Space, The Almost-Final Frontier
I’ve just completed a re-read of Redshirts, by John Scalzi. The first hint you’re going to get is this: when I talk books and I use the word “re-read”, it means good things.
Redshirts is an ambitious book, to say the least. It’s the story of the crew of the starship Intrepid, a very close analogue to the starship Enterprise. It’s the flagship of the Universal Union Fleet, populated with a daring crew, ready to spring into action.
But instead of following the adventures of the captain, the science office, and the ship’s doctor, we get treated to the adventures of a handful of new recruits. A lot of new recruits. Why so many? Because they’re constantly dying on away missions. And they’re starting to catch on to the fact.
If the book’s title isn’t ringing true to by now, it would probably be a good time to inform you: the term “redshirt” in Star Trek lore is a lowly crew member, killed off to establish dramatic tension and danger to the main characters. They’re the cannon fodder. They’re the ones who die stupid, pointless deaths so other characters can look better.
And here, they’re the main characters.
To Boldly Go… While Fighting It
The hook of this book is the dawning awareness that our heroes come to realize that while they really are on a starship that really is travelling through space, they’re also characters on a crappy TV show. The powerful Narrative will periodically sweep over their lives, causing them to spew inane technobabble, make choices they would never make, sprout new abilities, and… well, die.
And that’s the crux of the thing. As our batch of junior officers come to figure out the nature of their existence, they strike out to find the source and do something about it.
It’s marvelous. Redshirts works not only as a gleeful send-up of Star Trek and its many imitators, it works as a pretty fun piece of science fiction writing, too. It’s a nifty adventure, with some fun characters and a mind bogglingly complex solution to their problem.
Not only is there the straight-ahead main adventure, there’s also a surprisingly robust meta-narrative going on. If you’ve ever wanted to see a character on a ship on a TV show in a book ask himself “what exactly is real, anyway?”, this is the story for you. There are some really great layers here.
On Closer Examination
What truly surprised me about Redshirts (the first time I read it) is that it also serves up some very emotionally stimulating content. You may have seen the longer version of the book’s title, Redshirts: A Novel With Three Codas. Allow me to explain.
I will not spoil a thing here, but suffice it to say, when the main storyline of what the Intrepid’s crew does to try and stop their cases of needless death runs out, the book is only about 75% done. The remainder of the pages are dedicated to a trio of short stories that go back and examine the lives of three secondary characters (who are not the crew members).
These extra stories are funny, weird, and devastating. They show these three characters examining the actions that took place around them during the main story, and struggling to cope with what’s happened. It takes astonishingly little to make me misty eyed, and even though I’ve read the book before, I still get choked up by the ending, especially the third coda. It’s optimistic, sad, and powerful, and I’ll never tire of reading it.
The Bottom Line
Frankly, if the description of the main plot doesn’t grab you, there’s not a lot here that will likely interest you in reading the book. It’s light and easy to read (except for the parts involving black holes… it’s such utter techno-nonsense I feel my brain collapse a bit every time I go through it) but if you’re not at least partly interested in reading a completely original take on Star Trek and its character tropes, you’re just not going to dig this.
But if that is your thing, I can’t recommend this enough. It’s a clever story with a surprisingly honest emotional core to it. You can rip through it in practically no time, and it’s a lot of fun.
Just watch out for ice sharks.
The Upsides
- Not only are the bridge crew not the main characters of the book, they’re barely there at all!
- The Box. The Box!!!
- The “you owe me” system Duvall introduces to the guys is… interesting. I can’t see using it, because I’d spend more time explaining it than using it.
The Downsides
- The technobabble is really intense in parts. Which is partly on purpose, I have no doubt, but it’s every bit as incomprehensible as one would expect of a Star Trek semi-satire.
- SPOILER (highlight to read): Does anyone else find it really odd that we never actually see the time travel? One moment they’re talking about diving into a black hole, the next, we’re in Burbank. Seriously. I wish the book had spent some time here. (end spoiler)
The Intermittent Critic 