of his characters speaking in my head. Today, I can look back at it and see the pageantry of it - the almost comically clichéd accents he was reproducing - but that trick has always stayed with me, as a writer. If I can clearly hear the way my characters speak as I write them, they come to life on the page.

6. And speaking of that, what's your latest book, and why is it awesome?

I have a book out this year called Calypso. It's a science-fiction space opera written in verse, about a colony ship and the terraforming of a new world. I interviewed astronauts to research it, worked with an illustrator for some of the graphical elements of it, and the majority of it is in metre. I can promise you a reading experience like you've never had before, but in a way that won't alienate you: you can read it like you would a prose novel. I keep describing it as a "page-turner poem". Some really wonderful people have given it praise - from Sarah Waters, to Tade Thompson - and I'm so happy that it's found such a brilliant publisher in Titan Books: they have made it a stunningly beautiful object. If you find yourself in the mood for something a bit different, why not give it a go?

Thank you, Oliver!

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Video Game Remakes/Remasters: Loving Restorations of Beloved Classics or Lazy Cash-ins?

G - Joe D. and I are back to talk more video games! This time our topic is a divisive one in the gaming community: remakes. Before we get to the impact of remakes on the gaming industry, have you been playing any remakes recently? And if so, how was the experience?

Joe D. - Yes. The main game in my rotation right now is indeed a remake. Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is the sequel to Final Fantasy VII Remake, and it’s the second game of a planned trilogy. With this project, Square Enix’s Creative Business Unit 1 has split the original title into three separate games. You’ll have to play them all to experience the total experience that the original had to offer. I know this may be sacrilege as someone who has enjoyed multiple FF games in the past, but I’ve never played more than a few hours of the original VII (due to lack of funds as a kid, and as an adult finding the game didn’t age well). This is a whole new experience for me, but the buzz in the industry says that these games are doing the title justice. As a new player, I think they’re great and I look forward to seeing the story unfold. This is one of those excellent examples of how remakes can be used to bring in a new audience. How about you, any recooked releases on your plate?

G - Funny you mention that…I’ve never played FFVII, or any of the other 3D Final Fantasy games, so this is a chance for me to make up for that. And I think that’s one major benefit to remakes - in practical terms, these are new games to a lot of people. 

As for me, well, I’ve actually been playing a lot of remakes lately - but of games I did play when they were first released. I recently finished the Dead Space remake and am now about halfway through the Mass Effect Legendary Edition, which is a remastered version of the original trilogy (released on the Xbox 360). 

These are games I loved when they came out. But it’s also been a while - 16 years in the case of both Dead Space and the original Mass Effect. One interesting thing to chew on is how these games play today. Dead Space still feel current, as do Mass Effect 2 and 3. But the original Mass Effect feels like a relic from a bygone era. It was fun to revisit, the way it’s still fun to play NES games. But it also feels dated - and in that sense, I think it’s mainly going to appeal to older gamers looking for a trip down memory lane. ME2 and ME3, on the other hand, really don't feel dated at all. There are even some gameplay mechanics that other RPGs should - but haven’t - adopted. 

Here’s another thing…memory isn’t necessarily that accurate. Dead Space played almost exactly the way I remember it playing, but that hasn’t been the case at all for Mass Effect 2 or 3. I remember thinking it was the best installment in the trilogy, but didn’t even remember that there were new companions. They feel like brand new games to me in a lot of ways. 

So let’s shift to the controversy. Studios are releasing more and more remakes, but not all gamers like this trend. Are remakes a healthy or unhealthy trend?

Joe D. - Your reply to my question ties into the overall issue people are having with this new industry habit (which was heavily inspired by Sony). The dichotomy is drawn between remake and remaster. For instance, Dead Space is a complete remake, which is why it feels so good to play (so I’ve heard, it’s on my list of games to buy since I loved the original), but the original may not be so smooth. If it were just a remaster, then you may feel a bit of the clunk from the 2008 game. With the Mass Effect Trilogy remaster, you have the base 2007 game in Mass Effect, just with updated visuals and the ability to play on a modern platform. Without many updates to gameplay, it makes the game feel like a relic. You’re probably not having the same experience with Mass Effect 2 because it came out three years later when 3rd person shooters were ubiquitous in the industry and had many successful examples to learn from (Uncharted, Gears of War, inFamous, Dead Space, Resident Evil 5, etc.).

When you look at a studio like Rockstar Games, which was prolific in the PS2 era, people feel a wistfulness for the golden days of game releases from their favorite studios. In the PS2 era, Rockstar put out three Grand Theft Auto games. Since 2013, they’ve rereleased GTA V three times (the original, the PS4/XBO remaster, and the PS5/XS remaster), which has led to the creation of the meme below (ignore the punctuation). 

