Instruments of Darkness by: Gary Russell

 

Instruments of Darkness is the final book in Gary Russell’s trilogy of Doctor Who novels dealing with the Pale Man and the Irish Twins.  While not the most connected trilogy, there are ideas in all three novels of using alien technology to improve oneself and build power which are interesting but sadly, Instruments of Darkness is the weakest.  This was a novel that was delayed when Russell suffered from writer’s block and was initially replaced in the Past Doctor Adventures schedule with The Shadow in the Glass at the last minute and honestly while the extra time allowed for the novel’s completion it didn’t entirely work with what Russell had done so well before.  The Scales of Injustice and Business Unusual are classics and both I’d highly recommend to fans of their respective eras and Doctor Who in general.  Instruments of Darkness, on the other hand, doesn’t quite come together, though that isn’t to say it isn’t at least worth one read though with tempered expectations.  When the novel shines, it really does shine, but it’s more the connective tissue that doesn’t hold together as well as it really should.  This is the first novel to really acknowledge Big Finish Productions, bringing in the character of Evelyn Smythe to meet the Doctor and Mel long after she’s finished traveling and that’s where one of the big issues of the novel occurs.  The idea that the Sixth Doctor would abandon Evelyn over a decade before they initially met honestly feels wrong.  Okay, at this point Big Finish had only released up to Bloodtide (though Russell would have had access to the upcoming audios) and there wasn’t a clear ending to her story in mind until at least 2004, but it feels wrong for the companion immediately after Peri whom the Doctor couldn’t save and Grant Markham who gets a mention here, would just be put into live isolated for a decade.

 

The characterization of the Sixth Doctor in the first third or so of the novel also feels off.  Oddly enough it feels like the way Terrance Dicks mismanaged the character in The Eight Doctors, having him obsess over food and feel really annoyed at his companions existence which feels more flanderized than anything the television show did with the character at his worst.  Luckily by the time things settle in Russell builds this great dynamic between the Doctor, Evelyn, and Mel and you’re able to really enjoy their time together (with the novel ending with the three of them travelling together which is sadly not really followed up on).  Mel in particular is continually well characterized as she was in Business Unusual from the word go and her active role in the plot really shows how Russell understands the possibilities her character could have.  The plot itself is a bit odd: there’s a being trapped that is being released back into the world by a mysterious John Doe on the orders of the Magnate, a shadow Government that seems to be connected with C19.  This is a simplified version of the plot as Russell adds and removes elements and subplots on his own whims which is a shame as simplicity would have helped make the book flow.  The identity of John Doe is also interesting, due to some of the implications of the character being an obscure companion given a genuinely horrific fate, though thankfully that is implications and not confirmed.  The exploration of the Irish Twins, Ciara and Cellian, here is perhaps where the novel is at its best, allowing both of them to break away from their previous deeds and attempt a redemption.  Sadly this is lost in the sheer number of characters and the fact that you really need context from The Scales of Injustice and Business Unusual for it to work.

 

Overall, Instruments of Darkness is a book that probably needed an editor if it was to reach the heights of the previous two in the trilogy, but in a lot of aspects managed to work while in many others it fell flat.  The characterization of the regulars starts rocky but eventually comes together really nicely and deals with the ideas of the entire trilogy but there’s still that sense of things being held back to make the final experience just fine.  5/10.

The Corbomite Maneuver by: Jerry Sohl and directed by: Joseph Sargent

“The Corbomite Maneuver” is written by Jerry Sohl and directed by Joseph Sargent.  It was filmed under production code 3, was the 10^th episode of Star Trek Season 1, and was broadcast on November 10, 1966.

 

Sometimes it’s the most unassuming and budget saving episodes of a television show that leaves a harder impact.  “The Corbomite Maneuver” is one such example, being contained for the majority of the episode to the bridge of the Enterprise it is an episode that feels the most like a stage play in all of the best ways.  Sure, there are peeks into the corridors occasionally and one scene in the sickbay, meeting room, and on the alien ship, all incredibly short and there to move the plot along or wrap everything up means that this episode has to be sold almost entirely on the performances and direction in this one location.  The plot of the episode is simple, the Enterprise comes upon an enormous cube in space which does not allow it to leave and the next fifty minutes of the episode builds tension as the crew does not entirely know how to react.  Eventually the cube is destroyed, and an alien federation led by Balok communicate and sentence the Enterprise to destruction.  This looming threat is a clear reflection of global politics of the time emboldened with themes of mutually assured destruction once Kirk bluffs Balok with a gambit that the Enterprise was constructed with corbomite as a defense.  The corbomite will ensure that Balok’s ship will be destroyed with the Enterprise by reflecting the weapons back to it.

