Customer Reviews

Lurulu (The Sequel to Ports of Call)

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Intentionally or not, "Ports of Call" and "Lurulu" are Vance's "Candide" in form as well as in spirit, and the very discernible morale of his story is surprisingly Voltairian: neither idealistic self-abnegation nor accidental wealth bring peace and fulfillment to human mind. A man is best off doing something pertaining to his inborn nature, cultivating his chosen garden and spending his free time taking a dram or two of "ardent liquor" while conversing with his good old friends.

"Lurulu" is a wise and somewhat tired ending to the less tired "Ports of Call." It brings the scant plot threads of "Ports" to their disparate conclusions -- sort of. One of the main ideas of both "Ports" and "Lurulu," however, is not the plot in itself, it is a farewell kaleidoscope of Jack's favorite planet-vistas, which become noticeably bleaker and sketchier to the end. The other major idea of these two half-books is a search for the nature of human happiness, fulfillment and destiny, which is shown to be quite futile. The best thing in life is, Vance concludes, a relative isolation of a small group of the detached observers of life, preferably well-heeled, in the constant state of mental, emotional, and physical escape. Dismal thoughts it evokes, indeed. Life is not unlike an onion of delusions: the more you peel them, the more you cry, and in the end there's nothing.

Many Vance's readers would feel that these last two books are anticlimactic, overly schematic, too founderous, even unconvincing time to time, and -- let us not mince the words -- lacking in novelty, in engrossing situations and in well-shaped, likable characters. All true. Even Vance's fortissimo, his descriptions of alien landscapes and weird customs, are devoid of their former vividness and conviction.

Reconsider, however. Maybe "Lurulu" is not such an anticlimax after all. Jack Vance always had a penchant for the cold, somewhat frustrating touch of reality in the last paragraphs of his books. Perhaps, "Lurulu" serves well as one large, cold, somewhat frustrating conclusion to all of his life's work.

Jack makes several strong statements: not surprisingly, against the ugliness and immorality of religion, against the ugliness and immorality of modernist ("avant-garde") art. To the end he remains a humanist, a preacher of doubt and moderation, of reasonable kindness without mandatory compassion, of self-restraint without self-punishment, of minimizing the inevitable sufferings we all cause each other in order to survive. Taking into account Jack's age, his blindness, and the substandard milieu he must lean upon and endure, Jack Vance remains a miracle giant of mind and spirit, an enviable example of graceful, endlessly forgiving genius who illuminated the dusk of the Western civilization with his (last?) Voltairian smile of reason.

This book does all the things that Vance typically does better than anyone else. His style still has the dry humor, distance, and color that is so distinctive and instantly recognizable. The plot consists of the typical picaresque interplanetary romance that Vance has so often written, creating culture after culture to display human foolishness in a hundred different and amusing manifestations. If you've enjoyed everything else Vance has written, as I have, you'll enjoy this book too.

The inescapable fact is, however, that the book is far from Vance's prime, and Vance is clearly tired. The last half of the book ties up every loose plot thread as quickly as it decently can just to get it over with. Ports of Call was definitely a stronger beginning, and it seems as if he intended a bigger work but just ran out of energy. Although Lurulu is enjoyable on its own terms, the biggest disappointment is the realization that given Vance's situation, there aren't going to be any more Demon Princes, Tschai, Cugel, Lyonesse, or the countless other books that have given so much pleasure for so many years.

As noted by others, Lurulu is the last part of one novel begun in Ports of Call. Reading Lurulu on its own without having read Ports of Call will be unsatisfying.

Lurulu picks up loosely where Ports of Call had ended rather abruptly, following the adventures of typical young Vance hero Myron Tany and his shipmates aboard the Glicca (the taciturn captain, Maloof Adair, the impressionable Wingo, and the gaudy Fay Schwatzendale).

Most of the loose plot threads from PoC are resolved in Lurulu, though some are disposed of very abruptly. But Lurulu is not to be read for its plot structure. The characterization is fairly well done, though Myron takes a backseat to Maloof, and Schwatzendale is surprisingly neglected. As is often the case with Vance, the scenery and sociology dominate the narrative. The various planets visited by the Glicca are given somewhat short shrift compared to the usual meticulous Vance treatment. And as he approaches 90, Vance has begun to repeat his earlier works at times. PoC was very reminiscent in spots of Vance's Space Opera.

Also at times, Vance's usual air of sardonic detachment deserts him, and a merely querulous attitude is apparent.

But all in all, Lurulu and PoC comprise a very representative Vance novel. But it is not a book likely to make the unappreciated author any new fans. You almost have to already be familiar with Vance to appreciate Lurulu. I second the recommendation of the Tschai novels as a good introduction to Vance.

Lurulu's ending, however, is almost perfect if unsurprising. The ex-sailor Vance is one of the last romanticizers of the spaceways, and all of his readers should be affected by the way in which Myron's story is resolved.

