Star-Anchored, Star-Angered, Suzette Haden Elgin

Star-Anchored, Star-Angered, Suzette Haden Elgin (1979)
Review by Ian Sales

Elgin is perhaps best known as a science fiction poet, the founder of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, and for the engineered language Láadan, which appears in her novel Native Tongue (1984) and its sequels. However, before both of those, she wrote a quintet of light-hearted space operas featuring the same central character in the same universe. Star-Anchored, Star-Angered is the fourth of these Coyote Jones books. The first, The Communipaths (1970), appeared as half of an Ace double, and the second, Furthest (1971), as an Ace Special, before Elgin moved across to DAW for the rest of the series.

Coyote Jones, the hero of Star-Anchored, Star-Angered, is an agent for the Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service. He is also mind-deaf. However, he is an extremely powerful mind-projector. He can’t hear, but he can shout really loudly. A new religion, the Shavvies, has appeared on the Novice Planet of Freeway, and the authorities of that world, who use tithing from the laity of the Old Faith to fund their upkeep, are getting worried. So they’ve asked the Tri-Galactic Council to intercede and send an agent to investigate the Shavvies’ leader, Drussa Silver, who apparently routinely performs miracles. Jones has been chosen for the mission, because his mind-deafness means he should be immune to any telepathic trickery Silver is using.

Disguised as a Student – there are only one thousand in the three galaxies, and they are much revered – Jones arrives on Freeway. The planetary set-up is explained to him, and then he goes off to infiltrate the Shavvies. His cover, however, is blown pretty much from the moment he arrived, but it doesn’t matter – the Shavvies welcome him anyway. An attempt to discredit him by drugging him and then putting him in a compromising position with the young daughter of one of the sector rulers fails as the daughter is far too sensible to fall for it or play along. Jones meets Silver and demands she show him a miracle to prove her bona fides. She does. He immediately realises she truly is divine and converts to the Shavvies.

Jones’ presence on Freeway was all part of a plot by a secret cabal of Freeway rulers. First they exacerbated the situation on their world in order to prompt TGIS involvement. Then they had hoped that Jones would arrest Silver and take her back to Mars-central for indictment. En route, she would be assassinated and the TGIS blamed. Once that plan falls apart, they try something different – and yet something that is likely all too familiar to most western readers.

Star-Anchored, Star-Angered is for much of its length light, almost humourous, in tone. Jones arrives at a university asteroid, where he will be briefed on his cover. Student garb exists solely of fake tattoos in the form of fauna and flora:

“If you think I’m strangely dressed, Citizen, you should see some of the others.”
“It doesn’t bother you to have a bee crawling up your penis?”
“What bee?”
Coyote pointed.
“That’s only a tattoo, Citizen, it’s not alive.” (p 8)

The tone remains once Jones arrives on Freeway – his arrival is comic, the world’s faux mediaeval society is shown to be more Disney than Middle Ages, and the various characters he meets are very broadly drawn.

But there are hints throughout Star-Anchored, Star-Angered that more is going on than just a humorous space opera story. It not simply that the final third of the novel positions Silver as a Christ-like figure, and even tries for a Judas-like betrayal. Each chapter is headed by excerpts from “external” texts, ranging from invented nursery rhymes to a poem by “s.e.” (Suzette Elgin, one imagines) to various passages from scholarly works. One of the latter is taken from Woman Transcendent by Ann Geheygan – a book which also features in a chapter of the story – and it discusses “surpassment”:

The state of surpassment, in which the spirit moves beyond its ancient boundaries and can no longer be affected by fear or pain or any other illusory perception, comes only with great difficulty to the male human … It is no wonder, therefore, that primitive man in his consuming jealousy of the ease with which the female could achieve what he did only so rarely and so painfully, did everything he could to conceal her natural abilities away for all time. (p 113)

While never categorically stated, it seems clear that Silver has attained this state (as had rare male messiahs in human history). Unfortunately, the idea is not really explored in Star-Anchored, Star-Angered - perhaps too deep an exploration of it would have sat at odds with the light-hearted tone of the rest of the novel. The ending, however, is far from cheery – Silver is killed but her murderer, who was intended by the cabal to be seen as a conquering messiah, chooses instead a life of penance.

On the strength of Star-Anchored, Star-Angered, I’m not really surprised Elgin’s Coyote Jones series has languished in obscurity for the past three decades. Having said that, worse books than this one have remained popular, or been judged sf “classics”, for much longer. Star-Anchored, Star-Angered is a light, fun sf novel which perhaps doesn’t quite know whether it really should be so light, but is nevertheless an entertaining read.

