A classic SF from 1954.

Obviously it must be read as a product of its time and I think it's pretty good for all that, but while I DO enjoy the whole conflict of Passive vs Active Martians living among us, trying to decide whether they are just observers or want to actively destroy us, it's very much a Hawk Vs Dove kind of story.

It's not bad but I did get a bit annoyed with the endless exposition-in-dialogue that was rather common for the day.

It IS, however, still a step up from the endless hokey perceived-pulp SF that was common for the time. Put it vaguely on par with early-early Philip K Dick without the paranoia. :)

I wouldn't seriously recommend this for modern readers unless you like to read things in context. America was on an expansionist footing, having fully realized their power after the end of WWII. The commentary is pretty spot-on. ( )

Pangborn, Edgar. A Mirror for Observers. 1954. Afterword by Peter S. Beagle. Bluejay, 1983.
Years before Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman collaborated on Good Omens, Edgar Pangborn, an almost forgotten master of fantasy and science fiction, gave the idea a more serious treatment. In A Mirror for Observers, two Martians meddle in human affairs, one intending benevolence and one hoping to hasten the collapse of civilization. In a small New England town, they observe a young boy who they suspect will have special qualities. The story is character-driven in the extreme, to the extent that some reviewers argue that the science fictional elements of the novel are unnecessary. Perhaps, but the ethical message at the heart of the novel goes down easier if it is enunciated by a caring Martian than it would be by a human character or an angel. Is the novel a creature of its time? Sure. Is it slow at times? Yup. Is it still worth a read? Definitely. ( )

Heartbreakingly beautiful story of a Martian "Observer" trying to nurture and protect the lives of a gifted boy and girl (later a young man and woman), in conflict with another Martian who desires to corrupt and destroy them. The Martian framework is a platform for a lot of ruminating about the nature of humanity, and good vs. evil. The characters are beautifully drawn and developed, and the dialogue is pitch perfect. The lead character, The Observer, becomes a person so real (actually, persons so real), and his caring about the boy and girl so genuine and powerful, that it reflects back onto him, and makes him unforgettable. This attention to detail is characteristic of Pangborn, as is the abiding love of humankind that pervades all of his best work. It took me a chapter or two before the Martian framework fell away, and I became the Observer of these characters. The ending, which is both tragic and uplifting, moved me to tears. This is just a stunning piece of SF, as good as anything I've ever read in the genre. It's the first thing of his I've read--aside from a handful of short stories--that isn't part of his post-apocalyptic Tales of a Darkening World books--these include the novels "Davy," "In the Company of Glory," "The Judgement of Eve," and the story collection "Still I Persist In Wondering." I recommend all of them most highly. For me, he's become one of those writers you wonder how you ever did without. ( )

This is set in the near future of its own time (that is, in the the presidency of the successor of Eisenhower, who was actuall president when it ws written) but it assumes that thousands of years ago the people of Mars had abandoned their dying planet and moved to Earth, where most of then have been patiently watching (they are the "Observers") to see when the humans will develop a sufficienly stable peacefil society to merge with. (These Martians are humanoid, though with 4 fingers and toes, orange blood and a scent that disturbs horses. They have adapted human facial features and artificial fifth fingers.) A minority of them, the "Abdicators" have renounced observer status and are hoping to manipulate the humans into destroying enugh of themselves that the rest can be dominated. An abdicator visits an observer official and mentions an interest in a clever young boy named Angelo, and an observer is dispatched to keep an eye on him. The rest of the book is that observer's report. ( )

Oh my.

Multi-faceted. Not sure what that usually means. But what I mean by that here is that a reader is shown many different views of this story and its elements, depending on how s/he reads it. Some facets are almost blindingly brilliant - for example, the simplicity of the premise, the reason why this is set up as SF rather than a simpler 'coming-of-age by boy genius in a scary world' story. Some facets sparkle, that is to say, wittily - there's even a bit of gentle humor here. Some glow with opalescence - insights into the human condition that give this jaded, cynical reader hope for the future of the race. And some glare, piercingly.

