Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts

Monday, 23 March 2026

REVIEW: Nobody's Sweetheart Now by Dale Smith

Dale Smith has somehow managed to write the perfect novel for me. There aren't very many people who would call a Goodnight Sweetheart pastiche/crossover with the periphery of the Doctor Who universe their perfect novel, but I am one of them. Stuart Douglas, head honcho of Obverse Books and commissioner of this novel, is another. Presumably, so is Dale Smith, and potentially, given the book's dedication, so is Richard Herring.

Nobody's Sweetheart Now is the third book of The New Adventures of Iris Wildthyme, which you can tell, because it's got the number two on the spine. The previous book, Courtney Milnestein's Mother, Maiden, Crone, was an unnumbered special and came out almost six years ago; book one, The Polythene Terror, by Iris's creator Paul Magrs, came out in 2019. I'd assumed this series had ended almost as soon as it began, so I'm very happy to see another book, by the brilliant Dale Smith, no less. 

Goodnight Sweetheart is an old favourite of mine, a cosy nineties sitcom with a fantasy bent. Nicholas Lyndhurst, as Gary Sparrow, travelled through time via a redbrick alleyway, walking happily between the 1940s and the 1990s, engaging in transtemporal bigamy. It got a bit more sci-fi towards the end, but mostly it was about the difficulties of leading a double life and the amusing situations that then arise. It was a fun series with a great cast, even when both of Gary's wives regenerated into new actresses halfway through.

Nobody's Sweetheart Now starts as an obvious parody, barely changing the character names. Gary Sparrow is now Trevor Tern. Ron is now Don. It's been moved from London to Manchester, but otherwise it seems like a pretty straightforward riff on the TV series, aside from the raucous presence of Iris Wildthyme. The truly inspired part is that both Gary's – sorry, Trevor's – wife and girlfriend are incarnations of Iris, the latter going by Ursula but actually being a rarely seen regeneration of the transtemporal adventuress. 

As it progresses, though, the book becomes something far cleverer than a mere pastiche. It's approximately 750% gayer, for a start, which becomes clear from the moment Trevor sets foot in the wartime pub and only develops from there. From the outset there's a clear theme of the dangers of nostalgia – especially the second-hand kind of nostalgia for a time one never lived through. Rose-tinted glasses aren't good for your eyes, it turns out, even if they do look fabulous. The deeper, more affecting theme, though, is the importance of being true to yourself, of embracing who you really are, whether you're a closeted man living an unsatisfying life or a time traveller who gave up the right to their name. 

This book is a very funny, joyfully silly and rather beautiful piece of work. Please, Obverse, don't let this be the last New Adventure for Iris. 

Nobody's Sweetheart Now is available from Obverse Books in paperback and ebook formats.

Wednesday, 20 March 2024

REVIEW: The Black Archive - Midnight by Philip Purser-Hallard

Obverse Books' Black Archive range is something of a marvel. I wouldn't have thought it was possible to find a book's worth of material to say about each and every Doctor Who story, but here we are, at the 69th volume. Philip Purser-Hallard (The Pendragon Protocol, The Vanishing Man, Of the City of the Saved...) delivers his fourth entry in the series with Midnight, analysing the 2008 episode widely considered one of modern Who's finest hours (or at least, one of its finest 43 minutes). It's even more impressive to create an engaging full-length piece on a single episode, although that this is even possible shows the depth of many of Doctor Who's 21st century episodes. Midnight itself is an episode that is crying out for a dissection like this, so it's surprising it's taken so long for the range to reach it.

In spite of episode's simple storyline and production, a consequence of the need to produce an episode cheaply and quickly before season four's big finale, it's a narrative filled with questions and room for exploration. Purser-Hallard delves into the traditions of the script, both televisual and theatrical, drawing fascinating parallels with productions both within the series (such as The Edge of Destruction) and without (Arthur Miller's The Crucible). Purser-Hallard analyses the social commentary within the episode, delving into each character's background, taking them apart to show remarkable depth for what, at first glance, may seem like sketched-in characters. He notes that the script's author, Russell T. Davies, picks out easily recognisable archetypes to populate his story, but that this adds depth and complexity without the need to spell everything about the characters out. Some of the analysis of the character names seems to be taking things a little far, though, seeing parallels that unlikely to be deliberate. Similarly, the seemingly counter-intuitive name for the planet and story, Midnight, was probably chosen for no deeper reason than it sounded cool.

Purser-Hallard takes a very writerly perspective on the episode, viewing it in context with the traditions of storytelling. As well as more contemporary forms of story, he adroitly links Midnight, with its nameless horror that steals the very voice of the protagonist, to fairytales and folklore. Even then, he brings it bang up to date by comparing it with the most recent Doctor Who episode, The Church on Ruby Road, with its own take on fairytale monsters. From a fan perspective, some of the most interesting parts of the book deal with the fiction itself. After all, with the possible exception of Listen, Midnight features the most obscure and unknowable monster of any Doctor Who story, simply asking for an essay discussing just who or what it is. Equally intriguing is the later section dealing with the Doctor's character in this episode, one which takes him to task for his many flaws; again, Purser-Hallard's essay reflects the story itself while also looking at it through the lens of the most recent Doctor Who episodes, in which David Tennant returned as an older, more refined version of his Doctor.

As effective as the main essays are, the part that was most informative for me was the appendix, which details the three stage productions of Midnight. This was news to me, and it was fascinating to read the differences between the productions in their approaches to performance and casting, backed up by interviews with some of the creatives involved. Altogether, a very strong entry to the Black Archive, giving the reader plenty to think about next time they watch this acclaimed episode.

Sunday, 26 November 2023

Forty years of the Discworld

Years ending in a three really are among the busiest for notable anniversaries of my favourite series, with November being the busiest month. 23rd November 2023 is Doctor Who's 60th anniversary, and the very next day it's the Discworld's 40th! Unfortunately, busy life got in the way so I am posting this on the 26th rather than the 24th, but what's a day or two among cosmic turtles?

The Colour of Magic was published on 24th November 1983, the first novel in the late, great Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, which would eventually run to forty-one books, not including the various tie-ins, short stories, Science of Discworld books, expansive map books and assorted ephemera.

Sadly, Pratchett made an appointment with Death in 2015, after just about finishing the final book, The Shepherd's Crown. He made it known that he didn't truly consider it finished, but he was no longer able to continue editing, and the book was published posthumously a few months after his death. It hardly seems like it can be over eight years since we lost him, but it is somehow true.

The Discworld books have brought me so much joy over the years. They weren't the first of Pratchett's books I read, but there's a reason he so rarely strayed beyond that funny little world once he'd created it. Simply, it's a perfect setting to explore the absurdity and beauty of human life. The Colour of Magic was a pretty straightforward sword-and-sorcery parody, but as the series went on, Pratchett used the Discworld, and particularly its first city, Ankh-Morpork, to take the real world to account. His books were, very soon, works of literary genius, yet they never for one moment stopped being a silly fantasy parody. There was always a touch of cynicism to the books, but by end, they'd become angrier, as Pratchett stopped pulling his punches - but they never stopped being hilarious.

There follows my tenuous top ten Discworld books, which could very well look different if you asked me again next week. It's not a reading order, but it is, perhaps, a good way to start. Or, if you're already a fan and have been reading them for years, a good thing to argue with.

10) Mort (1987)

The fourth novel, and the first one to really reach the Discworld's full potential. Death, one of my favourite characters in fiction, a looming, cowled skeleton who comes to claim your soul at the moment after your last moment, is also a rather lovely gent. Often he'd rather be doing anything other than his job. After some fun cameos in the first three books (he'd actually appear in all but two of the novels), Mort is the first to focus on Death and his rather lonely existence. 

His bewildered young apprentice, Mort, is a sweet and sympathetic character, even as he beaks reality itself trying to do what he thinks is the right thing. The book also gives us a proper introduction to Death's adoptive daughter, Ysabel, a rather sinister figure in her first brief appearance in Magic but a more loveable one here. Then there's Albert, Death's servant, master of frying and secretly... well, secretly.


9) A Hat Full of Sky (2004)

In the latter years of the series, the stream of novels that focused on the witches branched into a sub-series of Young Adult books starring up-and-coming witch Tiffany Aching. This is her second appearance, aged eleven, and is a sequel to her first book The Wee Free Men and the short story "The Sea and Little Fishes" from the fantasy collection Legends. 

In spite of being ostensibly for younger readers, the Tiffany books are among the most intelligent and questioning of Prachett's books (indeed, his kids' books have never talked down to their audience and there's little between them and his adult-aimed works). Tiffany has to deal with learning how to be a witch from much, much older witches who all know best and disagree vehemently with each other, as well as being the Big Wee Hag of the Nac Mac Feegle, Pratchett's race of little people who are both a parody of woad-covered Celtic tribesmen and the Smurfs. 