Native Tongue, Suzette Haden Elgin

Native, Tongue, Suzette Haden Elgin (1984)
Review by Ian Sales

“The natural limitations of women being a clear and present danger to the national welfare when not constrained by the careful and constant supervision of a responsible male citizen, all citizens of the United States of the female gender shall be deemed legally minors, regardless of their chronological age…” (p 7)

In the future of Native Tongue, a series of amendments to the US Constitution in 1991 have repealed all rights for women. By 2179, this situation appears to have become global, though no good explanation for such a practice being adopted by other nations is presented. Earth also has colonies on other worlds, and is in contact with an unspecified number of alien races. In order to communicate with these aliens, several groups of linguists have come into being. Known as the Lines, these are extended families in which every member is trained from birth to be fluent in at least one alien language and a handful of human languages, as well as have working knowledge in many more languages. Nazareth is perhaps the most gifted linguist in Chornyak House, a Line located in North America. At an early age, she displays a talent for “Encoding”, ie, identifying concepts which do not exist as single words in any earthly language. A few samples are given at the end of Native Tongue in an appendix – “ralaheb: something utterly spiceless, ‘like warm spit’, repulsively bland and blah” or “wonewith: to be socially dyslexic; uncomprehending of the social signals of others”. These Encodings are important because they are the building blocks of a secret language called Láadan the women of the Lines are creating. The men know nothing of Láadan: they think the language the women are working on is Langlish, but that’s a smokescreen. The development and introduction of Láadan is the end point of the narrative of Native Tongue.

Most of the novel is concerned with describing a world in which Láadan’s creation both occurs and betters things for its speakers. And since those speakers are women… It’s not enough that females are second-class citizens, Nazareth is also married to a man she despises. A monstrous secret government project to train a baby to speak a “non-humanoid” alien language – run entirely by men – repeatedly results in the horrible deaths of its subjects. Michaela Landry murders her obnoxious husband and, working as a nurse, becomes a serial killer of old men… but changes her ways on meeting the old women of Chornyak Barren House. A “barren house” is just as the name suggests, a retirement home for women who can no longer bear children. And Chornyak Barren House is also where most of the work on Láadan is being done.

“…never for an instant, lose track of the knowledge that when you interact with a woman you interact with an organism that is essentially just a rather sophisticated child suffering from delusions of grandeur” (p 110)

The true aliens in Native Tongue are the men. There is a disconnect between what we are told the male characters believe women to be – ie, sophisticated children – and how they actually interact with them. Though they denigrate Langlish, and protest at women’s inability to think, in many situations in the book their behaviour towards their wives is no different to how it is to each other. Yes, they are patronising, and arrogant, and in a number of scenes talk as though they had been lifted direct from a Robert Heinlein novel… And yet the paternalism suggested by the above quote never really manifests in their behaviour.

Which is, I suppose, part of the point of Native Tongue. Turning up the chauvinism to eleven, so to speak, renders the male characters less than human, which in turn highlights the plight of the female characters, and so demonstrates the importance of Láadan. In part, this might also explain the thinness of the background. The world of 2179 is assumed to be little different to that of North America, which itself seems mostly unchanged from the USA of 1984. Though colonies on other worlds are mentioned, no explanation for their existence, or indeed how they are reached, is given. Technology does not appear to be much advanced from the mid-1980s.

As Native Tongue builds towards its reveal of Láadan, it remains adamant that the language will improve the lives of women, but never quite says how it will do so. Certainly there is room for improvement – and not simply from a legal standpoint (something, of course, which Láadan cannot affect). Elgin paints a picture of a society in which the treatment of women is criminal, and hints at a solution without actually revealing it. But then Native Tongue is only the first book of a trilogy – it was followed in 1987 by The Judas Rose, and Earthsong in 1993.

There are many things to like Native Tongue. Michaela Landry is a very likable character, despite being a serial killer. The society of Chornyak Barren House is portrayed well (not all of its inhabitants are sympathetic or admirable). The linguistics around which the story is based provides a number of fascinating ideas. And yet… The story all feels a little one-sided, a little too much like an attack against an uncharacteristically token defence. It feels unbalanced thematically and in its world-building. Native Tongue is a book, I think, that needs rereading, and then its sequels need to be read.

Note: Elgin did actually create Láadan – see here.