After reaching the halfway mark, I threw this book down (you can read later why) only to pick it up again because 1) I think it unfair when someone rates/reviews a book they haven't finished, as I have never felt that was a fair way to judge a book, potentially destroying an author's chance to reach an audience, perhaps even ruining their career, and 2) This was a HUGO AWARD WINNING BOOK and I strongly believed there must have been a good reason why!But, I didn't follow my own rules of doing things and thus originally rated it a 2, and reviewed it in full. I wanted so badly to like it, believing it had several things going for it.Here are the 5 reasons why I felt it would be an awesome read:1. It's set in the future in which the Earth's elliptical rotation around the sun has come to a complete standstill, with the moon's orbit around the Earth MIA as well. One half of the Earth is forever caught in the full blast of 24/7 sunlight, while the other side is evidently in complete darkness. The results? After man and all life on Earth faced a post-apocalyptic radiation scenario, the sun-side of our planet re-invented itself into a lush, tropical cryptobotanical (I think I made that word up) forest-world where all plant-life and vegetation evolved into sentience, of lesser and greater degrees. 2. The plants and vegetation evolved so greatly that many lifeforms mirrored and imitated animals from our time-period, not only in behavioral patterns and functionality, but in many cases, even in their physical description. 3. Man has (d)evolved into almost fairy-like versions of ourselves, originally without wings, very light on their feet, with climbing skills that would put most orangutans, spider monkeys, and lemurs to shame. They're only about 1 1/2 feet tall, and not an ounce of fat on them. To top it off, they're green! 4a. Because of the harsh environment, these proto-humans live in the middle of the upper & lower reaches of their web-like forest-world, ~ much in the way the Wookiees do in Star Wars on their jungle/forest-world home planet, Kashyyyk. ;)4b. Due to this, they live predictably short life-spans, maturing rapidly in order to survive, mate/have sex usually by the time they are 10 yrs old! and die, or should I say, *DROP OFF INTO THE GREEN*, at an alarming rate. 5. And, once again,this may be the most important reason why this should be a killer to read:It's a HUGO AWARD WINNING NOVEL! Further, Harlan Ellison - whose short story collection, Deathbird Stories, I like a lot - just LOVED IT!!Here are the 5 reasons why I initially struggled greatly with it:1. From the beginning pages, the world, though interesting, isn't as understandably descriptive as I needed it to be. 2. The characters I liked most from the outset either died off or were MIA for all or most of the remainder of the book, like the too few insects, such as the bee-creature on the book cover, seen here: 3. The plot was....uhhh...there was no plot! Or, at least there didn't seem to be for over half of the book (more on that later); just a bunch of fairy-sized proto-humans running around trying to survive. 4. Some characters had really annoying YA-ish - well, bad YA-ish - names that grated on my nerves to NO END, like, Poyly and Veggy (which made me constantly axe myself: Veggie as in veg·e·ta·ble? or more like as if you put a V in front of egg, throwing a Y on the end of it? Arrrghhh! 5. It would have kids mating in the middle of a strange scenario, and at other times, the younger, and less mature of the group, would show off their genitals to the elder kids to display their *manhood* and abilty to mate ~ thus clearly proving this isn't a kid's book(!) ~ only for this adult book to decline into hella weak sauce children's book dialogue, the likes of which I couldn't force myself to digest any longer, right after I was just patting myself on the back for having gotten past the halfway mark. And then I read this: "Great herder, we see you since you come. We Tummy-tree chaps are seeing your size. So know you will soon love to kill us when you go up from playing the sandwich game along with your lady in the leaves. We clever chaps are no fools, and not fools are clever to make glad for you. All the Tummy-men have no feeding and pray you give us feeding because we have no mummy Tummy-feeding--" Gren gestured impatiently. "We've no food either," he said. We are humans like you. We too must fend for ourselves.""Alas, we did not dare to have any hopes you would share your food with us, for your food is sacred and you wish to see us starve. You are very clever to hide from us the jumpvil food we know you always carry. We are glad great herder, that you make us starve if our dying makes you have a laugh and a gay song and another sandwich game. Because we are humble, we do not need food to die with..."YEP. I wanted to chuck this mutherfunker