 

The actual maneuver happens about halfway through the episode and the buildup to that point is brilliant.  While the episode is only fifty minutes, as are all installments of Star Trek, it still takes time to allow every character to have at least one reaction to events.  There are the big ones from Kirk, Spock, and McCoy as well as Lt. Bailey, played by Anthony Call, the small ones from Sulu and Uhura are equally as interesting.  Sulu manages to keep a good humor while Uhura stays composed and stern as the main communications officer relaying the messages to Balok, both characters allowing George Takei and Nichelle Nichols little moments to shine.  Bailey is an interesting character, he hadn’t been established prior to this episode but serves a very important purpose of exploring both how someone may break down under stress as well as Kirk’s leadership style.  There is a moment from McCoy mentioning that Kirk had been exerting pressure on the younger officer, implying higher expectations which are interesting to explore and eventually conclude with the way that the episode ends.  William Shatner’s performance as Kirk is also perfect as the leader guiding his people through the genuinely harrowing crisis, perfectly reflecting the political tensions of the time where the belief was that any day mutually assured destruction could occur.  While Kirk as a character shows moments of uncertainty, it is all behind an important façade to keep.  There is a trust between Kirk and Spock on display, Kirk ensuring that he is the one put in danger with Spock left behind to pick up the mantle and pieces should the final meeting with Balok go south.  Finally, the direction from Joseph Sargent also helps make the episode, being far more ambitious than other episodes with several close ups at integral moments and the occasional tracking shot just to make the settings interesting.

 

Overall, “The Corbomite Maneuver” may have been an episode made with a reduced budget in mind, but its limitations are what allow it to work as a brilliant piece of television.  The script from Jerry Sohl is perfect in understating what the episode needs to do to establish what Star Trek is (this was the second episode filmed) and the direction from Joseph Sargent is perfect at bringing out the pathos of the cast making this the first perfect episode I have come across.  10/10.

The Stormlight Archive: The Way of Kings by: Brandon Sanderson

 

The Way of Kings was published twelve years ago at the time of writing this review and thus began Brandon Sanderson’s magnum opus, The Stormlight Archive.  Projected to be ten full length novels, four released at the time of writing with the fifth currently being written all clocking in at over 1,000 pages per installment plus two supplemental novellas.  As such, when reviewing these books it’s going to be impossible to say everything I can about each installment unless these reviews become the length of a novel.  The Way of Kings as a novel has three main plotlines told from four main perspectives, the others coming from the interlude chapters, the prologue, and the epilogue.  Kaladin, a slave on the Shattered Planes where the human Alethi fight the Rosharan Parshendi; Shallan, a would be ward from a lesser house attempting to steal a fabrial (a device some can use to transmute objects into one of ten essences through Soulcasting) from Brightlady Jasnah Kholin; and Dalinar and Adolin Kholin, one of the Alethi Brightlords and his oldest son high in the court of the Alethi king Elokhar investigating an attempt on the king’s life plus navigating the complex court politics are the three prongs of the plot plus chapters dedicated to Kaladin’s past during the six years leading up to the main time period of the novel.  The flashback chapters are something that are used for each installment of The Stormlight Archive adding an extra focus on a particular character or characters for that novel.  As such, his plotline will be discussed last in this review in tandem with the fact that it is also the one with the most focus for The Way of Kings essentially making him the main character.

 

Before diving into the three plotlines, time must be taken to discuss the prologue and its point of view character, Szeth son-son-Vallano Truthless of Shinovar, an assassin who is essentially cursed into killing people despite being a pacifist.  The prologue is the first perspective of the assassination of Gavilar Kholin, the previous king, on the night he was signing a treaty with the Parshendi which could have ended the war.  This sequence will be revisited in subsequent novels from different perspectives but the perspective of Szeth is an interesting one as it is caked in regret and a reluctance to actually kill the king.  Gavilar’s death and final words to Szeth are also integral to what The Way of Kings is about, an attempt to restore the honor to a people who have been waging a horrific war against and enslaving an innocent group of people.  Sanderson’s exploration of a colonial society and how colonialism can replace and degrade other cultures.  While not groundbreaking or anything, there is clearly an attempt to explore it throughout this novel and The Stormlight Archive as a whole.  The prologue is also one of the few times during The Way of Kings where the magic system is used, Szeth is technically one of the Knights Radiant, an ancient order who use Shardplate as armor, Shardblades as weapons, and swear a series of five oaths to gain abilities based on an order they are fit to be an ideal of.  The Way of Kings establishes them in the minds of the reader as unreliable, abandoning the people of Roshar long before the book began and Szeth being introduced as a Radiant (though not revealed to be one until much later in the novel) Sanderson seeds the idea of distrust of the magic system.  This isn’t to say there isn’t magic, there are magic objects and the currency is infused with a magic energy which keeps the book at the level of a high magic system though the true complexities aren’t revealed in this novel, keeping to a basic introduction.

 

