Review: The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi

In some of my earliest blogasms I spoke of my evolution to becoming a fan of Science Fiction. I was already – as a reader – a hardened veteran of the fantastic but it took awhile – even after my first read - Chapterhouse: Dune, to get to a point that reading Science Fiction was more than a situation caused by the ill-timed, concentrated happenstance of people of astounding good taste checking out books on my library queue (I was a regular at the library but I was still too hard to put a book on reserve) that at times made me take a stab at SF before I’d actually have considered myself an active fan, somebody who left his house hell-bent on picking up some Iain M. Banks, Justina Robson, Ken Macleod, John C. Wright, Maureen McHugh or Charles Stross By the time the net came around (which I date by when I started looking) and I was asking about Science Fiction, people were recommending books like Zivkovic’s Fourth Circle or Mike Harrison’s Light two first rate pieces of fiction to be sure, but you are aware you skipped a step and after awhile you’re not sure if those steps necessarily leads upwards and I found myself looking back. I like to explore anything I haven’t before, even if it means retracing steps, even steps that don’t belong to me.

There is a race-traitor and when we are talking about humanity there are no lack of suitors, no surplus of allies in the absence of fair-weather, a traitor who holds secrets that have the highest levels of Colonial Defence Forces concerned. Charles Boutin, a scientist of some genius, has died – only his body is to be found to be a clone he himself shot with a shotgun (yes, a shotgun) in the head. Left with no clue of his motivations or whereabouts the decision is made to uses Boutin’s own soul to find him. It should be said that the titular Ghost Brigades are the CDF’s Special Forces. People grown to help protect humans, gifted with advanced physical and mental prowes, they are humanities’ children, literal army brats. It is not, however, what they are given that set them apart however, it is what is removed – they are essentially stripped of any genetic fat, and in sixteen weeks awaken as ready for training soldiers. They are also given an invention that appears to be nothing less than humanities technological trump card – the Brainpal. A Brainpal allows for the creation of such soldiers, such people and afterwards performs several tactical and social purposes. Boutin was a key figure in the development of the Brainpal – and thus a scientist gone missing quickly becomes a mad scientist, one who made a couple of mistakes, the first was leaving a piece of himself behind. Used for his own experimentation the CDF finds what is essentially a copy of Bautin’s consciousness – his soul or brain, it’s debatable, and what to employ it to locate him. Using the technology they utilize to create Special Forces Soldiers from the DNA base of the dead they give birth to Jared Dirac in hopes that he will have with him Boutin’s memories. What occurs is more or less, better late than never.

It isn’t an uneventful time to be a soldier, the CDF has learned that three other alien races have united in an unlikely alliance and Jared finds himself in midst of it but it is his journey to personal choice that is at the heart of Scalzi’s story. The Special Forces are creatures of objectives, outcome and instincts – they go on missions, fight, but even in celebration, their integrated orgies are instinctual acts. A Special Forces General, Szilard, in a different discussion says:

“A day with this capability and your opinion of the complexity of the human mind will suffer an irreversible decline”

Makes you want to scratch out mind reading on the super powers question. We are all - for the most part - rather simple creatures.

Choice is a gift and almost every significant character in the novel defines themselves: a man who chooses not to go out quietly, a Rraery who chooses to live, a race that chooses to be unleashed from perfection, a next-gen Captain who chooses not to piss and freedom, a brutal choice of a mother, a scientist who chooses himself – a human who chooses to choose. What’s often not neglected in fiction is the divisions within a government or military, what is neglected I think is the extreme examples we are often exposed to in telling. Scalzi puts us in meeting with different branch brass, with their own personalities, their own origins, their own constitutes they lead, but they serve a single purpose – humanity. How they govern, Scalzi illustrates, is entirely questionable, even objectionable, but there is no added schism overplayed that would seem unbecoming of people of their position. They are not at a war with themselves that leave the office and in a universe where lines separate species and race they cannot be. Practicality is not ignored.. They are certainly aware of colonial tensions, but their job is to keep it together – not play silly games. This doesn’t mean questions aren’t asked, they are just encountered questions not scripted ones. The social outlook of members of the Special Forces, The Ghost Brigades; the way they are viewed by the majority of humanity, the realborn, but is not presented in this overt, over-burdening manner – Scalzi kills the messenger and allows us to listen to the story, and thus we are able to enjoy brief instances of natural and enjoyable banter of a realborn transport pilot, quietly inserted as an example of ideal human outlook; Jared’s own journey that at different times gives us the perspective of a child, a father, a patriot, while a part of him is the essence of a traitor.

