Overall Quality 3.5 / 5.0 (recommended)
Gay Content 1.0 / 5.0
Gay Positivity 2.0 / 5.0

I enjoyed this novel, but it is not Simmons’ best work. That said, he is one of my favorite authors. If you are new to his books, start with “Hyperion” (if you like Sci-Fi) or “Summer of Night” (if you’re a horror fan).

“Ilium” stands as one of the most unusual Sci-Fi reads I’ve enjoyed in a long time. The narrative follows three overlapping threads. First, on Mars we find the Greek gods enacting or re-enacting the Trojan War (explicitly, “The Iliad” as written by Homer). These gods seem suspiciously high-tech. Unfortunately for them, thanks to our intrepid scholar-protagonist Thomas Hockenberry, events don’t go quite as planned. Second, the reader follows a group of sentient robots from Jupiter, who travel to Mars because of dangerous quantum distortions emanating from the planet. Finally, human civilization on Earth has seemingly returned to the semi-dark ages, and a group of old-style humans are trying to re-discover the universe.

The three storylines dovetail nicely with each other, and I liked the skillful juxtaposition of history, literature, philosophy, and Sci-Fi. Welcome to science fiction for college professors!

Simmons has mastered the art of raising intriguing questions while offering just enough tantalizing answers to keep the reader hooked. Who are the post-humans? Are the Greek gods post-humans, or something else? What happened to the old-style humans? What are the mysterious voynix? How is Odysseus apparently existing in two places at once? How and why can the old-style humans on Earth “watch” the re-enactment of the Trojan War? Simmons tends to end each chapter with the reader hanging on some important question or dramatic plot point; it can be hard to put this novel down.

On the other hand, I found myself skimming quite a bit. A lot of the conversations (which I assume he intended to be thought-provoking or literary) are prosaic and off-putting. I also felt strung along at times: there’s a fine line between withholding information to create tension and doing so to drag the story out. Simmons also occasionally gets lost in the minutia, for example, when the Jovian robots navigate the Martian seas.

Note that the novel ends with a cliffhanger. The story concludes in “Olympos.”

On the whole, “Ilium” presents an unusual and well-written read. I would recommend it for science fiction devotees, or fans of Homer’s “The Iliad” who are open to Sci-Fi. If you like this novel, definitely try Simmons’ stellar “Hyperion” series as well.

Regarding gay content, to my surprise the author makes several explicit references to homosexuality. Nevertheless, most of the mentions are brief: no characters are clearly gay, and there doesn’t appear to be any gay subtext in the novel, so I rated the Content Scale very low. Similarly, while Simmons never crosses the line into blatant homophobia, his comments hardly qualify as positive.

His novel involves several historical persons who are known or rumored to be gay, such as Shakespeare, Proust, and Achilles/Patroclus. In most cases, Simmons dismisses the theory. In fact, in one sequence one of the robot characters speaks with Shakespeare (don’t ask; it’s science fiction) and explicitly asks the Bard, who reacts violently. In the case of Achilles/Patroclus, the author allows some homoeroticism to exist between them but clearly (through sex acts) establishes them as heterosexual.

The overarching vibe of these mentions is that straight somehow trumps gay. His dismissive and lowbrow use of gay references disappoints me.

Overall 4.0 / 5.0 (recommended for fans of the series)
Gay Content 2.0 / 5.0 (three minor gay characters)
Gay Positivity 4.0 / 5.0

Welcome to The Canterbury Tales meets Star Trek: Voyager. The central story posits that aliens capture the Voyager command crew (with the exception of Captain Janeway and the Doctor – must be lonely on the Voyager bridge) while on an away mission. The aliens take the crew to a prison camp.

Through the process of planning their escape, Chakotay, Tuvok, Tom Paris, B’Elanna, Neelix, and even Kes tell their personal stories leading up to their involvement with the initial Voyager mission, before the ship got lost in the Delta Quadrant.

Quick note – the story is set after Kes’s departure from the ship, and shortly after Seven of Nine’s arrival.

The individual stories make for fascinating and illuminating reads. Taylor enjoys a clever and engaging writing style. It would be easy to lose momentum in a novel like this, but the author manages a brisk pace through a series of unique stories that range from moving to revealing to amusing. The individual stories certainly outshine the more prosaic and implausible imprisonment/escape plot.

A word of warning – these stories will probably hold little interest for anyone who doesn’t know the characters from the TV series.

The book includes three minor gay characters. George Mathers is Harry Kim’s roommate from Starfleet Academy. He has an unrequited crush on Harry, who responds to the situation with grace and compassion: “An immense wave of friendship, of caring and concern and, yes, of love, swept over Harry” (115). It’s mildly disappointing to see a gay character fall in love with an unavailable straight guy (I’d much rather see a successful gay romance), but I’m thrilled with both the inclusion and Harry’s response.

Meanwhile, Noah Mannick and Brad Harrison are part of the Voyager crew stranded in the alien prison camp. They have “only recently become a couple” (176). One frustrating aspect of their relationship: at one point Noah suffers from severe cramps, probably the result of contaminated drinking water. Then we never hear about him again.

