I've been away for some time. I must be
honest: I've read at least five other books since the last entry, not
including the five that I read for this entry. So that's ten books
I've read since the last entry. A little far afield of my original
resolution, but four of those books were books of critical readings
of Doctor Who episodes (collected and expanded from the excellent
TARDIS Eruditorum blog, along with several book-exclusive essays) and
reviewing reviews just wouldn't make for interesting reading. The
other was Looking for Alaska
by John Green, which I read in an afternoon before I wrapped it up as
a Christmas present for my brother. An excellent book, and it may
warrant a review from me at some point, but for this entry I am going
to proceed with the original mission statement and review the next
book on my list.
However,
this book was rather incorrectly treated by me as one book when it is
in fact five (or maybe four or even just three - we'll get to that).
The reason for this is that I have only ever owned these books in an
omnibus edition. First from the Science Fiction Book Club (a copy
read so many times the binding tore apart in two places) and then
from Barnes & Noble's leather bound classics series. Even when I
initially read these books, one at a time from the library, I treated
them as one book. At that age I tended to approach all serialized
media as a singular object. I still think there's some merit to that
view, but I also think all approaches should be considered, including
viewing each text on its own.
This
is still problematic, though. The first two books are basically one
story that's been split between two books, the third is adapted from
a Doctor Who script that never got made, the fourth was a rush job
that creates all kind of continuity problems, and the fifth creates
even more continuity problems, then implicitly (although in no way
explicitly) fixes both its and the fourth books problems before
ending in the most cynical way it could.
Oh,
shit. I forgot to tell you what I'm writing about. It's the
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series
by the late, great Douglas Adams.
I read
this book to death when I was fourteen. And yes, I say book, because
at the time that's how I viewed it. The cover says “trilogy,” and
by g-d if it calls itself a trilogy, then it must be one big story,
no matter how many books it's actually split into. So I never
bothered to differentiate any of the books from the others. I suspect
that others don't, either. You'd be surprised how many jokes people
remember from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
that are actually from The Restaurant at the End of the
Universe.
That,
I suppose, is where I should begin. The first two books aren't really
two books. I mean, they're published separately, but the first book
just kind of ends mid action, with none of its dangling plot threads
resolved. It was adapted from a radio serial also by Douglas Adams,
and I believe that the serial itself roughly covers the events of
both books. I have not listened to them, so I cannot be certain, but
that is the impression I get. So we have a story originally told in
one go (albeit serialized for radio) and then adapted and published
as two novels. What I'm saying is that there are actually four books
to the Hitchhiker's
trilogy, not five.
As a
novel, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Restaurant at the End
of the Universe is very loose
and fast. Adams is less interested in telling a coherent story than
he is in making constant humorous asides to the audience. That isn't
to suggest that the plot and characterization isn't there, it just
isn't the focus. And that's fine! It makes for fun reading most of
the time, although occasionally Adams will make an aside mid action
and spend entirely too many words setting up the punchline, killing
whatever tension had been built previously. But all things
considered, this novel deserves its classic status and is essential
reading to anyone with a sense of humor or interest in science
fiction.
The
third second novel is where I began to break away from my
fifteen-year-long treatment of the series as a singular object. Not only is there a clean break in action between Restaurant
and Life, the Universe, and Everything,
but I had knowledge that I did not have when I was fourteen. You see,
when I was fourteen the only thing I knew about Doctor Who was that
there was a reference book about it in the section at the library
that had all the Star Wars and Star Trek reference books, and that
the guy on the cover had a terrible fashion sense. That man was Colin
Baker, and in the years since then I have become enough of a Doctor
Who obsessive to know that the costume wasn't his fault, really, nor
the poor scripts of his era, and that his Big Finish audio adventures
do quite a lot to rescue the Sixth Doctor from his bad reputation.
Along
with that knowledge comes the knowledge that Douglas Adams grew up
watching William Hartnell (who had an episode with intelligent mice,
as it turns out) and that he grew up to be a writer and script editor
for the program. And not only that, Life, the Universe, and
Everything was adapted from a
script he wrote for a Doctor Who movie that was never made, to have been
titled Doctor Who and the Krikkit Men.
