In this chapter, rain plays the usual role of the wind in Poul Anderson's works, accompanying and punctuating the dialogue, particularly at its dramatic points and pauses.
Argens is on sentry duty when the enemies of the Azkashi arrive at the camp:
"The galaxy was hidden in a slow, hot rain..." (p. 58)
The galaxy is visible only at night. We have already been told that:
"It was not impossible for the Herd to come raiding at night. But it was rare. The downdevils feared God and so their worshipers did too...." (I, p. 6)
But they venture forth when weather hides God.
Next, when the representatives of the Herd have been welcomed into a hut:
"Then I stood, soaked, hearing the rain rumble on our roof, crowded with my men between these narrow walls, and looked upon wonder." (p. 58)
The Herd are very different from the Pack, not free tribes-beings but specially bred slaves.
With a little whisky inside him, Argens is able to forget rain, heat and darkness and to concentrate on communication.
Gianyi of the Herd and his blind dwarf telepath bow their heads whenever the former mentions their masters, the Ai Chun: a human gesture. Implausibly human?
When two Earthmen discuss their guests:
Valland wonders whether "Azkashi" means:
Ya-Kela thinks that ya-Valland has:
"...curious weaknesses.'" (p. 52)
He is blind at night, awkward in the marshlands, lacking either tail or webbed feet, and ignorant of dangers like dart bushes. Of course Valland is awkward and ignorant in this environment! That ya-Kela does not understand that is a limitation on his part, not on Valland's. In a city, if he ever visited one, ya-Kela would not know to look both ways before crossing a street.
More seriously, if the stranger is not after all "'...from God...,'" (p. 53) then ya-Kela:
"'...will plunge the first spear into ya-Valland.'" (ibid.)
Many on Earth would regard the Azkashi's devotion "'...to God alone...'" (p. 54) as admirable but we have learned from experience how this can go wrong. In London, an Evangelical preacher went to the assembly point of a demonstration in order to address Muslims with remarks like:
"They say that He is not the Son of God and what a blasphemy that is!"
Not a blasphemy, just a different belief!
(What constitutes respect or disrespect to the Lord is largely a matter of tradition. Someone who entered our meditation hall was shocked to see people sitting for meditation with their backs to the Buddha.)
Here at Blog Central, we, editorially speaking, are suffering from a mild cold, therefore reading and posting sluggishly. Also, we are still giving some attention to the less-read James Blish Appreciation blog.
Go with God. (As Blish's Jorn the Apostle says.)
In works by Edgar Rice Burroughs, Ray Bradbury and CS Lewis, Mars is humanly habitable. One novel and one short story by Lewis are set on different versions of Mars.
In Larry Niven's Known Space future history, a human protector diverts an ice asteroid onto a collision course with Mars and thus exterminates the Martians although some of their species still survive in the Map of Mars in the Ringworld.
In Anderson's Psychotechnic History, there are native Martians. In his Technic History, there are extra-solar colonists of Mars. In his The Fleet Of Stars, there are human colonists of Mars. In his The Winter Of The World, interplanetary travel has ceased but Mars is green, indicating that it has been terraformed and has now become humanly habitable.
When ya-Kela looks at the night sky:
"...the last coals of sunset went out, and the sky was empty of everything save God, the angels, and three planets..." (I, p. 6)
I said in God Rising that I did not know what the angels were. I still don't. When Felipe Argens looks at the sky on that same night, he sees only the galaxy ("God") and:
"...three glitters which we now knew were planets." (VII, p. 44)
Can natives see something that human beings cannot? Or are the "angels" those stars that can be discerned as individual points at the ends of the spiral arms? I think that it is more likely that they are divine attendants that are imagined or believed in although not seen. But I remain unsure as to what Poul Anderson was alluding to.
"God was rising in the west, and this time the sun was down -..." (I, p. 5)
"This evening the galaxy rose directly after sunset." (VII, p. 43)
This is the same event described twice and from different povs. Later in I, ya-Kela must investigate:
"...strange newcomers..." (p. 6)
Later in VII, Hugh Valland, on watch, spots:
"'Somethin' out there. Approachin' real slow and careful. But two-legged, and carrying things. Let's not scare 'em off.'" (p. 47)
Ya-Kela and his "...bold followers..." (p. 5) approach and soon there will be yet another First Contact. We have become used to reading about these at least. Has there ever been a First Contact between two intelligent species and, if so, what was it like? Willingness to communicate and learn? Misunderstanding and conflict? There was an Arthur C. Clarke story in which astronauts had been instructed not to retaliate if attacked! Give the other side the opportunity to say, "Our man in the field acted wrongly..." Extreme caution, at least for the First Contact. Thereafter, respond as indicated.
On the planet where they are stranded, the Meteor crew glimpse some human-sized bipeds with powerful legs and tails. The first person narrator, Captain Felipe Argens, comments:
"I, who have met thousands of different races, still feel that each one is a new epoch." (p. 42)
Thousands? In that timeline, yes. In our timeline, it seems that multicellularity might be rare.
Argens adds that stars, planets and biologies can be categorized whereas minds cannot:
"...you never know what strangeness will confront you." (ibid.)
But most alien minds in sf are recognizable.
I am being pulled in another direction because I want to reread more of James Blish's Welcome To Mars and to contrast it with his last Haertel Scholium volume, Midsummer Century. Fortunately, there is time for Anderson, Blish and more, especially when retired. (Later: See Radio, Dirac And Cats.)
Regular readers of Poul Anderson Appreciation know that we enjoy analyzing the intricacies of Anderson's Technic History. Contemplation of the complexities of Blish's Haertel Scholium affords a comparable enjoyment but what is remarkable is that, since this morning, we have realized some previously unnoticed discrepancies between Blish's two instalments set on Mars. It pays to reread and compare.
We might return to Anderson's characters stranded in the "world without stars" some time tomorrow when there will also be a talk at the Lancaster City Museum. Living in a historic city, we study future histories.
