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The Child Garden
In a semi-tropical London, surrounded by paddy-fields, the people feed off the sun, like plants, the young are raised in Child Gardens and educated by viruses, And the Consensus oversees the country, 'treating' non-conformism. Information, culture, law and politics are biological functions. But Milena is different: she is resistant to viruses and an incredible musician, one of the most extraordinary women of her age. This is her story and that of her friends, like Lucy the immortal tumour and Joseph the Postman whose mind is an information storehouse for others, and Rolfa, genetically engineered as a Polar Bear, whose beautiful singing voice first awakens Milena to the power of music.
400 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 1989
About the author
Geoff Ryman
94 books199 followersGeoffrey Charles Ryman (born 1951) is a writer of science fiction, fantasy and slipstream fiction. He was born in Canada, and has lived most of his life in England.
His science fiction and fantasy works include The Warrior Who Carried Life (1985), the novella The Unconquered Country (1986) (winner of the British Science Fiction Award and the World Fantasy Award), and The Child Garden (1989) (winner of the Arthur C. Clarke Award and the Campbell Award). Subsequent fiction works include Was (1992), Lust (2001), and Air (2005) (winner of the James Tiptree, Jr. Award, the British Science Fiction Award and the Arthur C. Clarke Award, and on the short list for the Nebula Award).
His science fiction and fantasy works include The Warrior Who Carried Life (1985), the novella The Unconquered Country (1986) (winner of the British Science Fiction Award and the World Fantasy Award), and The Child Garden (1989) (winner of the Arthur C. Clarke Award and the Campbell Award). Subsequent fiction works include Was (1992), Lust (2001), and Air (2005) (winner of the James Tiptree, Jr. Award, the British Science Fiction Award and the Arthur C. Clarke Award, and on the short list for the Nebula Award).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 159 reviews
December 4, 2020
SF Masterworks (2010 relaunch series - reprint) #number unknown!:
A post climate change event sub-tropical London is the setting for this 'she doesn't fit in with the status quo' story of Milena, who's biochemistry, sexual preferences and creativity don't fit into the almost artificially created norms of the day. But... although published in 1989, this tale left me completely cold, with insufficient reality building, weak character development and awful story telling / narration. Although an award winning boom, this is easily the weakest SF Masterworks I've read to date - 1 out of 12. a 36 day reading struggle to finish, as I don't want to DNF any book in this series.
A post climate change event sub-tropical London is the setting for this 'she doesn't fit in with the status quo' story of Milena, who's biochemistry, sexual preferences and creativity don't fit into the almost artificially created norms of the day. But... although published in 1989, this tale left me completely cold, with insufficient reality building, weak character development and awful story telling / narration. Although an award winning boom, this is easily the weakest SF Masterworks I've read to date - 1 out of 12. a 36 day reading struggle to finish, as I don't want to DNF any book in this series.
August 27, 2010
That rare combination of great writing and truly imaginative worldbuilding, and yet... The Child Garden takes place at some unspecified point in the future, when the Earth has warmed to the point that London has become a subtropical area protected from the sea by a human-made Barrier Reef, and 100 years after a worldwide communist revolution (and also the failure of electricity) has ushered in a new era of Foucauldian discipline, as we are repeatedly told that this is a population so conditioned not to break the law that a police force is no longer necessary. Did I mention that everyone has been flooded with viruses that inform their knowledge and actions, and make them purple so they photosynthesize, and other people have been genetically engineered into "Polar Bears" who live in the Antarctic to mine the world's last iron? I was never sure how seriously I was supposed to take this book, but I have a sinking feeling that the answer is "very seriously."
So we have this great evocative writing in this (mostly, if somewhat ridiculous) great world, and the plot is that... the main character is a Unique Individual, and she wants to, well... stage an opera? Based on Dante's Comedy. In space. Furthermore everyone else wants her to do this too, so the only real conflict is when she fires her lighting person and the latter goes insane and tries to kill her or drive her to suicide or commit suicide herself, because she wants to be a part of this opera. I know, it sounds like a joke.
Further, this is all put to use in order to beat the reader over the head repeatedly with the message that socialism is like, a terrible virus of laziness that crushes the creative spirit, and that it's up to those few gifted Creative Individuals to teach everyone else the error of their ways, which is a really important and meaningful message that we all need to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
So we have this great evocative writing in this (mostly, if somewhat ridiculous) great world, and the plot is that... the main character is a Unique Individual, and she wants to, well... stage an opera? Based on Dante's Comedy. In space. Furthermore everyone else wants her to do this too, so the only real conflict is when she fires her lighting person and the latter goes insane and tries to kill her or drive her to suicide or commit suicide herself, because she wants to be a part of this opera. I know, it sounds like a joke.
Further, this is all put to use in order to beat the reader over the head repeatedly with the message that socialism is like, a terrible virus of laziness that crushes the creative spirit, and that it's up to those few gifted Creative Individuals to teach everyone else the error of their ways, which is a really important and meaningful message that we all need to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
April 20, 2010
I guess this review contains spoilers but I honestly don't have a clue what the fuck happened in this book, so it'd be difficult for me to actually spoil you. Plus, the only person who's going to read this is Martha, so.