Knowing this about Douglas Adams had already recoloured my experience
reading the first novel in the series, looking for little references
that tie the universes of Arthur Dent and the Doctor together, and it
completely shattered how I read the third second. Because Life,
the Universe, and Everything
just might be the best Doctor Who story that was never made. It's a damned shame that we never got to see Tom Baker run around
opposing killer robot Cricket players, or flying on a ship that runs
on Bistromathematics, finally to confront that age old question of
the difference between pacifism and inaction. But, alas, at least we
have this novel. Possibly the best of the series from the standpoint
of being a novel. It balances the humor, characters, and plot while
also having something to say. This is a level the series won't reach
again.
Because
the next book is So Long and Thanks for all the Fish.
Written in a rush after several deadlines came and went, it has all
the markings of a first draft by a writer who just didn't want to
write it. It doesn't have a story so much as a series of events that
just sort of happen to Arthur Dent. The Earth returns with no
explanation, and Arthur falls in love, which is nice, I guess. There
are two things that save it: the humor is still pretty strong. Not as
strong as it's been, but strong enough to keep the pages turning. The
second thing is the ending. If this novel exists only as a preamble
to the final chapter, then it is worth it, because the final chapter
might be the best thing Douglas Adams ever wrote. After wandering
away from the Earth for reasons, Arthur and Fenchurch travel to find
“God's Last Message to His Creation.” On the way they find a
malfunctioning Marvin, near the end of his power cells. They take him
with them to the message, and how that unfolds is simultaneously
hilarious, heart-breaking, and comforting. I won't spoil for you what
the final message is, but if there actually were a g-d and he really
did leave this message, I just might find it in myself to forgive
him.
The
series ends with Mostly Harmless.
It's funny while also being incredibly cynical, but its strongest
point is the characterization. More than at any point in the series,
the characters feel like people and not just comic archetypes. Hell,
it even manages to pass the Bechdel test on the way. Ford Prefect
finally coalesces into the character one feels he should have been
the whole time: a cross between the Doctor and Hunter Thompson.
The
plot is the most complicated of the series, although that is not
entirely a fault. Implicit in many of the things that happen is an
explanation to just what the hell was going on in So Long:
all the shit that doesn't make sense in that book was probably just
the Vogon-created Guide messing with time and space to bring about the events of
Mostly Harmless. The
book doesn't come out and say that, but it's solid enough of an
explanation to make me want to treat So Long
as an extended prologue to Mostly Harmless.
So looked at that way, there are actually... three... books... in the
Hitchhiker's trilogy.
How's that for messing with your count?
I
won't spoil the ending of Mostly Harmless,
but it ends very finally, and later in his life Douglas Adams
expressed regret at ending the series the way he did. He wrote some
notes, but never finished the sixth novel before his death in 2001.
This hypothetical sixth novel was finally written by Eoin Colfer in
2009, although I haven't read it. I don't feel a need to. I disagree
with Adams about the ending to Mostly Harmless.
Yes, it is bitter and cynical, but it is bitter and cynical in a way
that is an essential lesson about the uncaring and meaningless nature
of the universe. And it touches, at least in theme, on one bastion of
science fiction Adams never got around to skewering: Lovecraft.
The
Hitchhiker series is
not as perfect as my nostalgia would have told me. I read it a bunch
as a teenager, but until now hadn't revisited it. As an adult with a
more refined taste, I can see all kind of criticisms that I just
wouldn't have thought of when I first read it. But despite these, the
series remains a classic. I recommend it to anyone with a pulse.
*
And
now some business. I may be changing the order of my reading, which
would affect what the next book is. If we are to continue
alphabetically, the next book is Watership Down
by Richard Adams. However, as established by my mention of Looking
for Alaska, I am a fan of John
Green, and by extension his various youtube ventures. I recently
became aware of his “Crash Course: Literature” series, and with
the second series of that starting soon I kind of want to follow
along. But that would require doing the first series first. Which
would make the next entry The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald. (Yes, technically the first entry of that
series is Romeo and Juliet,
but I was just in that, and anyway my Shakespeare blog is still a
thing I might do, and also plays are beyond the scope of this blog.)
I
don't know which I will end up reading first. Hell, maybe I'll read
both at the same time. But just be aware that I'm not necessarily
going to stick to alphabetical anymore. Okay. That is all, and if
you're still reading this, I thank you.