So was Noah okay? Did he and Brad make it back to the ship? The novel doesn’t tell us either way. Unfortunately, Noah and Brad are very minor characters, present more to flesh out the situation and, perhaps, demonstrate some gay inclusiveness. To that end, once again, I am delighted to find them present in the novel. I just wish we had seen more of them.

On the whole, could she have done better by the gay characters? Sure: they could have enjoyed beefed up roles, with more compelling subplots of their own, or at least a bigger role to play in the overarching story, and positive endings. Nevertheless, I’m happy to find them at all. Star Trek: Voyager has been one of the least gay-inclusive iterations of the Star Trek franchise, so I’m glad that gay people are represented somewhere in the Voyager universe.

As an interesting side-note, fictional Star Trek novels are not usually considered canon, or official. But Jeri Taylor wrote Pathways (along with Mosaic, which details Captain Janeway’s personal back-story) to provide reference material for the show’s main characters. She specifically intended the books to be canon. We never see Noah or Brad on the show, but presumably they’re in there somewhere. IMDB.com does indicate a Crewman Noah Lessing (played by Rick Worthy).

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For more posts on all things gay in the Star Trek universe, check out my Gay Star Trek Main Page.

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Overall Quality 3.0 / 5.0 (a good story with a couple of serious weaknesses)
Gay Content 2.0 / 5.0 (important gay character)
Gay Positivity 4.5 / 5.0 (would have been ideal but for one major cliché)

Closely tied to the film Star Trek: First Contact, the story opens with a brief prologue following the events of the film. The book’s main story, however, takes place as a flashback set shortly after the Enterprise-E is commissioned. (The Enterprise-D was destroyed in the movie Star Trek: Generations ).

Chiaros, a lone planet located in a desolate and empty section of space called the Geminus Gulf, has applied for Federation membership. However, the Romulans are also vying for possession of the planet and the Gulf. Social instability in the Chiaran civilization gives the Romulans ample opportunity to manipulate local politics and create a dangerous situation for the Federation. And no one can understand why: as far as anyone can tell, the Geminus Gulf is an absolutely worthless territory.

In the meantime, the Federation’s secret spy organization, Section 31, is conspiring with the Romulan Tal Shiar to effectively cede the planet to the Romulans in exchange for some tactical information. As part of their effort, Section 31 contacts Lt. Sean Hawk (played by Neal McDonough in First Contact) to recruit the young and promising (and gay!) officer (1).

Section 31 was created in the Federation charter, and has the ability (largely due to a complete lack of oversight) to take extraordinary, and otherwise illegal and immoral, actions in order to protect Federation interests. Deep Space Nine introduced the organization in “Inquisition” (Season Six, Episode No. 142).

I’ve never particularly cared for Section 31 as a source of drama. In Rogue, I have a couple of issues with it that detract from the reading experience.

First, the raison d’être for the organization rings hollow to me. Michelle Erica Green, writing for TrekNation, states the dilemma well:

“Unfortunately, it’s difficult to make any character sound intelligent while parroting Sloan’s explanations of the reasons for the group’s existence — basically, the argument runs that the Federation can’t maintain its existence under its own peaceful charter, so it needs a top-secret division to break all its rules in the name of saving it, even if that division’s actions (ranging from assassinations to stopping proto-warp civilizations from traveling into space) violate everything the Federation represents” (2).

Second, the two men who work for Section 31 in the novel just seem dumb to me. I mean seriously, how naive can you be to think that the Romulans are going to hand over tactically important information in exchange for possession of what seems to be a worthless world? Have these people never heard of the “too good to be true” principle? Do you think they might be suspicious and try to do a little due diligence before breaking Federation law?

This particular criticism leads me to my mixed feelings on the plot itself. Fundamentally, it’s a pretty good story: multi-layered, suspenseful, exciting, and thought-provoking. It probably would have made a superior movie to either Insurrection or Nemesis.

Mangels and Martin do an amazing job with the established Enterprise crew as well. Each of the characters sound distinct and exactly like they do on the shows, and Mangels and Martin manage to throw in a number of references to the movies (especially First Contact, of course) and the television shows that were a lot of fun to identify.

But Section 31′s foolishness undercut the story’s tension and distracted me from fully engaging with the plot. Also, the story takes too damn long to get going. By 100 or so pages in, I was hooked. But it took 100 pages! I probably would have stopped reading if I hadn’t been so interested in the gay content that is so rare for Star Trek.

And Mangels, who is openly gay, and Martin handle the gay content extremely well. A major negative cliché does rear its head. If you’ve seen First Contact, you know what I’m talking about, an unfortunate stereotype that the authors inherit from the movie. I suspect they would have happily opted for a different outcome for the gay character if they could have.