All the Tiffany books are wonderful, but this one stands out for me. In all her storeis the young witch stands as one of the Disc's defenders against powerful entities from beyond, in this case facing the quite terrifying Hiver.

                                                        8) Feet of Clay (1996)

Not the first Discworld book I read (that was Guards! Guards!) but the first I bought, brand new, when it was published. Both are stories of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, the rag-tag but increasingly effective police force headed by Sam Vimes. Ankh-Morpork is the melting pot to melt all melting pots, with all manner of people from every background imaginable, many of them not even remotely human. 

Feet of Clay deals with the lives of the downtrodden, the necessity of resistence, and the perils of dehumanisation. Of course, it's easy to dehumanise someone when they're not even human, and yet we on the Earth manage to do it to our fellow Homo sapiens with depressing frequency. Drawing on Jewish folklore, Feet of Clay is the first book to focus on the Disc's literally silent underclass, the golems, and discusses what might happen if they finally decided they deserved a voice. All of this wrapped up in two murder mysteries, and it introduces one of series' most beloved characters, Cheery Littlebottom, who will start a revolution in dwarfish gender politics.

7) Witches Abroad (1991)

The third novel of the witches, centring on the first among equals, the great Granny Weatherwax. Equal Rites, the third Discworld novel, had introduced Granny, and Wyrd Sisters had given her a coven. The lascivious Nanny Ogg and the wet-behind-the-ears Magrat Garlick joined Granny, the three standing as the mother, the maiden and... the other one. 

Witches Abroad took them on a tour of Genua, a nation reminiscent of New Orleans, with a bit of Southern Europe and a bit of the Caribbean thrown in. When Magrat unexpectedly inherits the role of fairy godmother and must seek out her new ward Emberella, Granny is forced to confont the mystical machinations of her estranged sister Lilith. It's a wonderful send-up of fairytale tropes, while poking fun at parochial attitudes as the Lancre Three find themselves face-to-face with all manner of foreign nonsense and some of the most dreadful jokes in the series. "Get me an alligator sandwich - and don't take too long about it!"

6) Hogfather (1996)

Pratchett does Christmas by taking it back to its dirty pagan roots. The Discworld version of Christmas if Hogswatch, a midwinter festival personified by the Hogfather, a powerful and vital entity who thrives on the belief of the Disc's children. When the Auditors of Reality decide enough is enough and humanity really need to be sorted out, they go for their very soul and employ an assassin to take out the Hogfather. Fortunately, Death is on hand to step in and take the reigns, quite literally. 

Human belief and our need to tell stories is central to the Discworld's philosophy, and it's never more present than here. The Hogfather is a grubbier but obvious reflection of Father Christmas or Santa Claus, and likewise has evolved through the centuries as culture has reshaped him. It goes deeper than that, as Death's granddaughter Susan (it's complicated), a governess who beats up bogeymen to help her wards sleep, faces a threat to the very nature of childhood imagination. A perfect Christmas tipple, and a thought-provoker when you're beginning to wonder which of the various minor deities you're going to encourage your child to believe in. You won't think of the Tooth Fairy in the same way again.

5) Going Postal (2004)

A wonderful, Victorian-style novel (it has chapters and everything) which introduces the fabulously named Moist von Lipwig, another late addition to the Discworld's all-time great characters. An unrepentant conman, Moist given one last chance to evade the hangman's noose when the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork appoints him head of the city's ailing Post Office. This may not sound like a recipe for a gripping novel, but it truly is, as Moist faces the brutal opposition of Reacher Gilt, owner of the Clacks network (the Disc's sempahore-based long-distance messaging service). Gilt will stop at nothing to maintain his monopoly over communications, and so unravels a web of conspiracy and murder.

Moist's continual twisting out of trouble as he gradually comes to care about something bigger than himself is a joy to read, as the man proves he can talk his way out of or into almost anything. Going Postal also continues the golems' story, as Moist is assisted by the unstoppable Mr Pump, and falls for the head of the Golem Trust, the formidable Adora Belle Dearheart (aka "Spike"), the one person who can see through everything he tries. Moist's story continues in Making Money and Raising Steam, but sadly it never reached what I am sure was its ultimate endpoint with Moist becoming Patrician himself

4) Small Gods (1992)

Set some considerable time before the other books (although exactly when is a point of some debate), Small Gods follows Brutha, a simple novice of the Omnian Church. A brutal theocracy, Omnia adheres strictly to the worship of the great god Om. You might think that a monotheistic religion wouldn't do too well on a world that is objectively home to thousands of gods, but there we are - as long as he has enough believers, Om will remain the great and powerful one god of them all. Unfortunately, when he chooses to manifest for the final time, he discovers that Brutha is the only one left who actually believes in him. As a result of this, he manifests as a small, grumpy, one-eyed tortoise.

A savage satire on organised religion, Small Gods takes on the close-mindedness and hypocrisy of "true believers," the brutality of Christian history and the difference between religion and faith without mercy. Yet, in true Discworld style, it remains whimsical, witty and very funny. This should be required reading at any faith school.

3) Snuff (2011)

One of the last books in the series, and one of the best, Snuff is another one that focuses on Sam Vimes of the Watch. By this stage he has moved up several stations in life, and is now Duke of Ankh, much to his chargrin. Holidaying in the countryside with his wife, Lady Sybil Ramkin, and their poo-obsessed son Sam, Vimes stumbles upon one of the few truly brutal crimes to appear in the series, as a young girl is found to have been murdered. That girl is, however, a goblin, the last of the uncivilised fantasy races of the Discworld, underground dwellers generally considered vermin by "civilised" society.

While Snuff is a little less accessible than most of the books, being that it builds on a number of elements from earlier stories, Pratchett's deftness means that it's easy to catch up on the complexities of latter-day Discworld lore and politics. As with Feet of Clay, Snuff deals with the dehumanisation of other cultures, with the ever-present reality that even in the most progressive societies there are alsways some who are treated as the lowest of the low. By this point, the Watch itself includes dwarfs, trolls, vampires, a werewolf, a gnome and a golem, and even - gasp! - foreigners. Goblins, however, are just animals, right? But when had anyone ever tried talking to them to find out?

While there's some unflinching stuff in here, there's also some of the series' most wholesome material. The meeting between Young Sam and the goblin girl Tears of the Mushroom is particularly sweet.

2) Reaper Man (1991)

The second Death-centric book, and the last to focus on him alone without involving Susan. This is a tale of two halves, in some editions even presenting them in different typefaces. One thread deals with Death's unceremonious sacking, leading him to take up a new life as a farmhand for the wonderfully straightforward Miss Flitworth. The other deals with the consequences of the temporary lack of a psychopomp, as spare life force builds up, causing peculiar supernatural events, such as the unexpected un-death of elderly wizard Windle Poons. (Pratchett truly had a way with names; unlike Death, who take an age to come up with the moniker Bill Door.)

It's a slim book, in spite of the two storylines, but it's quite perfectly contained and rather moving. Death's story is the better of the two, as he learns a little more of what it means to be human, with his very respectful friendship with Miss Flitworth being a highlight. The other section, the Ankh-Morpork part, introduces various supernatural characters, some of whom, such as zombie rights activist Reg Show and small-medium-at-large Mrs Cake, reappear in later books. It also brings in the current Faculty of Unseen University, who have to deal with the side effects of the excess life force, and an alien invasion of Ankh-Morpork, in the form of snow globes. Believe it or not, it does eventually make sense.

Reaper Man is an easy read that, in spite of its silliness, will stick with you a long time after you finish it.

1) Night Watch (2002)

Absolute perfection. While the City Watch books include some of the very best of the series, Night Watch stands above them all, as Sam Vimes is thrown back thirty years into Ankh-Morpork history, in the days building up to the Glorious Revolution. Immediately arrested by his own younger, greener self, Vimes is forced to step into the shoes of his own mentor after he is murdered by Carcer, the truly vile character who is also swept back in time.

Much of the fun of this novel comes from seeing the younger versions of familiar characters, such as Havelock Vetinari, destined to become Patrician but currently an unpopular boy at the Assassins' Guild School; the boy - or boy-like individual - known as Nobby Nobbs, one day to become the least law-abiding watchman ever; and a still livign Reg Shoe, already a staunch campaigner for, well, anything going. Nonetheless, it's still a riveting story for a newcomer to the series, a gripping thriller that reminds us that power - be it that of the politician or policeman - comes with both responsibility and tempation. It also reminds us that history is going on around us all the time, and that we might just have to stand our ground when faced with the darker realities of that.