That’s not to say that we don’t have tons of games to play, but that’s due to there being more developers out there, especially indie devs. But the years of your favorite studio putting out four or five games in a generation are gone. Naughty Dog put out four original high-quality games on PS3, three of which were critically acclaimed; Uncharted 1-3, and The Last of Us. On PS4, that number went down to three games and two remasters; Uncharted 4 and Lost Legacy, The Last of Us Part II, and Uncharted 1-3 Remasters/The Last of Us Remastered. With PS5 we have received the incredibly well-done The Last of Us Part I remake (completely remade with stunning visuals and updated gameplay) and a remaster of TLoU Part II and Uncharted 4/Lost Legacy. No original game, and no announcement for one.

This is a signal that costs are rising and time for development is getting out of control. GTA VI is supposedly going to cost over one billion dollars to develop. To keep some of these devs afloat, they reduce the risk by releasing games they’ve already made and know sold well. Ghost of Tsushima Director’s Cut, Halo: MCC, God of War 1-3 Remastered, Gears of War Ultimate, and GTA V are just a handful of examples of this. In the case of Halo, the games had some time to stew, but Ghost of Tsushima just came out one year prior. It seems like a cash-in that could be ameliorated by adding an update to the game file, and not charging full price for each release. Some studios completely butcher their remaster, like the re-release of Grand Theft Auto: The Trilogy - Definitive Edition, which was released to a 54 Metascore, despite each individual game releasing with an over 90 meta.

On the other hand, we have faithful remakes that recapture the imagination of fans and reintroduce the original with contemporary polish. These games are usually lauded for their ability to bring the past to the present as a respectful ode to some of gaming’s favorites. These games have the budget of a new title and it shows. The Last of Us Part 1, Dead Space, Shadow of the Colossus, Demon’s Souls, and the recent Resident Evil Remakes are just a few examples.

I think the issue here is twofold. There has to be a balance between a remastered release and it’s cost to the consumer vs the release of original content. The more resources placed in these remasters (unless they’re fully outsourced), the fewer placed on new titles. Also, it doesn’t cost the developer as much to remaster something, so don’t charge us full price. The other issue is the irreverent nature of some of these re-releases. If you’re not going to do the original justice (as in the case of GTA and others), then don’t do it at all. It doesn’t help that they only keep reprinting money machines (yay bad side of  capitalism) instead of dredging up some old classics that may have done well critically, but not commercially, and bringing new life to them.

I've personally stopped buying remasters and will only get remakes. So G, have you felt like any studio has let you down or frustrated you from a lack of modern releases in favor of a re-release? Do you see this as harmful for the industry?

G - I’m probably not enough of a volume gamer to feel it personally, at least not yet - and given how long development cycles are for AAA games, it’s hard for me to truly understand the degree to which remakes distract from new titles. That said, it’s easy to see how that could be a problem; even in a best case scenario, a remake or remaster is going to take time, money and human resources that otherwise could be allocated to a new property.

But let’s look at it from the publisher’s perspective: games are just too damned expensive to make, which makes it very hard to turn a profit. Paul Tassi has written extensively about how AAA budgets are unsustainable - Sony, for example, spent $300m to make a Spiderman 2 game that was limited to PS consoles. It has apparently sold 10m copies, which is about $700m in revenue - but the margin is slimmer than it appears at first glance, because you have to consider marketing and distribution costs. Marketing alone can cost $150m for a AAA game. 

So that’s the stick. The carrot? Well, we now have almost 30 years of 3D console games to mine for quick wins. EA hasn’t released sale figures for Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, but did say it has been played by more than 20 million people. A good chunk of those are likely on Gamepass, so you have to imagine that Microsoft paid them a boatload of money to put the remastered trilogy on their subscription service. But you also have to figure that sales have been strong too. So why wouldn’t publishers want to go this route? Lower cost, faster release time - and games that have retro appeal to old gamers like ourselves and feel like new releases to the kids. 

Now, that’s a separate issue from whether this is good for the industry. My personal take is that it depends on how often publishers go to the well. Right now we are talking about a handful of beloved classics, with more on the way (including the first game I played on PS2, Max Payne). But not every game from 1997-2015 needs to be remade in 2024. 

The worry is that games will end up where film and TV already are - awash in mediocre remakes that no one asked for or wants. There will be more game remakes, guaranteed - because the incentives are too strong and because corporations have a herd mentality. And yeah, that could create a situation where new IPs get crowded out. For now, though, I’m enjoying the experience of revisiting some of my favorites from days gone by.

Joe D - Could you imagine if Mass Effect Legendary Edition completely remade the original Mass Effect game instead of simply polishing it up and bringing it to modern platforms? I think I would have moved that right to the top of my list, full cost or not. I will say though, I’m glad that Mass Effect is getting all that playtime, it certainly deserves it.