Since I moved to Boston six years ago, I have only ever read books when I am on public transportation. If I pick up a book to keep reading it when I'm at home, I feel guilty and force myself to stop. Because what if I finish the book tonight and then tomorrow morning I am confronted with the horrible nightmare of having nothing to read on the train? THAT WOULD BE THE WORST THING EVER. This mostly works out okay, because at home I watch television and fuck around on the internet and unload the dishwasher and torment the cats. HOWEVER, there are some books that just cannot be fully appreciated when you read them in fits and starts while sandwich-packed on the Orange Line. At one point, the narrative of The Child Garden goes non-linear. It actually took me a couple chapters to even notice because I just assumed the disorientation was the usual "Is this where I left off when I was getting off the train this morning? I don't even know."
The Child Garden is a book you should read in a small, empty room with blank walls and a white noise generator. I liked many parts of it, but reading it made me feel like a non-native speaker of English. Some assorted thoughts:
Days of Future Past, revisited: Hypothetical-you may recall when we discussed The Repossession Mambo, and the "days of future past" genre writing. The Child Garden is a "days of future past" novel in a couple different ways:
1) Satirical depiction of a dystopic socialist state feels VERY Soviet-era. I think the dark side of socialism is a timely concept, but viruses that indoctrinate your population with the collected works of Marx and Lenin is more 80s than side pony tails.
2) Cancer as metaphor. The book was originally published in, I think, 1989, which means the bulk of it was probably written by, say, 1987. This is unfortunate timing (particularly because Ryman is openly gay and deftly deals with queer issues in his books), because the story is, like, DYING OUT to have AIDS be the metaphor virus, particularly when you consider that viruses in this universe are a means of social control.
Fear of a Straight Planet: So the main character is a lesbian but viral social control has wiped out homosexuality in 99.9% of the population. Milena is aware that her orientation is considered a mistake, but she doesn't get caught up in misplaced self-loathing. Instead, there's a weird, wistful desperate sense that she's never going to be able to find anyone else like her. This really resonated with me in a embarrassing painful way. If I'm navel-gazing about being a lesbian, it's not because of homophobia and marginalization (these things do exist and they are terrible, but at this point in history, it is possible to live a privileged existence largely free of these factors and I do, I totally do). What I dwell on is the numbers game. Lesbians are, what, 2.5% of the population? Sometimes I think I'm going to die alone just because the odds are in my favor.
But here is what drove me absolutely insane about this book: WHY IS HOMOSEXUALITY FORBIDDEN IN THIS SOCIETY? It would make sense if it was a population control thing, but given that men are able to get pregnant, this seems unlikely. It would make sense if it was theocratic, but there's one throw-away line about the government being a theocracy with no explanation and several vague suggestions that Christianity is a religion for simpletons. So what motivates the heteronormativity? It was such a huge part of the book, it made no sense that it was never explained even in passing. Or maybe I just missed something because I was getting trampled by people exiting the train at State Street.
Songwriters Do Not Wake Up One Day and Think They Can Write Books: I cannot stand it when fiction authors write song lyrics for their stories. Like nails on a chalk board.
Since I moved to Boston six years ago, I have only ever read books when I am on public transportation. If I pick up a book to keep reading it when I'm at home, I feel guilty and force myself to stop. Because what if I finish the book tonight and then tomorrow morning I am confronted with the horrible nightmare of having nothing to read on the train? THAT WOULD BE THE WORST THING EVER. This mostly works out okay, because at home I watch television and fuck around on the internet and unload the dishwasher and torment the cats. HOWEVER, there are some books that just cannot be fully appreciated when you read them in fits and starts while sandwich-packed on the Orange Line. At one point, the narrative of The Child Garden goes non-linear. It actually took me a couple chapters to even notice because I just assumed the disorientation was the usual "Is this where I left off when I was getting off the train this morning? I don't even know."
The Child Garden is a book you should read in a small, empty room with blank walls and a white noise generator. I liked many parts of it, but reading it made me feel like a non-native speaker of English. Some assorted thoughts:
Days of Future Past, revisited: Hypothetical-you may recall when we discussed The Repossession Mambo, and the "days of future past" genre writing. The Child Garden is a "days of future past" novel in a couple different ways:
1) Satirical depiction of a dystopic socialist state feels VERY Soviet-era. I think the dark side of socialism is a timely concept, but viruses that indoctrinate your population with the collected works of Marx and Lenin is more 80s than side pony tails.
2) Cancer as metaphor. The book was originally published in, I think, 1989, which means the bulk of it was probably written by, say, 1987. This is unfortunate timing (particularly because Ryman is openly gay and deftly deals with queer issues in his books), because the story is, like, DYING OUT to have AIDS be the metaphor virus, particularly when you consider that viruses in this universe are a means of social control.
Fear of a Straight Planet: So the main character is a lesbian but viral social control has wiped out homosexuality in 99.9% of the population. Milena is aware that her orientation is considered a mistake, but she doesn't get caught up in misplaced self-loathing. Instead, there's a weird, wistful desperate sense that she's never going to be able to find anyone else like her. This really resonated with me in a embarrassing painful way. If I'm navel-gazing about being a lesbian, it's not because of homophobia and marginalization (these things do exist and they are terrible, but at this point in history, it is possible to live a privileged existence largely free of these factors and I do, I totally do). What I dwell on is the numbers game. Lesbians are, what, 2.5% of the population? Sometimes I think I'm going to die alone just because the odds are in my favor.
But here is what drove me absolutely insane about this book: WHY IS HOMOSEXUALITY FORBIDDEN IN THIS SOCIETY? It would make sense if it was a population control thing, but given that men are able to get pregnant, this seems unlikely. It would make sense if it was theocratic, but there's one throw-away line about the government being a theocracy with no explanation and several vague suggestions that Christianity is a religion for simpletons. So what motivates the heteronormativity? It was such a huge part of the book, it made no sense that it was never explained even in passing. Or maybe I just missed something because I was getting trampled by people exiting the train at State Street.