It's a harder, less comedic book, but all the stronger for it, and when the laughs come, they're truly earnt.

Thursday, 14 April 2022

TREK REVIEW: "Living Memory" by Christopher L. Bennett

Bennett's ongoing mission to plug the gaps in Star Trek continuity and reopen forgotten storylines reaches what might be its ultimate expression in Living Memory, as he takes on two unrelated elements from Trek's early history that have been largely ignored.

Firstly is one of the original Star Trek's most idiotic plot points. In season two's “The Changeling,” the Nomad probe wipes Uhura's memory as it tries to understand her illogical human mind, leaving her with only her basic functional and linguistic skills. The viewer is then expected to accept that Uhura is able to relearn her entire education, skills, training and presumably every event in her life so far. You can't help but feel sorry for Nichelle Nichols as she has to play the now childlike Uhura with a straight face, and the full knowledge that this time next week she'll be all back to normal.

In an otherwise excellent episode, it's a moment that destroys all suspension of disbelief, so it's unsurprising that we never hear of it again onscreen. Bennett, however, takes it as the starting point of a moving character journey, as well as a vital missing piece to the puzzle at the heart of the novel's major threat. Unforeseen phenomena dubbed “vacuum flares” have begun appearing in space, threatening ships and eventually inhabited planets, and the only clue as to their origin is that they appear to be following the route of the USS Enterprise, specifically those planet's where Uhura made planetfall. Her past actions are somehow linked to this new danger, which is a bit of a problem now that she can't remember anything earlier than season two.

Exploring the “in-between” era that links The Motion Picture and The Wrath of Khan, Bennett has provided a great deal of depth to the familiar characters in the past, and this book is no exception. While Uhura's quest to recover her lost memories is essential to solving the plot, but more importantly it's a heartfelt personal mission for her. We have a rare opportunity to learn more about Uhura's life, as she struggles to reconnect with her family, and abandoned friends and lovers, who she no longer remembered and couldn't bear to see before, reminded as she was only of her loss. It's a brilliant way of taking a very silly sci-fi plot point and exploring the actual long-term effect the trauma would have one someone suffering it, something that didn't happen much in the very episodic series itself.

Within this storyline we also have more exploration of Uhura's close relationship with her Enterprise colleagues, who become her replacement family after the memory wipe. She is particularly close to Scotty – who has his own traumatic memories of the Nomad encounter – and to Spock, her commanding officer and something of a mentor in this novel. We also see that she has remained close friends with Sulu and Chekov, although they're both called away on their own work for much of the book. For Chekov, this is investigating the vacuum flares, while Sulu becomes involved with Starfleet security. Admittedly, this does seem like it's the wrong way round.

The second major storyline deals with the Arcturians, an only briefly seen alien species that was created for The Motion Picture and described in background materials as running a clone army. This is, of course, pretty hard to reconcile with the Federation's ethical code, but since it was never mentioned on screen most writers have ignored it altogether. Bennett, instead, tries to rationalise it as a misunderstanding of the Arcturians' elite soldiers, the Warborn, who were genetically engineered centuries earlier and have been kept in stasis since. Now, with the stasis failing, they're being thawed out, and a handful of them are admitted to Starfleet Academy to see if they can integrate and find a new purpose in life.

It's an interesting addition to the wider Trek universe and examines the Federation's supposedly all-inclusive nature. The Warborn's introduction to Starfleet raises a lot of tensions, from peace protesters already concerned with the apparent militarisation of Starfleet, to those in Starfleet itself who worry that the Warborn would be used again in a war setting – or even lead to war by inflaming tensions with the Klingons or Romulans.

The Warborn cadets get their own distinct characters, as do several other new recruits from various Federation races. None of them really stood out for me in the same way as the established Trek characters, although I was taken with Ashley Janith-Lau, a highly intelligent peace activist who forms a relationship with Dr. McCoy. The good doctor and Admiral Kirk are largely confine to Earth in this story, as Kirk is essentially the Warborn's sponsor in the Academy. The tensions rise to the point where a murder is committed and one of the Warborn are suspected. This brings a murder mystery element to the latter part of the book, although it's a little underdone.

The two storylines run in parallel but there's little to link them, although one nice touch is that “Arcturian rapid learning techniques” that are used on Warborn soldiers were also used to help Uhura get back up to speed after the Nomad encounter. There's a lot going on in both storylines at the end of the book, but ultimately it's a little anticlimactic. However, I adored the eventual explanation for the phenomenon that's threatening local space, and Uhura's link to it. Without spoiling it here, I can say that it's ingeniously thought out, and hinges on a truly fascinating science fiction concept that brought some of the greats, like Arthur C. Clarke and Stephen Baxter to mind. Altogether, not the strongest of Bennett's books but still with a great deal to recommend it.

Tuesday, 1 March 2022

WHO REVIEW ROUND-UP: The Wintertime Paradox

 

This an overdue review, given that this book came out in 2020 in the Christmas lead-up and I finally got it for Christmas '21, yet only now in March am I finding the time to sit down and review it. Which is negligent, because once I got this collection I read in a couple of days.

We've had plenty of Doctor Who short story collections over the years, many of which had overarching themes, from the most restrictive to the loose and nominal. The Wintertime Paradox stands out because not only is there a general theme – Christmas, that well-worn favourite – but all the stories are by a single author. Unless I've missed something along the way, I think this is the first time Doctor Who have done such a thing, although Jenny Colgan received a collected set of her stories and novellas around the same time.

Dave Rudden brings a new and interesting style to Doctor Who, presenting stories which cover various genres and subjects but still recognisably of one voice. His stories are easy to read and often very funny, but pack a punch as well. This isn't a feel-good book, in spite of the Christmassy theme; Rudden clearly gets that Christmas cheer works best alongside the bittersweet and spooky parts of that time of year. What's exciting as a Wilderness Era fan is the secondary theme that runs through much of the collection: the paradox of the title.

Rudden clearly got caught up in Doctor Who in the same period I did, and is one of the few writers to call back to the Eighth Doctor Adventures era of BBC Books that was one of the main ranges of Doctor Who between 1997 and 2005. Unlike the 90s New Adventures by Virgin, the EDAs haven't had much influence on contemporary Who, excepting the pretty major impact of a devastating Time War that saw the Doctor destroy Gallifrey to protect the universe at large. I much prefer the attitude that the War in Heaven seen in the EDAs and the Last Great Time War that preceded the modern series were different iterations of the same catastrophic event.

Rudden runs with this, presenting a post-War universe that is still reeling from the many interventions and revisions perpetrated by the Doctor and other belligerents in the War. As such, this is the first time in decades that official Doctor Who has called back to the War in Heaven, and specifically to Faction Paradox, the renegade cultists who were so important to the EDAs but seemingly didn't survive beyond that era (excepting fascinating work by Obverse Books). For most of the collection there are little hints and cameos by two surviving Faction agents, disconnected from their history during the Doctor's latest destruction/removal of Gallifrey, and they don't actually get a story to themselves until the twelfth story, “The Paradox Moon,” where they finally come face-to-face with the Thirteenth Doctor.

However, the Faction's influence is felt throughout the collection. They work in the shadows, as it should be. The gorgeous “Visiting Hours” focuses on Rory coming to see River at the Stormcage prison, bringing with him a plated-up Christmas dinner. It's absolutely lovely and tugs at the heartstrings even as a chaotic prison-break featuring powerful alien criminals goes on around them. And of course the Faction are there in the postscript – River is the most obvious target for them ever, both in herself and as a route to the Doctor.

Many of the stories work by sketching in the ongoing events around, under and behind the stories we're familiar with. “Father of the Daleks” proposes the odd but somehow entirely believable revelation that the Doctor meets with Davros every Christmas for a neutral parlay, as they both try to convince the other to see things from their point-of-view. It hammers home just how frighteningly similar the two ancient characters are, and works as a bridge to “The Magician's Apprentice” (as well as giving us an Eleven/Davros story, a pairing that works remarkably well). “A Day to Yourselves” is just brilliant, seeing the Ninth Doctor, just before the events of “Rose,” continually intervening in major galactic events only to find one of his later selves has got their first. It's a funny but affecting story of the Doctor working to heal themself by involving themself in their own past when they were most vulnerable.

Other stories don't feature the Doctor at all but focus on supporting characters. “A Perfect Christmas” is an adventure for the Paternoster Gang, but one that ties into the machinations of the Papal Mainframe seen in “The Time of the Doctor,” itself a deeply Paradoxical organisation. “For the Girl Who Has Everything” is a spot-on stoory for Osgood, leading up to her involvement in The Day of the Doctor but also managing to provide a well-reasoned follow-up to “The Sontaran Stratagem.” “Missing Habitas Frond” is an adventure for Missy, who is clearly just a joy to write for every author who gets to play with her.

