A short and concise novel deserves a short and concise review, so here it goes. Deathworld, the first book of the, wait for it, Deathworld trilogy, written by Harry Harrison, is basically a pallet swap with The Stainless Steel Rat books. And this is exactly what I wanted from it. Harrison's pulpy voice does wonders to create these kinds of low brow, space-opera, high flying, action/adventure yarns. And that's exactly what Deathworld is. Like the film The Road Warrior, Deathworld is a reduction of genre conventions. It contains only the barest of essential elements needed to tell its story. It is relentlessly paced, populated with characters there only to serve the plot, and delivers an almost non-stop series of cliffhangers, thrills, spills, and chills.
The main character's name is Jason dinAlt, not to be confused with “Slippery” Jim diGriz, a.k.a. The Stainless Steel Rat. Mr. dinAlt is a gambler, a rogue, a handsome, smooth-talking devil, a ladies man, a hero, a fighter, a lover, and he possesses psionic abilities. Basically, he's freaking awesome. He's Han Solo meets James Bond meets Jason Bourne meets a telekinetic James Randi. I'd be surprised is George Lucas didn't base the Han Solo character after some of Harrison's own creations. The book tells of his adventures of the planet Pyrrus, one of the most dangerous planets in the universe (there are three most dangerous planets, hence the trilogy).
It seems as though Pyrrus exists and has evolved, and continues to rapidly evolve, for one purpose only: to obliterate mankind as painfully as possible. The weather on Pyrrus is devastating; one minute it will be pouring rain, the next minute your soggy clothes will be steaming and drying in the blazing heat. Volcanoes erupt without notice, earthquakes tear the land apart, the fauna is ladened with skin searing acid and poison, and the wild life is twice as deadly.
On top of all of this, there seems to be some kind of psionic radiation urging and pushing everything on the planet to wipe out anything that gets in its way. Also living on this planet are a group of colonists who live for one thing alone: survival. From the ages of five they are trained to fight. They have special guns surgically attached to their arms, and they are made into killing machines. Why are they there? Well, the planet is simply overflowing with highly desirable heavy metals. It is a treasure trove of trade and potential wealth. Sounds like the perfect place for Jason dinAlt, a place where he can totally test his skills.
Harry Harrison knows how to write these kinds of stories, and he writes them well. While the prose is only serviceable, we're not talking poetry here, nor will you find any flowery descriptions, it is simply perfect for the job at hand. Like the characters with which he populates his worlds, Harrison moves fast, thinks on his feet, and just lets it rip. Yes, there are far too many coincidences, and, like some space-aged MacGyver, Jason also seems to have exactly what he needs for the job at hand. Yes, the situations are outlandish, and pretty silly, if not downright absurd. And yes, I enjoyed it immensely. For my money, popcorn sci-fi doesn't get any better than a great Harrison potboiler. Deathworld is intense, suspenseful, full of action and heroic deeds, and is a total blast from start to finish.
