Starcross [Paperback]

They say science fiction for kids doesn't sell. They say a lot of things, but this particular belief is pretty widespread. Space may be the final frontier, but as far as kidlit publishers go, literary reaches for the outer limits aren't worth the paper they're printed on. Still, there is some sci-fi that simply must turn a profit. Take Philip Reeve, for example. This is the guy who conjured up the YA Hungry City Chronicles. Who single-handedly found a way to combine gross colonization and space travel in the seemingly effortless children's title, Larklight. You simply cannot look me in the eye and tell me that an author as talented as Mr. Reeve isn't going to get at least a couple fans here and there. And if sci-fi doesn't sell then why on earth are we lucky enough to see the sequel to Larklight on our bookstore shelves? Yes, "Starcross" is here and fans of the intergalactic adventures of Myrtle, Art, and Jack Havock are bound to be pleased as we see them tackle their toughest enemies yet: The Moob.

When last we saw our heroes, siblings Myrtle and Art were living peaceably once again in their house (which happens to be a bit of highly dangerous alien handiwork, though that's neither here nor there), Larklight. Peaceably might be a bit of a stretch, actually. At the moment decorators have descended on the old home and no one is getting any rest. After a mysterious invitation arrives inviting the family to the beautiful and otherworldly grand hotel Starcross, the family picks up and leaves only to find things very mysterious indeed. Their old friend Jack Havock is there in disguise, paying close attention to the lady guest Miss Beauregard (and you can imagine how happy that makes Myrtle). Guests appear to have disappeared from the surroundings, and then there are the black top hats. Not merely elegant headgear, the hats turn out to be horrid alien creatures from the far future called Moobs. With plans for universal domination, they intend to open a portal to the future and allow more of their kind through so as to take over and dominate the world around them. It'll take some pretty fancy footwork for our heroes to overcome this mind-controlling threat and save the day once more.

You know you're in safe hands when you find the term "Amanuensis" on the very first page. Those of you who were fans of "Larklight" will find much to love in this story as well. Favorite characters return (though they have a nasty tendency to either get their minds chewed on or their bodies turned into trees), and villains outdo themselves in sheer nefariousness (not a word, I know). As per usual, Mr. Reeve is juggling a series of different genres. The Victorian boys adventure novel. Science fiction. Penny dreadfuls. To this mix you may now add "drawing room mystery". The secret of Starcross plays out like a humdinger of a game of Clue (though you might want to remove the top hat from your game of Monopoly and add it to the list of murder weapons for this particular game).

Anglophilia is a must with this kind of story, however. Reeve isn't afraid to include out-of-date Britishisms that may serve up a giggle or two for American audiences. For example, I know what the term "horny-handed sons of toil" means, but no one should be too surprised if a reader here or there misinterprets. The book is so unapologetically English that Reeve has even managed to find a way to sneak railroads into intergalactic space travel. And let me tell you, that is no mean feat though it makes for an odd read when you're a Yank. I mean, by dint of our own history, we are inclined to sympathize with a French villain's motives and plans. Plus the idea of a world in which the Yanks were never able to get out from under the yoke of Mother England may be a pleasant fantasy for Brits living and breathing today, but even the least nationalistic American amongst us has to chafe a little at the thought.

Still, it truly is the author's language that sucks you in. Not only does he create consistently amusing and diverting new worlds, but he also has the verbal skills to back them up. So it is that you hear about the planet Vestibule, "which is hollow, and inhabited by people who live upside down upon its inner surface, and Abnegation, which was woven out of brown string by Presbyterians." Heck, the bawdy music-hall song titles are worth the price of admission alone. Songs like, "Dearest Margaret, You Are Danish and Your Dog's Not Very Well" and "My Grandfather's Sqallaxian Bogusoid Was too Tall for the Shelf." I hate it when my review decomposes into me simply repeating a book's clever sentences, but Reeve has that effect. A reviewer simply cannot resist statements like, "my army consisted of me, two elderly gentlemen who were not feeling quite the ticket, a grumpy goblin, two anemones, a large crab and a blue lizard of the gentler sex." Perhaps I'm a loon, but I find sentences of that sort simply irresistible.

