GeekDad Review: Matter

Imagine a peaceful human-alien civilization has spread throughout the galaxy. Trillions of citizens live in harmony, wars are a distant memory, and science has progressed to godlike levels. For those in the technological pinnacle, even death is no longer a threat, as a person's memories can be backed up and reinserted into a cloned body. A citizen's height and weight can be altered, or sex changed at will. Even his or her species can be changed. Well, you've just imagined the Culture, the fantastic universe conceived by Iain M. Banks.

Peaceful, sleepy civilizations do not make for epic storytelling, so Banks shows us the cracks in the Culture. In any society, inevitably some people are left behind, inadvertently or by choice. Some segments of the population possess only medieval technology, with swords, armor, horse-equivalents and primitive firearms. They are aware of the Culture but for them it is a mysterious and not terribly interesting phenomenon that has little bearing on their day-to-day lives. In Matter, Banks describes protagonists of this sort. They are the children of Hausk, the king of a low-tech level of Sursamen, a shellworld. (A shellworld is an artificial planet whose surface consists of several nesting spheres, creating a vast amount of real estate.) After the throne is usurped, word reaches the princess, Djan Seriy Anaplian, far away on Culture business as an agent for Special Circumstances, the most notorious black ops agency in the government. She has become a one-woman battlewagon, but is so far away that it'll take months for her to return home. Her two brothers, one a bookworm and the other a playboy, are forced to adapt and grow stronger in order to survive the upheaval. Meanwhile, the usurper has discovered something unimaginably ancient and mind-bogglingly dangerous. In orbit, huge fleets lay in hiding, watching the proceedings.

By the time I'd read fifty pages, not only was I hooked, but I was sure Matter was this year's Hugo award winner. It's a dense, almost 600-page tome, but it starts quick and I was grabbed immediately. And Banks doesn't go easy on you with the alien names and concepts. The fact that so much of the background info is difficult to parse, and yet the book is so readable, demonstrates Banks' writing skill. The characterization is complex and unexpected, and the setting, despite its complexity, is totally consistent and believable. Banks has a gift for apt phraseology, especially the courtly speech of the principal characters. But it's the subtle touches that make this setting so rich. In Banks' universe, for example, AIs have quirky senses of humor. For instance, one AI-run space ship is called the Don't Try This at Home. Another is Lightly Seared On The Reality Grill.

Banks has written seven novels in the cycle, beginning with Consider Phlebas in 1987. I haven't read any other of these, and though I want to, I don't feel like I missed anything by not having read them. Also, Banks has written a dozen non-genre novels.

Of all the books I've read of ultrapowerful galactic civilizations, this one does it best. Incredible tech and a huge scope, yet telling a very human story that stands out among the vastness. I'm definitely reading his other Culture books.

In Search of the She-Geek

I asked my 3-year-old daughter what would happen when she was a grown-up lady. The first thing she said was, "paint my nails." I asked what else. "Get a box of tools."

That's my girl!

As the dad of two girls I had long pondered the dynamic between nerdy and non-nerdy, where it applied to girls and women. Naturally I wanted my girls to be Class-A geeks so I created a dichotomy in my head where there were princesses on one side and geek girls on the other. What I have slowly begun to understand is that the two are not necessarily exclusive of one another. Why can't Rosie be a girly girl but also be smart and good with tools? Toward the goal of learning more about what makes women geeky, I read She's Such a Geek: Women Write About Science, Technology, and Other Nerdy Stuff. Edited by Annalee Newitz & Charlie Anders (who also edit the well-received science fiction and futurism blog io9.com) the book features a cast of genuine her-nerds from around the United States.

Before we get any further, I should point out that the book's subtitle is not entirely accurate. It should read "Women Write About Themselves." Which is fine! I read the book to learn about them, not about science and technology. Each of the contributors wrote a essay for the book describing themselves, their motivations, experiences, and passions. Some were math nerds, others built video games. The editors were careful to keep the spectrum as diverse as Sesame Street.

In some respects, geeky women are pioneers. Being a male geek in the '00s is something of an old hat; only the acceptance and coolness is new! But as the writers frequently described, entering this putatively male world was usually a difficult journey, combining genuine sexism with culture clashes and simple misunderstandings. In response they have taken geekiness and put their own spin on it. They defy male-centric categorization and in general cause a ruckus.

As with any group of people, you'll like some of these women and detest others. I found some overly boastful, while others wallowed in their own bitterness and disappointment. Chalk some of it up to gender difference -- reading about these women's romantic lives didn't interest me but might fascinate a woman. For the most part, however, I enjoyed the stories and felt like I understood, at least to a degree, what they experienced. My favorite essays were by gamer extraordinaire Morgan Romine and astronomer Aomawa Shields. Ms. Romine discovered the advantages of being a female gamer (hyper chivalry!) and used it to carve out her own online empire... literally. Ms. Shields' story could inspire anyone. After quitting her astronomer job and starting a new career, she unexpectedly got a second chance and grabbed hold of it with both hands.

Having finished the book, I find myself with new ammo in my quest to understand my maybe-proto-nerdy girls, and perhaps to encourage them a bit. Do I have all the answers? Nope. Do I have some of the answers? Maybe.

"Rosie, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A robot."
That's my girl!