as hard as I could across the room! Or, better yet, after composing myself, let it *DROP OFF INTO THE GREEN* ORGANICS WASTE MANAGEMENT TRASH BIN outside...to let this book serve a better purpose than waste any more of my time. LUCKILY, I didn't! I picked it up again, and although I never came to like the 'tummy-belly' men, or most of the names of the creatures and characters; the carry-catchy-kind, the Traversers, the Arablers, etc., I was shocked at how engaged I became in the story, even liking the plot that somehow, subtly, snuck right up into the story with an ease and grace I feel was either genius or wonderfully accidental!It even went so far as to have this great scientific philosophy wrap-up detailed in only a few pages as to why all life on our future Earth had evolved so, and where it was quickly heading. One theory really made sense to me and made me think Brian was either a mad scientist-turned-author or had an LSD trip one evening that sent his thoughts off to the moon like a rocket, and somehow either remembered it, or, wrote part of it down, incorporating it into this sci-fi fantasy story. So, I'm giving it a final rating of 4 stars for the fact it got better and better as I got more into it, culminating in a very enjoyable read I couldn't put down, and, call it material reasons if you will, for all the beautiful imagery I got in my head while reading it, along with the gorgeous paintings and artwork associated with this novel. Don't get me wrong. It had several things I could've done without, especially the 'tummy-belly' men, some horrible names as I said earlier, and the writing sometimes had me wondering if it was translated from a different language into English because it often felt disjointed, and I would've really liked to have had more focus on certain creatures other than a few that were in the story too much, but, it was very entertaining and makes me crave a sequel or something similar. *Here are a few books said to be of the same sub-genre.
https://anaslair.wordpress.com/2015/0...I have to admit I had trouble connecting to Hothouse.First, the characters. I was not a fan of the whole Tarzan vibe, although I understand it. There isn't much to these semi-savage humans but trying to survive, so it's natural that, with such a decreased intelligence, abilities would wither, and myth and tabu would rule their lives. I just did not appreciate much people dying so easily or getting separated, and it is no big deal because it is the way. So while I understood it, I did not like it. But I hoped there would be some character growth or at the very least new ones that would make up for it, so I endured.Then, the world building. I cannot conceive our planet being able to sustain life having stopped spinning. At the very least, how could there be any wind?? Or any kind of weather at all. How could a jungle thrive if there was no rain (at least I never read about raining there) and the sun was blazing scorch?Monsters being able to transverse from Earth to the Moon through cables is just about the most ludicrous thing I have heard in a long time. It took me a while to accept that premise, as with others, like being able to access Humankind's collective memory through one human's memory.And then I have this thing where if I am reading about a world utterly different from ours, I don't want to be reading analogies to what is in my world. I feel the author should be able to describe things in another way, without having to resort to that. Yet, here I was reading about chained dogs, shaggy balloons, snakes, castles, pineapples and even sandwiches and I am wondering how the heck the characters know what all that is.It was interesting to see how a society with a majority of women would operate. However, I would have been much more interested to know why exactly men had become so rare. Still, it was intriguing to see women trying to protect the few men because they were considered so fragile and could never be in harm's way. I would have liked to know how pregnant women were treated, though. And when the characters transitioned from this tabu, I would have liked to see them acknowledge it, because it's like at some point it just stopped, even though it was 'the way'. Women kept being referred to as weak, dumb beings and I don't get why.A bit before half the book, the story started picking up, after the fungus came into action. I finally began somewhat caring about what happened to the characters and wanting to know what came next.I was heartbroken by what Gren did to the Tummy-Bellies and I suppose that was the highlight of the book for me, because it was the only time when I actually felt something. Then even those characters just started annoying the hell out of me, but I suppose that was intended. I was sad for Gren and Poyly, who needed guidance but not possession. And Yattmur was