I was shocked when I came to the undeniable conclusion that my favorite character, despite my best intentions, was the bespectacled Myrtle. Myrtle is a difficult character to love sometimes. She insists on deviating as little from the norm as possible, but simply thrives when she's no longer limited to the standard Victorian ethics she so admires. You can't help but be amused when she's forced to spend most of this book in a remarkably useful set of bathing gear. And man, when I saw that two-faced Jack Havock drooling over the lovely Miss Beauregard all I wanted was for Myrtle to walk over and remove the French woman's curls, hair by hair if necessary. How dare that hussy distract the attention of our glasses-wearing heroine? And by the way, reading "Starcross" I started wondering why girls are allowed to wear glasses in science fiction more than any other genre. There's this series. There's A Wrinkle in Time. There's The Girl With the Silver Eyes. Wherefore this trend, I wonder?

The only real problem that comes with reviewing a book of this sort in its Advanced Readers Copy form is that I haven't seen all of David Wyatt's lovely pictures. I remember that when I reviewed Larklight it was with shock and amazement that months later I learned of the multitude of pictures that appeared in the final product. Wyatt only puts hints of images in the ARCs of this book, so I cannot tell you whether or not they are as lovely as the first. I am sure that they will be, though. You can't help but enjoy pictures where everyone and everything is doffing silk top hats left and right.

If you're foolish enough to have not yet read Larklight, citing such piss poor reasons as "I don't do sci-fi" or "Space scares me", overcome your personal weaknesses and give the book a shot. After that, "Starcross" is bound to please one and all. Now I feel like there's something I've forgotten to mention in this review... what was it... what was it... AHA! The opinion of children! After all, this book is supposedly written for them. Well, I can attest for a fact that you won't find any children's reviews of Larklight on Amazon.com. What are we to take from that? This is one of those books that's going to hit a very specific segment of the population. It's not for the unwashed masses one and all. It's for a kid here and a kid there who will find themselves sucked into Reeve's world and never want to let go. Here's looking forward to the next book in the series!

I've decided the word I'm looking for in order to describe this book is "droll." One thing I loved about Larklight, and which carries on into Starcross, is Philip Reeve's fresh take on genres such as science fiction and fantasy that everyone else seems to be grinding repetitively into the ground. Who else would have thought of giant cities rolling around devouring smaller cities (see Reeve's Hungry Cities Chronicles), let alone this heartily old-style British lark of an adventure set in a friendlier version of outer space?

Art Mumby and his sometimes irritating sister are back, this time facing French spies, alien invaders disguised as top hats, and complications relating to time travel (i.e., being devoured by giant sand clams). It's all very giddy--in addition to droll--and I occasionally lost even my highly elastic suspension of disbelief, mostly with regards to the Moobs. So I'll admit I liked Larklight a little better than the sequel. Still, Starcross is simply a lot of fun, especially when you consider what else is being written these days--a great many darkly epic or apocalytic tomes. Why not laugh with a book for a change?

The role of Myrtle's bathing suit is just one of the nutsy, appealing details in Starcross. Starcross also gives us vital information about what really motivates a goblin, the drawbacks of having a mother who's essentially a goddess, and how to keep a Moob from taking over your brain. Set sail (or rail) into space with Art Mumby for a rollicking good read!

In Starcross, we follow the adventures of the Mumby family as they save the solar system from destruction again. This time, the Mumbys are lured on a special vacation in the asteroid belt, only to find themselves caught in a vicious plot by aliens that look like top hats. Yes, you read that correctly--top hats.

Starcross manages to be both sci-fi and fantasy. As I mentioned in my review of Larklight, visiting the Mumbys requires the reader to enter an alternate British Empire circa 1865, radically different in every way from that of reality. The Brits have taken over most of the solar system after Newton discovered the means by which to fly near the speed of light. Science operates under entirely different principles. Many literary and historical allusions are used by the author to hilarious effect throughout the book.

Starcross is superior to Larklight in that the storyline is more coherent and organized. The creativity and humor that Reeve employs here are over-the-top. He imagines scenes you'd never imagine on your own, and while the characters are intentionally rendered in caricature, he also nails family relationships perfectly.

There's a little very chaste romance, no language (even less of the "D---!" than in the last book), and little actual death. Great fun for readers ages 12 and up (and the very well read of ages 10-11).

› Go to Amazon.com to see all 13 reviews  4.7 out of 5 stars