After spending unknown hours (days? Weeks? Months?) is some sort of limbo state, deceased science fiction writer Allen Carpentier finds himself plopped down in the middle of a deserted wasteland, which he is informed is “the Vestibule of Hell.” Carpentier is understandably skeptical, and persistently resists the assistance of his rescuer/guide, a mustachioed gentleman by the name of Benito. Benito is intent on coaxing Carpentier into Hell (here an updated version of Dante’s nine-circle geography), in the hope that once he reaches the depths he will be able to emerge into Purgatory and thence to happier places. Carpentier, on the other hand, would rather stay in the pain-free First Circle with the virtuous pagans than attempt the dangerous (and painful) journey deeper into Hell. Also, Carpentier persists in his increasingly far-fetched belief that this is all some sort of hoax. However, Carpentier agrees to accompany Benito further in, in the hopes that he can collect the supplies that would enable to build a glider he can use to re-enter the First Circle. Along the way, Benito and Carpentier meet a host of past and future personalities and witness torment upon torment. But will they ever make it out? Will Carpentier succeed in making his glider? Or will he have to join Benito in his downward trek? And just who is Benito, anyway? And what happens when you get to the bottom of Hell?According to the authors, this book was intended to be a re-imagining (and update) of Dante’s famous epic poem, but with more hope and potential for growth. In other words, Dante’s geography by way of C.S. Lewis’s theology—at least as implied in The Great Divorce, Lewis’s portrayal of Heaven (or its vestibule, at any rate). As a result, each sinner is still punished for his defining sin, but he also has the opportunity to move past that sin and eventually escape Hell altogether. Or at least that’s the tale Benito tells. It does not appear that one needs any particularly charitable motive to undertake this journey—repentance is not required, merely a desire for (and belief in) escape. Most, of course, decline to seize this opportunity. After all, the lower levels are rumored to be even worse than their current torments, so any downward climb would entail escalating pain and suffering. And there’s no guarantee that this quest would be successful, anyway. Plus there’s always the risk that the dungeon masters below would be unwilling to release new victims to return to their home circles. Better to accept your punishment. Still, for those who are willing, Benito holds out the hope of escape. He even claims that others have succeeded, though the number is small and the way is difficult. Along the way, Carpentier witnesses endless suffering, and even suffers himself in turn. Niven and Pournelle‘s additions to Dante are mostly clever, and occasionally surprising. For example, advertisers are included among the flatterers, and a teacher who was a bit too free with her amateur diagnosis of dyslexia is punished for witchcraft (on the grounds that she spoke a false but ultimately self-fulfilling prophecy of failure). However, unlike Dante, Carpentier concludes not that the torment is just punishment for evil acts, but that it’s all ‘too much.’ The punishments, though rationally—and sometimes ironically—related to the crimes, are all out of proportion. And those punishments are eternal. This is admittedly a difficult theological truth—that a just and holy and loving God would eternally punish seemingly ‘minor’ sins. Heck, even the big sins don’t seem to merit eternal torment. But that’s exactly what they receive, and this outcome is consistent with God’s holiness, justice, love, and compassion. It simply doesn’t add up, to our way of thinking.It is hardly surprising, then, that Carpentier concludes that whoever set up the system is infinitely powerful and infinitely sadistic. Even Christians, indwelt by the Holy Spirit and informed by God’s inspired Word, struggle with the idea of Hell. We don’t like it. We can’t wrap our heads around the idea that anything we do could ever warrant that kind of punishment. But according to the Bible, such punishment is precisely what we deserve, and in fact it would be unjust of God not to punish us for all time, were it not for the fact that the full horror of our punishment was poured out on Christ. It is only because He bore the penalty for our sins that God can save us from damnation and still be good. This is a doozy of a theological reality, and it comes as no surprise that Niven and Pournelle fail to comprehend it. The only way they can imagine Hell is if it’s some sort of test, some sort of refinery that people have the power to leave if they so choose (and the power, when it comes, comes from one’s own will). And even then, the creator of this Hell is decried as sadistic and merciless—powerful, to be sure, but with a corrupted idea of justice. Carpentier is perfectly willing to judge this Judge and refuses to worship a God who keeps His own private ‘torture chamber.’ All of which is a perfectly logical worldly response to the doctrine of Hell. But as a Christian, I was discomfited by the constant disparagement of the holiness and justice of God—the constant accusations and self-justification. My mom always says that I shouldn’t be surprised when pagans act like pagans. I don’t know anything about Niven and Pournelle’s own beliefs, but they certainly write like pagans—that is, people who are determined to judge God by their own standards. It’s an interesting read, to be sure, especially for those who’ve read and enjoyed the original Inferno. And it does highlight the world’s questions about Hell and judgment. I suppose that in and of itself is of some value, since we as Christians need to know the world’s questions in order to give the world answers. But since I suspect the answer here lies in God-given faith in God’s words about Himself, not in any rational explanation, I don’t know that wallowing in the question is all that helpful.Still, it’s a decently written book (with a few minor inconsistencies). I don’t know that it deserved to be nominated for the Hugo and Nebula, but it’s not a crummy book, either. I just didn’t find it terribly edifying.
