Zoe's Tale: John Scalzi

At the end of his previous novel, The Last Colony (2007), the third full installment of the series that began with Old Man's War (2005), John Scalzi spoke in an afterword of being finished with the series. He explains in a similar afterword here why he has now contravened that decision and returned to this particular mythos, partly under his own impetus and partly in satisfaction of readerly feedback: to more fully explore the personality of Zoë, daughter of the husband-and-wife protagonists of the prior books, and to fill in some hastily handled plot points. Zoe's Tale is, consequently, a novel whose events run "in parallel" with those of The Last Colony, but as seen exclusively from Zoë's point of view. So let's recap.

Zoe's Tale's prologue finds the colony ship Magellan (carrying the Perry family and 2,500 other settlers) finally reaching its destination, the virgin world of Roanoke—but not exactly. The Union that sent the colonists there has played a trick on them, sending them elsewhere and setting them up to be bait to lure the Union's foes, the Conclave, into a deadly trap. The colonists are understandably disappointed and miffed.

Zoe's Tale's narrative next jumps backward to convey how all this came about, reminding us of Zoë's status as "patron saint" to the alien Obins (two Obins are with her continually) and introducing us to her new friends, Gretchen, Magdy and Enzo. The former two become romantically involved, as do Zoë and Enzo.

We rejoin real time and watch through Zoë's eyes as the stranded colonists deal with the native lifeforms, including intelligent "werewolves" and their own enforced primitivism. Relations among the quartet of friends deepen until a tragedy occurs. War erupts, is temporarily halted, and Zoë is sent offplanet, where she engineers a pivotal concession from the galaxy's most powerful race, the Consu, saving her planet.

End of tale.

An interstellar Ghost World

I am faced with a real dilemma when evaluating Zoe's Tale: trying to put its predecessor entirely out of my mind. Ideally, one would like to evaluate Zoe's Talel as if it were a stand-alone like its great inescapable template, Heinlein's Podkayne of Mars (1963). (Every SF book featuring a teenage female protagonist must be compared to the Heinlein volume, no matter how different its plot or themes or atmosphere; it's a bylaw of the critics' union.) But I don't think that the vast majority of Scalzi's ardent fanbase are going to be able to do so any more than I can. Maybe some brand-new young-adult readers will bring a virginal mindset to Zoe's Tale, but they'll be in the distinct minority, I fear. So the majority of this review will focus on Zoe's Tale as seen in that shadow.

If I could possibly approach Zoe's Tale knowing nothing, I'd say that it has definite charms, panache and appeal. The first third of Zoe's Tale establishes Zoë and her posse as likable, bright, real teens in a future setting rich with Scalzi's patented verisimilitude. (Although I do question some of Zoë's diction: the old-fashioned words "wench" and "canoodling," used unironically, occur in the first few pages.) The next third of Zoe's Tale details some exciting adventures on the new world. And the final third of the book moves into a larger realpolitik sphere of action where Zoë has to mature and move beyond mundane daily concerns.

But Scalzi's somewhat laudable desire to backfill the interstices of The Last Colony without repeating everything means that crucial events such as the actual shooting match around Roanoke happen offstage this time, and without the buttressing they attained when narrated by Zoë's dad. If Zoe's Tale had been a stand-alone, these dramatic omissions would never have occurred. Consequently, the novel has an odd shape to its plot and tone, as if important things were always happening just outside Zoë's peripheral vision.

What's left is the elaboration of Zoë's personality above and beyond what we've seen before. Her first-person narration is indeed comic and engaging, often in the manner of Daniel Clowes' Ghost World. And her parents don't dominate the page at all. Zoë is her own independent voice. Scalzi achieves that goal. But I can't say that I'm really any more in love with Zoë than I was when she was seen from the outside—which was a strong enough bond already. And the whole pendant, retold nature of the tale effectively removes my interest in sheer plot.

I'm reminded of what Steven Gould did with Jumper: Griffin's Story (2007). The unfortunate retroactive continuity in that book actually weakened the earlier novels. While Zoe's Tale doesn't do so to The Last Colony, I'm not convinced it was altogether necessary or desirable to revisit from a different perspective a finished and satisfying novel.

What happened to the umlaut in Zoë's name on the front cover and title page? Was it deemed too suspiciously foreign for American readers? It's hard to believe Tor's crack graphic team couldn't accommodate it. Just wondering ...

-—Paul