Upon reflection, I believe this to be a bigger issue for PlayStation fans specifically. As you said, it doesn’t become too much of an issue unless the companies begin dipping into the well too frequently. While most publishers seem to have a solid balance of new IP, sequels, and re-releases, Sony is relying heavily on polishing their high-quality heavy hitters for republication. The balance that PlayStation consumers had become accustomed to has been skewed significantly, making it feel like as many (or more) remakes/remasters are releasing as much as new content.

I will admit that I am pleased to see certain titles get new light shed upon them, some of which I am eager to try. Persona 3 Reload is in my sights right now. If it weren’t for Final Fantasy VII Rebirth’s cultural significance and critical performance, I would probably be playing Reload right now. Two remade games (though Rebirth is more of a modern reimagining than a 1:1 remake) are at the top of my list. Persona 3 from 2006 and Final Fantasy VII from 1997, twenty to thirty years, respectively, from their original releases, is an acceptable time frame. Unfortunately, I'm not one for nostalgia and the old days of gaming. I love cutting-edge graphics and storytelling and it's difficult for me to get into an old game I have no connection to. That's why I was never able to get through the original Final Fantasy VII when I tried to play it eight years ago (sacrilege, I know). I am thankful for the remakes with which care and respect have been afforded to the IP, they've allowed me to experience worlds I would not have otherwise.

With modern console and PC backward compatibility, anything released within the last ten years should receive a free update for a remaster. Remakes are a different story, but shouldn’t be brought out of the well unless they’ve had some time in the dark. Christopher Dring of Game Industry Biz says ten to twenty years is the sweet spot for a remake. On the flip side, in the same article, he says under five years is the best time for a remaster, especially when a new hardware platform is released. They want to catch the hype of the original game while it’s still relevant and bring it to a new audience with higher polish. It makes sense financially, but I don’t care for it.

All in all, I vote a hard yes for remakes. For remasters, just make them a free update (like they frequently do on Steam)  and only charge if there is brand-new playable content alongside the update. If someone wants a new copy, it should come at a steep discount to the original price. I’m not against the practice one hundred percent, and there are people who benefit who have never played the remastered game/franchise, but I don’t want every other announcement to be a remaster. Thoughts?

G - That would be the ideal situation for fans. But I don’t see it going that way because everyone right now needs steady revenues. Plus Mass Effect: Legendary Edition did require a lot of work - not only are the graphics optimized, but there have been some pretty significant changes to ME2 and ME3. It’s true - we are not talking remake on the scale of Dead Space, let alone Final Fantasy VII. But things have been tightened up nicely.

What I could see is Microsoft (and most likely Sony at some later date) paying for remasters that go exclusively on their streaming services. If you buy into the idea that the subscription/streaming model is going to replace physical media and perpetual licenses, which I do, this solves a big problem - making sure gamers continue to see value in the service over time.

Okay, final question - since we both like the idea of remakes, what are three 3D-era games you’d like to see remade? Here are a few that spring to mind:

1. Splinter Cell Trilogy - the best stealth games of all time. For the remake I suggest turning them into one game a la Mass Effect: Legendary Edition

2. Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay - probably the best movie spinoff game I’ve ever played

3. Deus Ex - I’ve played through this one at least 4x. Now, this would have to be a major remake, as there’s no way to remaster a game from 2000

Joe D - Great question. I’m going to give you three that I’d like to see from a nostalgic standpoint, and then a quick three that I never had the chance to play and would love to see brought to the present.

1.  Breath of Fire (especially BoF III) series by Capcom - Great turn based JRPG series with memorable stories and characters.

2. Persona 4 Golden - Completely overhauled like Persona 3 Reload.

3. Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind and IV: Oblivion - Updated visuals, combat, and waypoint systems would be fantastic.

And for three I’ve never played that I’d love to; Chrono Trigger series, Final Fantasy VI, and The Legend of Dragoon. 

Regardless of whichever remakes we get, I hope that the love and respect that went into the original titles is present on their re-release. I’d love to feel some of that magic that the original developers intended.

G - it’s funny, I almost included Skyrim in my 3, as it’s my favorite game of all time. But it did get a recent remaster, which I believe is just a graphical update - no major changes to gameplay that I’m aware of. So I’m not sure that one will be in the cards for a good decade. But who knows - maybe I’m wrong! By then we might even have a new Elder Scrolls game. 

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POSTED BY: The G--purveyor of nerdliness, genre fanatic and Nerds of a Feather founder/administrator, since 2012.