Not for everyone. The reader has to have read widely, lived fully, and thought deeply. It's not enough, for example, to Google to learn what is a bo tree -- one has to have seen the reference other places, thought about its relevance in different situations, and then actually notice the brief allusion here. And that's just one, almost trivial, example.

A few years ago I would not have appreciated it. I don't fully now, I'm sure, as I'm not nearly sophisticated enough to catch all the allusions & connections. I definitely need to think more about the significance of the title and the object referenced - the mirror doesn't seem to have a large part in the story, but of course it does; it's just that I don't understand it.

Meanwhile, I loved what I did understand. I loved the premise of the very long-lived Martians and their unique perspective on our short & busy lives. Yes it's been done, but never ime quite so sensitively.

I loved how it was decided to offer schooling to a prodigy, despite the likelihood that she'd not be able to make a career of her passion: The worst cruelty would be to protect her from the pain of struggling."

Great lines all over the place. "[T]he comic hurry of a second hand...."

The theme of good and evil is set out very clearly in a couple of places. Didactic? Sure. But still, beautifully written and thoughtful, very easy to read w/out feeling preached at:

"Men trick themselves with the illusion that good and evil are neat opposites: one of the mental short-cuts that turn out to be dead-end traps. Good is a far wider and more inclusive aspect of life.... Yet good is the drink, evil only a poison that is sometimes in the dregs.... Recognizing many partial ambivalences between birth and death, we overlook their partial quality and are fooled into supposing that ambivalence is exact and omnipresent...."

Pangborn thinks so clearly about everything. He doesn't build on tropes - any in here are actually fully re-invented motifs, rather than cliches. For example, the scary apocalypse isn't really so, of course. "The flu of 1918 killed more than the First World War, but statistically it hardly made a dent in the human race... I really do believe there's time for coffee before the end of the world."

I also really liked the bits about music. I need to sit down with his words and listen to the classical pieces he talked about, to see if I can hear something of what he does. Of course, he's a trained musician and I know almost nothing, but gosh, I do love learning, when the lesson is so lovingly presented.

And now that I've been up almost half the night finishing this book, and another half hour writing this review while I had my feelings & thoughts about it making so much noise in my head, I'm off to lie down again and try to sleep.
" ( )

The classic fairy story involves the protagonist leaving his home, journeying to the fairy realm where he encounters strange denizens, overcomes an obstacle, learns something about himself, grows a little, and then returns home. In many ways Edgar Pangborn's A Mirror for Observers, the 1955 winner of the International Fantasy Award for Best Fiction Book, follows this fairy story formula, but the exotic and dangerous fairy realm that the protagonist goes to is our world, the obstacle he must overcome is one of his own kind, and the strange denizens that help him learn about himself are us. Elmis, the central character of the book, does not intend to change himself, instead intending merely to observe, but he discovers the fundamental truth that the mere act of observation irrevocably changes both those that are observed, and more radically, those who do the observing.

In A Mirror for Observers Earth has been invaded by Martians who were fleeing their dying planet. It was something of a gentle invasion: No humans noticed it happen when it took place thirty thousand years ago. Now the Martians live sequestered in their hidden cities around the world bound by their strong sense of ethics to avoid interfering in humanity's affairs until humanity evolves its own sufficiently advanced ethical framework that would permit the Martians to reveal themselves and live openly among the Earthlings. Or at least most of Martians adhere to this view, and form a faction called the "Observers". A small handful of Martians called the "Abdicators" reject this, believing that humanity has proven itself to be irredeemably savage, and seek to tip the balance of human ethics in such a way that humanity destroys itself, clearing the way for the Martians to assume ownership of the planet.

