RED RISING (2014)
By Pierce Brown
Del Rey, 416 pages,
978-0345539809
* * *
Pierce Brown's gripping dystopian sci-fi novel raises
important questions about the lies leaders tell. It also raises less substantive
ones such as: Is there a line between homage and rip-off? There are echoes of Harry Potter, Ender's Game, and Lord of the Flies in Red Rising. It's also a secularized
version of Roman mythology, but it borrows so much from The Hunger Games that the phrase "intellectual
plagiarism" lurks in the back of the mind even as one greedily devours the
pages.
Red Rising is set
in the future. Its protagonist, 16-year-old Darrow, is a "Helldiver"
on Mars, a miner who works in a bulky pressurized suit in underground chambers
populated by poisonous pit vipers and explosive gas pockets. He already has a
young, rail-thin wife, Eo, because life on Mars is short, brutish, and nasty.
Not only do atmospheric conditions take a toll on the body, but food and other
comforts are (allegedly) in short supply on a planet that's stratified by skin
pigmentation. (Think the districts in The
Hunger Games.) Darrow and Eo are Reds, a low stratum in a society ruled by
taller, smarter, more muscular Golds. The Golds, whom we quickly surmise are
analogous to an elite version of a fascist-style military junta, maintain strict
discipline—right down to doling out rewards, controlling food supplies, and imposing the death penalty for certain songs—but they
also draw upon species loyalty. As the tale goes, earth's atmosphere was
ruined, hence mankind had to colonize other planets. The materials Helldivers
such as Darrow are mining will help humankind terraform other worlds and
construct sustainable atmospheres so that future humans can live outside of their
bio-domes. The untold truth is that the secret for doing both was discovered
centuries earlier and the well-fed Golds are living in luxurious cities on the Martian
surface. Eo shows this to Darrow by taking him into a forbidden chamber and
then publicly singing a forbidden song so that she will be martyred and Darrow
will fulfill what she sees as his revolutionary destiny. In true Hero's Journey
fashion, Darrow very reluctantly takes up the challenge.
First, though, he must undergo a transformation—Red must
become Gold—and that's far more complex than a furtive dye job. Darrow is given
over to Dancer, a Gold collaborator, who helps him prepare for this role, and
to a series of "Carvers," who literally remake his body into that of
a demigod. But can Darrow pass socially and intellectually? That's not easy
either, as he must undergo rigorous leadership training at a sort of Holgwart's
in the sky academy with other ambitious Golds. Moreover, the ruling elite—headed
by ArchGovernor Nero au Augustus—also have a trial-by-combat final test to see
who will fulfill what role in Gold society and they are willing to accept quite
a bit of 'melt' in the form of crippling injury and death to assure that only
the fittest survive. If you're imagining an obvious Hunger Games parallel at this point, you are correct—right down to
each candidate having a Proctor/sponsor—individuals named after Roman gods in
this case. Although there are official teams—Mars in Darrow's case—leadership
must be won, not assumed, which means intra- as well inter-rivalries. As in The Hunger Games unofficial alliances
form, betrayals abound, loyalties are always ambiguous, and the results are
often rigged. Although Brown throws in a few novel twists—including Darrow's growing
attraction for a woman from a rival team named Mustang, his guilt over Eo's
death, and his rivalry/friendship with a teammate named Cassius—this truly is The Hunger Games with different window
treatments. It's analogous right down to being book one of a planned trilogy,
so we know that Darrow has to survive no matter what perils he faces.
In addition to being derivative, there are some rather
obvious logic errors throughout the book, including the fact that Darrow kept
his unusual name and appended it to a made up family history. Why don't snakes
need oxygen? More perplexing: How is it that a ruling elite smart enough to
keep miners in the dark for 700 years doesn't wonder about a Gold from an unknown
family who just happens to have the first name of a Red who went missing right
after his wife was executed?
I plowed through the book because Brown is an engaging
writer and he threw in enough small details to intrigue me, like how different
colors on the planet swore. I also have to admit that having just finished
several denser novels preconditioned me for some cheap thrills and escapism.
Whether you will enjoy Red Rising depends upon where you come down on the pastiche-versus-pilfering
question. I give Brown high marks for writing, but low scores for creativity.
I've also had my fix, so I rather doubt I'll read the sequels.
Rob Weir
1 comment:
I agree with you on the points for writing but none for creativity. It only gets worse in his sequel Golden Son, which has so many ripped off quotes from popular sci-fi movies and books I actually was disappointed I bought the books in the first place. Star Wars, Dune, Serenity, even Charlie Chaplin's iconic speech, just to name a few. Dude didn't even try to come up with something witty on his own, I believe. Just laziness disguised as fanboy "easter eggs". I'd argue it's borderline plagiarism.
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