Instead, this book almost serves as a love letter to a character who may be the sole good gay person in semi-official Star Trek canon. They are pitch perfect in their portrayal of Lt. Hawk. They don’t even really comment on his gayness; it’s just part of the fabric of the story and of the social milieu of the Federation. It’s a total non-issue, and they mention Hawk’s partner Keru Ranul as a natural part of Hawk’s life. The authors present Hawk himself as a prodigy, unusually bright and skilled, and clearly possessing a thoughtful and moral nature. He makes an excellent hero.

I mention that Lt. Hawk may be the only good gay character in semi-official Star Trek canon, but I must emphasize the “may be.” It’s not exactly clear cut. For one thing, Star Trek novels do not count as “canon.” Paramount Pictures expects them to adhere as closely as possible to established Star Trek material, and Paramount must approve any Star Trek book project. The vetting process suggests that the books have at least semi-official status, particularly if nothing in the Star Trek canon (the movies and television series) directly contradicts them.

However, Andy Mangels

“admits there were some problems with the Paramount licensing and [he] worried the character’s sexuality might be edited. He goes on to say, ‘Paramount licensing was very quiet about the book’s contents, and made sure that Rick Berman and Brannon Braga (the Trek TV producers) did not see it before it went to press. There was some concern that the gay elements would be forcefully removed if Berman and Braga saw it. Once it was at the printer, it was given to their office. I never heard if there was fallout or not, but the book got publicity all around the world’” (3).

It’s worth noting that Rick Berman, who produced First Contact, released a statement in conjunction with the film specifying that Lt. Hawk is heterosexual (4).

Hawk’s sexuality is not even slightly ambiguous in Section 31: Rogue. He’s gay, happily partnered, and positively portrayed. Yay! Albeit with one pretty serious negative item. I scored a little higher on the Gay Positivity scale than I normally would given that negative issue, but I was so happy with the rest of the portrayal I decided to be a little more relaxed with the score.

Overall, it would probably take a pretty serious Star Trek fan to really get into this story. If that’s you, or if you’re interested in meeting a gay character in the Star Trek universe, I definitely recommend Section 31: Rogue.

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For more posts on all things gay in the Star Trek universe, check out my Gay Star Trek Main Page.

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(1) Does the story sound vaguely familiar? In fact, it’s loosely similar to “The Mind’s Eye,” Episode No. 91 of Star Trek: The Next Generation. In that episode, the Romulans supply forged Federation weaponry to the citizens of Krios in order to destabilize the Federation’s relationship with the Klingon Empire.

(2) Michelle Erica Green, “Section 31: Rogue and Shadow,” TrekNation.com, 19 May 2001, http://www.treknation.com/reviews/books/section_31_rogue_shadow.shtml (retrieved 5 May 2008)

(3) Michael Ricci, “Forbidden Gay Frontier: Where Star Trek Hasn’t Boldly Gone,” AfterElton.com, 20 April 2006, http://www.afterelton.com/archive/elton/TV/2006/4/startrek3.html (retrieved 30 May 2008).

(4) “Gay Trek Rumor Light Years Ahead of Reality,” GLAAD Alert (Archive), 23 August 1996, http://www.glaad.org/publications/archive_year.php?year=1996 (retrieved 5 May 2008).

I love McCaffrey’s Pern series. Unlike a lot of modern genre authors, McCaffrey follows the “Keep It Simple, Silly” guideline to fiction writing: a straightforward story (peppered with a few surprises here and there) written with crisp prose and tight editing, populated by a manageable number of engaging and marvelously unique characters. I clearly remember reading “Dragonflight” (another book in the Pern series) one day after school as an adolescent; the book had me utterly enraptured. It’s a rare sequence of books that yields memories OF READING that last for decades.

Chronologically, “Dragonsdawn” is the first book in the Pern series. It follows the human colonists arriving on Pern, establishing a settlement, discovering the deadly threat of Thread, and engineering dragons to combat the Thread. The author interweaves the personal dramas of the myriad characters throughout the story, giving it human interest and depth.

“Dragonsdawn” is easily one my favorites from the Pern series. It’s delightful to watch McCaffrey start with science fiction and end with a fantasy novel. The characters are among the sharpest and most well-rounded she’s created. The engaging story unfolds naturally and quickly; there’s no fluff in this fast-paced novel. What a welcome relief from the modern scourge of genre fiction: overwriting.

For an easy, enjoyable sci fi read, I highly recommend “Dragonsdawn.” You can read it before any of the other Pern books (since it predates them chronologically), after you’ve read the others (as a prequel showing how it all started), or on its own (it’s a completely self-contained story).

Gay Content is low, with a couple of brief references to homosexuality. Specifically, one important female character (Sallah Telgar) has romantic designs on a man who seems at best friendly with her; Sallah wonders if the object of her affection prefers men. McCaffrey also mentions that even those people who are in same-sex relationships have an obligation to reproduce, given that these people are trying to colonize a planet.

On the whole, the references suggest Pernese society accepts gay people (as long as they have kids), but I marked down a little on the Gay Positivity due to “defamation by invisibility.” All the references are abstract. As far as I can tell, none of the named characters (major or even minor) are gay. I appreciate McCaffrey throwing the gay community a bone, but it would have been nice to see an actual gay person, even if minor, in the story.