Category Archives: Book Review – Fiction

Michael Graves’s linear cities

I had forgotten about this idea for long, linear cities laid out along transportation corridors.

It’s interesting. I’m a little skeptical for a few reasons. First, I can imagine it being a cold, corporate world. Who would own the buildings and transportation systems? From my little row house I can walk in many different directions and engage in many different activities on little parcels of land owned or controlled by many different entities. Would this linear city be more like living in a mall, where everything is ultimately controlled by one owner and sanitized for my protection? Also, a line is by definition a one-dimensional world – in a linear city it seems to me like I would have only two choices of direction and that sounds boring. Although the prospect of being close to a natural or agricultural landscape is intriguing. A final concern would be the capacity of the transportation system. As the city keeps getting longer indefinitely, it seems like you might come up against a finite transportation capacity and bottlenecks could develop in the system.

I’m also reminded about a couple works of science fiction, both of which are dystopian. Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash is laid out along “linear cities” that are definitely not cold, corporate, sanitary or mall like (or safe). They are more like trashy interstate truck stops. Paul McAuley’s Invisible Country alludes to enormous “ribbon arcologies” where most people live. They don’t have to work because they have slaves, so apparently they spend most of their time tripping on drugs and virtual reality, and don’t really go out much. So the linear city is an interesting idea, but we need to be a little cautious how it unfolds.

National Geographic on the California drought

Here is National Geographic weighing in on snowpack, drought, and climate change in the western U.S.:

As in most of the rest of the American West, fortunes depend less on how much precipitation falls from the sky than how much of it falls as snow and how long that snow stays in the mountains. Despite the occasional severe winters, western snowpacks have declined in recent decades, and key researchers expect the trend to accelerate. “Warmer winters are reducing the amount of snow stored in the mountains, and they’re causing snowpacks to melt earlier in the spring,” says Philip Mote, director of the Oregon Climate Change Research Institute at Oregon State University. Shrinking snowpacks and earlier snowmelts mean—in practical terms—that the region faces a persistent and worsening drought.

They talk about the parallels with Australia, which has faced similar issues and seemingly handled them better:

Australia’s Big Dry, a decade-long drought that began around the start of this century, led at first to the same kind of political bickering heard recently in California. But after years of environmental destruction, urban water stress, and great suffering by many dryland farmers, Australian politicians—and farmers—took some serious risks. “At the peak of the drought, it became very apparent that the environment doesn’t lie,” says Mike Young, a professor at the University of Adelaide who was active in the country’s drought response. Australia reduced urban water use by investing billions in conservation, education, and efficiency improvements. Most important, it began to reform the old water allocation system, which, like California’s, had promised specific amounts of water to rights holders. The country instituted a system that guaranteed a minimum supply of water for the environment, then divided the remainder into shares that could be quickly sold and traded—or stored for the next season. Farmers fought the changes, but with a financial incentive to use less water, they soon got more creative and more efficient. Water use dropped, and though consumption has risen since the drought eased in 2010, it remains below pre-drought levels in towns and cities.

I wonder if any other cultures have ever dealt with something like this. From Wikipedia:

Ancient Pueblo peoples, Ancestral Pueblo peoples, or Ancestral Puebloans were an ancient Native American culture centered on the present-day Four Corners area of the United States, comprising southern Utah, northeastern Arizona, northern New Mexico, and southwestern Colorado.[1] They lived in a range of structures, including pit houses, pueblos, and cliff dwellings designed so that they could lift entry ladders during enemy attacks, which provided security. Archaeologists sometimes refer to the unique set of material culture remains as “Anasazi”, although the term is not preferred by contemporary Pueblo peoples and often loosely used as a name for the occupants…

After approximately 1150, North America experienced significant climatic change in the form of a 300-year drought called the Great Drought. This also led to the collapse of the Tiwanaku civilization around Lake Titicaca in present-day Bolivia.[22] The contemporary Mississippian culture also collapsed during this period…

In this later period, the Pueblo II became more self-contained, decreasing trade and interaction with more distant communities. Southwest farmers developed irrigation techniques appropriate to seasonal rainfall, including soil and water control features such as check dams and terraces. The population of the region continued to be mobile, abandoning settlements and fields under adverse conditions. Along with the change in precipitation patterns, there was a drop in water table levels due to a different cycle unrelated to rainfall. This forced the abandonment of settlements in the more arid or over-farmed locations.[citation needed]

Evidence suggests a profound change in religion in this period. Chacoan and other structures constructed originally along astronomical alignments, and thought to have served important ceremonial purposes to the culture, were systematically dismantled. Doorways were sealed with rock and mortar. Kiva walls show marks from great fires set within them, which probably required removal of the massive roof – a task which would require significant effort. Habitations were abandoned, tribes split and divided and resettled far elsewhere.

Uh oh, so it looks like times got a little crazy, and people started burning stuff down. Hopefully we can do better than this. From what I know, this was a fairly urban, densely settled, agricultural civilization. When water got scarce, they probably just dispersed. Back then, there was a fair amount of open space to disperse in. I’m not so sure that is going to work for us, unless we are talking about spaceships.

By the way, if you happen to be interested in a story where a whole civilization goes crazy and starts burning shit down, try this:
Nightfall

By the way, this is a novel based on a short story old enough to be in the public domain, which someone has posted online here.

the cyborg moths are finally here!

Well, they’re finally here – the cyborg moth slaves. First it was cockroaches and I didn’t say much because, well, they’re cockroaches. But moths – they’re just one step from butterflies, and it just doesn’t seem like you should do this to butterflies. From butterflies the obvious next step is Paul Mcauley’s cyborg baboon-human hybrids. If you read his book of short stories The Invisible Country, it is not until about the second page that you start to think this sort of technology could raise some ethical issues.

 

California by Edan Lepucki

California: A Novel

Here’s a new entry in the apocalyptic fiction genre: California by Edan Lepucki. I haven’t read the book yet, only a review in the New York Times. Anyway here is what the NYT has to say:

…characters traverse a cross-section of mid-collapse landscape, framed by the gradual decline of civilization. This approach may seem too optimistic given dire news about melting icecaps and acidic oceans, but it does allow for a reading of the novel as satire, skewering the elements of modern life that have brought us to this tipping point…

Perhaps the world as we know it will indeed end this way for many Americans: terrified of porcupines, longing for the sound of S.U.V.s, unable to ­distinguish between an artifact and a keepsake, helped to find temporary sanctuary by the last black man on earth. If it does, we won’t be able to say that “California” didn’t warn us.

There’s also something about a turkey baster. Hmm…I’m not sure this will immediately float to the top of my reading list.