Star Trek Deep Space Nine: The Peacemakers, by Una McCormack

Second paragraph of third chapter:

The playhouse, like the rest of the place, had been built to Ben’s design. From spring onward (and it always seemed to be spring on Bajor), the doors folded back, so that you could play half inside, half outside. The cover of the trees was put to good use too, for when the sun was too hot. In the winter, the place became a snug little shelter, a cozy cabin, where hot chocolate could be drunk, and s’mores consumed. Right now, halfway through spring, the doors stood open, and Deborah’s game spilled out of the playroom onto the grass outside.

This is Una McCormack’s new book, to be published later this month; and in case you needed reminding, she is the Guest of Honour at Novacon this weekend. (I am afraid that this was the last unread book by Una McCormack on my shelves, so if you have just started reading in hopes of more Una-related content, you may have a long wait.)

The Peacemakers is a Deep Space Nine novel, which unfortunately means I’m not the target audience; I have read a spinoff novel by Robert Sheckley, and seen only the two episodes of Deep Space Nine where Sisko and colleagues are beamed back to 2024, but that’s it.

It doesn’t matter, because The Peacemakers is set some time after the end of the stories that we saw (well, that other people saw) on TV, and the central character is not Captain Benjamin Sisko, but his son Jake, an aspiring writer who is undertaking a visit to the conflict-riven world of Cardassia. There’s a lot of stuff in here that I loved. Jake’s experiences as a writer on the convention circuit must surely be partly inspired by the author’s real life observations. There is an intriguing plotline of him being spied on by his own side, and resisting the efforts of others to involve him in politics.

But in particular, the story really gets going with a cryptic archaeological site and an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery, which also ties into the broader issues of cultural appropriation, commemorating the past and dealing with the legacy of conflict. It’s all tied up with the complex and tragic history of Cardassia, which is close enough to some real life situations that I know rather well. But the parallels are left for the reader to observe; there is no sledgehammer symbolism.

All in all I enjoyed this a lot, despite my general ignorance of Deep Space Nine. The Peacemakers is not out yet, but you can order it here.

Incidentally for fans of African history who don’t already know this, Julian Bashir, the doctor in the space station Deep Space Nine, is played by Alexander Siddig, who is a direct male-line descendant of the Mahdi, who defeated the British in Sudan in the 1880s. His first cousin Mariam al-Mahdi is a prominent opposition leader and former foreign minister.

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Picard: The Last, Best Hope, by Una McCormack

Second paragraph of third chapter:

During this brief pause, this hiatus before the whirl of activity that is about to follow, I must take a moment to remind myself how profoundly grateful I am to everyone who has willingly put aside everything to commit themselves to this mission. Above all, I thank the stars for the work done behind the scenes by my new XO, Commander Raffi Musiker. I am aware that through her efforts what should be problems are presented to me as wholly solved. Captain Kirsten Clancy has been liaising with the Romulans, and Raffi is of course a specialist in Romulan affairs. I have the distinct impression that Clancy’s tendency toward micromanagement has been a burden that my XO has also borne on my account, and I am greatly appreciative. This has left me with the time to fully concentrate on staffing, coordinating, and directing the fleet. On Earth, Commander Gbowee has rapidly constructed an organization and processes to respond to our requirements for matériel and staff; she and Lieutenant Kaul are masters of the concise briefing. Messages from Commander Geordi La Forge are proving an interesting read: I sense behind his words some resistance from the yard’s engineers at these new and overwhelming demands that are being placed upon them. I understand too that for many, this will mean setting aside research for many years that may well have been the chief concern. But if any officer can corral them toward a common goal, it is surely Geordi, among the most optimistic, practical, and sincere officers of my acquaintance.

This is the best known book by Una McCormack, according to the three book-logging systems that I consulted. Because Novacon is this weekend, and Una is the Guest of Honour, we’re going to have a run of her novels here this week.

It’s particularly poignant to be writing this so soon after we lost Sir Patrick Stewart. Of course, most of the best lines given to Picard were written by the writers, not him; but there has been a tremendously moving outpouring of affection from those who worked with him, or met him, or just even had a casual encounter with him in the supermarket queue (though I’m not sure that I believe the Huddersfield autograph story). We will not see his like again.

Back in pandemic days, we hugely enjoyed the first series of Picard. This is the prequel, telling the story of how Jean-Luc Picard masterminded the evacuation of the Romulans’ home world on assignment from the Federation. It’s not an action-packed adventure, but a thoughtful exploration of the politics of crisis, with a certain amount of putting narrative pieces in place to explain the setting of Picard.

McCormack folds into this some political parables: the Romulan refugee crisis feeds directly into populism and threats of Brexit-style secession within the Federation; there is a science-denying Romulan nobleman whose refusal to accept the imminent disaster puts his own people in danger. There’s also an interesting depiction of the tensions between secrecy and openness in Romulan society.

But the core of it is the character of Picard, who I think McCormack catches perfectly, and his trajectory from philosophically accepting his duty to losing patience with the Federation, via intermediary stages of indirectly or directly disobeying orders for the greater good. I think even a reader who knew nothing at all about Star Trek would enjoy this. You can get Picard: The Last, Best Hope here.

Two books I didn’t finish: Midaq Alley, and Star Trek and Sacred Ground

Two books that I didn’t finish for different reasons.

Midaq Alley is by Naguib Mahfouz, the next in my series of Nobel Prize winners for Literature who were not white men (a list that has recently increased by one). The second paragraph of its third chapter (in the original Arabic formatting) is:

واحسرتاه كيف تدعين القمل يرعى هذا الشعر الجميل!“What a pity! Imagine letting lice live in such lovely hair!”
translated by Trevor Le Gassick

I gave it 100 pages, but I was rather repelled by how horrible the characters were and by the toxic masculinity of the authorial voice, so I’m afraid I gave up.

You can get Midaq Alley here. Next on my Nobel laureates list is July’s People, by Nadine Gordimer.

The third chapter of Star Trek and Sacred Ground: Explorations of Star Trek, Religion and American Culture, eds. Jennifer E. Porter and Darcee L. McLaren, is “Classtic Star Trek and the Death of God: A Case Study of ‘Who Mourns for Adonais'” by Robert Asa. Its second paragraph is:

Star Trek certainly was “far out” for the times, both literally and figuratively. Not only did the events of the show take place in outer space, strange creatures appeared who taxed the credulity of the average television viewer. While Americans were anticipating a manned landing on the moon by the end of the decade, only the visionaries dreamed of actually exploring other worlds. Science fiction television and films were largely confined to the B-movie category, known for their bad scripts, bad set, and bad acting. Children and teenagers might be entertained by it, but no one with mental images of the theatrical Buck Rogers or the televised Lost in Space could begin to take science fiction seriously as commentary on anything except the prevalence of mindless bad taste.

Again, I gave this 1999 collection of academic essays 100 pages before coming to the conclusion that I do not really know or care enough about Star Trek, or about popular religion in America, to get much out of it. You can get Star Trek and Sacred Ground here.

This was the non-fiction book that had lingered longest on my shelves (an Eastercon 2023 purchase). Next on that pile is Paul: The Pagans’ Apostle, by Paula Fredriksen.