Book Review: Grass by Sheri S. Tepper
Nov. 3rd, 2012 01:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
juushikaTitle: Grass
Author: Sheri S. Tepper
Published: New York: Bantam Books, 1993 (1989)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 449
Total Page Count: 121,816
Text Number: 354
Read Because: mentioned in the notes for the Sirens panel "Women who Run with Wolves and Dance with Dragons," borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Plague threatens to ravage all of mankind, and only one place is exempt: an isolated planet called Grass, with its strange human culture and stranger native residents who may be nothing that they seem. Grass is reminiscent of Mary Doria Russel's The Sparrow: spiritual/philosophical issues brought to light by human exploration of a truly alien world and society—so alien that humans are initially unable or unwilling to realize the world's true nature, to their own detriment. The Sparrow has more subtlety and finesse, but Grass is its own beast, and often a fascinating one. The book has an surprising density: it's a slow start to introduce such a broad premise and cast of characters; even when the momentum builds, it remains a long read. On one hand, Grass herself is fascinating: the mystery of the planet sustains the plot and its slow reveal is truly chilling, as well as convincingly alien; on the other, the ending is quick and neat, as well as predictable: Tepper gives the reader many clues, and they solve much of the mystery themselves—too early. Thematically the book is well-intentioned and often thought-provoking, but also heavy-handed—it never grows simplistic and characters are often anything but, but some of the human elements threaten to move in that direction. The book has flaws, certainly, but its strengths are captivating: the fascinating, truly alien landscape of Grass, its unique inhabitants and their menacing, dreamlike atmosphere, and a strong protagonist and philosophical skeleton to support it all. The Sparrow is the better book, but I'm glad to have read this one too—and recommend it
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
Author: Sheri S. Tepper
Published: New York: Bantam Books, 1993 (1989)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 449
Total Page Count: 121,816
Text Number: 354
Read Because: mentioned in the notes for the Sirens panel "Women who Run with Wolves and Dance with Dragons," borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Plague threatens to ravage all of mankind, and only one place is exempt: an isolated planet called Grass, with its strange human culture and stranger native residents who may be nothing that they seem. Grass is reminiscent of Mary Doria Russel's The Sparrow: spiritual/philosophical issues brought to light by human exploration of a truly alien world and society—so alien that humans are initially unable or unwilling to realize the world's true nature, to their own detriment. The Sparrow has more subtlety and finesse, but Grass is its own beast, and often a fascinating one. The book has an surprising density: it's a slow start to introduce such a broad premise and cast of characters; even when the momentum builds, it remains a long read. On one hand, Grass herself is fascinating: the mystery of the planet sustains the plot and its slow reveal is truly chilling, as well as convincingly alien; on the other, the ending is quick and neat, as well as predictable: Tepper gives the reader many clues, and they solve much of the mystery themselves—too early. Thematically the book is well-intentioned and often thought-provoking, but also heavy-handed—it never grows simplistic and characters are often anything but, but some of the human elements threaten to move in that direction. The book has flaws, certainly, but its strengths are captivating: the fascinating, truly alien landscape of Grass, its unique inhabitants and their menacing, dreamlike atmosphere, and a strong protagonist and philosophical skeleton to support it all. The Sparrow is the better book, but I'm glad to have read this one too—and recommend it
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
