We have become sensitized to physical descriptions of Nicholas van Rijn. I neglected, in Grand Entrance, to quote that he was said to "roll" (p. 57) into Joyce Davisson's room. (Try to picture that in a literal sense.) When they hurry along a corridor, his:
"...ponderous jog trot made a small earthquake..." (p. 58)
He barks and growls in "A hoarse basso..." (p. 57) His tones are "...gravelly..." (p. 59) He proves that he is a man of action when that is what is called for. When arrows fly, he throws himself across Joyce and his:
"...well-worn personal blaster..." (ibid.)
-dispatches an attacking t'Kelan.
We have been reading Joyce's point of view (pov) but suddenly she is stunned so we read an objective account of van Rijn carrying her and complaining before she regains consciousness and we return to her pov. When a door is locked against them, he pounds and bellows. We would feel confident with him on our side.
This is the kind of sf that I read in comic strips in childhood. Human beings are on another planet and the natives attack. Life is simple, death even simpler.
1 comment:
Kaor, Paul!
It would be vastly safer to be on Old Nick's side--not one of his enemies.
SF should also be fun to read, not just ponderously serious and instructive.
Ad astra! Sean
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