The Many-Colored Land by Julian May*
429 pages
Published 1981
Read from May 7 to May 9
Rating: ★★★½ out of 5
*Denotes a reread.
Memory is a funny thing. (This is a totally original and noteworthy insight, copyright by me.) An old text document, titled "Books of 2005," informs me that I read The Many-Colored Land in its entirety in early June, 2005. Yet I remembered essentially nothing from it. The three chapters of the prologue were vaguely familiar; the end of Madame Guderian's wardship over the time-portal rang a bell; I definitely recalled Aiken Drum's proclamation, "I choose Exile," even though I had zero memory of Aiken Drum as a character. And that was everything I retained from that initial reading, nine years ago. None of the characters, none of the events, and certainly not the split-in-half climax (read the exciting adventures of the other main characters in Volume II of the Pliocene Exile, The Golden Torc!) felt familiar as I read it all again this week.
I hadn't reread a book since late 2010 or so; there's too much out there in the world to waste time rereading the same old stories, an insight I didn't attain until I'd farted away almost 30 years rereading the same old stories. I'm glad I took the time to reread this one, though, and not only because I intend to persevere through the rest of the Pliocene Exile saga for the first time. Land was a tremendously enjoyable pulpy adventure in the best "toss in a bit of everything" late '70s/early '80s style, and I enjoyed it more now than I believe I did back in '05, because reading new things these past few years has educated me on the genre conventions and references May tossed in. A basic fact that I never would have grasped nine years ago: Land is an elaborately disguised tale of Faery. I have a vague vague vague impression that I thought the Tanu/Firvulag "aliens" were silly when I first read it, but now I know their cultural context, and May's conceit seems mildly clever, especially for when it was published.
Of course, Land suffers from other markers of its publication date. The supporting human cast is a textbook example of the Village People approach to diversity. Authors of the time were trying to present a more inclusive sense of humanity, but they can't resist making the Native American say "How" and fight with a tomahawk, or having the lesbian character make unwelcome and aggressive advances on other women. And every single lead human character is of Western European extraction. The characterization of the leads is basic pop psychology stuff, wherein a single childhood trauma is the primary catalyst for all subsequent personality development.
In order to enjoy anything published before, say, 1999, especially in genre fiction, it's always necessary to say "Well, for its time..." And as a white hetero cisgender male [edit a few years later: no, I’m not], I have an easier time than anyone making that hand-wave. I'm looking forward to The Golden Torc, and even have plans now to read the other May books set in the same universe, e.g. the Galactic Milieu series.
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