Elizabeth Bear

In the first volume in a new trilogy by the award-winning author of Undertow and Carnival, a wandering space colony struggles to survive and to retain order as it orbits a doomed sun. Original.

Dust

Bryan Alexander

Dust is a striking and elegantly told generation ship novel.

The plot combines a coming of age story with a political tale. Our heroine, Rien, begins as truly nothing (the French meaning of her name): a kind of scullery maid, family-less and working for a somewhat deranged faction. She connects with a prisoner of war, a semi-human interloper, and begins her ascent to growth, understanding, and even power. Meanwhile, human factions scheme and move against each other, while the starship's old AIs conduct their own plots. Underneath this all the Jacob's Ladder is decaying, perhaps dangerously so.

A classic generation ship trope is that of inhabitants believing they are in one world, only to discover through a kind of Plato's cave shock that they actually dwell in a void-crossing spacecraft. The 1970s tv series The Starlost and its, ah, related Harlan Ellison novel Phoenix Without Ashes offer good examples of this. In Dust we have something close to that, as Rien - and the writing around her - portray a kind of medieval world with touches of fantasy or science. Part of Rien's character arc involves a degree of disillusionment or genre switching.

The fantasy/medieval world is set up carefully. Names come from the European romance, the Bible, and the British Arthurian tradition. We have quests across magical fields and artifacts with magic powers. There's a necromancer who uses something like nanotechnology or smart matter and nobles wielding magic (advanced tech) swords. Archaic or fantasy language and spelling crops up: domaine. And some awareness of being within a fantasy:Rien managed to lift her head and repeat herself: “Orphans. Dream of being secret princesses.” 
Perceval’s thumbs made firm circles in Rien’s muscles. “And so?” she said. “You are.” (118)And she is.
“Space,” Rien said. “Is that why they’re squabbling over her? They’re trying to marry an heir to the throne? I’m sorry, Tristen, but that’s like some medieval play.” (196)And yet that is the plot in question.
 
Bear really works that genre switching well. Aristocrats are not only more powerful, but have physical changes and affordances denied their minions, in a classic science fiction literalized metaphor. 

Dust offers progressive gender politics. First, this is a very gynocentric tale, with women and women's experiences taking center stage. Second, there are some non-binary characters and classes, along with asexuality as a kind of body programming. Third, a lesbian romance is at the story's heart.

It is also very nicely told. Bear doesn't offer infodumps, instead letting us bit by bit into the world's lived experience. And she offers some fine sentences: "From long gashes between her shoulder blades, two azure ropes of blood groped down her back, across her spine." (3) 

I was fascinated by the strict class politics in Dust. Socio-economic separation, skill specialization, and advanced technology have led to a carefully reinforced caste system. It's interesting to see contemporary American sf raise such systems as problems, and Bear uses her multiple genres to good effect. Science fiction devices enable the castes, and fantasy, especially the swords-and-sorcery vein, often either simply establishes or quietly celebrates class divides. Dust scries into America's imagination and its material conditions. Note that Rien ascends along the (Jacob's) class ladder. Such is where American class politics often ends up - and did before Occupy, Sanders, and Ocasio-Cortez.

Recommended. I'm looking forward to the sequels.

Dust

Reviews