The plotline split between Dalinar and Adolin Kholin is perhaps the least involving the magic system and fantasy elements, instead being more focused on the political elements of Elokhar’s court.  Much of the plot is one that Sanderson uses for worldbuilding, exploring the relationships between the brightlords and highprinces to show how much of an outlier Dalinar acts on Roshar.  Sanderson sets up Dalinar as someone who at one point was a warmonger and is clearly holding onto previous trauma, trauma which will be revealed in a later book, but through his experience and the loss of his brother Gavilar is clearly weighing on him.  His two sons, Renarin and Adolin, are clearly the world to him and he is training the both of them to act with genuine honor and care for their men.  Dalinar also, and perhaps most importantly, doesn’t use bridge crews as a genuine act of humanity towards his soldiers.  While he is set up as the one moral highprince, he is still part of a system built on discrimination, the Alethi nobility and upper class all having light eyes while the middle, lower, and slave classes have dark eyes and as such are treated in many cases as subhuman.  He also has been having several visions and believes he may be going insane as they appear often when a storm is coming and much of his discussions with Adolin are about eventually abdicating his position so his son can secure it.  This means that Adolin’s point of view chapters are often exploring the quiet uncertainty of a noble character.  Adolin and Renarin are a perfect pair of siblings in construction of their characters, working as foils of one another with Renarin being less developed since we don’t get anything from his point of view.  Adolin’s uncertainty and paranoia is especially important as he continually points to Sadeas, the highprince Elokhar trusts equally to Dalinar.  Sadeas is cruel and clearly antagonistic, but not an unintelligent man as he makes all of the right choices to further his aims and grabs for power.  Taking power is what this plotline has at its center and it builds to one of the most memorable scenes in The Stormlight Archive thus far when the mystery of who attempted to kill Elokhar by cutting his saddle is revealed which will not be spoiled here.

 

Shallan Davar’s plotline is the shortest of the three plotlines, mainly because it reveals that all three plotlines of The Way of Kings are getting chess pieces on the board for the rest of the series.  While this doesn’t stop Sanderson from developing a character arc for each plotline that has a beginning, middle, and end, it does mean that Shallan’s plotline feels the most separate.  Geographically The Way of Kings primarily takes place on the Shattered Plains where the war with the Parshendi is being fought, except for Shallan’s plot which is in the city of Kharbranth where she seeks to be the ward of Jasnah Kholin to save her family which had a Soulcaster which broke shortly before her father died.  Shallan is also the character who hasn’t quite been developed yet into who she will become, mainly because her mind is so focused on stealing the Soulcaster that while you get to see her interact with others, flirt, and have a genuinely interesting clever personality, you miss a lot of her insecurities here as they are mainly pushed down when the certainty of her task is at hand.  She eventually succeeds in becoming Jasnah’s ward, has this nice relationship with an archivist, and geos to some desperate places to achieve her goal and escape unscathed.  Where she ends the novel is brilliant, especially the last few chapters from her perspective and Jasnah as a character works incredibly well as a foil, but it’s a very simple plotline and is maybe the one thing from The Way of Kings that falls in places.

 

The final plotline takes up most of The Way of Kings, Kaladin Stormblessed is a darkeyes: the son of a surgeon, his father was saving to eventually send him to become a surgeon but due to lighteyes discrimination, mistrust in his town, and a series of unfortunate events he enlists as a soldier under brightlord Meridas Amaram to protect and watch over his drafted younger brother, Tien.  While Kaladin makes a good soldier, he is eventually betrayed and his brother killed in battle, something for which he blames himself for.  Kaladin is branded as a slave and sent to the Shattered Plains where he is a runner on a bridge crew: a group of slaves ‘led’ to carry bridges which armies can fight in battles.  This is a duty that kills most and Kaladin is assigned to Bridge Four, a crew that has the most casualties and the least leadership.  Kaladin’s first instinct after a bridge run is to genuinely end it all, he is at the worst of a major depressive episode and his situation and undergoing trauma is contributing to that outcome.  On Roshar there are creatures called spren which are the essence of objects and concepts like sickness and death which can gather around things and be seen and a windspren which has gained some sort of consciousness called Syl has attached herself to Kaladin and through another genuinely brilliant scene convinces him to attempt to live, not just survive, but live.  He uses his training to slowly bring the rest of Bridge Four into an actual unit and give them a chance for survival.  At every turn his superiors and those outside of the bridge crews do anything in their power to bring him down since he inspires hope.  Sanderson is brilliant at pacing out the small victories to make the defeats feel all the more real and devastating.  Having the other members of Bridge Four slowly come around to Kaladin means that they all get time to develop.  Teft, an older slave who genuinely believe the Radiants will return, and Rock, a Horneater who believes in Kaladin due to sensing his potential as a Radiant and seeing Syl when no one else can.  They are the first two and the most developed, both being great, but the others including Lopen and even Moash deserve mention.

 

Finally, a quick note for Cosmere fans, Hoid is here as King Elokhar’s Wit and is perhaps at his most delightful though I will save discussion on his role for further novels.

 

Overall, The Way of Kings is an utterly brilliant novel.  It’s an easy read with Sanderson’s style with the pace moving throughout the 1,000 pages knowing when to switch plotlines and change characters.  It’s four main protagonists are among Sanderson’s most memorable and this is the book that got me hooked on his work long before reading any of his others giving it a special place in my heart.  All that’s left to say is life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination.  9/10.

Dagger of the Mind by: S. Bar-David and directed by: Vincent McEveety

 

“Dagger of the Mind” is written by S. Bar-David, a pseudonym for Shimon Wincelberg and directed by Vincent McEveety.  It was filmed under production code 11, was the 9^th episode of Star Trek Season 1, and was broadcast on November 3, 1966.

