![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nuranarThis time I'm quick with another Alistair MacLean review! In the past year I've pretty much exhausted his pre-1970 books. Now I'm working my way through the later ones. (Complete list and links here.) I'm not bothering to read them in order, since by most accounts their quality, although uniformly poor in comparison to his previous excellence, varies. I'd rather go in with poor expectations and be surprised.
To be entirely frank, I'm getting this review out of the way because I'm wanting to ramble. As I've read more and more MacLeans, I'm really beginning to grasp the depth and variety and consistencies of his work. In addition, there are certain allegations on the Wikipedia MacLean article that I want to address.
To be entirely frank, I'm getting this review out of the way because I'm wanting to ramble. As I've read more and more MacLeans, I'm really beginning to grasp the depth and variety and consistencies of his work. In addition, there are certain allegations on the Wikipedia MacLean article that I want to address.
Alistair MacLean's Athabasca
Athabasca was published in 1980. Particularly apropos for today, it concerns the oil industry. Most of you don't remember the oil crisis of the 1970s, but it was a pretty big thing from what I've heard. *g* Athabasca takes place in far North America on two oil mining sites: Prudhoe Bay, the Arctic Sea terminus of the Alaska Pipeline, and the Athabasca tar sands, north of Edmonton, Alberta.
When both sites receive threats of sabotage, Jim Brady and his partners in oil-production security are in the thick it, trying to protect the sites and stop the damage, but ultimately to find the culprits. It's a tricky situation because oil production and transportation equipment is massive in size, extent, and cost, and virtually impossible to protect short of calling out the army. But why is oil production being threatened in the first place?
This is a plot that Tom Clancy could totally have run with. Of course, he'd have added three or four subplots, twenty characters, and 1200 pages, but that's just his style. It's got a global impact that MacLean rarely found necessary for his earlier stories. Personally, I prefer the smaller-scale stories, becaue I prefer smaller-scale action and consequences. Just as I don't like galactic-fleet-battle science fiction; I like ray-guns or swords on distant planets. Ahem. I digress.
Athabasca largely fails to capitalize on the global nature of the threat, partially because it's written in third person, objective voice. MacLean used third person quite a bit, but I cannot recall any other novel quite so dry and lacking in atmosphere as this. Either MacLean was really off his form or he did it deliberately, because, to use computer terminology, his default setting is for Major Atmosphere. Just off the top of my head I can describe the tones of a bunch of them: HMS Ulysses is tragic, The Guns of Navarone is grim, South by Java Head is desperate, The Secret Ways is gentle and brutal, Fear Is the Key is grieving, The Satan Bug is full of cold fear. Athabasca is... nothing. And it's a really strange thing, because there's a good bit of potential there.
Perhaps the narrative ends up too objective because it does not have a clear protagonist. Jim Brady and his two associates, Dermott and Mackenzie, are as close as it gets. With the exception of a certain adventure of Dermott's - not coincidentally the most, and truly, thrilling part of the book - the narrative does not follow any of the three closely. Not only that, but the reader has no idea of what anyone is thinking. We're given words, actions, and a little description, but virtually no thoughts. Dialogue, however, is there in plenty. I like dialogue; especially MacLean's, which is usually full of interest, whether witty or laugh-out-loud humorous or strong or logical or even tender. That's all still here in Athabasca. But these characters are saying stuff in about half again as many words as they should. There's a lot of good parts, and I can't say any of it is dull; but there's simply too much dialogue for what is really said.
In this respect, Athabasca makes the opposite mistake from his earlier, third-person omnisicent novel The Way to Dusty Death. That novel relies far too much upon narrative exposition, telling the reader what is going on instead of showing it. There's a fair amount of internal dialogue, while spoken dialogue is sadly neglected. All three aspects are the reverse of Athabasca. The Way to Dusty Death at least has an atmosphere, and a far greater understanding of characters' motivations. But ultimately, both have too many words with too little to say, although one is dialogue and the other narrative.
