Jack Vance's reputation in SF and fantasy is nigh-unimpeachable, with good reason. The Dying Earth fused the pulp fantasy approach of Clark Ashton Smith with the whimsical playfulness of Dunsany to produce something which, arguably, has had as much influence on the fantasy genre as Lord of the Rings (which it preceded by four years). Lyonesse, his other major fantasy series, was a striking reimagining of Arthurian myth. His various science fiction novels - including The Dragon Masters (which Anne McCaffrey drew on shamelessly for her Pern series), Emphyrio, The Demon Princes, and the brilliantly-named Servants of the Wankh - have been praised by just about everyone who's written or read science fiction in the 20th Century.

Which is why I was keen to get to grips with his latest two-part series, Ports of Call and Lurulu - his previous novel, 1996's Night Lamp, was excellent, after all. This pair of books may have an unoriginal concept - young man struck with wanderlust becomes crew member of space ship, gets to see universe - but you can forgive a man for writing traditional space operas if he was one of the pioneers of the genre, right?

That Unoriginal Premise In Full

Myron Tany, our hero, is itching to explore the Gaean Reach (the setting of many a Vance classic), but is stifled by his unimaginative parents. He convinces his aged and vain Aunt Hester to take her recently-acquired spaceship on a quick jaunt to a far-off planet which reputedly has a cure for old age. Naturally, partway along the journey a suave young gentleman sweeps Hester off her feet and convinces her to abandon Myron, forcing him to find employment on the Glicca, commanded by Captain Maloof and carrying from star system to star system an array of exotic cargoes and quirky passengers. They woosh around the galaxy and have adventures. Along the way, they explore the concept of "lurulu", which loosely corresponds to the accomplishment of your heart's desire.

I mentioned adventures, didn't I? They're pretty gentle. Myron falls in love with a girl, but later on decides he doesn't like her because her family have funny taste in statues. Captain Maloof suddenly declares that he's looking for his kidnapped mother, and rescues her. Moncrief and the Mouse-Riders, a troupe of roving performers, have a performance go badly wrong and bicker amongst themselves about money. Innkeepers and merchants try to swindle the characters out of their hard-earned cash. (This is a constant theme in Vance.)

What we are offered, then, is a gentle ride through Vance's universe, a series of pleasant vignettes against a galactic backdrop. Fair enough, but is there a point to all this?

Not One and Not t'Other

Vance has, of course, used this format before - for example, the linked pair of The Eyes of the Overworld and Cugel's Saga consist of a series of encounters experienced by the roving vagabond Cugel. However, the twin set of Ports of Call and Lurulu seem pale and lacking compared to previous, similar efforts, simply because they seem aimless and pointless; Cugel's encounters are obstacles on his difficult journey home, and while he is often distracted from this goal temporarily it looms large in his mind. Myron's efforts to track down his Aunt are... nonexistent. She ditches him at the beginning of Ports of Call, he stumbles across her at the end of Lurulu, and little effort to resolve the very conflict which kicks off the story is in evidence at any point (nor is it required). A happy ending simply drops into his lap.

This is the first time I have ever seen Vance give a protagonist such an easy ride. His heroes usually have to work for their rewards. Then again, struggle against fearsome odds would not fit the gentle tone of the series. Even Captain Maloof's rescue of his mother takes place in a strangely tranquil, matter-of-fact way; at no point did I ever feel that anyone (except the kidnapper) was seriously at risk. While this is consistent with the gentle, easy tone of the books, it's also boring and dissatisfying. The contrast with Night Lamp is stark; while that novel unfolds at a laid-back and easy-going pace, Vance is still able to invest the protagonist's nemesis with all the menace and terror commanded by, say, Chun the Unavoidable, or the Star King, or any of the other villains of Vance's earlier novels.

There is no point to this novel, beyond the constant Vance theme of "travel broadens the mind". The characters drift around the galaxy, have a good time, and eventually achieve a happy ending. The strong central plot thread that Vance almost always provides in his novels is startlingly, strikingly absent here.

Contractural Obligation, Or Just Not Trying

I get the impression that even Vance isn't satisfied with his work - was he trying to fulfil a contractual obligation before retiring? His forward to Lurulu implies that he wasn't really sure where Ports of Call was going, and simply stopped writing when he had enough material to published. Myron's romance, introduced towards the end of Ports of Call, is barely mentioned for most of Lurulu, and is quickly and swiftly disposed of towards the end. It feels like more prose is dedicated to vivid descriptions of the various planets they visit than what the major protagonists are actually getting up to. The crowded ensemble cast means that no protagonist gets quite enough spotlight time to really shine, but that at the same time Vance can fluff up the page count by briefly mentioning what various people are getting up to.

Towards the end of the book, the good ship Glicca visits a planet sacred to a sect of pilgrims, who set off from the major town to walk a route that takes them all the way around the world, so they leave the town heading west and return from the east. There is a long discussion about whether there is any point to the journey; one of the crew members is persuaded not to go through with his plan of joining the pilgrimage, since the difficulties and obstacles are too discomforting and at the end little is achieved or gained from the endeavour. I wonder whether Vance feels that he was justified in taking us on our own pilgrimage, beginning and ending at Aunt Hester's mansion. Personally, I'd rather go and worship at the shrine of the Dying Earth yet again.