While it's heavily focused on the BBC Wales series, classic era Doctors do get involved. “A Girl Called Doubt” features the Fifth Doctor, but mostly focuses on the experiences of one soldier in the Cyber Wars, and has a gut-punch reveal. “We Will Feed You to the Trees” is as effective a Seventh Doctor story as I've read in a while, seeing him not pulling the strings like a master schemer but heading somewhere to investigate a mystery and not stopping until he's left things better than he found them. It features a fascinating central sci-fi concept too, the sort of thing Doctor Who doesn't do enough of these days.

Christmas With the Plasmavores” barely features the Doctor, instead being a standalone horror story that presents a clever new take on the monstrous race from “Smith and Jones.” “He's Behind You” and “Inflicting Christmas” are solid adventures for Ten and Rose, and Twelve and Bill respectively, but don't sing like the others in the collection. Even so, they're well-written, entertaining adventures, better than an awful lot of what gets published in the range lately.

Suitably paradoxically, the collection advertises itself as containing twelve stories, but the reprint version actually includes thirteen. “Canaries,” a previously released e-story that ties into the now defunct Time Lord Victorious event (remember when that seemed to be a big deal?) Primarily, though, it's a further exploration of the Faction's involvement in the Doctor's life and the endless array of discontinuities that have built up through constant time travel. It works far better here than as part of the TLV crossover, and, rather appropriately, isn't exactly the same version that was previously released. Stories, like time, can be rewritten, over and over again...

Sunday, 24 January 2021

WHO REVIEW: Forgotten Lives, ed. Philip Purser-Hallard

 


It's surprising that it's taken so long for a book like this to appear. We've had anthologies with unknown, invented and alternative Doctors before (such as Unbound and Walking in Eternity, and even to an extent with the BBC's Short Trips and Side Steps), but remarkably, no one has ever sat down and put together a collection revolving around the ever-controversial "Morbius Doctors" before.

Perhaps it's the controversial nature of these mysterious pre-Doctors that has prevented most fans from engaging with them. Fandom has had such a rigidly defined idea of who the Doctor is for so long that versions of the character that contradict this have been thrown out. Even before the eight faces of the Doctor appeared in the mind battle with Morbius, there were more versions of the Doctor than the official four incarnations played by Hartnell, Troughton, Pertwee and Tom Baker. The introduction to Forgotten Lives chats happily about these extra versions, from Peter Cushing's eccentric inventor Dr. Who to Trevor Martin's theatrical incarnation, and goes on to say:

"When The Brain of Morbius episode four showed us (and it did so deliberately and, whatever the more conservative species of old-school Doctor Who fan may tell you, with no significant ambiguity) that Hartnell's 'first' Doctor had at least eight predecessors who'd never been on screen, it was really nothing revolutionary – just part of Doctor Who's long history of reinvention and revelation."

This is, of course, completely true. The eight faces seen in The Brain of Morbius were always and explicitly intended to be earlier faces of the Doctor, and while it's possible to interpret them as faces of Morbius or something more contrived, this requires deliberate misreading of the scene. Of course, this contradicted pretty much everything else on screen up to that point and beyond, besides very tiny hints at bits of the Doctor's life we hadn't seen. It was one of those oddities that exist in the series' continuity, which by 1976 was already full of curiosities and contradictions.

Aside from the lightest of touches and one inarguable cameo in Lance Parkin's Missing Adventure Cold Fusion twenty years later, these well-dressed gentlemen (being in actuality production team members in fancy dress) were forgotten about and dismissed by licensed fiction and mostly by fandom at large. Which was a crying shame, because the idea that there were some secret lives before Hartnell's Doctor is just so much fun that it's surely impossible not to want to play with it. Finally, Chris Chibnall's latest season of the revived TV series bombed continuity with the notion that the Doctor has had countless lives before, and explicitly included the Morbius Doctors in this by showing them in the Doctor's bombardment of memories. (Of course, if you wanted to be a real stick in the mud you could insist she was just remembering the mind battle and that they were still the faces of Morbius, but really, where's the fun in that? And would Morbius have such a fine selection of hats?)

So it's now quite right that Obverse Books presents us with a collection of full-fledged adventures for these Doctors, taking those tiny glimpses and extrapolating them into eight new versions of the character. These are timely children, indeed, and whether you're an old-school fan who's been pondering their existence since 1976 or a recent viewer who's desperate to know more about the Doctor's mysterious and ever-contradictory backstory, Forgotten Lives is a must. And nothing here, in The Brain of Morbius or The Timeless Children stops Hartnell from being the First Doctor. He always will be, no matter how many faces retroactively come before him.

Eight authors bring to life eight Doctors, in this beautiful volume illustrated by the uncomparable Paul Hanley, who I believe must have depicted more incarnations of the Doctor than anyone in his artwork. If there's one complaint to be had about the book it's that Hanley's artwork isn't given enough prominence inside, but I understand this is due to costs. Nonetheless, you're missing out if you only see the cover versions and the black-and-white prints at the back of the book, and must check out the full portraits on Hanely's Patreon. However, each of the plates in the book includes a wonderfully silly note on "The Changing Face of Doctor Who" which makes up for the lack of colour and clarity.

The collection kicks off with "The Knocking in the Mine Shaft," which puts the Christopher Barry Doctor, the earliest of these incarnations, in an adventure in historic Cornwall that involves spooky goings on down the tin mines. Drawing on the local folklore of the Knockers – mining goblins with a perfectly sensible name – who naturally turn out to be of a more extraterrestrial origin than expected. The Doctor here is very much a medical doctor, a practising one at that, who goes by the pseudonym of Doctor Medec and has very much assimilated into the local community by the time this adventure starts.

Each story presents a distinct era of the Doctor's life, and the feeling, in general, is that a very long time passes between each one. Collection editor Philip Purser-Hallard presents the next Doctor, portrayed by Robert Banks Stewart, who speaks with a distinct Scottish accent (I had in my head the voice of Bill Paterson as I read the dialogue). While still flitting about time, this Doctor has a base in WWII London where he acts as an observer for his superiors, while also being the most alchemical of this always mercurial character. The story is told by his secretary, the charming Miss Weston, who joins him on his investigation into what's essentially a vintage take on Terror of the Autons, but both funnier and more atmospheric than that implies. There's a fair bit of The Avengers (Steed and Peel, not Marvel) in there too. This Doctor has some of my favourite characterisation in the book, really coming alive on the page via the tellings of Miss Weston. His bow-tied far future self would be very disappointed in his lack of knowledge when it comes to silent comedy, though.

The Doctor's lives span long enough that we hear of multiple different families, but only in Andrew Hickey's "The Cross of Venus" do we actually see them. Featuring the Christopher Baker Doctor, this story feels rather like one from an old World Distributors annual, except that it's very good indeed. It's a clever extrapolation backwards (a backstrapolation?) to the 1940s, imagining how Doctor Who might have existed then, and sees the characters travel to the distant space year 1975 and the first manned mission to Venus. There's some clever playing with expectations when it comes to the nature of the villain, but the most striking element of the story is that the Doctor is travelling with his two precocious children Jilly and Cedric. They're wonderfully drawn characters, and I can't help but wonder... is one of them the parent of John and Gillian?

Based purely on the fleeting images of the Doctors, my favourite was always the fourth (or fifth in the reverse-order they were shown): Phillip Hinchcliffe's Cavalier incarnation. With so little to go on but their fabulous outfits, it's not surprising that many of these Doctors make a big deal of their clothes, and this flamboyant fancypants is no exception. He's only just regenerated, allowing for an age spent in the TARDIS fixing his look. This Doctor's wonderfully full of himself and I love him for it, sashaying onto a planet and immediately getting locked up, and naturally taking it upon himself to overturn the entire civilisation's corrupt legal system. Kara Dennison's "Gauntlet of Absolution" is a cracking adventure.

At the halfway point comes the only Morbius Doctor to have appeared in licenced print fiction before, the blond and bearded Douglas Camfield incarnation. This version always looked like a real charmer, but interestingly, Lance Parkin takes a darker, more serious view of him in "Past Lives." Parkin, of course, is the one writer who absolutely had to write for this collection without fail, and his story, while the briefest, is one of the most fitting thematically. Dealing with a Doctor seeking to secure justice against galactic war criminals, this story says a lot about retribution and responsbility with admirable restraint. I also feel that this is what Chibnall's version of the forgotten Doctor was trying to be, rather than what we got. However the Thirteenth Doctor complains about how harsh and ruthless Jo Martin's Fugitive Doctor is, her actions are no different to what we've seen various Doctors do before. The Camfield Doctor seems like he could genuinely take a step too far.