 

Finally.  It’s taken three weeks, and three episodes, and finally we’re back to one episode of Star Trek that I can genuinely say is great.  Like the previous best episodes of Star Trek from my 8 episode sample size, “Dagger of the Mind” is an episode that draws on fears and anxieties of the times as well as wrapping the episode in a social message advocating for progressive principles.  Bar-David’s script is clearly partially inspired by A Clockwork Orange, the novel being published four years before this episode was made, the episode dealing with (at its core) prisoners being brainwashed and their memories wiped in a new process using a neural neutralizer.  From the 1960s when this episode debuted, to the present, prison reform has always been at the forefront of progress and while it is a progressive cause that has not been really progressed in large ways (regressing in several) it is fascinating to see what Star Trek’s vision for a prison is meant to be.  “Dagger of the Mind” has the prison set up as an underground rehabilitation center where several prisoners are allowed to essentially roam free and have opportunities for education and advancement, a minor therapist character being revealed to have been a prisoner who has continued to work and be educated through the inspiration of her treatment.  It’s wonderful to see the fear not coming from being put in prison, but from being abused by those running the prison.

 

The episode’s structure is wonderful, the first third being exclusively on the Enterprise where a seemingly mad man stows away with some cargo the prison planet is giving, but he is easily and peacefully subdued.  The man is Dr. Simon van Gelder, played perfectly by Morgan Woodward, and he has had his mind broken by this machine, apparently due to accident.  Kirk goes down to the planet to investigate the potential cause of the accident with one of McCoy’s psychiartists Helen Noel, played by Marianna Hill.  Other episodes of Star Trek would keep focus just on Kirk and Noel as they investigate, “The Naked Time” and “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” coming to mind as examples, but Bar-David’s script splits the action between the planet and the Enterprise, meaning that characters can learn different things to help create dramatic tension and actually give Spock and McCoy something to do in the episode.  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy are essentially Star Trek’s main characters and this episode’s decision to split them up means you get to see how they act separately, something that Spock and McCoy especially needed at this point.  Kirk has had several chances to shine on their own, but the other two of the trio really get to come into their own here with Spock using his mental abilities to look into Van Gelder’s mind while McCoy’s skepticism becomes a driving force of the episode.

 

The events on the planet are also great and where you really get the exploration of “Dagger of the Mind’s” main theme.  The villain of the piece is the director of the prison and the way director Vincent McEveety shoots the scenes surrounding the brainwashing is fascinating.  It is not overshot or dramatically done in dutch angle, but there are perfectly placed close ups and cutting to the light the machine emits to indicate it being used as well as the console being operated.  Shatner’s performance is also suitably subdued when Kirk is brainwashed with enough gravitas being placed on the torture but not too much as to allow an over the top “I am in pain” acting.  There’s enough that Kirk has to use his wits to outmaneuver the director while Spock and McCoy have to wait for the planet’s shields to be brought down.  That isn’t to say “Dagger of the Mind” is perfect: as a script some of the scenes have a genuinely uneven pace and there are points in the episode that take far too long to get where they are going.  It almost feels artificially extended to fit the 50 minute time slot in places, though it is an episode where the climax is excellent and the performances keep the viewer engaged in what is happening.

 

Overall, “Dagger of the Mind” feels like a breath of fresh air after a run of three very mixed episodes for Star Trek.   It’s one whose message is very clear and in line with what the show is advocating for as well as not coming from an initial idea of Gene Roddenberry’s.  The direction is great and distinct but not being weird for the sake of weird as other directors have a tendency to be making it back to a very good quality that overcomes some pacing issues.  8/10.

Miri by: Adrian Spies and directed by: Vincent McEveety

 

“Miri” is written by Adrian Spies and directed by Vincent McEveety.  It was filmed under production code 12, was the 8^th episode of Star Trek Season 1, and was broadcast on October 27, 1966.

 

“Miri” is kind of an odd episode to discuss, mainly because my thoughts on the proceedings are a bit of a jumble.  On paper, it should work: it’s a race against the clock on a planet that looks just like Earth though technologically is in the 1960s where a man made plague causes adults to rapidly age after slowing down the aging of the children.  There are no adults able to care for the children, as they all degrade into childlike monsters and quickly die.  This as a premise is great and should be brilliant with the crew of the Enterprise beaming down to the planet, swiftly being infected, and having only about seven days to find a cure while the children essentially try to thwart them due to distrust of adults.  There are a lot of ideas in that description, but the episode itself is really split into several directions so none of them get particularly explored.  The most interesting thread is dropped after the pre-titles sequence, being the planet matching the geography of Earth.  It’s established that this is a planet where there haven’t been any human colonies or mapping so the people on the planet are not humans, just evolved to look like humans which is fine but the lack of exploration as to why this planet is Earth means there’s just an unanswered question over the viewer’s heads.  It’s also unnecessary since there is a distress signal being sent out into space on a frequency which is why the Enterprise finds this planet in the first place.  That’s enough motivation to get the characters there and to get the story to happen.