Review: Austral, by Paul McAuley

Antarctica gets its chance to be the final frontier

It is easy to forget about Antarctica. If it is on a global map, it is almost always distorted, deformed by the Mercator projection, looking like some sort of white monster lurking at the bottom of the world. It has no cities, no countries (barring the claims of a handful, and many of those claims overlap, resulting in what is essentially a frozen conflict without any leftover military bases), no human life beyond the research stations, and not much obviously apparent effect on the rest of human history. If we do remember it, it is about penguins or doomed expeditions or peculiar geopolitics or remote research stations or the new linguistic features of those researchers or the randiness of aforementioned researchers. It is a continent almost entirely forgotten in fiction, barring a Kim Stanley Robinson novel and some lovecraftian horror. In light of all that, Paul McAuley has radically reimagined the continent in his novel Austral, published in 2017 by Gollancz (I only recently discovered it, as my local library had bought it only last year).

It is in the not-too-far future (but not too near, either), and climate change has wracked the world, the haughtiness of the twentieth century giving way to the devastation of the twenty-first. To find new land, to find a new place even somewhat hospitable to human life, our species decides to terraform Antarctica, to turn it green, to make a place where Robert Falcon Scott could have thrived, and not frozen to death like he did in our world. The end result is something that feels vaguely like a science fiction-tinged western, for this is a frontier land, albeit without indigenous. There are, however, rogue terraformers, called ecopoets (derived from ‘ecopoiesis,’ although the resemblance to ‘poet’ is certainly welcome) who seek to create a more pristine environment, as opposed to a ravenous industrial economy spread from the new Antarctic cities outwards, threatening to repeat the mistakes of the past.

The end result is something that feels a bit like space opera, but is more believable than space opera, as there is no wrangling over precisely how the laws of physics are broken in regards to faster-than-light travel; people here can simply take boats to New Zealand or Argentina or Chile. To quote TVTropes, “Space Opera is an Earth-sized story lifted onto the galactic scale,” and you see how a story that could easily be set in another galaxy (perhaps a long time ago) can be brought down to Earth without losing the sense of awe and adventure.

As mentioned previously, you can see the fingerprints of Westerns in this book, although perhaps filtered through that genre’s influence on science fiction more broadly. The core of a plot is an escape through hostile wilderness, with peculiar locals who are not so much evil as they are skeptical of outsiders (and the authorities in the cities have very much given them reason to be wary). Beyond the cities, Antarctica is inhabited by hardy frontier people, with the remnants of a cooperative, communal culture here and there, particularly in shelters known only by hints in the nature, an argot of signs known only to ecopoets and their ilk.

The protagonists, too, are out of a Western. Your main character is a woman, down on her luck, who falls in with a criminal gang, partially out of raw fiduciary need and partially out of her status as a person modified in the womb to better survive the harsh Antarctic climate (she is called an animal by non-modified humans, and she retorts that all her added genes are from different human groups, such the Inuit, that have adaptations to cold climates). She is assigned on a criminal job when she takes pity on the daughter of a magnate, and whisks her away, fleeing both the government and her former criminal compatriots, hoping to exchange this teenage girl for a handsome ransom. There’s a combination of hardy self-interest and human kindness in her, which makes her a protagonist with enjoyable depths. It is, in a sense, the dichotomy between ‘civilization’ and ‘barbarism’ within one person, although it is interesting to note that both positive and negative elements come from the cities. There are other characters, too, one with a maverick swagger blended seamlessly with a callousness that renders him all too believable, which adds to the narrative tapestry.

I do wonder, though, upon writing this review, that the whole thing does feel sort of like a ‘guilt-free colonialism’ scenario, although in such a scenario there would not be anything to be guilty over in contrast to, say, the American Old West, and the continental genocide that unfolded during that period. The closest analogues to the indigenous are the rogue ecopoets, very much in touch with nature, with a love and connection that may have echoes of stereotypes to certain readers. In this regard, it repeats the sin, if you want to call it that, of a lot of space opera, but I’m not sure how much blame McAuley really deserves; it certainly does not strike me as deliberate. As I said in my review of Space Craze, Margaret Weitekamp’s history of American science fiction, it’s a matter of assumptions more than conscious choices.

Austral is an update of an older narrative form for the gun barrel that is climate change that we all have no choice but to stare down. It is fun, it is human, and its speculations feel ever so believable. I can see something like this happening in the future, although I hope, for all our sakes, that the rest of the world doesn’t become so hostile that we need to terraform Antarctica to dig ourselves out of it. Penguins deserve nice things too.

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The Math:

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

POSTED BY: Alex Wallace, alternate history buff who reads more than is healthy.

Review: 3 Body Problem Season 1

Netflix's adaption of Liu Cixin's Hugo Award-winning novel succeeds thanks to Benioff & Weiss making necessary changes to the story to make it more human — all without sacrificing the science and complexity of the original text.