Aditia Bidikar has a unique voice within Obverse Books and Doctor Who fiction and it's always fascinating. "Valhalla Must Fall!" is a strange and intriguing tale that covers things from millennia-old virtual lives to a sentient mountain. In amongst these mind-bending concepts (careful, your brain case might explode) is the Graeme Harper Doctor, and the character has never seemed more otherwordly and mysterious. Each of these Doctors has their own parallel story in Hanley's illustrations, but with Harper's it's truly a whole adventure, as Hanley not only discovered a remarkable truth about the director's appearance in that odd costume but (with a nudge from Cody Schell) made this Doctor less gender-specific than we might have thought. Bidikar's story goes out of its way to never refer to the Doctor by any pronoun – they're always "the Doctor" – and so salt-of-the-earth bloke Harper becomes the face of a genderqueer incarnation.

Jay Eales provides the penultimate story, "The Other Side," and it's one of the best in the book, a storming adventure story which sees the Doctor land in a civilisation seemingly split in two by an alien forcefield. A rather Orwellian story of abuse of power, it sees the Robert Holmes Doctor, resplendent in his finery and chewing on his pipe, acting as a rather unwilling agent for the Time Lords. Rather like the Black Widow in The Avengers (Marvel, not Steed and Peel), this Doctor has red in his ledger and is only going along with these missions because he's trying to tip the balance back in the right direction. Plus, he's kind of kept on a lead. While he's perhaps the most troubled Doctor, he's also tremendously charismatic, forcing his way through the story on sheer personality. Things don't always go to plan for this incarnation though, and an unexpected encounter with his own future sees him at his most vulnerable.

Finally, the eighth of the pre-Doctors stars in Paul Driscoll's "Doctor Crocus and the Pages of Fear." George Gallaccio's Doctor always looked like the most fun travel with out of the eight, based more on the extra behind-the-scenes photos which showed him with a lovely, twinkling smile. Driscoll's jumped on that, with this dimpled Doctor revelling in his appearance as just "made for the 1880s." However, he arrives in what would be a contemporary adventure for an incarnation set before Hartnell and just starting out, so it's predominantly in the 1950s. The story deals with the notorious moral panic around comicbooks at that time, which is just like the moral panic around heavy metal in the 1990s and violent video games in the 2000s. It's quite right that the Doctor would be repelled by the idea that children can be warped by slightly dangerous adventure stories, games or music, but this is just the doorway into a ripping sci-fi adventure.

I really can't praise this collection enough. Each of the eight stories is a great success and each Doctor a bold and unique version of the character. It's an excellent set of stories and I recommend it heartily to any Doctor Who fan who's looking to broaden their horizons within the show. My only gripe is that I'm tremendously envious I wasn't involved.

Monday, 18 January 2021

WHO REVIEW: All Flesh is Grass (Time Lord Victorious)



Well, this is the big one. It's the epicentre of the Time Lord Victorious storyline, the return to full length prose by the Eighth Doctor, the unprecedented team-up of the Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Doctors and a right royal monster mash to boot.

In the the cliffhanging final scene of The Knight, the Fool and the Dead, the Tenth Doctor, beginning his crusade against the Kotturuh and death itself, is confronted by the Eighth Doctor on a Dalek warship, and the Ninth Doctor on a vampire coffin-ship. This ties in with the DWM comic strip and with the Big Finish audios, the latter of which I haven't got round to yet, but it's all easily pieced together with the brief exposition from the Eighth Doctor and Brian the Ood. You could enjoy this plenty as a prose-only event, but grabbing the other formats builds a bigger picture. I'm less clear from the story here how the Tenth Doctor comics and the Dalek cartoon fit in, but I think they're knock-on effects of the Tenth Doctor's disastrous alteration of history here, which has brought his earlier selves back to fight him.

Una McCormack is one of the most prolific modern Who writers. With this novel, she's written for eight incarnations of the Doctor, I think (plus a ton of Star Trek novels and some Blake's 7 material). She gets the Doctor down to a tee, notably the differences and similarities between his incarnations. It's fun having Eight, Nine and Ten together since, while being successive (well, almost) they have wildly different ways of approaching things. The Eighth Doctor here is still fundamentally optimistic but sarcastic as hell, the Ninth Doctor is tending his war wounds and the Tenth is so fundamentally full of himself he knows he's his own worst enemy. I mean, he's literally his own worst enemy in this one, but you know what I'm saying. Yet they also work so brilliantly together. It isn't long before Ten stands down and the three Doctors try to work out a way to get out of this mess without making things worse (and just possibly making things better), and they work tremendously well as a team.

There's a lot of colour in this novel. The Ninth Doctor gets a short-term companion in the form of Ikalla, a vampiress who develops considerably throughout the novel (or perhaps the Doctor just learns to see her differently). Eight doesn't have a companion really, but is accompanied for a good portion by Brian, and also Hector, a spider plant (so that's where he came from! Monstrus Beauty now makes perfect sense). He has some great interplay with the Daleks, particularly the Prime Strategist who's become such a persistent character in Time Lord Victorious. Ten saddles himself with some galactic mercenaries but can't help feeling sorry for them and overpaying. It's like he's trying to prove he's the big bad God of Time but can't help feeling a bit bad about it all the time.

It's a rattling good read, anyway. I mean, it's got a vampire Dalek in it. How can you not love that? 


Placement:

For the Eighth Doctor, uncertain. It's straight after the BF Time Lord Victorious audios, but while they and this show him in his Time War costume, he reads as much younger and more positive here. He's perturbed by the idea of a universe without Gallifrey, but not distraught, so this is surely before the first destruction of Gallifrey in The Ancestor Cell (most new series books would ignore this but given the cross-pollination of ranges going on here I can't believe McCormack didn't at least consider this). I could happily see this placed during the earlier EDAs, especially as he mentions Romana and K9, tying back to the Shada webcast, which is very early on. 

For the Ninth Doctor, in between the penultimate and closing scenes of the DWM comic strip Monstrous Beauty, while Rose is recovering. Some time between "The Long Game" and "The Empty Child," most likely (could be either side of "Father's Day").

For the Tenth Doctor, immediately after The Knight, the Fool and the Dead, itself immediately after "The Waters of Mars."


Wednesday, 30 December 2020

WHO REVIEW: The Knight, the Fool and the Dead (Time Lord Victorious)

This novel is part of the already quite sprawling Time Lord Victorious event, and while some of these different elements seem quite tenuously related the main strand, this is right in the very centre of it all. Picking up pretty much straight after the Doctor goes all power mad at the end of The Waters of Mars, it sees him travel back to the Dark Times at the very dawn of the universe simply because there's no one around to stop him.

It's a bit of a retcon, the whole concept of this crossover, since on screen the Doctor appeared to get the stuffing knocked out of him by Adelaide Brook's death and renounced his Time Lord Victorious ways... but then he did shoot off for a victory lap around the cosmos rather than go face his fate when the Ood showed up. So while it doesn't quite fit to the letter of what we saw, it does fit the ethos, with perhaps the most arrogant of Doctors (yes, even more than Six or Three) throwing his weight around. 


The BBC could have got someone a bit more... daring, I guess, to write this essential novel, but then, I suppose you want a safe pair of hands for something like this, and Steve Cole is a good choice in that regard. His prose is solid and easy to read, he has a good grasp of the Doctor's character(s), and he has a lot of experience. He was the range editor for the BBC Eighth Doctor Adventures and Past Doctor Adventures novels for a good while, wrote a bunch of them (often under pseudonyms Michael Collier and Tara Samms), came back for the New Series Adventures, did a whack of Big Finish audios, some Iris Wildthyme short stories, about a hundred comic strips for Battles in Time back in the early days of the new series. Basically, he's got form, and while some of his work is pretty forgettable, he's also responsible for some of my very favourite Who stories.

The Dark Times turn out to be a lot brighter and more lively than we might have expected from previous glimpses (something even the Doctor notices). This is an era before the invention of death, when everyone is immortal, barring accidents. It's a fascinating concept, and I wish there'd been scope for more exploration of how societies would evolve in such a fundamentally different universe. After throwing around Dark Times concepts in the other stories and showing us glimpses of the Kotturuh, this book brings them front and centre. They're truly nightmarish, Lovecraftian creations, and for reasons of their own, have given themselves the mission to assign limited lifespans to all of the universe.

