This is sad as it's one of my favourite sf tales since I first came across the best of the original short stories With the Bentfin Boomer Boys on Little Old New Alabama in Harlan Ellison's Again, Dangerous Visions anthology. The opening sentence is a classic and instantly grabbed me:
Well he didn't like it the hot dust blowing, crusting and it made him have to blink a lot standing still a gentleman doesn't move under the circs but you can blink yes by the end of the whole thing it's like sleeping too long the dust tears get caked up and make a gritty crusty blob at the corner of your eye where the nictating eyelid would push it clear if you were a frog (too late - you're not).
This is one of the few stories I've ever come across where by the end of the first sentence you know that you will either love the story or you stop reading there and then. Most of the rest of the story was written in this phonetic style. Although the novel-length mock-up has more sections with grammatical writing, but that helps to reduce the intensity and increase the enjoyment.
Usually I'm not a fan of this type of literary indulgence. In science-fiction there have been many attempts to try experimental writing styles. Brian Aldiss's Barefoot in the Head tried to go all James Joyce, but it just gave me a headache. Russell Hoban's Riddley Walker bored me senseless and more recently Iain M. Banks's Feersum Endjinn put me off his books so badly I haven’t read once since.
The problem to my mind is that in these cases the authors put so much effort into creating a clever writing style they didn't have much creative energy left for producing an equally clever story. The result is the reader invests a huge amount of time translating the story only to find out that nothing very interesting is going on anyhow. In the end all the reader is supposed to do is admire the style.
Space Wars Blues is the only novel I've read where this doesn't happen. The writing style is bizarre, but the effort taken to translate the text is worthwhile because there is actually an involving tale going on. And that makes the writing style doubly interesting because ultimately it feels that that was the best way to tell the story.
That's not to say it's a story that'll appeal to everyone as it is a fairly silly space opera romp, but it's fun nonetheless. In Lupoff's vision of the far future, planets have been colonised by old earth countries such as New France, New England and old prejudices have been perpetuated. So the inhabitants of New Alabama declare war on New Haiti. A battle rages between the sophisticated Haitians and the racist Alabamians. The New Haitians seem doomed, but then they hatch a cunning plan. If the Alabamians have returned to the old ways, so can they. So they explore the old religion called voodoo...
Frankly, any story involving space zombies works for me, but add passages like the end of a brutal space fight below, and it becomes a great book that doesn't deserve to be forgotten.
:Gord's lase-axehead comes down on the back armor with a pacifying thukky noise, armor m bone conducted right up Gord's arm to two much-graitifed ears m Gord wrenchesiz l-a free m kicks papadoc's body spinning infinitely away m Gord looks around for new worlds to conquer m comes face to face with another spacerine m:
:he brings an axe around m:
:he brings an axe around m:
:he opens his mouth in a silent shriek m:
:he opens his mouth in a silent shriek m:
:the axe, blooded m starlit, swings gracefully m:
:the axe, blooded m starlit, swings gracefully m:
:smashing, m blood gushing, m a sound:
:smashing, m blood gushing, m a sound:
:a scream too loud too shrill m:
:a scream too loud too shrill m:
:red:
:red:
:black:
:black:
: :
: :
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