I must say that while MacLean was always lavish with words (only Leslie Charteris exceeds him, and that's for effect), he rarely had too little to say with them. I am truly in awe of some earlier novels, which use words to convey so much intensity and pathos and meaning. If I were to compare... MacLean was a Tolkien, and not a Hemingway. He must have loved words. Not just the simple, common ones, but the ones with history and depth, with sound and meaning and connotation. And he used them; used them, and lost them, as his skill left or he stopped trying. Athabasca is one of his longer novels, and while it could've used a lot more action, what was there could've also used more explaining and a lot more atmosphere. I read these later books and try to analyze them; but it's sad to compare to what he had been capable of, and wonder.
It's possible that MacLean was also experimenting with his style. Brady himself is an atypical MacLean protagonist, in key ways that could easily throw off a struggling author. Most protagonists, while they have all manner of backgrounds, occupations, and personalities, are from about 25-45 year old, are fit and capable, and have nasty suspicious minds. Brady has the nasty suspicious mind, but there the resemblance ends; he is over 50, short, round, and never displays much physical ability. (I had to hold out on this judgment to the very end; MacLean, being a nasty tricksy author, would've been perfectly capable of creating a short, round jujitsu expert.) I get the idea that MacLean just never got comfortable enough with Brady to really use him. Instead, the plot meanders to its climax without much of a central character. And for the one bit of true thrill, he went to the largely-undescribed but definitely capable Dermott.
Brady's other characteristic is that he's a humorous, cheerful, and constant drinker. I know that alcoholism was largely responsible for the drop in quality of MacLean's writing. I haven't the heart to study it more, but it's quite possible he created such a likeable, sharp-thinking character as a defense or self-justification. Even while I was immersed in the story, totally not thinking about alcoholism, Brady didn't quite ring true in that respect. Either as himself or a kind of dangerously brainy Hoppy Uniatz. I can't say why, but he just isn't. *sigh*
I can also go back to my most common complaint of later Macleans: Too little action! Brady, Dermott, and Mackenzie do quite a bit of traveling as things happen, mostly back and forth from Prudhoe Bay and Athabasca. And things do happen; but off the pages. Things are sabotaged, people disappear, other people die - but our heroes only hear about it, and later investigate the scene. This is not the action-adventure novel that MacLean usually wrote. Dermott's adventure feels odd in context, because it's such a departure from the rest of the book; but it would fit in just fine with most of the previous novels. And I'd keep Athabasca just for the sake of that part, because it's pretty darned good.
Athabasca has the unfortunate distinction of including several cuss words that heretofore MacLean hasn't used. I even counted 'em: three. Not the "regular" swearing, the stuff I skim over, but others. Yes, three truly objectionable words in nearly 200 pages is very little to sneeze at. It's rather a saddening departure, though. I still don't think that was a trend that kept up.
Something else that Athabasca fails to capitalize on is its bone-chilling setting. Like HMS Ulysses, Night Without End, Ice Station Zebra, and Bear Island, it is set in the frozen North. However, very little of the narrative actually takes place out of doors (Dermott's adventure does), and when it does, it's again lacking in the starkly riveting words that show you just what it means to be there. Even The Secret Ways, Where Eagles Dare, and Force 10 from Navarone vividly illustrate the meaning of cold, for although they include Arctic conditions, they do not actually take place anywhere near the Arctic Circle. MacLean does give details of how cold it is - like how few days it would take for non-moving oil to block the Alaksa Pipeline permanently, or how quickly a man will die in the cold and his body freeze - but somehow they mean very little to the story and don't affect the atmosphere.