The story of the book involved Elmis, an Observer, and Namir, an Abdicator, and their shared but competing interest in the development of a single twelve year boy named Angelo Pontevecchio who lives in the small and somewhat sleepy town of Latimer, Massachusetts. The two Martians focus their attentions on this boy because they believe that he has the correct intellectual capability and inclination to develop the kind of ethical system that the hidden invaders have been hoping for through the centuries. The problem is that while Elmis yearns for such a development to come to fruition, Namir wants to derail Angelo's education and set the stage for humanity to commit racial suicide. In the story, Angelo quickly demonstrates his precocious nature, already immersing himself in the writings of Socrates and Plato, but also displays the carelessness of youth, as he flirts with becoming involved with a gang of local ruffians in order to prove his manliness. And it is in this struggle, between the path of learning and accomplishment, and the path of macho posturing, that Elmis and Namir enter Angelo's life and begin trying to pull him one way or the other. Or rather, that Namir enters Angelo's life and attempts to set him on the road to juvenile delinquency while Elmis, for the most part, is constrained by his ethical beliefs to merely observe.

And this is the first point at which the real point of the book comes into play. The book is not actually about the conflict between Elmis and Namir, or about the development of a superior ethical system, or about Angelo. It is about how Elmir is changed by his contact with humanity, and how, perhaps, the allegedly advanced ethical system of the Martians may in fact be somewhat wanting. Because by doing nothing other than observing, Elmis leaves Angelo to be preyed upon by Namir. By refusing to take a side in this conflict, Elmis actually is taking a side and conceding Angelo's future to his ideological opponent. Noninterference in the cultural development of others is usually seen as a virtue, but in his slow, almost dream-like way, Pangborn quietly calls that belief into question, and poses a severe dilemma for Elmis, even though Elmis himself is mostly oblivious to the danger Namir truly poses. Ultimately, the denouement of this portion of the story is sad, tragic, and devastating, as Namir proves to be even more wily and ruthless in pursuit of his goals than Elmis could imagine.

Intertwined with the story of Angelo coming to grips with being a precocious yet somewhat undersized and fatherless boy while being led astray by an inimical agent, is the story of Angelo's relationship with Sharon, a young girl his age, and both of their relationship with music. Pangborn himself had been something of a musical prodigy in his youth, and for unexplained reasons gave up his musical career to the extent that people who knew him later in life didn't even know he could play an instrument. But in A Mirror for Observers, the artistry of music takes center stage. One human achievement that Elmis and most other Martians admire is music - Elmis himself plays the piano, although he is hampered somewhat by the fact that his alien hands had to be surgically altered to sport five fingers. For Angelo's part, he is also described as being a quite capable musician, but the true musical talent is Sharon, who Elmis immediately identifies as being prodigiously gifted.

And by focusing on music, Pangborn suggests that what makes a society "advanced" may not have anything to do with technology, but rather the art they produce, whether they appreciate the art, how they treat the artists, and ultimately how they treat each other. While Elmis is overwhelmed by the beauty of Sharon's musical gift, Namir pays them no mind at all. And even though Elmis is mostly content to sit on the sidelines and watch Angelo founder on his own with nothing more than a handful of conversations, the Martian is so moved by Sharon's music that he makes arrangements for her to receive proper instruction in her art. Art, it seems, is what makes a society worth having, but at the same time, it lifts us up to make us worth saving. Namir, whose life is entirely lacking in art, has become bitter and cruel as a result; a pattern that is repeated more than once in the book, as those who lack an appreciation for art end up full of hatred and self-loathing.

