Probably the quintessential Space Opera of its time, the Lensman series has dated - although not so badly as the work of some of his contemporaries - due mainly, in my opinion, to Smith’s rather one-dimensional characterisation, his dialogue and his depiction of female roles. Paradoxically, given the rather limited characterisation of the humans his aliens are sometimes truly alien. Indeed, the mindsets of some of the non-human protagonists are often far more skilfully depicted than their human counterparts. Despite that, provided one bears in mind the social climate in which this was written and reads the novel in context, they can still be hugely enjoyable. The term ‘Space Opera’ is actually used within the text at one point when Kim Kinnison – the hero of the series – goes undercover posing as a writer of the genre. Whether the alter ego was based on anyone in particular is not known. This is the finale to Smith’s six volume saga. Smith was an early forerunner of today’s ‘Big Concept’ writers such as Greg Bear and Stephen Baxter, and though some of his scientific fabulations seem somewhat preposterous by today’s standards it was Smith and writers like him who created that ‘sense of wonder’ for many readers, not only when this was published as a magazine serial in the Nineteen Forties, but when republished in book form in the fifties and (for reasons unknown) enjoying an unexpected renaissance in the mid-seventies. The series has recently been republished by an independent publisher and hopefully will find a new generation of readers. Smith’s strength lies in his ability to convey the vastness of Time and Space, his premise being that billions of years ago a race of humanoids – The Arisians - was born in our galaxy and evolved far beyond the point at which humanity now stands. They learned that by observation and the calculations of their powerful minds they could predict the future to a certain degree. They knew that a galaxy was about to pass completely through their own galaxy, and that the gravitational pull of suns against each other would produce billions of new planets, upon which Life would evolve. They also knew that another ancient race, the cruel and tyrannical Eddorians, had plans to dominate both galaxies and sate their immortal lust for power. The Arisians only advantage was that the Eddorians were not aware of their existence, and so was set in motion a plan which was to span millions of years, taking us through the fall of Atlantis, the Roman Empire and thus through the Twentieth Century and beyond. In essence, this is an epic war of ideologies, in that the Arisians represent democracy and free will, while the Eddorians represent a system of Hierarchical totalitarianism, enforced by a militaristic regime (In this respect it is interesting to compare the physical description of Smith’s Eddorians with Heinlein’s Puppet Masters, who themselves are a metaphor for the forces of Communism. Both are sexless, emotionless amorphous creatures, who reproduce by binary fission, with each new half retaining the memories and skills of the original). The Arisians’ secret weapon is a selective breeding programme which has been in operation on four different planets since intelligent life evolved. Only one of the four races can go on to produce the super-beings capable of defeating the Eddorians. Humans, of course, win the ‘race’ race and the couple selectively bred to give birth to the Homo Superior children are inevitably white and North American. This idea of selectively breeding humans rather puts a dent into the concept of Arisians as benign Guardians of Democracy, and although one can argue that it was the Arisians’ only option, it is never really addressed as a moral issue within the text. The Children themselves are four girls and boy who, in their late teens, have to conceal that fact that they are the most powerful – if underdeveloped as yet – beings in the Universe. We are led to believe that the girls will ultimately become the wives of their brother, and the mothers of the race that will replace the Arisians as Guardians of Civilisation. An oddly incestuous episode also ensues between Kit (the boy) and his mother in a strange scene where she – in need of brain-restructuring and training, for want of a better phrase - allows the mind of her son to enter hers, rather than submit to mental penetration by the Arisians (of whom she has an incurable phobia). The description of this act is oddly violent and not a little sexual, made worse by the rather stilted professions of love between Mother and son before the procedure. But Hell, this is Pulp Fiction. It never pretends to be Shakespeare, and despite its political incorrectness I still find it a nostalgic and stonking good read.