Songwriters Do Not Wake Up One Day and Think They Can Write Books: I cannot stand it when fiction authors write song lyrics for their stories. Like nails on a chalk board.
September 12, 2022
What a peculiarly imagined work. With a combination of things existing together, forming a very dreamlike realm, a curiously cast society, and a whimsically advancing set of events.
Intimate, casually surreal, and mesmerizingly lyrical. One of those books which encourages you to drop most preconceived notions and just ride with it - like you would in a dream.
_____
Reading updates.
Intimate, casually surreal, and mesmerizingly lyrical. One of those books which encourages you to drop most preconceived notions and just ride with it - like you would in a dream.
_____
Reading updates.
July 30, 2007
Beyond incredible. In the world of the future, humanity has sacrificed growth and old age to the alter of knowledge. While telling a most unconventional love story Ryman finds time to play with the ideas of evolution, love, identity, madness, and whether knowledge is the acquisition of facts or something else. His main character is a woman I would love to know myself. This is a must read, regardless of whether you like sf or not.
November 25, 2012
It is the year 2075.
In the early 21st century, American biotechnologists manage to cure cancer with a simple infectious virus. Only after this virus is released in the Earth's atmosphere is it found that cancer in fact plays a vital role in extending life: Cancer cells, being immortal, secrete proteins that prevent cell death, allowing people to get old. Without cancer people die at the age of 35. The halving of human life expectancy--to say nothing of the mass death suffered by everyone unfortunate enough to be more than 35 years old--is enough to precipitate the Second Revolution.
The global epidemic of premature mortality forces human civilization to adapt as best as it can. Viruses are used extensively, not only for health reasons, but to provide a ready store of knowledge and memory through the transmission of viruses' genetic information. At birth, children are inocculated with viruses in order to bypass lengthy formal education, to try to make the most of humanity's brief tenure on Earth. Humanity's genetic makeup is also tinkered with by the new, wiser professional of biotechnology, as human subspecies capable of enduring difficult environments like the Arctic are produced, while even normal humans are genetically engineered to be able to photosynthesize sugars (via rhodopsin implanted in the human epidermis) in order to help make up for food shortages at the minor cost of an unnatural purple cast to their skins. The new world order, vaguely Maoist in tone, is Communist, thanks to China's success in leading the Second Revolution. The world is actually overseen by the Consensus, a kind of collective vegetable mind made up of democratic viral readings of peoples' thoughts and minds. Somehow, even in the middle of a greenhouse effect that has made England a bamboo-growing subtropical area, humanity has survived.
It hasn't done very well, though. Although human civilization has survived, it has done so at the cost of being impoverished. For instance, the viruses begin to mutate and become contagious, making some people communicate in song while others are forced to become excessively empathetic by their genetic reprogramming. Worse for humanity's prospects, it turns out that humans perfectly educated by viruses aren't creative; the temptation to do things by rote is so much stronger when one has been doing just that since one was a toddler. With the accumulated intellects of hundreds or thousands of millions of people, the Consensus is well aware that human civilization is stagnant, but it is at a loss to know what to do.
This is where Milena Shibush fits in. A Czechoslovak immigrant, Milena is allergic to the knowledge viruses. Treated by her pears as if she is mentally retarded, she must make her own way in the world. Nominally an actress, and frustrated by her difficult relationship with her love Rolfa, her true talents come out when she discovers that her lack of viral inoculations gives her an excellent reputation as a director of artistic holographic visions.
As one person wrote five years ago, The Child Garden manages to be "lyrical, hopeful, and spiritually profound, even in the midst of a sometimes horrific culture," To say nothing of being funny:
It's difficult for me to communicate my experience of The Child Garden, since so much of its effect is cumulative. One thing that I particularly liked in Ryman's writing was its contextualization, the rooting of his protagonist's experience in a vast universe, and the implications that Ryman draws from this character from the rooting.
For instance, The Child Garden's subtitle is "A Low Comedy." Milena gains the full support of the Consensus for her plan to stage the Divine Comedy of Dante from Earth orbit for the entire world to see. This incidentally sets the stage for new adventures, as the Consensus desperately seeks out other intelligences/civilizations like itself and Milena puts herself in the right position to truly revivify her society. Even at its grandest and most space-operatic, though, Ryman's never loses touch with Milena. He pays attention to the little things about her, carefully and honestly.
The Child Garden was the first proper science fiction book that I'd read, at the age of 10. Perhaps even now, I can't get enough critical distance from Ryman's book to properly analyze it. In the end, all that I can say is that Ryman's sensitive writing style, his meticulously detailed and plausible universes, and his profound moral sense--all helped make The Child Garden a fantastic reading experience.
In the early 21st century, American biotechnologists manage to cure cancer with a simple infectious virus. Only after this virus is released in the Earth's atmosphere is it found that cancer in fact plays a vital role in extending life: Cancer cells, being immortal, secrete proteins that prevent cell death, allowing people to get old. Without cancer people die at the age of 35. The halving of human life expectancy--to say nothing of the mass death suffered by everyone unfortunate enough to be more than 35 years old--is enough to precipitate the Second Revolution.