 

The child characters are also set up by crossing the Lost Boys from Peter Pan and the characters from Lord of the Flies but aren’t exactly fleshed out characters.  There are three main child characters, Miri, Jawn, and the boy, played by Kim Darby, Michael J. Pollard, and John Megna, but there is also a chorus of children generally cast from the crew and cast.  This means that they don’t quite get lines or characterization outside of group chants, but the dialogue given to any of the children attempts to follow rules of language degeneration with grown-ups becoming ‘grups,’ fooling around or games in general becoming ‘foolies.’  This largely fails due to the extreme repetition so the children at points only speak in this language degeneration, especially describing the punishment of adults is this short chant that just becomes annoying.  The trained child actors are okay, with Darby as Miri being the most interesting as she examines what it means to grow up and begin romantic feelings, but Megna’s boy is being given direction to shout his lines while Pollard is trying.  Really the acting that’s interesting is the interplay between William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, DeForest Kelley, and Grace Lee Whitney as the tension is palpably growing as the time.  This is enhanced by Vincent McEveety’s excellent direction that really plays up the tense desperate atmosphere throughout, enhanced by the first use of location filming for the series which just helps make this episode feel different from the seven previous episodes and a larger scope.

 

Overall, “Miri” is an episode that honestly has a lot going for it in terms of its ideas, but Adrian Spies’ script is one that opens with a lot of intrigue but there are so many plot threads introduced than promptly dropped.  It also has not aged incredibly well since the main female guest star, a child, is set up to develop romantic feelings for Captain Kirk (luckily he doesn’t reciprocate and it’s joked about at the end).  There’s a brilliant science fiction story buried in here but it really doesn’t add up to something particularly good.  5/10.

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street by: Lawrence Miles

 

There was a temptation in writing this review to make an attempt in emulating Lawrence Miles’ style of writing The Adventuress of Henrietta Street.  Instead of a typical prose fiction narrative, this novel is presented as a non-fiction work as an attempt to chronicle mysterious, esoteric, and the often occult goings on in the year leading up to the marriage of the titular adventuress, Scarlette from recollection, public record, and speculation on the part of the author between 1782 and 1783.  As is typical with Lawrence Miles’ work, this novel is often obfuscating its normal plot in layers upon layers of commentary and intrigue and while it is perhaps the most difficult book by Miles to read, it has perhaps the deepest reflections on Doctor Who and essentially is one last goodbye, despite Miles saying he would never write for the universe again after Interference (apparently he needed the money for LEGO sets).  The difficulty in reading The Adventuress of Henrietta Street, at least in a physical copy, is not due to Miles, however, but BBC Books and their 288 page count restriction for their published books.  This means that the font size of the novel is incredibly small, which had made it physically difficult for my eye to follow the actual words on the page, especially when the format switched to reprinting interviews from the characters and other quotations further indenting the formatting.  Again, this is not due to Miles, yes he did have a book that was split into two for Interference, however, that simply wouldn’t have worked here as it would have split up a story that is meant to be experienced as one piece that is brought together.  It’s also something where the format means that not everything is answered and the unreliable nature of the narrator, not named but presumably an academic from Earth, adds conjecture and speculation to events.

 

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street described in one word is visceral, Miles’ prose brings the London setting to life with this sense of mystery and danger as the wedding of Scarlette and the setting of the house are mired with explorations of society and especially of the lives of the sex workers living in the house.  Some have said this is not so much a Doctor Who book, but a book with the Doctor in it and that is something I have to disagree with emphatically.  Miles is drawing on the absence of typical Doctor Who trappings and Doctor light stories that the New Adventures would do to explore what his view of the Doctor is in the novels post The Ancestor Cell.  The threat largely mounting is one of an Old One breaking through the threads of Time itself, unlocking the floods of creatures being held back by an authority that is now missing from the universe.  This leakage into the universe is also reflected in the occult and magical themes that The City of the Dead began which The Adventuress of Henrietta Street continues to explore with wonder.  The wedding itself is ceremony, there are thirteen parties invited, twelve accept, and the reception makes use of a thirteen-sided table.  The bride is a human, the groom is not, and in addition to the wedding it feels like a coronation, binding the groom to humanity as its lord and protector.  If you haven’t already guessed at this point, the groom is the Doctor and there is something utterly beautiful and fascinating about what his place in the universe is now that everything has changed.  Miles puts him in this unfamiliar territory and under responsibility.  For the first time, Miles’ anger at the revived series feels justified actually reading the book that is essentially a precursor to the emotional core of Series 1.

 

As this is a novel written in the style of non-fiction, and the Doctor, Fitz, and Anji are time travelers, we don’t get their direct perspective.  Both companions fulfill more minor roles in the novel, Anji especially being sidelined the most as Miles clearly doesn’t like her character, but this really isn’t their story, it’s the story of the house and the universe.  The many women of the house all live fascinating lives and have a role to play.  Scarlette feels the perfect compliment to the Doctor, both filling and transcending the typical ‘companion’ role, forming this understanding of who the Doctor is and providing the avenue to confront the babewyns.  Once again like The City of the Dead before it the emotions of the characters are highlighted through intimacy in a very tasteful way.  The mysterious nature of the actual events and characters, especially at the wedding, are also integral to what The Adventuress of Henrietta Street is doing.  This is the first time the character of Sabbath appears and is identified, being set up as the villain of the novel and he both is and isn’t.  Hypnotic is perhaps the best way to describe the character as it’s one of the many unanswered questions as to what he is trying to accomplish but the goal itself is motivated clearly.  The unanswered questions clearly have answers in Miles’ mind but they are intentionally left vague.  There is a man with a rosette who is one of the four surviving elementals and whose identity is obvious.  One guest never arrives or even responds to the invitations despite the other twelve arriving and its clear who this entity is.  And the book ends with Sabbath performing a surgery.