I've read Jack Vance's work off and on for years now, but it's only until I stumbled upon "Lurulu" - most likely his last novel - that I realize now that he may be one of science fiction's finest literary stylists. "Lurulu", the sequel to "Ports of Call", is more of an engaging fictional wanderjahr across the galaxy, than your typical space opera replete with starships blasting away at each other and mysterious alien cultures. Once more First Officer Myron Tany and Captain Adair Maloof are the main protagonists and crew of the merchant ship Glicca, as she travels from planet to planet in the Gaean Reach. Tany has some unexpected good fortune thrusted upon him towards the end of this novel, and without disclosing how "Lurulu" ends, will say that it does end at a rather surprising, but satisfying note. If this may be Jack Vance's last novel, then I think it is is merely a fine coda to a great career writing elegant tales of science fiction and fantasy.

This is still good Vance but not great Vance. I have to take issue with Harriet Klausners review (Harriet is amazons number one reviewer). This is not Seinfeld in outer space. Her review sounds like a publicity gloss - sonething put together by a publishing house hack who has not read the book.

The book might indeed be a meandering picaresque type. But this is the type Jack Vance loves doing and he does so well - see Cudgels saga - Planet of Adventure - Show Boat World - The Demon Princes Series - etc etc - the picareque miander is Jacks favourite and preferred style of book.

Jack Vances style is very special and very perculiar - it mixes danger with commedy. But the danger is rather restrained and clean and the commedy is a rare brew of brutal wistfulness coupled with dashes of irony, satire and physical buffoonery.

It is a rather rarified and strange mix - a rare tincture which readers enjoy but find hard to pin down with any exactitude.

I repeat it is not Seinfeld in outerspace - and it is not some existential tome that tells of lifes petit meaningless.

Rather it is good writing for good writings sake.

I have read all (or virtually all) of Vance's science fiction, and have been looking forward to "Lurulu" for the last five years, since I finished reading "Ports of Call."

You'll remember that "Ports of Call" and "Night Lamp" were published about the same time. "Night Lamp" was a masterwork; "Ports of Call" was not. "Ports" was interesting and amusing but ended suddenly, without resolving any of the numerous plot threads left hanging. At the beginning of "Lurulu," Vance includes a note to readers explaining that, at end of "Ports," he had enough material for a book, so he stopped writing. Huh??? That is not the typical approach of fiction or science fiction authors, who generally stop writing when the story reaches some kind of logical resting point. Did Vance have some sort of oddball contract with his publisher, where he was required to write two books before getting the promised payment? But, maybe I'm being uncharitable. Other reviews suggest that he is in ill health -- which I would be very sorry to hear.

At any rate, as a conclusion to Ports of Call, "Lurulu" is underwhelming. The inimitable Vance style is present, particularly in the negotiations between the crew of the Glicca and various port agents. This, for me, made the book indispensable. But, the plot is pretty much a lost cause.

Captain Maloof's imperious, aged, seduced mother distractingly echoes Myron's imperious, aged, seduced Aunt Hester. The mysterious crew of pilgrims bound for Kyril, who appeared in "Ports" to be involved in some nefarious business, turn out to be just a crew of pilgrims. Their mysterious trunks, said to be full of sacred soil, turned out to be a non-event. The troupe of Mouse-riders performs a memorable show on one planet, but (as another reviewer comments) really doesn't add much to the rest of the book. Indeed, since they have been underemployed and penniless for months, their sudden departure leaves one wondering how, realistically, they could have paid their fare.

In sum, if you have read Vance and love his work (as I do), and particularly if you have read "Ports of Call," you will want "Lurulu." But, if you are unfamiliar with Vance and/or haven't read "Ports," don't buy this book -- buy "Night Lamp" or "Cugel's Saga" instead.

_Lurulu_ is Jack Vance's latest novel, a sequel (really a completion) of his previous novel, _Ports of Call_. _Ports of Call_ appeared in 1998, so it took Vance 6 years to complete _Lurulu_, which is only about 70,000 words long. It seems that Vance is likely done writing novels -- after all, he is nearly 90, and nearly blind. Alas that there may be no more from this wonderful writer! -- but let's celebrate what we have.

As for _Lurulu_, it's an enjoyable novel. It does not open any new vistas, but who would expect that at this stage of the man's career? It opens with a very long prologue recapitulating much of _Ports of Call_ -- this only serves to emphasize what we knew already -- that _Ports of Call_ should not have been published by itself, that it was only complete with _Lurulu_. Myron Tany is a young man in the Gaean Reach, frustrated with his parents' desire that he live a boring ordinary life. He visits his eccentric Aunt and ends up haring across the Galaxy on her spaceship, only to see her fall afoul of a blatant con-man. He himself ends up a crewman on the Glicca, a tramp freighter, and he and his fellow crewmen travel to various curious planets, in the mean time transporting various odd passengers.

In _Lurulu_ things are much the same. Several further planets are visited. A variety of plot threads are introduced, and vaguely resolved, the most obvious being the ship Captain's quest for the man who appears to have murdered his father and seduced his mother. Myron eventually finds his Aunt, and he also eventually resolves a love affair begun in _Ports of Call_. All are in pursuit of lurulu, an ideal condition of satisfaction with life or something of the sort. The conclusion is, this being Vance, mildly ironic, mildly misogynistic, and worldly-wise.