The global epidemic of premature mortality forces human civilization to adapt as best as it can. Viruses are used extensively, not only for health reasons, but to provide a ready store of knowledge and memory through the transmission of viruses' genetic information. At birth, children are inocculated with viruses in order to bypass lengthy formal education, to try to make the most of humanity's brief tenure on Earth. Humanity's genetic makeup is also tinkered with by the new, wiser professional of biotechnology, as human subspecies capable of enduring difficult environments like the Arctic are produced, while even normal humans are genetically engineered to be able to photosynthesize sugars (via rhodopsin implanted in the human epidermis) in order to help make up for food shortages at the minor cost of an unnatural purple cast to their skins. The new world order, vaguely Maoist in tone, is Communist, thanks to China's success in leading the Second Revolution. The world is actually overseen by the Consensus, a kind of collective vegetable mind made up of democratic viral readings of peoples' thoughts and minds. Somehow, even in the middle of a greenhouse effect that has made England a bamboo-growing subtropical area, humanity has survived.
It hasn't done very well, though. Although human civilization has survived, it has done so at the cost of being impoverished. For instance, the viruses begin to mutate and become contagious, making some people communicate in song while others are forced to become excessively empathetic by their genetic reprogramming. Worse for humanity's prospects, it turns out that humans perfectly educated by viruses aren't creative; the temptation to do things by rote is so much stronger when one has been doing just that since one was a toddler. With the accumulated intellects of hundreds or thousands of millions of people, the Consensus is well aware that human civilization is stagnant, but it is at a loss to know what to do.
"Sounds like the viruses," said Milena. "Just like the viruses. Plato would have hated the [knowledge] viruses, too."
The School Nurse laughed. "Very good, Milena, yes, yes he would have hated the viruses. As we all know, he and Aristotle founded the Axis of Materialist and Idealistic thinking, both of which the Golden Stream swept away. Plato believed in dictators. He certainly would have hated the Consensus, our democracy... Are you an idealist, then Milena? Do you think you are just a shadow on the wall of a cave? Perhaps you disagree with Plato and are a materialist" (178)
This is where Milena Shibush fits in. A Czechoslovak immigrant, Milena is allergic to the knowledge viruses. Treated by her pears as if she is mentally retarded, she must make her own way in the world. Nominally an actress, and frustrated by her difficult relationship with her love Rolfa, her true talents come out when she discovers that her lack of viral inoculations gives her an excellent reputation as a director of artistic holographic visions.
As one person wrote five years ago, The Child Garden manages to be "lyrical, hopeful, and spiritually profound, even in the midst of a sometimes horrific culture," To say nothing of being funny:
"Do you think," Rolfa asked, 'that you could possibly call me Pooh?"
The word Pooh meant something very specific and unpleasant to Milena. It certainly did not mean teddy bear.
"Why on earth would you want me to call you that?" Milena asked.
"Pooh," repeated Rolfa. "Pooh. You must have heard of Pooh. He's a bear. He's in a book?"
A GE novel? Milena had sudden visions of an entire Polar literature. 'Is it new?' she asked.
"No, no," said Rolfa and stood up. "Here." She showed Milena a drawing of Pooh.
"He's not part of the culture," said Milena, meaning there was no virus of him. She reads, thought Milena in admiration, unheard-of-books.
"You could call me Pooh. And I could call you Christopher Robin."
"Why?" said Milena warily (54).
It's difficult for me to communicate my experience of The Child Garden, since so much of its effect is cumulative. One thing that I particularly liked in Ryman's writing was its contextualization, the rooting of his protagonist's experience in a vast universe, and the implications that Ryman draws from this character from the rooting.
For instance, The Child Garden's subtitle is "A Low Comedy." Milena gains the full support of the Consensus for her plan to stage the Divine Comedy of Dante from Earth orbit for the entire world to see. This incidentally sets the stage for new adventures, as the Consensus desperately seeks out other intelligences/civilizations like itself and Milena puts herself in the right position to truly revivify her society. Even at its grandest and most space-operatic, though, Ryman's never loses touch with Milena. He pays attention to the little things about her, carefully and honestly.
Milena picked up the next book in the stack. It was huge, bound in dirty grey cloth, anonymous and slumped sideways on its over-used binding. The first page was an engraving of Dante. Divina Commedia said words printed in red. Underneath, in pencil, Rolfa had written, 'FOR AN AUDIENCE OF VIRUSES'.
All three books of the comedy -- Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso -- had been bound together in one volume. Underneath all the words, all the way through, there were musical notes [. . .] Then Dante meets the best. The words were set to the music that Rolfa had sung in the dark the first night Milena had heard her, hidden in the graveyard. Milena read The Divine Comedy bouyed up by music. (95).
The Child Garden was the first proper science fiction book that I'd read, at the age of 10. Perhaps even now, I can't get enough critical distance from Ryman's book to properly analyze it. In the end, all that I can say is that Ryman's sensitive writing style, his meticulously detailed and plausible universes, and his profound moral sense--all helped make The Child Garden a fantastic reading experience.
July 1, 2013
What really stands out in my mind is the imaginative use of biology and photosynthesis with the people. The mind and memory aspects were also fascinating for both a story vehicle and character development. I thought it was a fun read, but more importantly, it was very full of great ideas and should be read for this, if not anything else. :)
July 29, 2019
Wow, this book was interesting. Deep, rich, complicated, well-written. There's a lot in here: love, death, art, freedom. The SF elements are absolutely nutty! I haven't seen this anywhere else. And the love story broke my heart.
No idea how I'm going to review it.
No idea how I'm going to review it.
June 7, 2008
I liked this less than Air, but that might be because Air was my first encounter with Geoff Ryman. I think this suffered a bit from the fact that it was a third Ryman book in a row; one starts wondering what his thing is about floods, weird pregnancies and khatulistiwa climes ... equatorial is the word! Right. As I said, one starts wondering, which is okay if one is a literary critic, but slightly less so if one is merely a reader who wishes to be engrossed.