It interesting seeing the Doctor confronted with what something that's part of his established ancient history, only to be reviled at the visceral personal cost of it. It's a great inversion of the situation in The Fires of Pompeii, and it's good to see the Doctor on the wrong side of destiny. Of course, this is the Doctor, who can overthrow empires when he's in a good mood. In a bad mood, he starts his own crusade against the Kotturuh and vows to rewrite the entire history of the universe. In spite of Cole's background on the BBC EDAs, this novel reads a lot like the New Adventures, with a frighteningly powerful Doctor facing threats from the dawn of time and meeting aliens with bizarre names, complete with interludes showing the First Doctor (and the Eighth and the Ninth, for that matter).

The Doctor finds himself working with Brian the Ood, an absolutely lovely creation; an Ood assassin with a split personality who places all his worst impulses in "Mr. Ball." I can see why Brian's been picked as a recurring character in TLV. The incidental characters are pretty solid, but none of them really stand out in the same way as Brian.

The book ends on one hell of a cliffhanger, with the Doctor taking on the mantle of the Time Lord Victorious once again and sets out to remake the universe to his own design... before two familiar faces turn up. While it's not the standout work of Doctor Who some of the hype built the TLV novels up to be, this is a solid novel with some powerful moments that sets up even more exciting things to come.

Monday, 7 December 2020

 Two more Star Trek novels reviewed for Ex Astris Scientia: The recent Picard novel The Last Best Hope and the 1980s TOS novel The Three-Minute Universe.

The full list has been added to the Trek reviews page.


Thanks to Bernd Schneider. 

Friday, 14 August 2020

WHO REVIEW: Regenerations


The Time War is perhaps the perfect backdrop for Doctor Who fanfic. It provides enormous scope and possibility, the highest of stakes and a constant background threat. More than that, though, is the very nature of time as the field of war means that characters from any era of the series' history can justifiably appear, and continuity needn't be a burden if a story can't quite “fit.” If there's any time to break the rules, it's during a time war.

Regenerations from Chinbeard Books, (publisher of Seasons of War) returns to the Time War in the midst of its darkest hour, and uses it as a way to look at the Doctor's lives through different lenses. When the possibility of Dalek victory in the War becomes too likely, Rassilon sanctions a desperate gambit: change the Doctor's history to prevent the War from beginning. By preventing what Lance Parkin called “Last Contact” - the first meeting between the Doctor and the Daleks – the malevolent pepperpots will never become obsessed with alien life and time travel and the War will never come to pass.

Naturally, things do not go as simply as planned. Regenerations sees the Doctor's timeline unravel, presenting us with well-remembered stories from the series twisted into new forms. As history is altered, there isn't even a consistent timeline between these stories – they may follow on, or they may contradict each other, but each one sees a classic story bent out of shape by the manipulation of history.

Kenton Hall edits the collection and also writes the overarching story, which follows the War Doctor as he moves from a galactic crisis to dealing with his own past unravelling. A triplicate story starts the collection off, with “The Shallow Stage” setting the cosmic scene before we're wrenched back to the very beginning in “The Untrustworthy Child,” an ingenious rewriting of the very first Doctor Who story, before the consequences are explored in “The Hidden Well.” Hall takes us back to the War Doctor's travails several throughout the book, and also introduces two new characters, the young Time Lords Jelsillon and Dyliss. These two become honorary companions for the collection, their stories woven into the Doctor's timeline at the outset with dire consequences for all of them.

From there we move along the Doctor's mangled timeline, stopping first with the Second Doctor in “Time of the Cybermen” by Dan Barratt. A clever reversal of the central conceit of The Tomb of the Cybermen, Barratt's story gives us a glimpse of the Cyberwars we often heard about but so rarely saw on the series, in a gripping adventure. Things get more peculiar in “The Paradoxical Affair at Styles,”a new take on Day of the Daleks by Andrew Lawston. To begin with, while the details are different, the overall story seems much the same as the classic serial, perhaps with more of a side of humour. But as it progresses, the Time War encroaches upon it as Gallifrey attempts to intervene in the Daleks' history.

The Doctor's role in Dalek history is very much the focus of Alan Ronald's story, “Terminus of the Daleks,” which presents a reality where the Fourth Doctor decided he very much did have the right. At least, that's what the Time Lords believe, so much so that on Gallifrey they hold theatrical productions of the their own version of Genesis of the Daleks. The fictionalisation of history is just as much a theme in the collection as its outright rewriting, and “Terminus” balances both to become my favourite story in the book. I couldn't help but imagine the faux Doctor as played by John Culshaw.

“Shockwave” by duo Simon A. Brett and Lee Rawlings is another nifty tale of changing history, giving us a reality where Adric managed to die in a completely different way in Earthshock. The consequences are a version of Time-Flight that is, shockingly, really very good, as timelines converge at Heathrow with Tegan baring the brunt of the chaos. After all, had the freighter not crashed circa 65 million BC, Earth's history would be very different indeed. It's a very funny story but it has a nasty sting in the tail.

Christine Grit's story “Revelation,” is, as you might guess, a reworking of Revelation of the Daleks, somehow even nastier than the original. By this point things are becoming very odd, and the story sees the Sixth Doctor and Adric arrive on Necros. The Doctor can feel something's wrong with his timeline by now but is powerless to do anything about it. “Revelation” becomes even more Sixey when the Rani shows up, her story continuing in “Enter the Rani” by Target Trawler Nick Mellish. This story takes the infamously dreadful Time and the Rani and turns it into something that's honestly brilliant – more than that, it turns it into something that makes sense. With a wicked sense of humour, a truly vicious examination of the Rani's cruelty and better-written Mel than I've ever seen, it's another highlight for me.

The further along we go, the more the War Doctor's central story comes into focus, and we learn that the villain behind the masterplan isn't who we expected (but is utterly in keeping with the themes of the book). A diversion back to the Eighth Doctor's first and last moments keeps the experiment running. “The Edge of the War” is this broken universe's equivalent of the TV Movie, one that spends far more time looking at things from the Master's and Grace's point of view. This version of the story moves in a very different and brilliant direction, and the Doctor gets absolutely owned for laying kisses on unwary surgeons. “The Flight of the Doctor” sees the Eighth Doctor's arrival on the War's outskirts and on Karn play out differently, with Barnaby Eaton-Jones telling a different story to Moffat, albeit one with just as many brilliant lines.

Hall comes back to wrap things up in “The Weight of the Doctor,” which storms through the new series – the future, of course, from the protagonist's point of view – bringing the timeline as up-to-date as you could possibly want as the Doctor rights the wrongs of his own reality. Regenerations is based on a very clever concept, but without such a strong selection of stories the idea would be wasted. An excellent fanthology. 



The Regenerations ebook can be purchased from Chinbeard Books here, with all proceeds going to Invest in ME.

Monday, 22 June 2020

WHO REVIEW: 'Scratchman' by Tom Baker


This was one of the great unknowns of Doctor Who. An original Doctor Who movie for the 1970s, Doctor Who Meets Scratchman (occasionally Doctor Who and the Big Game, which is a less exciting title) was a script written by Tom Baker and Ian Marter to feature themselves and Elisabeth Sladen. It never happened, and the details of it were left obscure until 2007 when Marcus Hearn uncovered the original scripts and wrote an in-depth article on it. Before this, we knew that it involved the Doctor facing a figure that may have been the Devil himself, and that they wanted to get Vincent Price for the role (there was also a plan to get Twiggy on as the companion when it looked increasingly unlikely it would involve Sladen and Marter).

Then came the announcement that Tom Baker himself was to novelise the script. In fact, at first James Goss was down to write it, following his successful novelisations of City of Death, The Pirate Planet and the other great unmade movie project, The Krikkitmen. With all the Douglas Adams scripts covered, Scratchman was the only Tom Baker script left to novelise, unless they try to get a book out of Exploration Earth. It turns out that Goss's name was just a placeholder to keep the surprise of Baker's authorship under wraps, although I suspect he had at least some involvement, since some of the prose does sound like his. On the other hand, Baker is an established writer himself (treat yourself to the wonderfully disturbing children's book The Boy Who Kicked Pigs), and much of it just sounds like pure Tom.

We'll never really know just how much of it was Tom's own work, how much was from Marter's scripting, and how much was assisted with by Goss, but the final result is an absolute joy. There have been a couple of novels told first person by the Doctor, and the Fourth Doctor at that, but they never really feel like they're actually giving us a glimpse of the Doctor's personality. Tom Baker, of course, knows his Doctor inside-out, and it's a pleasure to have him tell the story. The book is full of wry observations, non sequiturs and absurd metaphors, but the silliness doesn't overtake the mounting horror of the book. To begin with, the misfortune is no greater than a trampled picnic (but even the Doctor seems ready to burst into tears at that), building to the extermination of an island population as they are horribly transformed into scarecrows. It sounds ridiculous and probably would have looked so on screen, but in prose it's nightmarish. The scarecrows, weirdly enough, are a vanguard for the Cybermen, who have allied with Scratchman foolishly. It's a sort of dry-run for a Cyber-conversion virus. On the island, though, even these deadly threats pale into comparison with the dreadful local busybody, Mavis Tulloch...