 

The Adventuress of Henrietta Street is not a novel to be read lightly and perhaps to be fully appreciated may have to be read more than once, but it is a statement on Doctor Who and really what it means.  It asks a lot of questions and the answers are there if you look very carefully.  It manages to be both typical and completely atypical given its paradoxical nature and one of the transcendent pieces of Doctor Who media that honestly changed trajectory of the franchise and the eventual show’s return.  10/10.

What Are Little Girls Made Of? by: Robert Bloch and directed by: James Goldstone

“What Are Little Girls Made Of?” is written by Robert Bloch and directed by James Goldstone.  It was filmed under production code 10, was the 7^th episode of Star Trek Season 1, and was broadcast on October 20, 1966.

 

The development of robotics and artificial intelligence have long been an integral part of science fiction stories, generally following the fear of being replaced by a robot uprising either covert or obvious.  It is these fears that “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” play off of, being the first Star Trek episode to actually feature robots, in this case androids created on a distant planet by a race of Old Ones.  Dr. Roger Korby, played by Michael Strong, discovered this planet but disappeared, leaving his fiancé Nurse Christine Chapel, played by Majel Barrett, who took her position on the Enterprise to find him.  This is a genuinely interesting setup for a character and it’s the only episode where Nurse Chapel gets to have the focus as a main character, though sadly her focus is in relation to her love for Korby which is a little limititng.  Limiting is perhaps how the setup for “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” can be described: there’s a lot that Robert Bloch could have done playing on the fears of androids and developing Korby as wanting to use the androids to take over the galaxy not for some dictatorial pursuit but it is eventually revealed to give everyone immortality through the transfer of consciousness.  This should be played for horror, and while it is played negatively, this isn’t an episode that really plays on the fears and horror of this as an idea.  Heck, it doesn’t really feel like a Star Trek episode at all, there really aren’t any interactions between the crew as the major players here are Chapel, Korby, and Captain Kirk who is duplicated as an android.  Yes, Spock makes an appearance but he is ancillary to the plot at best.

 

This is perhaps an episode that doesn’t actually want to be an episode of Star Trek, but its own piece of science fiction that has been put into the Star Trek format.  This isn’t a bad thing, but it does mean that the episode feels oddly paced and out of place for a majority of it.  Luckily, Bloch’s script does at least characterize Kirk well even if he really isn’t the main character of the episode, but there is the issue when the android is made in that it isn’t actually used for any tension about a duplicate Kirk going up to the Enterprise like “The Enemy Within” had just two episodes ago.  Honestly as an episode it’s one where it plays with ideas but it doesn’t fully explore any of them.  There is a great twist where Korby is in fact an android, revealed just before what would be the climax of the episode.  Andrea, an android Korby constructed based on a human, ends up destroying the android Kirk for very weak reasons (it won’t let her kiss him), and Ruk, an android indigenous to the planet played by Ted Cassidy, is convinced Korby is a threat to his existence so he is killed.  Korby then kisses Andrea, who professes her love for him, and they end up killing each other.  This is odd because it doesn’t really play out like a climax, especially since Robert Bloch is most famous for writing Psycho and director James Goldstone directed “Where No Man Has Gone Before” which was equally thrilling in its climax.

 

Overall, “What Are Little Girls Made Of?” is honestly a bit baffling.  The title references a nursery rhyme that doesn’t really play into the plot outside of the synthetic nature of the androids, and instead of feeling like a tense exploration of humanity it plays out like a stage play with a couple of genuinely good twists.  The acting is great, and the directing is stellar despite going overtime and overbudget, and the script should work but it feels like the whole isn’t quite the sum of its parts turning out a very average piece of television.  5/10.

Warbreaker by: Brandon Sanderson

 

While I had read most of the novels in the Cosmere when discovering Brandon Sanaderson, I initially discounted Elantris and Warbreaker.  Elantris since it was his first published novel and Warbreaker because it was a standalone novel.  Interestingly, Warbreaker is a book that serves as a perfect introduction to the Cosmere and the writing style of Brandon Sanderson.  While not always set to be a standalone, Sanderson intending to write a direct sequel at some point, it works as a standalone especially since it’s been over a decade since publication and the sequel hasn’t happened.  There are some greater connections to the larger Cosmere, especially The Stormlight Archive which began publication the year after but they aren’t enough or necessary to understand the plot or characters.  It’s mainly characters and ideas from Warbreaker leaving their setting and making appearances in other books.  This is also a special novel as it was not originally published in print, but on Brandon Sanderson’s website where it can still be read for free to this day, something that may be intended for the sequel.  The free version has no difference from the version in print, though it was published the year before and includes extensive notes on revisions Sanderson made during the writing process that are not present in the print version making it a useful tool for potential authors in and outside of the science fiction and fantasy genres to see what a book from a professional goes through.  If you are not a writer, while they may be of interest and I am glad they are there, it is not something that is necessary to look into when reading.