I am still a bit puzzled about the khatulistiwa thing. Why make London all tropical/equatorial? His description of London here is v. similar to his descriptions of Cambodia in The King's Last Song, and there's that communist/socialist political influence that I imagine prevails in Indochina as well (less so down south, I guess because of the British and all that). So why bother placing the story in London at all? Why not a SEAsian country? My current hypothesis is that he wanted the setting (though really, what is so desirable about chickens in the street; I admit to some suspicion of exoticism-chasing) but a European tradition of thought -- Wagner, Shakespeare, the classics etc. etc. I don't think that's a super good reason, though. Hmm. Still thinking about it.
I am still a bit puzzled about the khatulistiwa thing. Why make London all tropical/equatorial? His description of London here is v. similar to his descriptions of Cambodia in The King's Last Song, and there's that communist/socialist political influence that I imagine prevails in Indochina as well (less so down south, I guess because of the British and all that). So why bother placing the story in London at all? Why not a SEAsian country? My current hypothesis is that he wanted the setting (though really, what is so desirable about chickens in the street; I admit to some suspicion of exoticism-chasing) but a European tradition of thought -- Wagner, Shakespeare, the classics etc. etc. I don't think that's a super good reason, though. Hmm. Still thinking about it.
May 24, 2019
A real chore. The idea of a future where viruses help people learn is intriguing and the first 30 pages are interesting. However the story quickly gets convoluted and confusing. It's like it tries to be too many things at once and they don't mesh well. I also found the writing to be laborious and not engaging.
December 13, 2014
What an odd, interesting read. The world-building is fantastic: somehow a huge welter of disparate futuristic elements manages to fit together into a cohesive whole. A subtropical, Communist, vaguely medieval London; genetically modified photosynthesizing humans; hyperintelligent children; a governing, literal collective unconscious; Dante, opera, holograms, weird genetically mutated mental contagions, etc etc.
I really liked how the society was obviously problematic without being overly menacing -- it could easily have gone over the top into Orwellian/Brave New World territory, but instead stayed in more relatable waters, flawed but well-intentioned.
I enjoyed the second half more than the first, but my one big criticism would be that the second half -- a series of flashbacks and -forwards -- got really confusing because I couldn't tell (until the very end) which timeframe was supposed to be the present.
Bonus points for being scifi that explores queer issues: what's it like to be one of the only gay people in a homophobic society that's almost eradicated gayness?
Oh, and T.S. Eliot references, woo!
I really liked how the society was obviously problematic without being overly menacing -- it could easily have gone over the top into Orwellian/Brave New World territory, but instead stayed in more relatable waters, flawed but well-intentioned.
I enjoyed the second half more than the first, but my one big criticism would be that the second half -- a series of flashbacks and -forwards -- got really confusing because I couldn't tell (until the very end) which timeframe was supposed to be the present.
Bonus points for being scifi that explores queer issues: what's it like to be one of the only gay people in a homophobic society that's almost eradicated gayness?
Oh, and T.S. Eliot references, woo!
August 22, 2010
In the dystopian London of the future, a teenage germophobe has a lesbian romance with an opera-singing polar bear. And that's just the beginning.
This book is FREAKIN' AWESOME. The premise sounds completely ridiculous, but the story engages the reader emotionally and intellectually. This book is a must for sci-fi fans and (though explaining it would spoil parts of the story) for theater people, too.
This book is FREAKIN' AWESOME. The premise sounds completely ridiculous, but the story engages the reader emotionally and intellectually. This book is a must for sci-fi fans and (though explaining it would spoil parts of the story) for theater people, too.
December 29, 2015
This book was interesting - it's not really dystopian, it's not really artificial intelligence, it's not really sci-fi. But it kind of is. I guess it's kind of a believable exploration of where science could take society and what that could mean. It's funny that the way we live now is held up as being so fantastic compared to where they end up in the book, especially since our current way of life is so flawed and unsustainable.
September 5, 2017
I am genuinely struggling to review this without descending into incoherent joyful screeching noises. It is a book that is beautiful and dense and dramatic and full of heart. It's about memory and art and politics and individuality and biology and so much more.
The whole thing is so poetic and imaginative I could only read it in small sections before I would have to put it down and think through what I had just encountered. A real experience.
The whole thing is so poetic and imaginative I could only read it in small sections before I would have to put it down and think through what I had just encountered. A real experience.
July 12, 2013
Paul di Filippo coined the term ribofunk as the biological analogue to the popular genre steampunk. That is an adequate term to describe Ryman's London of the future, which consists of a pit filled with historical oddities such as wooden houses and faithful theatrical productions while the rest are communities grown of living coral or vast mycelial structures that serve as a food source as well as a housing arrangement.
This is the future, one that this reviewer has failed to render in the beauty and awe and the downright banality of one living in this world that Ryman has dreamed up. It is a love story, a mystery, and a story of viruses.
When a child is born, she is made sick with viruses. These viruses are not unlike the internet as we know it. They're built in, injected search engines. As a result, children grow up ahead of their time. as a result, creativity is dead, and a rote devotion to exact reproduction of the past, popularly that of theatre. The viruses tell you everything you need to know; you never need to learn anything for yourself.
When the children turn ten years old, they are Read: their brain is mapped and stored in the Consensus, a vast organic network of personalities stretching rootlike across the world. The child is placed to a field fitting for her personality, and as one is Read, any "deviant" behavior such as homosexuality, -philias, -phobias, etcetera is removed. The Consensus, the million million souls of recorded children, is involved in every process of humanity's growth; its word is the law.
