I've always been interested in the exploration of religious themes in science fiction. This is one of the main reasons why I am so drawn to the work of Philip K. Dick. When I first read about James Blish's Hugo award winning novel A Case for Conscience, it sounded like the perfect book for me.
It tells the story of Father Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez, a man of the cloth and a man of science; in addition to being a priest, Father Ramon is also a distinguished biologist. He is sent, together with a small group of scientists, to the distant planet Lithia to measure the social and ecological impact of an Earthmen colonization. What Father Ramon discovers is something that may be far too sinister to ignore, and something that may, in fact, challenge his own faith and thousands of years of church dogma.
At its core, A Case of Conscience offers up an interesting premise while it also asks some important questions. It deals with the discovery of an alien society that is totally moral; they have no crime, no violence, they do not lie, and they are not bad in any way, as a matter of fact, they completely lack the words and references for these things.
The planet, too, is a representation of perfection; its biology, geology, and ecology all work in tandem to form a perfect ecosystem. Everything on the planet is perfect, too perfect, at least as far as Father Ramon is concerned.
Father Ramon discovers what he perceives to be a singular flaw: the Lithians have no concept of faith, God, or religion. It is Father Ramon's hypothesis that the planet has been created by Satan to ensnare humanity in some kind of trap. However, according to dogmatic law, Satan can only create illusion and cannot create anything tangible. Ramon's hypothesis is not only controversial to the secular scientists, but it also leads him down a road paved with heresy towards his church's dogmatic law.
As I sit here and pound out the above description, it is with some disappointment. Unfortunately, Blish never really delivers on the incredible premise he sets up in the first third of his novel, and by the midpoint he almost lost me completely.
One of the first problems is with the writing itself. Now, this may not be fare to Blish, but I have recently been spoiled by Theodore Sturgeon and Alfred Bester, two masterclass wordsmiths. A Case for Conscience simply lacks the poetic prose needed to convey such an emotional and spiritual topic.
The prose is not necessarily bad but it is only serviceable, and when an idea as ambitious as Blish's is conveyed in a less than remarkable way it accentuates the drabness. The biggest problem with the novel's execution is the dialog: it's too on the nose. The characters always seem to say exactly what they mean, and most of the narrative's mystery is told rather than shown. Plot points that should have been revelatory discoveries full of majesty are simply told to the reader through uninteresting dialog and exposition, like utterances of little importance.
Another major problem is chapter eleven. Alright, maybe I should back up a bit to give some perspective. First of all, let me give some praise, because there are some things beyond the premise that I really do like. It all starts out brilliantly with the central characters already on Lithia. That we don't have to wait for the excursion to get underway, nor do we have to sit through pages of exposition waiting for the alien planet to arrive, is a welcome turn of events.
This is good, the plot gets rolling from the first chapter, and pushes right along until about chapter ten. But then along comes chapter eleven, where I feel as though the book gets derailed, in a bloody, gory, massive train-wreck kind of way.
Chapter ten is the first chapter of the second part of the book, and its almost as if this part was written by an author who forgot what the first part was about. Unimportant new characters are introduced, Father Ramon is forgotten about for a long passages, and nothing interesting or of note happens.
But chapter eleven is the worse! It's one of my least favorite things I have ever read. It introduces a totally insipid situation that just doesn't make any sense, and offers up nothing in terms of believable character development, or engaging narration. You could probably rip this chapter out of the book and not miss a thing. It's as if Blish switched gears in between the two parts of his book, and decided to focus on a different premise than the one he initially set off with, one that is not nearly as interesting or well developed.
Unfortunately, the book never regained my interest after this crucial juncture. This book is like a roller-coaster with only one hill. It starts off great, and then, with each passing chapter, it becomes less and less interesting. I could hardly bring my self to finish the last fifty pages because I simply didn't care about anything that was happening or anyone it was happening to.
So yeah, this review turned out really negative, and it saddens me in a way. However, I am only this down on the novel because of how great it's premise and beginning are. It was like being promised a cake and then finding that the cake was a lie (sorry Portal, but I had to do it). I will say this about James Blish though - his imagination has piqued my interest, and even though I cannot recommend A Case of Conscience, I am looking forward to reading more from this author.