I really kind of pulled this poor novel apart, didn't I? Honestly, it is not a bad book! I'm not crazy about it, but the biggest reasons are very personal: (1) there's not enough action, and (2) it's not superlative writing and plotting like the earlier MacLeans. Someone who's not so addicted to excitement and hasn't been immersed in vintage MacLean would appreciate Athabasca very much. MacLean does an excellent job of providing pertinent information on extracting oil and the implications of sabotage threats. The plot, both in general and specifically of the Bad Guys, is no pushover. It will keep you guessing. And although the characters could all be better-developed, they're interesting and individual. Some of the verbal sparring between Brady's team and the oil company personnel is quite entertaining. It's not without its bit of romance, either.
Sometimes a quote will really stand out; sometimes I just have to pick something. This doesn't necessarily have to do with the quality of the book. Athabasca falls into the second category.
Dermott and Mackenzie are talking to Finlayson, field operations manager at Prudhoe Bay. Finlayson is speaking.
Athabasca was published in 1980. Particularly apropos for today, it concerns the oil industry. Most of you don't remember the oil crisis of the 1970s, but it was a pretty big thing from what I've heard. *g* Athabasca takes place in far North America on two oil mining sites: Prudhoe Bay, the Arctic Sea terminus of the Alaska Pipeline, and the Athabasca tar sands, north of Edmonton, Alberta.
When both sites receive threats of sabotage, Jim Brady and his partners in oil-production security are in the thick it, trying to protect the sites and stop the damage, but ultimately to find the culprits. It's a tricky situation because oil production and transportation equipment is massive in size, extent, and cost, and virtually impossible to protect short of calling out the army. But why is oil production being threatened in the first place?
This is a plot that Tom Clancy could totally have run with. Of course, he'd have added three or four subplots, twenty characters, and 1200 pages, but that's just his style. It's got a global impact that MacLean rarely found necessary for his earlier stories. Personally, I prefer the smaller-scale stories, becaue I prefer smaller-scale action and consequences. Just as I don't like galactic-fleet-battle science fiction; I like ray-guns or swords on distant planets. Ahem. I digress.
Athabasca largely fails to capitalize on the global nature of the threat, partially because it's written in third person, objective voice. MacLean used third person quite a bit, but I cannot recall any other novel quite so dry and lacking in atmosphere as this. Either MacLean was really off his form or he did it deliberately, because, to use computer terminology, his default setting is for Major Atmosphere. Just off the top of my head I can describe the tones of a bunch of them: HMS Ulysses is tragic, The Guns of Navarone is grim, South by Java Head is desperate, The Secret Ways is gentle and brutal, Fear Is the Key is grieving, The Satan Bug is full of cold fear. Athabasca is... nothing. And it's a really strange thing, because there's a good bit of potential there.
Perhaps the narrative ends up too objective because it does not have a clear protagonist. Jim Brady and his two associates, Dermott and Mackenzie, are as close as it gets. With the exception of a certain adventure of Dermott's - not coincidentally the most, and truly, thrilling part of the book - the narrative does not follow any of the three closely. Not only that, but the reader has no idea of what anyone is thinking. We're given words, actions, and a little description, but virtually no thoughts. Dialogue, however, is there in plenty. I like dialogue; especially MacLean's, which is usually full of interest, whether witty or laugh-out-loud humorous or strong or logical or even tender. That's all still here in Athabasca. But these characters are saying stuff in about half again as many words as they should. There's a lot of good parts, and I can't say any of it is dull; but there's simply too much dialogue for what is really said.
In this respect, Athabasca makes the opposite mistake from his earlier, third-person omnisicent novel The Way to Dusty Death. That novel relies far too much upon narrative exposition, telling the reader what is going on instead of showing it. There's a fair amount of internal dialogue, while spoken dialogue is sadly neglected. All three aspects are the reverse of Athabasca. The Way to Dusty Death at least has an atmosphere, and a far greater understanding of characters' motivations. But ultimately, both have too many words with too little to say, although one is dialogue and the other narrative.