a good character as well, due to her sensibility and altruism. I wish I would have read more about Lily-yo - that storyline thoroughly intrigued me.Most of all, what really kept me from getting into the book were two things: - The writing. It was a constant rambling, which seemed to go on and on forever at times. That prose was just not something I could enjoy and kept getting in the way of the story, at times completely losing me. And there wasn't even much of a plot. The characters just kept being moved from one place to the next, without there being much to it. I can say there was some character growth, even with all the clutter, but not nearly as much as I had hoped and, to be frank, it all seemed sort of pointless to the point where, if there were any plot twists, I did not notice them.- The insane amount of vegetation named, particularly in the first few chapters. And the sad thing is maybe the author did bother to describe all of them but there were so many and with such odd names that after a while I had not a clue what I was reading about and I kept wondering when stuff would start to get exciting. Example :One of the paperwings alighted fluttering on a tuft of emerald foliage near the watchers. The foliage was a dripperlip. Almost at once the paperwing turned grey as its small nourishments content was sucked out. It disintegrated like ash.I liked that passage. However, I would have liked it even more if I could actually form in my head a clear shape of those things. Those weren't even among the weirdest names, by the way.The ARC clearly needs some editing. Some passages were very repetitive, both in words used (lie there quivering on the quivering green, cemented into place with the cement distilled(...)) and whole explanations. For instance, 94% into the book, I was reading about transversers as if it was the first time they were introduced; the entire description was redundant. Some characters should be referred to as he, and they were as she, and vice-versa. And little things here and there that just needed to be tweaked.In the end, getting through Hothouse was a labour. I am rounding the rating up because the world and characters were inventive, even if they did not make sense, but it was just not a book I could say I enjoyed reading. Disclaimer: I would like to thank the publisher and Netgalley for providing me a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.
What do You think about Hothouse (1984)?
I remember enjoying reading this novel way back in high school. Recently when it was given to me as a present, I had a chance to reread it- and I really liked it again. Hothouse is set in far, far future. The sun has grown enormous as it approaches its end, and the life on Earth (that has stopped rotating around the sun btw)is mostly plant life engaged in a crazy frenzy of eating and being eaten, speedy growth and decay, something like a tropical forest on steroids. Human beings are small and mentally they've returned to the early days of human civilization- organized in tribes ruled by matriarchs and being driven by their instincts. They live in a fast pace jungle and have little time to experience any deep thoughts, being mainly preoccupied with staying alive. That's the beginning. The story that develops soon after the start, makes this novel a page-turner, from the beginning to the end, the novel is action packed- there's always something going on. The character's development is somewhat limited in terms of intelligence, they start of as being little more than animals, but they do progress to some extent and they're likeable. They do the best they can and often it ends tragically- yes, there are tragic moments. The fungus (or the morel)- what a brilliant idea! The morel is a sentient fungus that enhances the intelligence of creatures it forms symbiotic relationships with.( There is even an indication that that is how people became smart in the first place)As a thing, character or villain- I don't know what to call it-it's well-though and incorporated into a story. The best part about the novel are the descriptions, the author is so wildly imaginative when he writes about different life forms. You almost feel like you’re watching a really great nature documentary. There is originally in this story. The feeling of life growing fanatically in the final days of a dying sun- it’s there.Hothouse is not exactly hard sf, but it's really fun to read. I've read somewhere that the editor sought scientific advice about the scientific aspect of the book( the part about the planet standing still) and that he had been told that the orbital dynamics involved meant that it was nonsense, but the image of the earth and moon side by side in orbit, shrouded with cobwebs woven by giant vegetable spiders, was so outrageous and appealing that he published it anyway. He made the right decision!