Milena Shibush is different. The only child to be placed, but never Read, she's fallen in love with a human genetically engineered to survive the Antarctica—a polar bear. Rolfa is a musical genius potentially exceeding that of Beethoven, Mozart, and other classical masters. This is only the beginning of this story, which takes us far from the dream of Milena's childhood into her cancerous future, to her death. It is a chorus of viruses which unpack meaning from everything you see, a ride down the Charlie Slide where angels come back from the future of their past. It is a painful romance, of one's love for humanity despite all odds.
PS It is interesting to note that Ryman has inserted a multitude of allusions and references to popular culture. I am convinced that a solid third of The Child Gardens is in reference to the relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. there are also gags and jokes and wordplay (one of my favorites is Space Opera. Heh, heh, heh!). As always, when approaching a book this dense and inventive, I never know enough, probably could never read enough to know enough, which makes it all the more frustrating. In any case, boys and girls, it is still not a good enough reason to not read this book.
This is the future, one that this reviewer has failed to render in the beauty and awe and the downright banality of one living in this world that Ryman has dreamed up. It is a love story, a mystery, and a story of viruses.
When a child is born, she is made sick with viruses. These viruses are not unlike the internet as we know it. They're built in, injected search engines. As a result, children grow up ahead of their time. as a result, creativity is dead, and a rote devotion to exact reproduction of the past, popularly that of theatre. The viruses tell you everything you need to know; you never need to learn anything for yourself.
When the children turn ten years old, they are Read: their brain is mapped and stored in the Consensus, a vast organic network of personalities stretching rootlike across the world. The child is placed to a field fitting for her personality, and as one is Read, any "deviant" behavior such as homosexuality, -philias, -phobias, etcetera is removed. The Consensus, the million million souls of recorded children, is involved in every process of humanity's growth; its word is the law.
Milena Shibush is different. The only child to be placed, but never Read, she's fallen in love with a human genetically engineered to survive the Antarctica—a polar bear. Rolfa is a musical genius potentially exceeding that of Beethoven, Mozart, and other classical masters. This is only the beginning of this story, which takes us far from the dream of Milena's childhood into her cancerous future, to her death. It is a chorus of viruses which unpack meaning from everything you see, a ride down the Charlie Slide where angels come back from the future of their past. It is a painful romance, of one's love for humanity despite all odds.
PS It is interesting to note that Ryman has inserted a multitude of allusions and references to popular culture. I am convinced that a solid third of The Child Gardens is in reference to the relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. there are also gags and jokes and wordplay (one of my favorites is Space Opera. Heh, heh, heh!). As always, when approaching a book this dense and inventive, I never know enough, probably could never read enough to know enough, which makes it all the more frustrating. In any case, boys and girls, it is still not a good enough reason to not read this book.
May 13, 2017
This is one of those books that's a good experience, a fascinating experience, but I wish I could rate it just a bit lower because it's kinda uneven. We're talking 60 percent spectacular, dizzy surrealism and hungry, isolated personalities grasping for each other (what fun what fun) and 40 percent repetition. I'm hesitant to talk too much about all the delightful little surprises, all the absurdities described perfectly seriously, because the pleasures of The Child Garden are in the unexpected moments.
We'll keep it to a very broad, introductory summary. Cancer has been cured, but as an unforeseen result, everyone dies at the age of 35. Education happens through tailored viruses. So it is. The book leans heavily on imagery that's unexpected and occasionally gross, or at least very biological. There's also more than a little body horror, so if that's not for you, be warned, if that is for you, The Child Garden will be your jam. Much of the charm of it is how much of the unexpected is everyday taken-for-granted by our heroine. The bizarre is commonplace, and the commonplace sometimes bizarre.
The first third or so of the book is the strongest, but it's worth wading through to the conclusion. Even in the most tedious stretches of the journey, you still get points of interest, unique, memorable snippets.
We'll keep it to a very broad, introductory summary. Cancer has been cured, but as an unforeseen result, everyone dies at the age of 35. Education happens through tailored viruses. So it is. The book leans heavily on imagery that's unexpected and occasionally gross, or at least very biological. There's also more than a little body horror, so if that's not for you, be warned, if that is for you, The Child Garden will be your jam. Much of the charm of it is how much of the unexpected is everyday taken-for-granted by our heroine. The bizarre is commonplace, and the commonplace sometimes bizarre.
The first third or so of the book is the strongest, but it's worth wading through to the conclusion. Even in the most tedious stretches of the journey, you still get points of interest, unique, memorable snippets.
July 12, 2014
Lots of interesting ideas and references with good pedigree, but there's lots of tedium in this book as well. Love the GEs, but couldn't quite square all the behaviours attributed to them. The idea of Milena's relationship with Thrawn was much more promising than the execution of it ended up being - The attempt to have Milena feel guilt about Thrawn's ultimate demise felt half-hearted and contrived to me. I lost patience with the fractured chronology and focus on detail that almost seemed like a tactic at times. By the end I regretted suspending disbelief for 388 pages. The fascinating stream-of-consciousness string of ideas keeps you hooked, but the clever details end up seeming like slapped-on accessories instead of integrated elements of the organic whole of a story.
January 12, 2016
Give me the short version: Cancer was finally bested, at the accidental cost of lifespan, individuality and, cruelest of all, childhood itself. Not even Milena realizes she intends to change all this.