Liu Cixin's The Three-Body Problem won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards in 2015, garnering acclaim the world over for his ambitious and highly scientific ideas. For years, rumors of adapting it to the screen swirled, with many expressing skepticism about the practicality of adapting the worldbuilding, complex technology, and vast epochs of time to the screen.

When Netflix tapped David Benioff and D.B. Weiss as showrunners — known to the world as the wildly successful duo who brought us Game of Thrones — they upped the ante. Bringing in these two was a declaration of incredible intent, demonstrating that Netflix was going to give this adaptation the full weight and force of money, talent, and special effects to the tune of $20 million per episode. But perhaps more importantly, choosing the Game of Thrones showrunners meant by proxy that they would be able do something very crucial: focus on the human aspect of the story — something that Liu's novel was lacking. 

I and my Hugo, Girl podcast co-hosts read The Three-Body Problem a few years back. As I started the first episode, I realized that I only could remember the broadest of strokes of the plot — aliens, the Chinese revolution, and extraordinary extraterrestrial technology. I went back and listened to the episode as a refresher and my initial take back then was "incredible science fiction with mindblowing ideas and concepts, but the characters were as flat as pancakes and completely dull." 

This makes sense why I couldn't remember much of the tiny details. It appears that the showrunners did as well. There are great changes to the smaller aspects of the story in Netflix's adaptation, much like what happened in Game of Thrones. That wildly popular show often succeeded because of its complex characters — the persistence of Jon Snow, the evolution of Sansa Stark from waif to cold-blooded heroine, the incredibly unlikeable yet somehow still sympathetic Cersei Lannister. George R.R. Martin's prose can be divisive (I could never get into it, despite multiple attempts with multiple books), but the show succeeded in many ways because of the adaptation of its characters to the screen. I'm not even much of a fantasy fan, but Game of Thrones hooked me in for all eight seasons. And even though Benioff & Weiss lost the thread by the last season (poor Danerys), the first five seasons are classics of 21st century prestige TV.

A Brief Plot Overview

This first season spans about 50 years, beginning with a woman named Ye Wenji who witnesses her father's death during a struggle session in China during the Cultural Revolution. She ends up at a work camp, but thanks to her background in physics, is sent to an isolated station to work on China's equivalent of SETI. She receives a message from extraterrestrial life forms who warn her not to respond — but owing to her deep dissatisfaction with life on Earth and skepticism of human progress and growth, essentially says "come on down." This sets in motion the approach of the Tri-Solaran species towards Earth.

In the present day, human scientists across the globe are dying by suicide, including members of a tight-knit group of physicists. These individuals receive secretive and suspicious packages containing VR headsets with technology decades beyond what humans are currently capable of. The game features immersive experiences meant to solve a society's three-body problem — because of the setup of their solar system, they live and die according to stable and chaotic eras. 

It turns out, however, that this is not just a game. The society is actually real, and these Tri-Solarans (so named for their three suns), have fled their solar system and are on the way to ours seeking refuge and a more consistent life. They'll be here in 400 years, and it's unclear if there's anything we can do to stop them.

Here on Earth, we've figured out what's happening, and there are two warring factions. One that seeks to prevent this takeover, and one, the secretive Earth-Trisolaran Organization (ETO) that's a fifth column working to aid the aliens in their takeover. I'll leave the plot details here so as to avoid major spoilers, but the story revolves around how present-day humankind must face this 400-year distant threat, including how we act now, how we prepare logistically, and how we look for hope. It's also important to note that season one starts to crib early from the second book in this trilogy, The Dark Forest. 

What Works

If it's not extremely apparent, a lot is happening in season one, but it never seems overwhelming. But by adding in new characters — and making them likable, complex, and oftentimes funny — it narrows in the scope of huge, world-quaking issues to make them more manageable. Science fiction can sometimes feel cold and sterile, but by slowing the show down and letter characters breathe and be messy, it makes it more human. It makes the dreaded sci-fi infodump less of a one-time discharge and more of an evenly distributed and consistent sprinkling, like how the inmates in The Great Escape get ride of tunnel dirt by the pocketful.

The graphics and visual storytelling are also stellar. The book is filled with huge, galaxy-sized ideas and technology, and a big chunk of the plot occurs inside of a video game. Much like the challenge of adapting Ready Player One, taking parts of The Three-Body Problem and switching effortlessly between a virtual world and the real one took some thought, and they pulled it off with aplomb. 

Another great example of adapting high-tech physics to the screen was with the sophons. The Trisolarans, in a last-ditch effort to control Earth from 400 light years away on their slow approach to our planet, devote the last of their time and resources to creating sophons — an extremely advanced nanotechnology that allows them to create 11-dimensional supercomputers that can control things on Earth. 

