An Alien Heat - Michael Moorcock’s first of three novels forming Dancers at the End of Time, a tribute to the decadent dandyism of fin de siècle England with such colorful personalities as Oscar Wilde, Max Beerbohm and Aubrey Beardsley. Since I'm a huge fan of Decadent classics, Against Nature by Joris-Karl Huysmans comes immediately to mind, and also New Wave SF, I found every page of this singular Michael Moorcock novel positively scrumptious - so much so, I even created a special black and yellow bookmark from a Victor Vasarely print to match the cover of the SF Masterworks edition of Dancers at the End of Time (detail above).
We're hundreds of thousands of years into the future where the remaining humans (only a handful, it appears) are in complete control of their surroundings. You want your very own Swiss castle in the Alps or a French garden in the style of Louis XIV out your window or a baroque harpsichord in your parlor? Just twist your ring - and presto, thanks to highly advanced technology, there it is.
As to all those distasteful, less than completely satisfying bits of human experience - childhood and adolescence, sickness and aging, urinating and bowel movements – not a trace in this distant world. Pain and suffering, you say. What’s that, pray tell? Oh, please, don’t be boring – we don’t want to hear it. By the way, pass the apricot jam as its orange-golden hue matches the color of my antique pendant and I so love spreading lusciousness on my crisp croissant.
As to the exact science behind all this, no explanations are forthcoming, not even close. This is soft SF with a vengeance.
Philosophical inquiry, national identity, religious beliefs, moral principles - gone, nonexistent, all part of a long forgotten past, having been replaced by aesthetics, taste, sensuality and a zest for eye-catching fashion. One such fashion that's all the rage is assembling your very own menagerie. For, you see, darling, as we in our modern world have collected the artifacts of ancient and traditional cultures to be put on display in our museums, so individuals in this future world create menageries out of all forms of life in the universe; oh, yes, even aliens from other planets or time travelers from other times are placed on display for the amusement of guests who care to take a leisurely stroll between having sex on a satin chaise lounge and trading witticisms in their host's plush drawing room.
It is in this elaborately decadent landscape we meet Jherek Carnelian lounging on a cream-colored beach with his mother, the Iron Orchid, and speaking of his wish to try out what it would be like to be "virtuous." Baffling and bewildering, this "virtue," Jherek admits, but it's something that has tickled his fancy and he would definitely like to give it a go.
Several scenes later Jherek and the Iron Orchid fly in his air ship formed in the shape of a 19th century locomotive (Jherek has a particular fascination with object from that bygone era) to attend a party hosted by the Duke of Queens. And it is here where Jherek spots the lady, a time-traveler from that very same 19th century, that will change his life. "She wore a tight-fitting grey jacket and a voluminous grey skirt which covered all but the toes of her black boots. Beneath the jacket could just be seen a white blouse with a small amount of lacework on the bodice. She had a straw, wide-brimmed hat upon her heavily coiled chestnut hair and an expression of outrage on her pretty, heart-shaped face."
You bet she had an expression of outrage. For, as we eventually learn, this lady was abducted from her home in 19th century England and forced to travel through time landing her at this decadent party. Her name is Mrs Amelia Underwood and when Jherek casually refers to sexual activity, she delivers a heavy smack on his cheek.
When Jherek recovers, he searches the room for her. But, alas, she's nowhere to be found. Most unfortunate, since, wonders of wonders, he desperately desired this time-traveler. "His heart was set on her. She was charming. He fingered his cheek and smiled."
Thus we have in this Michael Moorcock novel, a most unusual love story. Unusual for several reasons, not the least of which is romantic love, love that sets the heart on fire, is a phenomenon completely unknown in this future. However, there is something unique about Jherek - unlike everyone else, including the Iron Orchid, all of whom came into this world as adults, as remarkable, odd and farfetched as it might seem, Jherek was actually born.
Another reason is obvious and one that frames a good portion of the novel's satire and humor: Jherek Carnelian's aesthetic, morality-free society versus Mrs Amelia Underwood's Christian, morality-heavy society. Amelia is astonished, and that's understatement. "It was often hard for her to remember what duty actually was in this - this rotting paradise. It was hard, indeed, to cling to all one's proper moral ideals when there was so little evidence of Satan here - no war, no disease, no sadness (unless it was desired), no death, even. Yet Satan must be present. And was, of course, she recalled, in the sexual behaviour of these people."
Likewise, when Jherek follows Mrs Amelia Underwood back to 19th century England, where, thanks to Michael Moorcock's keen sense of timing and language, every single one of the decadent dandy's encounters is a perfectly timed comedy of errors. And Jherek is such an innocent, a most likable handsome gent in his top hat, cape, dashing black suit and boots.
I must admit, as much as a reader can with a work of literature, I fell in love with An Alien Heat. I relished the many delicious pages and to my joy, as noted above, there are two other novels in this series - The Hollow Lands and The End of All Songs. I'll be traveling next week. Any guesses what I intend reading?
British author Michael Moorcock, born 1939
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