Amongst my friends, The Child Garden is known colloquially as "That Sad Book" because every time I finish it I end up bawling with a total overload of grief and joy.
The structure's initially a mystery to somebody unfamiliar with opera, but the story is more than powerful enough to stick with until you cotton on. A great read for anybody who suffers from the loneliness of living in a big dense community, it will shake all those emotions loose for you.
Amongst my friends, The Child Garden is known colloquially as "That Sad Book" because every time I finish it I end up bawling with a total overload of grief and joy.
The structure's initially a mystery to somebody unfamiliar with opera, but the story is more than powerful enough to stick with until you cotton on. A great read for anybody who suffers from the loneliness of living in a big dense community, it will shake all those emotions loose for you.
Shelved as 'didnt-finish'
March 20, 2014This started out really interesting, and I think Geoff Ryman is no-kidding a genius, but I got about halfway through and realized I was not reading any books at all because of how much I was avoiding reading this one. I think part of the problem is that the main character is so dissociated from herself that I just couldn't connect with her...which made it really hard to be interested in her story after a while.
Too bad, because everything else in the book was FASCINATING.
Too bad, because everything else in the book was FASCINATING.
February 2, 2018
I enjoyed this- a surreal journey through a dystopia biopunk future in which the cures for human ills are themselves diseases. My only question is, why was it so badly edited an proofread?
May 13, 2023
This is possibly the weirdest, most abstract book I've ever read. Almost as if a lot of the titles for people, roles and situations are changed to deliberately confuse the reader (and make the story artificially appear more interesting and unique). This confusion is further compounded by the non-linear narrative and time jumps.
I read a good deal of Sci-Fi and while the idea of a warmer, more 'botanical' world filled me with curiosity, very early on I felt lost and unable to truly follow the plot. A bit like trying to recall and explain a particularly bizarre lucid dream.
There were some interesting concepts that I'd love to have seen developed further (the Snide), however others I wasn't keen on (a romance between a 16 year old and a human, genetically engineered to be a polar bear? Yep).
Ultimately the novel takes inspiration from other, better pieces of SF fiction (the ending feeling like that of 2001: A Space Odyssey and being "Read" reminiscent of We Can Remember it for you Wholesale AKA Total Recall) while muddling in some poorly explained or downright confusing character motivations.
I read a good deal of Sci-Fi and while the idea of a warmer, more 'botanical' world filled me with curiosity, very early on I felt lost and unable to truly follow the plot. A bit like trying to recall and explain a particularly bizarre lucid dream.
There were some interesting concepts that I'd love to have seen developed further (the Snide), however others I wasn't keen on (a romance between a 16 year old and a human, genetically engineered to be a polar bear? Yep).
Ultimately the novel takes inspiration from other, better pieces of SF fiction (the ending feeling like that of 2001: A Space Odyssey and being "Read" reminiscent of We Can Remember it for you Wholesale AKA Total Recall) while muddling in some poorly explained or downright confusing character motivations.
December 12, 2018
People will give this book five stars without thinking twice about it and I understand. It is intense, long, surreal, existential.
I fell into it thinking that it would be shorter in span, but it follows the life of a protagonist from start to finish. And because time and space and the uncertainty of it all play a big role, the narrative is jumbled and you go from infancy to old and back to teenager within several pages. There's a structure and a rhythm to it all, one that I only understood during the very last pages.
And it's long. It is too long. Entire passages could be skipped, they offer nothing to the story. Entire passages that could've explained it all, are skipped instead. Barely touched.
Tech is plenty and often, but barely explained. Or explained too late. Or explained too much and way too in-depth.
Ryman is teetering, barely holds his balance. Themes bounce throughout the novel. Motherhood, love, music, growth, loss, sickness.
At times the scene is downright ridiculous. Picture a man with buttocks swollen because there's a child growing in his bowels. Next to him an illuminating cancer patient, talking to a man who thinks he's her dog and acts the part. Around them people are signing to communicate, it's a mutated virus that made them like this.
And Ryman just stuffs the ridiculousness in heavy scenes as well. A man butt-pregnant waddling around his dying lesbian wife.
And there's something! Her being a lesbian is Not OK. It is forbidden and considered Very Very Wrong. Sadly she can't be cured like the rest of the Evil Gays. But WHY IS IT FORBIDDEN? It is NEVER explained and honestly, there shouldn't be any reason in this world for it to be forbidden. It really makes no sense whatsoever.
Most parts are beautiful, but I feel like Ryman just lost the thread that weaves this tale and let it run its course by itself.
I fell into it thinking that it would be shorter in span, but it follows the life of a protagonist from start to finish. And because time and space and the uncertainty of it all play a big role, the narrative is jumbled and you go from infancy to old and back to teenager within several pages. There's a structure and a rhythm to it all, one that I only understood during the very last pages.
And it's long. It is too long. Entire passages could be skipped, they offer nothing to the story. Entire passages that could've explained it all, are skipped instead. Barely touched.
Tech is plenty and often, but barely explained. Or explained too late. Or explained too much and way too in-depth.
Ryman is teetering, barely holds his balance. Themes bounce throughout the novel. Motherhood, love, music, growth, loss, sickness.
At times the scene is downright ridiculous. Picture a man with buttocks swollen because there's a child growing in his bowels. Next to him an illuminating cancer patient, talking to a man who thinks he's her dog and acts the part. Around them people are signing to communicate, it's a mutated virus that made them like this.
And Ryman just stuffs the ridiculousness in heavy scenes as well. A man butt-pregnant waddling around his dying lesbian wife.