Plotwise, they're essentially deus ex machinas, as they're so advanced that they do nearly anything: make humans die by suicide, manipulate camera film, and more. I thought it would be nearly impossible to depict these tiny things visually, but they pull it off. 

There's been talk that this show hasn't quite met Netflix's ambitious expectations, and that because of this, the subsequent production of the planned sequel seasons may be in doubt. I hope that this isn't true, because this has such grand potential of epic storytelling to come. Most TV shows take place over a few years at best., but 3-Body Problem is so grand in scope that it's  building up centuries of planning and anticipation, and I think the story deserves to be told. 

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The Math

Baseline Score: 8/10

Bonuses: The graphics are fantastic (especially the depiction of sophons); the primary friend group of scientists are very likable; Ser Davos Seaworth the Onion Knight, the High Sparrow and Samwell Tarly are GoT stars that have big roles in season 1; the nanofiber destruction of the ship in the Panama canal is one of the coolest TV sequences I've ever seen; some incredible needle drops help underscore the emotional heft of key scenes.

Penalties: The ideas presented are complex and full of hard science — I think Benioff & Weiss took a big swing reaching for mass appeal beyond genre fans, but it may still be a bit too intense and intellectual for an average TV view clicking around for an easy watch.

POSTED BY: Haley Zapal, new NoaF contributor and lawyer-turned-copywriter living in Atlanta, Georgia. A co-host of Hugo Award-winning podcast Hugo, Girl!, she posts on Instagram as @cestlahaley. She loves nautical fiction, growing corn and giving them pun names like Timothee Chalamaize, and thinking about fried chicken.

Review: Camp Confidential

Is it worth going to the stars if the launch pad is made of skulls?

At first hunch something feels distinctly wrong about an animated documentary - animation is obviously an abstraction of reality, in one way or another, and documentaries are supposed to capture reality directly, as impossible that can be; even photographs are distortions of reality, for the world is not still. Hence the idea of Netflix’s short documentary Camp Confidential was intriguing to me. It involves a peculiar secret project of the US Army during World War II, directly tied into the tension within the Allies that would spiral into the Cold War.

Camp Confidential is a short, slim documentary, a little over a half hour; it’s easy to watch, and won’t dominate an evening. In a way, the animated format makes it more accessible; not all of us have watched black-and-white footage in documentaries regularly, but most of us have watched cartoons, at least as children (but ever more so as the century goes on, as adult animation is more respected), and so there’s a certain degree of familiarity. The art style feels like a brighter version of an old war comic, lighter than squalid grimness but never becoming openly childish.

When you start the short film, you will quickly see live-action footage of interviews with elderly men who are the last survivors of what this film calls ‘camp confidential,’ a top-secret American military facility outside Washington D.C. By virtue of their experience, their age, and the exalted place to which modern America has elevated their generation (it’s not the ‘greatest generation’ for nothing), they are intimidating figures. You see the tape recorders warming up, the interviewer asking these venerable veterans several questions, first to set the scene, and then to move the story along.

Both of these men are Jewish. Indeed, the men profiled by this documentary were almost all Jewish, many who successfully got out of Europe before Nazism killed them (one says he was on the literal last ship before the war brought trans-Atlantic shipping grinding to a halt). Many members of their respective families were not so lucky (I’m reminded of the Austrian Jews who killed themselves after the Anschluss). These men, having fled to America, enlisted in the US Army, by virtue of revenge or principle or the draft card, were selected for this job for one reason: they all spoke German. One of them is depicted as reciting Goethe to an American officer, who waves him away, to be sent to this nameless place in the woods of Maryland.

It is from that ominous beginning that the true brilliance of the storytelling here begins to shine. The narrative scaffolding comes from the interviews, and the color of the experience, the je ne sais quoi of seeing, of feeling, rather than just reading or hearing, comes from the animation. There is an ultimate verisimilitude that derives from the interviews, of being in the ‘presence’ of such men, with such experiences, that grounds the film, but the animation, as odd as this sounds, makes you feel like you’re there.

It is only after some time that the mission that these young men have been assigned to is revealed: they are ordered to befriend German scientists who have been captured by the Allies to get information out of them. In pure linguistic terms, this makes sense, because they all speak German, but they are all quickly revolted by having to be friendly with the people who have profited off of the cold-blooded murder of their families and co-religionists. What follows is a wild ride, sometimes uproariously funny, but other times absolutely enraging.