The second half of the book takes place in Scratchman's dimension, going full-on surreal and delving into some truly unnerving imagery. Whether Scratchman is the Devil or not (and that would open up a few continuity questions with the other Devils on Doctor Who) he's a being who revels in fear and power and forces nightmarish visions on his victims.In fact, visions of the past and future are a big part of this story. The Doctor faces visions of his past enemies, and even scarecrow versions of his former selves, but there's also signs of things to come. Sarah sees her own future adventures up to and including her own spin-off series, and there are sneaky cameos by the Tenth and Thirteenth Doctors. It's very much a modern reworking of the old script, using the intervening decades to add all sorts of nods and winks to the story. The entire tale is folded into a framing story where the Doctor has to justify his adventures to (yet another) Time Lord court. So, really, the entire thing is a vision, and who knows just how much is true?

Scratchman is a daft old romp while also being a solid horror story, which is about as perfect an evocation of the prime of Tom Baker's Doctor Who tenure as it's possible to be. It's a tragedy that neither Sladen nor Marter are here to see it finally come to fruition (Marter presumably would have co-written this with Baker had he not died so tragically young). It's even better listened to, with Baker giving his all with an absolutely raucous narration. Easily one of the most entertaining Doctor Who novels in years, and probably far better than a movie ever could have been.

Placement: Sarah and Harry have already encountered the Loch Ness Monster, so it's after Terror of the Zygons. They're taking a holiday when the story starts, so this is presumably a breather after The Android Invasion and before The Brain of Morbius, when Sarah is back to travelling with the Doctor alone.




Thursday, 21 May 2020

Who Novelisation Quest 4: "The Pirate Planet" by James Goss

"The Doctor rarely slept, and when he did, it was purely for the sheer fun of it, and the delight at the breakfast that would follow."

That's just one of the many delightful and captivating lines that makes this book such a joy. The phrase "Bohemian chutney" sticks in the mind as well, but then, chutney's like that.

After the success of Gareth Roberts's novelisation of Shada, the BBC looked at novelising the remaining serials that had not received the Target treatment. While Roberts would not return, James Goss stepped up, proving himself a perfect match for the silly, satirical style of Douglas Adams. It followed City of Death, my all time favourite story, the novelisation of which I approached with trepidation. Surely it couldn't live up to the original? Well, no, since so much of that serial was in the performances, but it was certainly very good.

The Pirate Planet, though, that's something else. The original is good, of course, an entertaining diversion with a clever idea at its centre, but there's the sense that Adams was trying out ideas and hadn't quite got his style down yet. The concept of a literal pirate planet, appearing throughout the galaxy to swallow up unsuspecting worlds and rob them of their resources is an ingenious one, and just one of many in the story. Add to that Adams's humour, and you've a sure fire winner.

Yet, the story's missing something on telly. Goss refines it, working, notably, from Adams's original script rather than the rewritten version that would make it to the screen (doubtless for budgetary reasons as much as anything). As such, how much of the dialogue and description is from Adams and how much from Goss is never entirely clear, and it's testament to just how perfectly the authors fit together that the join is impossible to see.

There are, of course, many deviations from the broadcast story, but this makes it seem all the more in the tradition of the Targets, the best of which shifted greatly from the televised versions. Indeed, this is quite improved over what we saw. The concepts are tightened, the humour given another draft, and everything just gels.

In this version, Romana is a wittier, cheekier version, more on the way to becoming her next incarnation, even though it is explicitly only her second day aboard the TARDIS. The Pirate Captain is a huge and terrifying cyborg, his body reeking of roasting meat, and his face hidden behind a huge, wire beard. The Mentiads, referred to as Mourners, make a great deal more sense with some further exploration. Indeed, everyone's history is explored, although it's the long-suffering Mr Fibuli who benefits the most from a third dimension. His exhausted waiting-for-god existence adds both pathos and hilarity to the scenes aboard the bridge.

Intriguingly, it's hinted that the Black Guardian himself is behind some of the events, tying the story into the Key to Time narrative better than it ever did when it was actually aired as part of it. A significant addition is the Doctor and Romana's time in the Knowhere. A very Adamsian concept, this is a torture device that assails its victims with illusory horrors, allowing the Daleks a cameo in the story. The only difference to the TV version that doesn't really work is the final cliffhanger, which, rather than having the Doctor dupe his enemies with holograms (and thus reveal a major secret of the story) sees him actually walk the plank and be rescued.

The brilliance of The Pirate Planet led the BBC to employ Goss to novelise Doctor Who and the Krikkitmen, and finally, led to the publication of Tom Baker's own lost story Scratchman, which I will finally get round to reviewing very soon. Also, Jon Culshaw's reading of the audiobook is truly exceptional, and steps it up another level again.


Data: 
First published by BBC Books in 2017
Based on The Pirate Planet, first broadcast in 1978
Audiobook read by Jon Culshaw

Monday, 18 May 2020

Ex Astris Scientia - Trek book reviews

In case the Trekkies amongst you don't know, my Star Trek book reviews are also available to read on Bernd Schneider's excellent site Ex Astris Scientia. Previously I've posted my reviews both here and on Ex Astris, but I've started doing retro reviews for Ex Astris only.

My reviews for The Higher Frontier and the Ex Astris exclusive review for TNG: Requiem have been posted here (this should lead straight to Requiem because it's only TNG classic on there, I'll post a link to the reviews index once I figure out how to link directly to a section of the page).

More to come, both new and old books up for review soon.

Saturday, 2 May 2020

TREK REVIEW: "The Higher Frontier" by Christopher L. Bennett


Christopher Bennett continues to plug the gaps in the Original Series timeline, having explored the all the way from Kirk's first command through to the aftermath of The Motion Picture in his previous works. The Higher Frontier takes place in the hinterland between TMP and The Wrath of Khan. Like his previous novel The Face of the Enemy (which returned to the First Federation), this latest work explores previously seen but mysterious alien races.

The novel brings back Miranda Jones and her Medusan symbiote Kollos, who joined together at the close of “Is There in Truth No Beauty?” The story explores the effects of this union on both Jones and Kollos, while taking a welcome look at the Medusans, one of the most fascinating alien species created for the Original Series. At the same time it brings the Aenar into the 23rd century, looking for a reason why they disappear from Federation affairs thereafter, and also taking time to delve into their culture. The two alien races are an obvious pairing, in hindsight: the Aenar are blind and telepathic, while the Medusans communicate entirely through telepathy and can drive anyone who sees them to madness. They compliment each other perfectly

There's a great deal of focus on Dr. Jones, a unique character in the franchise, as she learns about herself and also develops a relationship with Admiral Kirk. It's gratifying to see that Bennett disliked Kirk and the other male officers' treatment of Jones in the original episode, in which they were, by modern standards, appallingly laddish and chauvinistic. He has Kirk apologise to Jones, and the more mature version of the character from the films makes for a good romantic foil, even if we know from our vantage point that it can't last.

There's plenty of exploration of other familiar characters as well. The camaraderie between Sulu, Uhura and Chekov is a highlight, even as the latter begins his posting on the USS Reliant. Seeing him develop under Captain Terrell and the Reliant bridge crew has tragic overtones for the reader, knowing as we all do the fate of the ship in The Wrath of Khan. A very successful character is Thelin, the Andorian officer seen in the alternative timeline of the animated episode “Yesteryear.” Here we get to meet the prime timeline Thelin, who acts as a bridge between the Andorian and Aenar and our window into the difficult relationship between the two cultures. (Thelin's greyish skintone on the cartoon is explained away by his having an Aenar grandparent.)

The Higher Frontier is a sweeping exploration of psychic phenomena during the 23rd century, when human espers were surprisingly well-known in the Federation. This goes right back to the second pilot episode, and the known existence of human beings with psychic abilities is an oddity in the Original Series that doesn't appear in other parts of the franchise. Dr. Jones, who becomes something of a figurehead for telepaths throughout the Federation, is only the most powerful of the human espers. Bennett brings in the New Humans – a movement briefly spoken of in Roddenberry's novelisation of The Motion Picture – and repurposes them as a cultural movement of espers looking to advance their own evolution.

Into this complex universe come the Naazh, a group of brutal, armoured terrorists who lead a campaign of, essentially, ethnic cleansing against “unnatural” psychics, beginning with the Aenar. There's some breathless and surprisingly violent action sequences throughout the book, balancing out the more philosophical side of things. Bennett is a big fan of Kamen Rider, and has peppered the book with references to this series, all of which went over my head, but the idea of the Naazh as tokusatsu-style soldiers is a striking visual. (For most western readers, Power Rangers is probably the most familiar example of this genre.)