And so, the most epic of space operas--and really, the first such epic space opera--comes to its close. Wow.All things considered, Children of the Lens is not QUITE as good as the penultimate book in the series. E.E. Smith's characters do not have the most depth in the world, and so as the series went on, the books generally got better as more characters were introduced: ensemble casts allow us to enjoy each character's quirks without going deep enough to see the scaffolding, so to speak. Unfortunately, this last one, at times, spreads things too thin, with so many characters that one can lose track. I never did get the names straight on all four of Kimball Kinnison's daughters.Also, parts of the book seem to have a slight incest-y vibe, although Smith very deliberately tries to derail this, so he clearly saw the problem. Fact is, he's a little stuck because the very idea of this book is that the children of Kim and Clarissa, the heroes of earlier books, are essentially the next step in evolution, and so far ahead of humanity as is nearly impossible to imagine. Because of this, they simply can't relate much to anyone who isn't at least close to their level, and in making this clear, Smith at times ends up being a little inadvertently creepy.That aside, however, the story of these children, and the way it weaves into the larger tapestry, is immense fun. All the moreso when (like the earlier books) one realizes that this really was the FIRST TIME almost all of these things were happening in a story. Much of it has become cliche since.What's interesting is that those children surpass even the god-like aliens who have controlled everything from the start, and realize that they have to hide the true workings of things from everyone else--including their parents. This is a fun role reversal instead of the usual "mentors speak in annoying vague terms" thing that we see in so very much fiction. Their characters are, as a whole at least, drawn well as bickering young adults who have the potential to someday be, essentially, gods themselves.This book also fixes a lot of the gender inequalities in previous books, which is nice. There's still some weirdness, but it's from the 30's after all. However, much of the scenes dealing with Clarissa, now moved from romantic lead to mother, directly address and challenge gender roles in a way that's pretty damn original for an old pulp story.Children of the Lens also has a good sense of humor, as Smith takes more than a few shots at science fiction writers themselves.I really could go on and on, but I'll try not to. While the book is, at times, convoluted, the ending is pitch perfect, and one really does feel as though one has been put through the most epic story of all time. (Of course, you have to read all the books.) There's still lots of silly dialogue and bizarre craziness, but the imagination of it, and the inspiration this had on everything to come later, is staggering. Not to mention the levels of power that the final battles reach, and the ending that toys with the idea of an even greater future. There is no better word than epic. Silly, dated, and predictable at times--but sublimely epic. The book itself may get four stars, technically, but the entire series as a whole (even the second book, its weakest) get a resounding five.
What do You think about Children Of The Lens (1998)?
The climactic finale of the Lensman series, this one continues on where the others left off. Civilization is in a tremendous battle for supremacy of two galaxies. The Lensmen are the force of Civilization, and the Kinnison Family is the ultimate in evolution of the Lensmen. They are tasked with bringing the war to a successful close by eradicating all vestiges of the evil masterminds seeking to overthrow society. Only by developing their full potential and working together will they be able to conquer, but can they do it in time?If you liked the others in the series, this one is a great climax. The book (as do the others in the series) presume a hyperspeed pace of action but include enough new ideas to keep one occupied. If you are a strict stickler for quantum physics, you will get bent out of shape about some of the proposed technologies, but it makes for a fun story.
—Blair
My dad lent me Starship Troopers after I watched the movie with him. If I remember correctly I believe he stated "Those aren't Gorilla Suits!", followed by him dashing into the attic. Later that night, not being able to sleep due to his rummaging above my ceiling, I went up and asked him what he was doing. "Finding you the book!" was his response, and later that night I started reading my first science-fiction book. Needless to say I developed an appetite for them, and this was his next recommendation.
—S.Speakman
More adventures in ancient science fiction—certainly Smith’s series does not stand up to today’s standards, but it certainly shows where sci fi had its beginnings. Reading it is rather like an archaeological dig, exposing the roots of the genre. I’m glad to see in this book that the female characters get to step up and show what they’re made of. Clarrisa dons her gray Lensman leathers (which still fit after having five children, including two sets of twins). Her four daughters keep all the male Lensmen (and even the Arisians) on their toes. Mind you, it’s implied that there just aren’t any men out there who will ever measure up to these women and that they better get used to a celibate life. Clarissa, after all, has been the only female Lensman and she and Kim Kinnison (Stage Two Lensman) have produced the only stage-three Lensman children. The four daughters have only their brother Kit and, to some extent, their father Kim as their male equals. Obviously the Arisians’ breeding program has come to a screeching halt unless they were planning to mate brother to sister like dog breeders. So it’s just as well that the Arisians have ridden out of town, leaving everything to the new sheriff, …er, I mean to the Galactic Patrol, by book’s end.It is fiction of its era—matters are very black and white, characters are all good or all bad, whole scale destruction is good if it is done by the right people. Written in the years following World War II, this is hardly a surprising outlook. It’s been 100 years since the beginning of WWI, and we’re just starting to see a more nuanced history of that event starting to spread into popular culture, replacing the good guys and bad guys with military guys on both sides. Science fiction has come a long way, too, in the ensuing 50+ years and we enjoy the products of that progress.This is my 148th book read from the NPR list of great science fiction and fantasy.
—Wanda