 

Warbreaker has a fairly simple plot especially for a Brandon Sanderson story, focusing in on the lives of two sisters, Siri and Vivenna, who have their life paths switched when their father, a king of the nation of Idris on the planet Nalthis, decides instead of sending Vivenna who has been trained to be the bride of a God King, Siri is to be sent completely unprepared.  The arranged marriage is to prevent a war between the respective countries and this decision terrifies Siri, and much of the early section of the novel is from her perspective as she adjusts to an unprepared life in the court.  While Vivenna is essentially the other major point of view character, it is Siri who has more time devoted to her with the sequel being more devoted to Vivenna and her story after the events of Warbreaker.  Now, the use of an arranged marriage is a trope in fiction and fantasy fiction that I generally dislike, it’s one where female characters lose their agency and are generally traumatized somehow by a poor author, and while that isn’t necessarily wrong, it’s not due to the God King, it’s due to the decision to force someone mentally unprepared into an arranged political marriage and the court members essentially keeping Siri in the palace.  The God King, Susebron, is actually kind of a fascinating character as a lot of Warbreaker includes examinations of faith and the idea of someone becoming a god as a real thing and it is eventually revealed his tongue has been cut out and he’s actually quite nice.  This isn’t some Beauty and the Beast style a couple has to learn to love each other, instead going down a more traditional romance of two people loving each other as they get to know one another.  Siri is spontaneous and free spirited while Suseborn is kind and caring making an interesting dynamic once the romance gets going.

 

Vivenna’s plot also follows her forming a sense of identity after losing what should have been her source of purpose and meaning in life, expecting to use her political acumen to keep the peace.  This is something that Sanderson uses to point her naivety in the face of the rest of the world where she is taken advantage of and has to learn to connect with the regular people.  It’s a simple role reversal for the sisters as established in the opening chapters, but it’s one that works.  Vivenna’s plot is also far more active and widespread as Siri is stuck in the palace for most of the book (though not inactive).  Vivenna deals with the underclasses while coming to terms with the magic system that her people in particular have outlawed the use of.  She also meets Vasher, a man who escapes a dungeon in the prologue and carries the sword Nightblood (Sanderson’s classic cursed sword trope though with his own sense of sarcasm), and this is where the magic system really works.  As in Elantris and Mistborn, Warbreaker has a unique magic system, this time connecting sensations, especially color, with Breaths that can be used to animate and give life to anything.  While this doesn’t have as much of an exposition dump as Mistborn in terms of explanation, it is still one with clear rules that stands out as essentially connecting the magic to color and life.  It adds a sense of artistry to the system and the book itself as there are deeper parts of the magic system as part of the worldbuilding.

 

Overall, Warbreaker is perhaps one of Sanderson’s slower works focusing in on the main characters and a very small scale story, but it is still an integral part of the Cosmere as well as being perfect for newcomers to the author’s work.  The slow pace is something different for Sanderson and something very nice to actually see happen putting this on par with some of the best of the Cosmere.  9/10.

The Power of the Daleks by: John Peel

 

The Power of the Daleks was written by John Peel, based on the story of the same name by David Whitaker.  It was the 161^st story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

John Peel is an author that I find myself at odds with.  He enjoys a very specific slice of Doctor Who and his original fiction at its best is still very problematic.  Yet, he got his start with several Dalek novelizations from The Chase, to Mission to the Unknown and The Mutation of Time, and ending with the two expanded novelizations for The Power of the Daleks and The Evil of the Daleks as a prelude to the Virgin Missing Adventures to see if novels featuring past Doctors would sell.  These two stories were also among the final seven television serials to be novelized, the final five publishing over two decades later by BBC Books.  As such they are fairly rare in the second hand market, often with inflating prices, but The Power of the Daleks was recently released in an unabridged audiobook read by Nicholas Briggs.  Emphasis on being a prelude, as this serves very much as a full novel length, double the length of the standard Target novelization yet Peel doesn’t actually add extra plot points to the script.  This helps take the already brilliant side characters from David Whitaker’s original script and expand them to fit in a novelization more than just the actor’s performances.

 

Lesterson’s neurosis and eventual downfall upon giving the Daleks power is especially sinister in Peel’s novelization as the nervousness and lack of confidence that underlined the performance on television is brought to the forefront.  Janley is more overtly manipulative and more attention is brought to the rebel cause in general, there’s a new medic character that essentially combines some of the nameless assistant characters into one.  Interestingly there is more of a reflection on The Tenth Planet in the novelization, primarily through extending Ben and Polly’s skepticism on whether the Doctor is the Doctor, something that comes up when both characters are briefly written out of the plot reflecting the weeks that Michael Craze and Anneke Wills had vacations.  Ben’s fear especially comes to the forefront more often and scenes are told from his perspective.  It also helps that the minor additions to the plot are recapping the ending of The Tenth Planet, showing the First Doctor’s regeneration and describing the fear of Ben and Polly as they see the man they thought they knew physically disappear.  There’s also some added files about UNIT cleaning up The Tenth Planet and implying that this eventually leads to the establishment of the Vulcan colony, IMC which is in control of the colony, and eventually stopping the Dalek invasion of Earth.  These are all additions that somehow Peel make more than just simple fanwank as knowledge of these stories really isn’t required.  IMC is explained in the plot so you don’t have to be familiar with Colony in Space and the UNIT characters mentioned (Benton and Sarah Jane Smith primarily) are explained enough to the reader.