Bennett's prose is always a pleasure to read, although on occasions here the exposition does become a little unwieldy, particularly when he's refers back to previous episodes, films and books. I'm not particularly enamoured with his eventual explanation of the espers' abilities. I'm not entirely sure everything in the canon needs to be explained away, and his overarching storyline is a little unwieldy. However, he maintains a thrilling story, bursting with ideas and fascinating visuals, even though the final revelations demand to be taken with a pinch of salt.

Friday, 3 April 2020

WHO REVIEW: The Target Storybook (ed. Steve Cole)

Next in my Doctor Who review catch-up is this lovely tome, a perfect Christmas present that I read through in just a few sittings, but then neglected to write-up for three months. The Target Storybook is a gorgeous tie-in to the recently resurrected Target range of novelisations (which kicked off my stop-start Who novelisation quest), complete with a lovely Achilleos-style cover illustration by Anthony Dry and very Target-esque internal illustrations by Mike Collins. As a heartwarming touch, the collection is dedicated to the late author Tommy Donbavand, who died in 2019.

There are fifteen stories in the Storybook, kicking off with a Thirteenth Doctor tale before moving through incarnation, and bookended with another story that ties into the Thirteenth Doctor's adventures. The conceit of this collection is that many of the stories tie into, sequelise or take place during established stories - classic missing adventures. As you'd expect, they're a mixed bunch, and there's a good combination of classic Who authors, new series TV contributors and unexpected newcomers.

"Gatecrashers" by Joy Wilkinson gets the collection off to an entertaining start. Wilkinson was a coup for series when she wrote "The Witchfinders" for series eleven, so bringing her back for this collection is a canny move. It's a fun adventure for Thirteen and her fam, but with a decent sci-fi moral, as they arrive in a society where everyone lives separate, enclosed lives, with occasional interactions by teleporter. It's easy to imagine this making a solid TV episode.

Placement: Late on in series eleven - after "The Witchfinders" works fine.

"Journey Out of Terror" by Simon Guerrier comes with a perfectly Hartnell-eqsue title and riffs on one of the Doctor's stranger moments in The Chase. For "Journey Out of Terror" takes place in the episode "Journey Into Terror," where the Doctor and company land in a haunted house and the Doctor, bafflingly, declares they've entered the dark realms of the human subconscious. Guerrier's story enters a fantasy realm that's quite different to the First Doctor's usual remit.

Placement: During the final scenes of "Journey Into Terror, " The Chase episode four.

"Save Yourself" by Terrance Dicks is the final story by the late, great Uncle Terrance, and it wouldn't be Target without him. He was never shy of exploring his own continuity, and this is no different, taking place during the infamous "Season 6b" era, as a direct follow-up to The War Games. Season 6b is pretty well-worn now, but this story puts a new spin on the idea. It's a great little adventure and nice send-off for Mr. Dicks.

Placement: Sometime after The War Games.

"The Clean Air Act" by Matthew Sweet is a solid Third Doctor story, which sees the Doctor and UNIT up against an environmentalist group. It's good to see the Third Doctor split between the establishment figure he appears to be, the military force he associates with and the hippy types he sympathises with. It's a bit preachy, but that's true to the Third Doctor.

Placement: The Doctor's still on Earth but it seems later on, so probably between The Time Monster and The Three Doctors.

"Punting" by Susie Day takes the idea of putting an adventure inside an adventure to the next step, and puts an adventure into an adventure that took place inside an adventure. Ever wondered what the Doctor and Romana got up to in the Time Vortex during The Five Doctors? No, me neither, but this is good fun and with some genuinely funny moments.

Placement: During Shada and/or The Five Doctors.

"The Dark River" by Matthew Waterhouse If you wondered why Adric made it to the cover illustration along with fourteen incarnations of the Doctor, this is why. I didn't think I'd love a Matthew Waterhouse story, but my Haywards Heath comrade provided one of the best stories in the book. It's a bit of a serious thing, to take on racism in the old American South, but this adventure, which gives Adric and Nyssa their own companion, James, makes a pretty tasteful go of it. The best part though is a brand new renegade Time Lord, going here by the name of Doc Ashberry, a larger-than-life old friend of the Doctor who's an absolute hoot.

Placement: During The Visitation episode four for Adric and Nyssa.

"Interstitial Insecurity" by Colin Baker Waterhouse isn't the only actor to write for his character in this collection. Colin Baker has written for his Doctor a few times over the years, and while he, naturally, has a good grasp of his character, his prose doesn't make the smoothest reading. Still, this is a pretty good story, seeing the Doctor entering the Matrix to prepare his defense in his trial, with a short-term companion named Anosia, who's quite charming. It's a bit of a hack job to try to make the Sixth Doctor look better than the trial made him appear, but it works.

Placement: Between episodes eight and nine of The Trial of a Time Lord.

"The Slyther of Shoreditch" by Mike Tucker Always a reliable writer for the Seventh Doctor and Ace (although what happened to Robert Perry?), Tucker provides a great story that brings together elements of Dalek stories from throughout the franchise. We get elements from The Daleks, Genesis of the Daleks and Remembrance of the Daleks, while it all pushes towards the inevitability of the Time War. Plus, the heinous theft of long johns.

Placement: During Remembrance of the Daleks.

"We Can't Stop What's Coming" by Steve Cole is a rare fish: a post-2005 Eighth Doctor story that follows the Eighth Doctor novel series. Not too surprising coming from Cole, who ran the BBC Books Doctor Who range for several years. This story is a hybrid between the old EDA era and the Time War flashback era, seeing the Doctor, Fitz and Trix dealing with an abuse of causality under the heavy threat of the upcoming Time War.

Placement: Some time after The Gallifrey Chronicles.

"Decoy" by George Mann Really the only person to write the War Doctor had to be George Mann, who provided the excellent Engines of War. It's a brief but punchy story, drawing on the Nestene involvement in the War but focusing on the Doctor's tenuous alliance with Rassilon. It's a great dissection of just how the Doctor would fight a destructive war, while still remaining the Doctor. Having the previous two stories weighed down by the Time War's approach only adds to it.

Placement: Right in the middle of the Time War, probably before the War Doctor titles from Big Finish.

"Grounded" by Una McCormack We don't quite get a Five or Nine story in this, but Nine's absence is felt more, since this isn't even a companion story. No, this is a Clive story, running on the recent fan consensus that the conspiracy theorist/Doctor Who fan stand-in survived "Rose" and had further adventures. This is a rather lovely story, seeing Clive and son finding an alien in their neighbourhood. Very sweet.

Placement: For Clive, some months after "Rose."

"The Turning of the Tide" by Jenny T. Colgan Doctor Who-wise, I associate Jenny Colgan more with the Eleventh Doctor after her excellent novel Dark Horizons, but she totally nails the Tenth Doctor and Rose as well. Unexpectedly, though, she decides to give us a story of the Metacrisis Doctor and Rose, showing us a glimpse of what a personal, Earthbound affair with the Doctor might be like. It goes in a different, more intimate direction than Big Finish's version of their lives on Pete's World. This is a cracking story of impossible storms and aliens after Earth's oceans, and the impeccable Doctor-Rose team makes it one of the strongest in the book. Plus the little one-off bug companion is the sweetest.

Placement: Over a year since "Journey's End."

"Citation Needed" by Jacqueline Rayner although ostensibly an Eleventh Doctor story, covers far more than that, spanning several billion years and taking things right up to the end of series eleven. It's stylistically the most interesting and unique of the stories in the collection, told by the Encyclopaedia Gallifreya, a sentient TARDIS database, essentially the Matrix but held within the medium of bottles of liquid. Fascinating and funny in equal measures.

Placement: All over the place. The Encyclopaedia was briefly seen in "Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS."

"Pain Management" by Beverly Sanford is a rollicking story that tells what happens when Missy tries to be good. Set right at the end of the Twelfth Doctor's life, it sees the Doctor and his university crew take in a rock concert and sees events spiral out of control from there, showing that the Missy is still the Master and can just as easily end the world when she's trying to be nice.

Placement: Between "The Eaters of Light" and "World Enough and Time."

"Letters From the Front" by Vinay Patel The author of "Demons of the Punjab" provides a prequel story, told in epistemological style by Prem and an alien Thijarian. It's a finely written look at war and sacrifice, and explores why the Thijarians gave up their bloodthirsty ways. Not really a Doctor Who story, but that just makes the collection richer.

Placement: Some years before "Demons of the Punjab."