I've always been a fan of Dante Alighieri's Inferno, having read it multiple times for pleasure and never once as an assignment, and so I was intrigued by the "reimagining" of Dante's trek through Hell on the way to salvation.This time around, the pilgrim is a science-fiction writer (and insufferable douche) named Allen Carpenter, who finds himself in the Vestibule of Hell after a drunken stunt at a sci-fi convention for the benefit of unappreciative fans goes unfortunately wrong. He is discovered by an erstwhile guide who just happened to be a war criminal in life, and together they take a tour of the damned as they attempt to escape.The book relies heavily on Dante's map of the underworld, directly referencing Dante's story more than once, and some of the reworked torments resonate with irony and dark humor. However, I just didn't like Allen enough to sympathize with him. He spends most of the journey attempting to rationalize what he is seeing through the lens of the stories he writes, and this goes on for much too long in this short book. It starts to feel almost self-referential on the part of Niven and Pournelle, which gets irritating and distracting. Allen's guide is an interesting character, though, and by the end of the book the relationship between him and Allen (and the purpose for their little sightseeing adventure) becomes satisfyingly clear.Inferno is a quick, interesting, and fun read, though it really just made me want to read Dante again. That being said, it made Dante's version of Hell a little more believable to my modern sensibilities. I might just check out the recent sequel to see where they go from here.
What do You think about Inferno (1978)?
(Original review: http://hill-kleerup.org/blog/2009/06/...)"Inferno", for those who haven’t read it, is a revisiting of Dante’s playground, only in this case it’s an untimely dead mid-grade SF writer dealing disbelievingly with a somewhat updated Hell, led by a mysterious figure who promises the way out can be found at the bottom. Great satire, fun SF, and some decent philosophy, too.The “Authors’ Preferred Edition” introduces a bit more text — mostly explanations and expansions on the philosophical musings, plus an Afterword. I wouldn’t say that it’s a vast improvement over the original, but it feels a bit more solid, less of a “let’s hurry on to the next cool idea” sort of setup. Buy it if you’re a fan, or if you’ve never read it before. (The sequel, "Escape from Hell", was just released this spring.)
—***Dave Hill
Unsurprisingly, this is based on Dante's Inferno. If you didn't guess that in advance, the dedication to Dante is a pretty solid hint. Basically, it is the medieval tale updated to the 20th century. There are racing cars in this Hell that have no problem going over and through people. (Did I mention this is most definitely NOT a kids' book?) The main character, Sci Fi writer, Carpentier, has a very 20th century guide. Billy the Kid is a character in this book. Some modern day sins are slotted in along with the medieval ones. Gliders and space shuttles are mentioned. However, I simply didn't find it impressive the way I did Dante's Inferno. I suspect the difference is belief. Carpentier keeps looking for scientific explanations of events until he finally admits maybe he better just believe there is a real Hell and he is in it and that he cannot explain it all by 20th century science. The Devil is actually a rather helpful figure for the small amount of room he had in the story. Not necessarily pleasant mind you, but helpful in a way. Nonetheless, there simply isn't the belief that makes Dante's Inferno so compelling. There is quite an interesting twist at the end. Finally, the authors' note mentions that they did a sequel to this book called, gasp, Inferno II. I might try that one after I retire but I don't have the interest in it that I simply have got to get ahold of the book and read it ASAP by any means.
—Joan
First of all I’ll admit of not having actually read Dante’s INFERNO, the book on which this book is based. Therefore some of the references mean little to em. But this version of INFERNO is nonetheless a compelling read which works on two levels. First, as the straightforward horror story, the tale of an innocent man (but is he really innocent?) descending into the seven circles of Hell and discovering all manner of suffering and pain on his way down. There are many memorable horrific images in
—Graham
