Unfortunately the authors seem a
little too fascinated with their own great idea – there is a thread of a plot
(a quest, of course), and attempts at creating suspense, but these are
sidetracked by the temptation to show off the world and all the work that went
into it. It’s as if they couldn’t bear to cut out any of the interesting
creatures (look, a flying octopus! - no, really, there’s a flying octopus) or
ideas (a cult of comedic atheists!).
The exploration of the idea is
the strong point of The Long Earth. It doesn’t stoop to stereotype in
looking at how the world changes, but has plausible and interesting
considerations of the impacts on social, economic and political structures, as
well as the practical ways that people would react and adapt. These are all at
higher levels though – countries, cities, police forces. Up close to any of the
characters, they seem concocted from the basic fantasy recipe book: for the
perfect loner hero, take one orphan, add quirky upbringing and secret talent,
stir and allow to develop for ten years. I tried to drop my expectations of a
Pratchett book before coming to this one, but was surprised that the usual
depth and dexterity of his characterisation was missing from so much of it.
The thin deus-ex-machina quest
attempts to anchor the story as we wash back and forth
through recent history and across the multitudes of Earths, various side
stories spinning off as we pass. Often I was more interested in those side
stories, but some never develop, and others work away behind the scenes, their resolutions mentioned chapters later, in passing. Some seem to
exist merely to fill narrative gaps: we’ll need bronze here, so we need a forge
there, so let’s introduce this guy back here. Tick.
My main frustration with The
Long Earth is that
it is an ok story about this well-constructed and original world, when
it could have been a great story set in this world. A rip-roaring quest,
an intense exploration of family and social dynamics in times of change, a
series of inter- and over-lapping short stories (ala I, Robot) shifting between that and more... the
breadth of worlds provides an awful lot of scope. Instead it’s a thoughtful,
reasonably interesting, semi-scientific exploration of what made our Earth what
it is, (with an unfortunate and unoriginal diversion into the
origin-of-elf-stories trope) let down by some unnecessary weak points*, not
quite knowing what story it wants to be, and an incredibly weak ending. It’s
barely an ending at all, in fact - it turns out that this is only half of the
story and I have been suckered into breaking my GRRM rule.** After a flaccid
attempt at resolving the quest enough to finish the book, but leave things open
for a sequel, the story just stops. Seriously. I’m trying not to include any
spoilers here (the book is only a few weeks old, after all) but there is no
ending, no climax, no great revelation or cliff-hanger. It.
Just.
Stops.
*you’re in a fight with something
that can step between worlds and is attacking you from those different worlds,
but though you can change worlds yourself you don’t, even to run away
– if I’m picking up issues with fight scenes, they must be pretty bad.
** Which is: Never start a series
until the author has finished it and any sequels associated with it. I thought
about calling it the Robert Jordan rule, but 1. he died, and it wouldn’t be
very respectful, and 2. RJ had the end in mind, whereas GRRM has wilfully started
multiple series without knowing the end, which I think is potentially fraud.