I guess for those such things matter to The Ghost Bridgades could be called Military Science Fiction, but more importantly it’s a highly accessible brand of Science Fiction that I find myself enjoying much more than I’d thought I would up to this point. This is the third Scalzi novel I have read and upon completing the first - Old Man’s War - I came away satisfied but with a feel that it was in a fashion I noted above, a reprieve; I enjoyed it but I have to admit it I was considering it more a guilty pleasure and one that I didn’t would have staying power, perhaps a couple tricks short, but while I don’t see this incredible evolution in the product, my enthusiasm hasn’t depreciated. These are types of reads that even in the presence of instances that may normally agitate us or are clearly defined and agreed upon fundamental facets of our internal ‘not to do’ checklist: Scalzi info-dumps with alarming frequency and does so in such an unabashedly manner instead of scowling you find yourself almost wanting to cheer him on, daring him to do it again - daring ourselves to enjoy seeing it done again. It should be understood that just being able to acknowledge this is proof of a tenuous line, certainly one could be appalled, and it is difficult to explain why it’s acceptable here and not elsewhere; why Scalzi can get away with telling, not showing, and as I flip back through certain instances (involving the Brainpal, certain species’ political infrastructure etc) I find that while abundant, they are always pertinent, always following a reader’s what or how and while a certain degree of spoon feeding is certainly occurring, you kind of run into a circumstance of finding a favorite spoon.. Another quality that they share is that they are interesting. So many who practice info-dump in Science Fiction, fill these portions with tech-jargon that require info-dumps for the info-dumps. My two favorite descriptive words in reviewing are tension and flow and as along as you have tension in a story and it flows in unewcombed manner, I don’t care if you are using a spoon, fork, or spork - it will be effective. The Ghost Bridgade is not hindered by the dumps because there is a economy to the narrative, a whip to the dialogue that always bring you back and going full steam ahead. It’s the same thing a Charlie Huston in his Joe Pitt Case novels and it’s for the same reason that he can make a book about modern vampires remotely interesting. It won’t make your head explode, but call me crazy - I don’t mind enjoying books I completely comprehend, grasp, and walk away from with a full picture. I love jumping through hoops, covering my wall with outlines and family trees rendered in disappearing ink, be it the blueprint of a house of leaves or listening to Martin’s song, I just don’t find my tastes to be so specialized, indeed I find people with specialized (publicly announced) tastes to be rather dross.

There are instances I wish Scalzi held back and allowed the reader his chop sticks – an example would occur at a meeting at the end with the brass to discuss residual security issues and we already knew why it wasn’t an issue as George R.R. Martin told us earlier (for real, kinda) – not an issue with everything being wrapped up, just the unnecessary action of someone explaining to you how they wrapped your gift. The motivation of such could be a direct desire to offer completely stand-alone novels. The Ghost Brigade can be read with no other Scalzi sentence preceeding it, and does not require reading Old Man’s War at all. This novel can be your first, full experience with the author.

Interestingly noted within The Ghost Brigades itself is Card’s Ender’s Game which I consider - even when not an actual participant with first hand experience - the quintessential gateway Science Fiction publication of the last thirty plus years and while 80’s minds are no longer ripe for the picking, Scalzi doesn’t begrudge us for it – and he indeed seems to not only acknowledge it, but embraces it. There is pride here that isn’t in a lot of action-based fiction, that you’re reading a story that the author is not only trying to sale but would like to read. Scalzi rumbles through themes as they are naturally applied or perceived by the characters – no soldiers waxing poetic to introduce them. I want to call The Ghost Brigades a throw-back, but generally such a word is used in the context of affection for the source – I am not a child of your grand father’s SF, and while there are examples of recent success like Jay Lake’s (Rocket Science I am not a reader that comes running because a work is garnering comparisons to a Heinlein feel. Indeed for me it is cause for some amount of trepidation, but there is a dash of probing sensibility in Scalzi’s work that exposes the briefest brush of PKD that keeps one just stimulated enough to enjoy the ride. It is more aptly described as a throw forward, it bypasses the era of the mind-fuck, of smoke, mirrors and depression and trades them in for guns, soldiers, and blowing shit up and lands in what feels to be an actual story first, not a pseudo-psychological personal manifesto with a spaceship or two thrown in. Let me be the first to admit – I dig that stuff, but it should be noted it’s not progression – its simply another branch. I like Frank from Middlesex and Ming the Merciless. The quantity ‘complexity’ as it relates to fiction can be misconstrued. The Ghost Brigades certainly is an effort that could be picked up by almost anyone with little worry in being caught over one’s head, but that shouldn’t be construed as – at least for me – predictable in conclusion. I stand rather embarrassed at some of my own early predictions.

Scalzi will probably never be my favorite writer, but he doesn’t care and you won’t either, but he takes a brand of Science Fiction too often spoken of as that reprieve and gives it a habitual quality in a manner usually seen with grander operas and comes off as a thriller – in the best way – cut of a Westerfield corner. A Risen Special Mission. Scalzi’s purpose here is to tell a story and in today’s Science Fiction that’s not as altogether as common a commodity as one would think. In a world where Science Fiction seems to increasingly be a proving ground for new art, Scalzi taps into what made it art in the first place; Scalzi offers an alternative, he offers the reader of this world choice, one we could all share.

_{*I thought I was writing this for FBS but it seemes it has been reviewed by Neth already there and you can read that here}