It is a saying among some in international relations scholarship that states are not moral entities. They are algorithms, in a sense, pursuing blunt material objectives over any moral code (see how Russia, in Tsarist, Soviet, or Federal guise, has struggled and raged for a warm-water port for which to base its navy). As such, things like ‘freedom’ and ‘democracy’ are in some sense mere propaganda. In any case, there is a question of ends justifying the means; some of these men have fun with the assignment, tormenting the Nazis in their own petty ways, and how this results finding Peenemunde, the German rocket testing range and development facility on the namesake island in the Baltic Sea, and its destruction by Allied bombers. One of the men remarks that this seemed like deserved comeuppance.

But this becomes ever more fraught, as if it weren’t already, by the transformation of their duties from interrogators to ushers: they must make these evil men accepting of America, so that they may aid America in its missile development in its arms race with the Soviet Union. As Germany was divided, as northern Iran and Greece and Korea became flashpoints of a new global order, America was more than happy to look beyond simple things like ‘war crimes’ and ‘genocide’ to exploit German scientists in its weapons development, and to use relatives of victims to ease them into their new role.

One of cleverest part of the documentary, as well as one of its most poignant, is its portrayal of Wernher von Braun, whose amoral dedication to science is commemorated in an amusing Tom Lehrer song. He is introduced as something of a cartoon villain, arriving on a boat on a literal dark and stormy night, complete with suitably sinister black coat and a flash of lightning. This obviously evil, othering portrayal slowly changes over the course of the documentary, mirroring the other Nazis; at first, you are seduced into believing that good, noble America could never bend to these men, but you eventually realize that there are far more commonalities between them. After all, Hitler said that “the Volga shall be our Mississippi,” reflecting an admiration of the vicious reality of America rather than its liberal propaganda; the idea of lebensraum was patterned quite explicitly after Manifest Destiny. It is in this awful convergence, this amoral concordance, that these men have been thrown into without much warning, and not much care for their feelings or well-being.

Camp Confidential is a warning for us in an age of high technology. In little more than half an hour, this film shows you the meaning of my favorite quote from Martin Luther King Jr. (which I confess to have learned from Civilization V):

“Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.”

This film is an investigation into what ends justify what means. Was the space program worth it, if it used the graves of Jewish slave laborers as stepping stones to the stars? The film does not answer this question definitively, but it forces you to see, in excruciating detail, how the sausage was made.

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The Math:

Nerd Coefficient: 10/10

POSTED BY: Alex Wallace, alternate history buff who reads more than is healthy.

Review [Video Game]: Concrete Genie by Pixelopus

Paint some murals, save some lives.

Concrete Genie follows protagonist Ash as he tries to rid his old hometown of Denska of an encroaching darkness that threatens to pervade all. It is evident that the darkness is tied to the negativity that the old fishing village has had to endure over the last number of years, and despite its ugliness, Ash still waxes nostalgic over Denska. And then there are the bullies. In the opening moments of the game, Ash’s binder of drawings is scattered by a bunch of mischievous kids who torture him for no reason. Despite his parents’ warnings about the dangers of the town, Ash still tempts fate and finds himself in a pickle.

Concrete Genie is one of those unique “indie” games in that it isn’t indie at all. With the backing of Sony, Pixelopus released a smaller-scale title that feels like an upscale indie game. In combination with Media Molecule’s Dreams technology, Pixelopus set out to create something unique, and for the most part, they did.

The gameplay could best be described as a puzzle platformer, where you have to solve simple puzzles to proceed. There’s never much difficulty in the game and I never found myself stuck on any part for too long. It doesn't hurt that the platforming works well, so you don’t have to struggle with those controls. You can summon genies at specific parts of the map and it’s up to you to appease them with the help of your trusty paintbrush. The game gives you a preset number of designs (which you can find more of as you play through the game). You use these to create murals and bypass certain areas. These are the main forms of puzzles you will encounter, and while they don’t present much of a challenge, they are dazzling and unique. The colors and combinations can delight the senses, and it’s fun to watch your genies play with your paintings. Using your art to light up a district and bring color back to the town is an enjoyable treat. In tandem with the already striking claymation/stop motion visual feel, the game is visually entrancing.

For a game about being an artist, there isn’t much in the way of personal artistic expression due to the exclusive use of pre-selected designs. Don’t get me wrong, the options given are better than anything I could personally create, but it would be wonderful to see what other people could do with the tools, especially considering Pixelopus used Dreams tech to help create the game. It seems like a bit of a missed opportunity.

The “painting” is done with the Dualshock 4 or DualSense (depending on which platform you're on) controller’s motion sensor. While the sensor works well for what they want to do, it sometimes goes out of whack, which pulls me out of the game for a moment so I can recalibrate. Sometimes traditional controls work just fine, and in most cases, are even more precise. Despite this, there are no strict specifics that the player needs to adhere to when creating art (the closest things are the murals that you have to recreate), so the pressure to be extremely accurate doesn’t exist. This doesn't completely alleviate the occasional break in immersion due to the motion controls, but it does ameliorate it for the most part.