—Ivana
Written in 1962, Brian Aldiss' Hothouse is similar to works like Jack Vance's "Dying Earth" series and Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun. In most novels of this dying earth genre, the world is gasping under the weight of civilization; a million years of customs and artifacts, countless empires risen and fallen, cities piled upon cities. In Hothouse, it's nature, not culture which dominates the last days of Man.Far in the future, under a swollen red sun, the Earth and Moon have long since dragged each other to a halt, leaving one side of Earth permanently lit and the other in permanent darkness. Under the plentiful radiation on the lit side, plants have become the primary inhabitants of the land, diversifying into thousands of forms to fill every available ecological niche. Of the animal kingdom, only a few species remain: one or two insect-like predators, and a much-altered humanity. These humans are tribal hunter-gatherers, living in the canopy of a continent-spanning forest.The novel follows Gren, who is forced out of his tribe (for, essentially, excessive cleverness) and so begins a journey to seek a new home. Actually, "journey" is perhaps too charitable. Gren is more often driven from place to place by forces he can't control. Early in the novel, he is infected by a parasitic, sentient fungus which slowly takes control of his mind and plans to use Gren to conquer the world. Over the course of the book, Gren travels to the dark side of the Earth, meets a variety of strange creatures, is helped and threatened to various degrees, manages to free himself from the fungus, returns with the fungus--now as a sort of advisory partner--to the light side, is given the choice to flee the first stages of the sun's explosion by riding to the stars inside an interstellar spider-plant, and chooses ultimately to return to the jungle and make babies because--hey--he'll be dead by the time the s**t hits the fan in any case.We see much of this strange world through Gren's eyes, and he knows no more than any of his race. Many things he encounters during his journey remain mysterious, though some of human history is glimpsed in flashback as the mushroom probes (somewhat improbably) through Gren's racial memories, and at times it is possible to guess at the possible origins of species or artifacts.In addition to being delightfully strange, Hothouse takes full advantage of the philosophical possibilities of the Dying Earth setting. The fungus, perhaps, stands in for one part of contemporary human nature: though it is clearly base, cruel, selfish, perhaps even evil--it ultimately is the key to whatever salvation humanity is offered. Our hero, too, is no noble Odysseus; he is often petty, mean, or irresponsible. Yet for all that, or perhaps because of it, he seems more human than his companions--who are generally either passive or completely incomprehensible. The nature of time is also explored: the end of the world is an intellectual threat to the fungus, merely one more incomprehensible event to Gren, who wants mostly to find a good tree and settle down with a woman or two. The end of time, while tragic and romantic, is also suggested as a kind of rebirth. The "green streamers…." escaping from the planet as it dies are beautiful, and it's hard not to read hope into them. As one phase passes, so another begins.These are not particularly profound observations, although they do place the book in the realm of "cerebral" SF. But for me, the greatest achievement of Hothouse is in its depiction of a nature "green in tooth and claw" as Aldiss puts it in the book. Science fiction does not lack for scary monsters; many-tentacled aliens are a dime a dozen. But the biological horror of a relentless, vegetal Earth is something memorable. I find Venus Flytraps slightly unsettling, and a little malevolent. Hothouse takes that feeling and multiplies it to fill a planetary landscape.
—Ben
I have to confess that Hothouse left me disappointed. In Hothouse, Aldiss has created this fantastic version of Earth where the planet has stopped spinning and there is a demarcation line between a freezing half and a sweltering other half. In this world, fauna has been pushed to extinction and has been replaced by a booming flora. Indeed, only small number of humans and a number of insects survive in this world that is populated by plants that act like predatory animals. Aldiss spends a great deal of time describing the various animal-like plants that inhabit this surreal world. However, Aldiss seems to forget any sense of a plot and the "story" is basically a seemingly random journey through the jungle-scape. I seriously felt that by the end of the book I was pretty much where I had begun. Characters die left and right, but I never seemed to care because I hardly knew them. Also the languages of some of the tribes were really, really annoying to read. This is a shame because there were hints that this story could have gone somewhere, de-evolution, co-evolution, or even a classic search for El Dorado tale, but sadly these are never picked up on as each new plant horror shambles on to the pages.
—Ikiriaera