The novel as a whole is very episodic and discursive. Certain threads and ideas are advanced then abandoned. In many ways it reads like a novel that a man in his 80s took 6 years to write -- but not necessarily in a bad way. Vance's prose remains purely enjoyable, and his societal constructions intriguing and amusing. Certainly worth reading -- not a Vance masterpiece but a book very representative of his career.

Vance modestly describes this book as containing the left-over material from Ports of Call. The stories are not new to a reader of Vance - a hunt for a sex criminal, a foolish religious sect, a dramatic performance that goes wrong, these we have seen before.

What delights about this book, however, what prompts me to give it five stars, is the language. Vance has always been known for his startling turns of phrase, his carved and graven prose, but this is the best and most consistent example of it that I can remember seeing. Where in previous books the wit came in flashes, here I saw the full illuminations.

I have some individual points of disagreement in detail with my reviewing predecessors, but they are not important, compared to the following:

Lurulu is not the second book in a series. It is the second half of a single novel, of which Ports of Call is the first half. And while the first chapter of Lurulu summarizes Ports of Call nicely, it is no substitute for reading the real thing. Would you be satisfied with a one-chapter summary of Pride and Prejudice up to the point where Elizabeth rejects Darcy's offer of marriage, and then continuing on with the rest? You--as a serious reader--will do yourself a disservice if you do not read Ports of Call before tackling Lurulu.

Another point: this is not the right place to begin an acquaintance with Jack Vance, who indeed is one of the great writers of the 20th Century (and not only among genre writers), any more than you should make your first acquaintance of Verdi's operas with Otello and Falstaff. If you do not yet know Vance, I would suggest starting with The Demon Princes or The Planet of Adventure, omnibus volumes of his brilliant multinovel planetary adventures (which of course are much more than that), which have the considerable virtue of being in print and purchasable from this site. Once you have begun to get a sense of Vance's inimitable style--utterly atypical of the science fiction genre, yet of trememdous influence on it--as presented in the works of his maturity, you will be ready to experience the mastery displayed in the works of his old age: the Lyonesse trilogy, the Cadwal Chronicles, Night Lamp and, finally (or dare we hope--not?) Ports of Call + Lurulu. The other side is this: if you are not captivated by The Demon Princes or The Planet of Adventure, then you are pitiably immune to Vance.

Bottom line: read this, by all means. But read it after reading its first half and after reading enough mature Vance to be sufficiently prepared for its uniqueness and to be convinced of your receptiveness to it. Not everybody is, just as there are poor souls immune to Jane Austen.

And while you're at it, read the rest of Vance. The man has been writing for more than six decades. He has produced an immense body of work of unbelievably high quality. Much of it is not in print, but is available from used bookstores and catalogued at ABEbooks. Many are not aware of his excursions into the genre of mystery under his full name, John Holbrook Vance, and a number of pseudonyms (under one of which he won an Edgar). These are works of varying quality, but the best of them are as good as it gets (The Fox Valley Murders, The Pleasant Grove Murders, The House on Lily Street, The View from Chickweed's Window and especially The Dark Ocean, which incredibly never found a publisher other than Underwood-Miller. And then there is the immensely disturbing Bad Ronald, a portrayal of a psychopath so true that it leaves one feeling uncomfortable with one's emotions and desires, much like Nabokov's Lolita, another of the 20th Century's greatest novels).

And if you're a part of the choir I'm preaching to, you should know about the Vance Integral Edition (http://www.vanceintegral.com), where you can acquire Vance's complete works, stripped of the considerable editorial intervention to which he was subject, for probably less money than you would spend for five of the rarer mysteries. But hurry: I'm writing on the 11th of December, 2004. Subscriptions will close in a month or so. (Full disclosure: I've been a volunteer on the VIE project since September of 1999. If this posting recruits one additional subscriber I will feel like a hero.)

This is the most recent and final book by Jack Vance and it is the sequel to Ports of Call (so buy both books and read the other one first; I imagine they will be combined in future as they are a single work). For reasons below, I consider it one of his finest novels and absolutely required for anyone who has read more than a dozen Vance books.

The story here is carried forward by stops in a journey, each episode sketched with ease. The action, worlds and characters are new, yet they deliberately evoke his past themes. From a few pages, fans may recall entire past novels. Vance can therefore write sparingly, and yet marshal a many-hued nuance that is rich and satisfying.

Working thus, Vance delivers a single story that tours the best of his voluminous life's work, illuminated now from the full bloom of his perspective in older age. Dispensing with incidentals, he comes to the essence of each situation and communicates a total world-view that transcends and unites his earlier individual works.

By the end, you get it... and you are filled with an ineluctable joy and sadness. It's a feeling that only deepens when you realize that Vance's last novel was both a masterpiece and an endpiece to his career, and that you have experienced his great art for the very final time.