The story is a simple tale of bullying. It’s effective though not very unique. Not blaming oneself and forgiving others is a record that’s been played before. The use of the art to move the game forward is where the game’s charm comes in and brings in a different flavor. Though some of the world’s magic rules feel inconsistent or make no sense at times, it isn’t a game that’s meant to be thought on too much. It’s more a game of emotion than one of the mind, so suspending belief within its world was necessary at times to accept certain events.

An interesting change happens later in the game where we go from a puzzle platformer to a straight-up action game. The change is rather abrupt and takes much of what makes the game unique and turns it into a basic action game. It isn’t necessarily poor, but it doesn’t do anything so worthwhile that the shift is warranted. I think it would have been more impressive if the studio used the tools they had to solve the game’s problems without turning to a different genre. That said, getting the paint boots made getting around in the game significantly more enjoyable.

Though I didn’t run into any glitches on my playthrough of the main story, I did encounter a few in my cleanup run. I wanted to get all the collectibles and see Luna’s secret under the lighthouse, but a bug prevented me from doing so. Another bug prevented me from discovering all the genie moments in the game. So while there were no game breakers, there were a few completion ruining incidents, so keep it in mind if you don’t want to play through the game multiple times.

Being Pixelopus’s second game, Concrete Genie showed a lot of promise for future titles. Unfortunately, Sony closed the studio in the summer of 2023, ceasing any thoughts of possible projects from the studio. Despite some of my misgivings with the game, it does what it sets out to do and more; it shows that big publishers should take more small-time risks because they can pay off with quality content. Concrete Genie may only take a handful of hours to complete, but it’s flashy and memorable and shows that we don’t need every game to have a budget of one hundred million dollars to be enjoyable. Painting dazzling landscapes across Deska is an enjoyable experience. Concrete Genie isn’t perfect, but I found it to be endearing and worth a few hours of my time.

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The Math

Objective Assessment: 7/10

Bonus: +1 for unique gameplay. +1 for visual splendor.

Penalties: -1 for end-game gameplay shift. -1 for genie glitches and bugs.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Posted by: Joe DelFranco - Fiction writer and lover of most things video games. On most days you can find him writing at his favorite spot in the little state of Rhode Island.

Thank You

The finalists for the 2024 Hugo Awards have been announced and for a seventh time nerds of a feather, flock together is among the shortlisted fanzines.

Friends, this is a staggeringly immense honor and one which we do not take for granted for a single minute. Nerds of a Feather was so incredibly fortunate to have previously won the Hugo Award for Best Fanzine and to continue to be considered is incredible. We recognize that we are part of a much larger community of fans who engage with our genre’s conversation across blogs, zines, newsletters, podcasts, booktube, all forms of social media, and any time two people get together to nerd out about something awesome. We are honored to be recognized for our contributions.

Nerds of a Feather exists and is what it is because of the work of our flock of editors and writers: Adri Joy, Alex Wallace, Ann Michelle Harris, Arturo Serrano, Chris Garcia, Clara Cohen, Dean E.S. Richard, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, Haley Zapal, Joe DelFranco, Joe Sherry, Paul Weimer, Phoebe Wagner, Roseanna Pendlebury, The G, and Vance Kotrla. This collective has, day in and day out, delivered excellence in genre writing and we could not be prouder of this team. They are Nerds of a Feather.

We would like to give a special thanks to our readers and supporters within the community. Without you, we never make it here - not even once. We would certainly never have received a Hugo Award without you. Thank you. Thank you for nominating nerds of a feather, flock together. It means so much more than we can possibly express. It means everything.

That being said, we acknowledge that, this year, there is a shadow cast over the awards from the many issues that came to light from the 2023 Hugos. We have talked about that more here and here, and by no means want to sweep those (significant) problems under the rug, simply because a new year of awards has rolled around. We are particularly glad to see that our own Paul Weimer has made his way onto the ballot, after his unjust disqualification.

But we are happy to be nominated. We are so so grateful to the people who nominated us for that honor. But that does not diminish our determination to be part of a solution, to ensure that what happened in 2023 does not happen again. We also want to congratulate every single one of the other nominees, but in particular, congratulations to our own Chris Garcia and our friends at Journey Planet for their fanzine nomination - as always, we are delighted to share a category with you all.

Nerds of a Feather is also an international team, spread around a number of countries across the world. For several of our number who are based in the UK, it is particularly thrilling to receive this nomination for a Worldcon taking place in Glasgow, on our home turf so to speak, and to have the opportunity to attend knowing a number of our friends and family will be there enjoying the con with us.

- Joe, Adri, Roseanna, Arturo, Paul, Vance, & The G