I must say that while MacLean was always lavish with words (only Leslie Charteris exceeds him, and that's for effect), he rarely had too little to say with them. I am truly in awe of some earlier novels, which use words to convey so much intensity and pathos and meaning. If I were to compare... MacLean was a Tolkien, and not a Hemingway. He must have loved words. Not just the simple, common ones, but the ones with history and depth, with sound and meaning and connotation. And he used them; used them, and lost them, as his skill left or he stopped trying. Athabasca is one of his longer novels, and while it could've used a lot more action, what was there could've also used more explaining and a lot more atmosphere. I read these later books and try to analyze them; but it's sad to compare to what he had been capable of, and wonder.
It's possible that MacLean was also experimenting with his style. Brady himself is an atypical MacLean protagonist, in key ways that could easily throw off a struggling author. Most protagonists, while they have all manner of backgrounds, occupations, and personalities, are from about 25-45 year old, are fit and capable, and have nasty suspicious minds. Brady has the nasty suspicious mind, but there the resemblance ends; he is over 50, short, round, and never displays much physical ability. (I had to hold out on this judgment to the very end; MacLean, being a nasty tricksy author, would've been perfectly capable of creating a short, round jujitsu expert.) I get the idea that MacLean just never got comfortable enough with Brady to really use him. Instead, the plot meanders to its climax without much of a central character. And for the one bit of true thrill, he went to the largely-undescribed but definitely capable Dermott.
Brady's other characteristic is that he's a humorous, cheerful, and constant drinker. I know that alcoholism was largely responsible for the drop in quality of MacLean's writing. I haven't the heart to study it more, but it's quite possible he created such a likeable, sharp-thinking character as a defense or self-justification. Even while I was immersed in the story, totally not thinking about alcoholism, Brady didn't quite ring true in that respect. Either as himself or a kind of dangerously brainy Hoppy Uniatz. I can't say why, but he just isn't. *sigh*
I can also go back to my most common complaint of later Macleans: Too little action! Brady, Dermott, and Mackenzie do quite a bit of traveling as things happen, mostly back and forth from Prudhoe Bay and Athabasca. And things do happen; but off the pages. Things are sabotaged, people disappear, other people die - but our heroes only hear about it, and later investigate the scene. This is not the action-adventure novel that MacLean usually wrote. Dermott's adventure feels odd in context, because it's such a departure from the rest of the book; but it would fit in just fine with most of the previous novels. And I'd keep Athabasca just for the sake of that part, because it's pretty darned good.
Athabasca has the unfortunate distinction of including several cuss words that heretofore MacLean hasn't used. I even counted 'em: three. Not the "regular" swearing, the stuff I skim over, but others. Yes, three truly objectionable words in nearly 200 pages is very little to sneeze at. It's rather a saddening departure, though. I still don't think that was a trend that kept up.
Something else that Athabasca fails to capitalize on is its bone-chilling setting. Like HMS Ulysses, Night Without End, Ice Station Zebra, and Bear Island, it is set in the frozen North. However, very little of the narrative actually takes place out of doors (Dermott's adventure does), and when it does, it's again lacking in the starkly riveting words that show you just what it means to be there. Even The Secret Ways, Where Eagles Dare, and Force 10 from Navarone vividly illustrate the meaning of cold, for although they include Arctic conditions, they do not actually take place anywhere near the Arctic Circle. MacLean does give details of how cold it is - like how few days it would take for non-moving oil to block the Alaksa Pipeline permanently, or how quickly a man will die in the cold and his body freeze - but somehow they mean very little to the story and don't affect the atmosphere.
I really kind of pulled this poor novel apart, didn't I? Honestly, it is not a bad book! I'm not crazy about it, but the biggest reasons are very personal: (1) there's not enough action, and (2) it's not superlative writing and plotting like the earlier MacLeans. Someone who's not so addicted to excitement and hasn't been immersed in vintage MacLean would appreciate Athabasca very much. MacLean does an excellent job of providing pertinent information on extracting oil and the implications of sabotage threats. The plot, both in general and specifically of the Bad Guys, is no pushover. It will keep you guessing. And although the characters could all be better-developed, they're interesting and individual. Some of the verbal sparring between Brady's team and the oil company personnel is quite entertaining. It's not without its bit of romance, either.