After documenting Namir's manipulation derail Angelo's life, the story leaps forward by about a decade and moves to New York. Elmis comes to the city because he believes that he will find Angelo there after searching for the boy for years. First, however, he runs across Sharon, who has matured into an accomplished concert pianist who performs in front of large and appreciative audiences. But her music is the one bright note in a dreary and desolate world. The Russians and the Chinese are at war. The Organic Unity Party, which is headquartered in New York, preaches a vicious form of exclusionary nationalism and is only opposed by the tepid Federalist Party. Elmis believes, based upon the scanty evidence of seeing a former youth gang member from Latimer in a photograph with the leader of the organic Unity Party, that Angelo has gotten himself involved in some way with this repugnant organization. This supposition turns out to be correct to a certain extent, and Elmis sets about subtly trying to convince Angelo to disentangle himself from his circumstances. Angelo, now calling himself Abe Brown, feels obligated to the disguised Namir and his prot&eactue;gés for the "help" they have given him - help that seems to have mostly been aimed as ensnaring Angelo into their sphere of influence and diverting his interests away from ethics.

Even though Angelo is the focus of Elmis' efforts, Angelo himself, and even his hoped for development of a superior ethical system, is merely a vehicle to tell the story of Elmis' own journey. As Elmis sheds his Martian ethic of noninterference and becomes more involved in persuading Angelo to take particular actions and pushing Angelo and Sharon together, he becomes less of an observer and more of a participant. Eventually the world enters into a crisis when , despite not actually intending to, the Organic Unity Party unleashes a worldwide epidemic of proportions akin to the 1918 influenza pandemic (which Pangborn himself would have lived through when he was a similar age to Angelo in the first portion of the book). Faced with this human catastrophe, Elmis discards any pretense of merely being an observer and becomes an active participant in events, working in a hospital to provide aid and comfort to the sick and dying. Symbolically, Sharon is struck down by the epidemic and loses her hearing, and in the chaos, Angelo finally does break from Namir's influence.

But all of this is a sideshow. The real story is in Elmis' own transformation. By observing, he is changed. Even though he starts the book with what he believes to be his own superior Martian ethic, the events of the book play out in such a manner that his assumptions are called into question. Through observing, Elmis is changed as much as he changes the characters by his own actions, even if he didn't necessarily realize that he was changing those he came into contact with. In many ways, A Mirror for Observers is about unintended consequences, both those unintended consequences that inure to those the instigator and those unintended consequences that redound back upon the original actor. Elmis intends only to observe Angelo, but by his very presence he alters the course of events, affecting not only the lives of Angelo and Sharon, but also his own.

In the end Angelo ends up living in a small town living a small town life with Sharon. Whether or not Angelo ever actually develops the humane ethic that the Martians desperately yearn for him to create is not a question that is ever answered in the book, and is a question that is more or less beside the point. The discovery in the book is that the Martian vigil may have been an exercise in vanity rather than a display of ethical forbearance. And while much of the novel seems to have a dream-like quality, at the end, it feels like Elmis, and possibly the entire Martian race, may be emerging from a self-imposed sleep to become ready to join or ultimately completely eschew the world they have secluded themselves from for so long. Overall, Pangborn's novel about how even our most innocuous actions change the world and ourselves is a fascinating read, and one that should be on every science fiction fan's reading list.

This review has also been posted to my blog Dreaming About Other Worlds. ( )

http://nhw.livejournal.com/475867.html

First published in 1954, set in 1963 and 1972, so as usual we can be slightly amused about predictions made about the future which is now the past. But actually this is a rather gripping book. There is a small group of Secret Guardians keeping watch over humanity's scientific and moral development (they happen to be from Mars but that is almost incidental). There is a renegade faction that wants to wipe out (most of) humanity to make Earth their own. For reasons not made completely clear, the conflict between the two focuses on a teenager in 1963 small-town Masachusetts and his piano-paying neighbour. There is a dramatic denouement halfway through the book, and we leap forward nine years, to the final struggle between the two in New York, against the background of unpleasant extremist US politics and biological warfare.

Yet the fundamental take of the book is very optimistic about human nature, and the message is a very moral one; not all fans are Slans. It almost reads like a 1950s reaction against today's libertarianism - perhaps I'm just not well enough read in the sf of the period - was this the height of van Vogt and Heinlein? I thought one peaked earlier and the other later. Interesting stuff, anyway. ( )

http://www.amazon.com/review/R1C... ( )

SF