 

Overall, while I wouldn’t say that The Power of the Daleks is a novelization that can replace either listening to the soundtrack of the story or watching the reconstructions (animated or telesnaps), it is a genuinely fascinating take on the story as a whole and explores a lot of David Whitaker’s ideas and characters incredibly well to deserve its longer word count.  10/10.

Mudd's Women by: Stephen Kandel, from a story by: Gene Roddenberry, and directed by: Harvey Hart

 

“Mudd’s Women” is written by Stephen Kandel, from a story by Gene Roddenberry, and directed by Harvey Hart.  It was filmed under production code 4, was the 6^th episode of Star Trek Season 1, and was broadcast on October 13, 1966.

 

Sometimes you remember you are watching a show from the 1960s.  “Mudd’s Women” is a quintessential example of this phenomenon.  I don’t want this review to boil down to this episode is a very sexist episode that doesn’t make internal sense, but this episode is very sexist and doesn’t make internal sense.  Gene Roddenberry came up with the idea and handed scripting duties to Stephen Kandel who wrote for several television series spanning the 1960s to as late as the 1980s, but this episode generally doesn’t come together in terms of plot.  The premise is that the Enterprise follows a small cargo ship which gets destroyed under the supervision of one Harry Mudd, played by Roger C. Carmel.  The twist is that the cargo are beautiful women who enrapture the crew and are being sold as frontier wives.  Now, this does have its historical roots in the idea of Star Trek being Wagon Train to the Stars reflecting ideas of the American frontier but in space.  This is perhaps the closest that Star Trek has gone to explicitly condoning the idea of manifest destiny and that might be one of the least Star Trek things that the show has actually established.  Yes, exploration of strange new worlds fits with manifest destiny, but as Roddenberry has set up the show the point is humanity as not interfering and not subjugating alien species so “Mudd’s Women” just feels like an outsider.

 

There is an angle to take on “Mudd’s Women” that it’s attempting to have a feminist message, the women’s beauty is down to a drug which sort of represents an unattainable beauty standard, but that is undercut ending with the reveal that the drug is a placebo and the women can just create their beauty.  This doesn’t work since they show the women physically transforming and becoming beautiful once actually taking the drug.  This gets at an underlying issue with Harvey Hart’s direction, it doesn’t really flow nicely.  The direction of this episode is one where there just is never a static shot that starts and ends being static which is certainly a directorial choice, but unlike other films and television episodes that will use a moving camera to convey something these shots just move to move.  It’s also kind of jarring when it doesn’t necessarily follow who is speaking which again can be done really well if it’s intending to draw the focus to something else, but here it feels as if Hart is just doing this for either no purpose or to pander to the male gaze.  That isn’t to say that “Mudd’s Women” is all bad: Roger C. Carmel’s performance is devouring the scenery with several insane accents as he lies himself into a hole with the final lines of the episode being this genuinely funny exchange between Mudd and Kirk, and the performances are genuinely great with DeForest Kelley being the standout of the main crew here (and the occasional really nice one line from George Takei).

 

Overall, “Mudd’s Women” is just an underwhelming experience where the utter camp of the first half really doesn’t overcome the genuine sexism and weird messaging that it includes.  There might be an interesting story to tell here, but the bad direction and script don’t work well.  While it doesn’t make me as uncomfortable as say “Charlie X” did on rewatch, it definitely reduces its female characters to objects while actively trying to avoid that and failing to do so.  4/10.

Castrovalva by: Christopher H. Bidmead

 

Castrovalva was written by Christopher H. Bidmead, based on his story of the same name.  It was the 76^th story to be novelized by Target Books.

 

Now the last novelization I wrote a review for was Logopolis and like the two television stories in pair, they are like night and day in terms of quality and presentation.  I don’t necessarily hate Castrovalva on television, but it is a very slow story and lacks the atmosphere of Logopolis that really made that serial and novelization work.  You may find this review of the novelization of Castrovalva just a bit short is because this is a novelization where it feels as if nothing is changed.  This is perhaps the platonic ideal of translating the script into a novel literally, something that makes it difficult to really take any time to discuss.  The only change is again a bringing to the forefront of the major themes, this time the themes of recursion, with quite a lot of time given to the early TARDIS scenes to actually explain recursion between Tegan and Nyssa.

 

The relationship between Nyssa and Tegan is something people apparently ship and it might just be this novelization that gave rise to that.  This is at least apparent since this is the story where they are together on the page the most and have this very deep friendship despite not actually really knowing each other.  Bidmead does a lot to explore this relationship through the first three-quarters of the novel, especially since the Doctor doesn’t actually get to do much.  There’s an almost interesting attempt to lean into the absurdity of some of the plot, with some interesting little additions referencing Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass which while not dealing with recursion have, I guess, some of the contradictory elements that Bidmead was going for.  The big problem here is that the pacing is poor, it’s a book from a serial that really didn’t have enough plot to fill all four episodes and that translates back here in the novelization which is a shame, the other Bidmead novelizations I genuinely liked.

 

Overall, Castrovalva is kind of just a big pile of meh.   The prose is a bit bland and the pacing is completely off from an already slow paced television serial and there isn’t anything to make the tension of tense scenes work.  It’s perfectly fine and does the job I guess, but isn’t one I’m going to be revisiting anytime soon.  5/10.