Sometimes a quote will really stand out; sometimes I just have to pick something. This doesn't necessarily have to do with the quality of the book. Athabasca falls into the second category.
Dermott and Mackenzie are talking to Finlayson, field operations manager at Prudhoe Bay. Finlayson is speaking.
"Though frankly, I never heard of your organization until a couple of days ago.
"Think of us as desert roses," Mackenzie said. "Born to blush and bloom unseen. I think I've got that wrong, but the desert bit is appropriate enough. That's where we seem to spend most of our time." He nodded toward the window. "A desert doesn't have to be made of sand. I suppose this qualifies as an Arctic desert."
"I think of it that way myself. But what do you do in those deserts? Your function, I mean."
"Our function?" Dermott considered. "Oddly enough, I'd say our function is to reduce our worthy employer, Jim Brady, to a state of bankruptcy."
"Jim Brady? I thought his initial was A."
"His mother was English. She christened him Algernon. Wouldn't you object? He's always known as Jim."
[Later in the conversation. Dermott is explaining the causes of oil fires.]
"And don't forget the pyromaniac who sees in oil a ludicrously easy target and the source of lovely flames. In short, there's room for practically everything, and the more bizarre and unimaginable, the more likely to happen. A case in point."
He nodded at Mackenzie. "Donald and I have just return from the [Persian] Gulf. The local security men and the police were baffled by an outbreak of small fires--small, so-called, but with damage totaling two million dollars. Clearly the work of an arsonist. We tracked him down, apprehended him, and punished him. We gave him a bow and arrow."
Finlayson looked at them as if their scotch had taken hold too quickly.
"Eleven-year-old son of the British consul. He had a powerful Webley air pistol. Webley makes the traditional ammunition for this--hollow, concave lead pellets. They do not make pellets of hardened steel, which give off a splendid spark when they strike ferrous metal. This lad had a plentiful supply obtained from a local Arab boy who had a similar pistol and used those illegal pellets for hunting desert vermin. Incidentally, the Arab boy's old man, a prince of the blood royal, owned the oil field in question. The English boy's arrows have rubber tips."
"I'm sure there's a moral in there somewhere."
"Sure, there's a lesson: The unpredictable is always with you."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 08:33 pm (UTC)Anyway, what I remember of it reminds me quite strongly of the elements you so covet in your MacLean books: tense, shadowy international situations and big, blowy-uppy action. :Þ The plot concerns a lot of aging British mercenaries sent on a mission to rescue an African political leader from a dictator. Roger Moore (*gag*) was the only guy I remembered in the cast, but looking at the IMDb, I also recognize Stewart Granger and the Richards Burton and Harris.
Mind you, I only know about the daring-escape latter part of the movie. I have no idea what goes on earlier. The only woman I see in the cast is at the bottom of the list, though! I assume its R rating is only for violence (which nonetheless did do me no mental scarring at age eight, apparently).
Just something it occurred to me you might find interesting. Of course, for all I know, you've seen it *and* read the novel it's based on.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-07 03:37 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoy reading them. May I ask what thoughts they've been "fodder" for? 'Cause I adore rabbit trails, especially when they start with a MacLean. :D
no subject
Date: 2008-04-07 03:42 pm (UTC)Aha - Stewart Granger from The Prisoner of Zenda! And I saw Richard Harris in those first couple movies you hate, but don't remember him. Richard Burton, on the other hand... well, he's okay in his mid- to later movies (Where Eagles Dare being the big one), but I really liked him in his earlier movies like Desert Rats and The Robe. Who know, though.
It's definitely encouraging for the woman to be way low down. *g*
There's a novel? Hehehe...