And there's something! Her being a lesbian is Not OK. It is forbidden and considered Very Very Wrong. Sadly she can't be cured like the rest of the Evil Gays. But WHY IS IT FORBIDDEN? It is NEVER explained and honestly, there shouldn't be any reason in this world for it to be forbidden. It really makes no sense whatsoever.
Most parts are beautiful, but I feel like Ryman just lost the thread that weaves this tale and let it run its course by itself.
February 7, 2016
I kept going back and forth on this book. Or, better - up and down. And also, the book had some part in that too, it's not just that I'm fickle. I thought it was deeply interesting, but terribly paced. Sometimes it reminded me of a Derek Jarman movie, and sometimes of Margaret Atwood's MaddAddam books, but the weird visuals were oddly inaccessible. I feel like it's the sort of sci-fi academics love, or that academics who work on sci-fi love love (I'm an academic and I didn't love it), and maybe it's kind of Jack Vance-y? I dunno, it's been a while since I gave Vance a shot (I've never finished one of his books). There's a lot of world-building in this book, but the world itself was also weirdly inaccessible and sometimes non-sensical (not necessarily a problem - the bears bothered me less than the rapid aging). I think, also, that a ~socialist dystopia might have seemed much more plausible in 1989 than it does now.
I think that, also, I might just not be in the mood to read a messiah-y book these days. But it's an interesting enough book that I'm glad I've read it.
I think that, also, I might just not be in the mood to read a messiah-y book these days. But it's an interesting enough book that I'm glad I've read it.
August 12, 2007
I don't remember how I got this book, or even when. I have owned it for a long time, though, and re-read it at least once a year. More than any other book I have read, I find that I still react as strongly to each reading as I did to the first. It is beautifully written: lyrical, heartbreaking, imaginative, thought-provoking, and touching.
This is not a book for those who like linear story lines or who find themselves easily confused if the timeframe is not explicitly given. Nor is it for those seeking simple, escapist fare. This is the book you want to read when you have a weekend to yourself with nothing to distract you and no one else around.
It is definitely worth seeking out.
This is not a book for those who like linear story lines or who find themselves easily confused if the timeframe is not explicitly given. Nor is it for those seeking simple, escapist fare. This is the book you want to read when you have a weekend to yourself with nothing to distract you and no one else around.
It is definitely worth seeking out.
March 31, 2017
My first thought upon finishing this book was that this is for those people who say that they are looking for something different. This book had a little bit of everything - a love story, a dystopian setting, music and theatre, genetically engineered humans - and that's just the first few chapters. I thought that the book was well written although there were times when I had problems following along. Some important ideas were explained in just a sentence or two in a kind of throwaway fashion and were thus easy to miss. Other ideas were vague and not fully developed. Having said all that it was an excellent read and I highly recommend it.
June 4, 2012
The word dystopic has become so overused and ubiquitously misunderstood. This book would be the ideal slap in the face for those really seeking to find accounts of a life less ordinary ...
Lovers of music will not be disappointed. The language is rich, lyrical, rhythmically dominant in luring you from page to page.
Lovers of women equally will find themselves instantly taken by the Milena/Rolfa camp. I identified with Milena, and couldn't help but fall for Rolfa ...
5* -- highly recommended.
Lovers of music will not be disappointed. The language is rich, lyrical, rhythmically dominant in luring you from page to page.
Lovers of women equally will find themselves instantly taken by the Milena/Rolfa camp. I identified with Milena, and couldn't help but fall for Rolfa ...
5* -- highly recommended.
December 24, 2014
I was very into this at first, but 1/3 of the way through, when the flashbacks started as Milena was being Read, I became bored. Terribly bored and continuing to read each night became a chore, so after another 100 pages or so (ebook) I stopped. Losing Rolfa's presence in each chapter made the story suffer. Thrawn couldn't replace her. I skipped ahead a few chapters to find Milena flying above the earth in a spaceship and dumping roses on the world, a huge departure, it seemed to me, from the story I had first enjoyed, so I decided to quit while I was ahead.
July 2, 2017
A remarkable read! It starts off with an almost Young Adult novel feel, then maybe a smarter young woman's coming of age story, but then it becomes...something more. Incredibly complex, beautiful, explores many ideas about life, humanity, philosophy, relationships and oh, the music.
It is seriously in the realm of House of Leaves, Cloud Atlas and some of the better Murakami books.
It dives deeply into the relevance of society and our consciousness, and how - to quote Terrence McKenna, "Nothing lasts, but nothing is ever lost."
5 Stars +
It is seriously in the realm of House of Leaves, Cloud Atlas and some of the better Murakami books.
It dives deeply into the relevance of society and our consciousness, and how - to quote Terrence McKenna, "Nothing lasts, but nothing is ever lost."
5 Stars +
March 4, 2012
People are purple because they photosynthesize, viruses are cures that change who you are, some people turn into Bees and then can grow vegetation (if they haven't accidentally swapped identities with a dog), organic spaceships can re-write genetics to grow anything from snapping turtles to roses, and genetically engineered people are turned into polar bears to mine in the Arctic. Really weird, but kind of awesome.
June 28, 2010
Mind-blowing. That's pretty much all there is to say.
Oh, except for a hint: don't try to quantify the narrative, or try to get something sensical and linear out of it. That's not the point of the novel. The point is to convey the themes therein: life, death, the necessity of change and creative thinking.
Oh, except for a hint: don't try to quantify the narrative, or try to get something sensical and linear out of it. That's not the point of the novel. The point is to convey the themes therein: life, death, the necessity of change and creative thinking.
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