10 July, 2019

Second Foundation by Isaac Asimov


Another book composed of two novellas. These two are both about people searching for the Second Foundation, that of the psychologists, mentalists, and psychohistorians.


Part 1: “Search by The Mule”
The Mule returns to continue his obsessive search for the Second Foundation. Convinced they threaten his power, he has spent the five years since “The Mule” not expanding his empire much, not knowing where he can safely strike. He’s led on a merry chase by the Second Foundation that ends with his conversion to a benevolent dictator so that he can live out his days.


I’m not sure what to make of this story. I enjoyed reading it, but thinking back on my time reading the book—I couldn’t do my notes right away because of my broken arm—I recall this story dimly. It’s a cross and double cross, the final defeat of the Mule. And Asimov’s boring writing style does help keep the plot clear. But it still doesn’t thrill. It’s like somebody once said, “work on your descriptions, Isaac,” and he took that to mean, “add more boring sentences to your descriptions, Isaac.”


One thing here is that where “The Mule” talked about the soft people of the Foundation becoming too reliant upon Seldon’s Plan psychologically, Tazenda is a hard world to live on, a farming world full of snow and high winds, and it clearly creates hard people. These farmers are salt-of-the-earth folk, open with what little they have, used to isolation, and set in their ways.


The other point here is that the Mule’s downfall is precipitated on his inability to imagine people with power not wanting to use it—he can’t imagine people unlike himself. So, in his search for the Second Foundation, he’s always looking for a kingdom, a galactic power of some sort, even if he does look for a small one rather than a successful one. The Second Foundation instead hides in obscurity. This allows them to strike without warning, to plan safely, and to have time to set up their trap. In other words, because the Mule assumes other mentalists must be like himself, he falls. Similarly, because Seldon assumed that human reactions wouldn’t change, and yet the Mule was able to do just that for the ruling class of the Foundation, the Seldon Plan almost falls apart. These twin themes drive the point home well: just because you think you’re right, don’t expect others to rely on your same premises. This a great tactic too: both cause and effect in the plot are saying the same thing. The cause shows the Mule that assuming others agree with his view of reality, which both brings him to power and causes his downfall; while the effect shows the Foundation Seldon’s premise of human reactions, which both brings them to power and almost causes their downfall. Right now I can’t think of another book that pulls off this tactic, and it’s sensational.


Part 2: "Search by the Foundation"
Arkady Darell, a 14 year old girl and the granddaughter of Bayta Darell from “The Mule”, searches for the Second Foundation on behalf of the First Foundation. Some Foundationers want to eliminate the Second Foundation as a threat, they resent their influence and wish to act independently. Meanwhile, the Second Foundation struggles to figure out how to right Seldon’s Plan after the First Foundationers come to rely on their oversight for safety, sinking further into complacency and softness. The solution is to convince the Foundation that the Second Foundation exists underground on Terminus, then let them kill those Second Foundationers and think that they have won, when in reality the Second Foundation has stayed hidden and powerful behind a human shield of martyrs.


I think in one way Asimov improved as a writer here: every time I think, “huh, that’s strange”, it turns out to be intentional and part of the plot—the Second Foundation taking control of Arkady’s flight, being able to get her out of the spaceport, etc. Whereas in earlier stories there are always a number of things that are incongruous all the way through the story—the most egregious of which that I have come across is the “investigation” in Caves of Steel. In the preceding books of the Foundation Series, there are many of these incongruities, only a few of which are able to be post facto rationalized by the reader. Yet here he seems to have his writing consistent in a way that allows his storytelling to really succeed.


At the same time, the writing is still laughably bad. At one point he sets up a chase scene, and it’s getting exciting. He’s building tension well, and using quick sentences to drive the pace forward. The chase is getting more and more intense. I’m admiring that he seems to have written something a bit better than his norm. And then, this sentence, “She was running now—running wildly—searching madly for an unoccupied public booth at which one could press a button for public conveyance.” I burst into laughter and laughed for ten minutes. Asimov uses three phrases to support this tension ("running now—running wildly—searching madly", which show his typical tendency to redundantly insult the reader’s intelligence) yet subverts all of that tension by allowing himself an aside about the uses of a public booth (”at which one could press a button for public conveyance”). This disappointing lack of followthrough with the tone and scene—here even in a single sentence—shows why I read Asimov in spite of the writing. As Asimov puts it himself, “I made up my mind long ago to follow one cardinal rule in all my writing—to be 'clear'. I have given up all thought of writing poetically or symbolically or experimentally, or in any of the other modes that might (if I were good enough) get me a Pulitzer prize.”


Yet, and this is something I need to think about more, something I need to discover more about, Asimov tells a story well. Yes, he has his “public booth” moments, but those are fairly rare—mostly because there’s often little in the way of chasing or fighting. Asimov writes dialogue and monologue, interspersed with sparsely narrated action. And he punctuates those typical scenes in his stories with action, but often has a hard time convincing the reader of the import of the action. It’s as if he thinks two or three phrases alone will set the reader on a new track, “What? I said ‘he was being followed now.’ After 30 pages of languid reflection, why isn’t me writing, ‘he is being followed’ enough to skyrocket the tension?” Tension is something to build, something to create and nurture. And Asimov isn’t great at it in any of the first three Foundation books. Yet I will still state that he tells a story well.


I’m trying to figure out why I think he tells a good story. The science fiction I like the best is that which explores characters and ideas. His dialogue explains the stories, and this helps focus his narratives on exploring ideas. So, I am finding that I personally tend to not mind Asimov’s poor writing because the ideas often carry his stories. His clear plots tend to ruminate on ideas more than human psychology. His characters are often two dimensional analogies for aspects or interpretations of the ideas. His window dressing, the worlds he creates, tend to act like his characters in being sketchy analogies of aspects of ideas. So, I think that’s probably why I find he tells good stories: the rigid focus on ideas. His dialogue, plots, characters, and worldbuilding all stay rigidly focused on the overall idea of the story. Everything is in service to the story—even to a fault in Asimov’s writing: there’s often a lack of applicable conclusions to draw from the stories because they are so farfetched that applying the Mule’s superpowers to day-to-day life or history is a stretch; the dialogue seems forced and doesn’t explain the samey-sounding characters so much as the story; the characters are typically caricatures and lack interest; and the worldbuilding leaves much to the imagination of the reader. But those are all the flipsides of the specific ways Asimov succeeds at telling stories.


There are only two memorable characters in the entire first three Foundation books: Arkady Darell and the Mule. The Mule, though driven by revenge for his mutated appearance forcing an outsider nature, is slightly inconsistent. He’s still a great example of treating the villain like a human character because all people are heroes to themselves. But Arkady seems consistent, strong, and a well-written character. She is headstrong, intelligent, curious, and trying to find her place in the world. She knows what she wants and Asimov allows that to enter the story. It’s refreshing to finally see characters in Asimov’s writing, and I hope there are more characters in his future stories.


The themes here center around paranoia and the already-mentioned Herodotus conclusion about softness. The whole narrative tries to resolve the softness problem, but the resolution comes about because a few people still retain their drive, despite the soft times of the Foundation at large. And instead of subverting the trope, the efforts of the Second Foundation reinforce the trope, hinting that Asimov believes Herodotus’ conclusion to be inescapable, but short-circuitable. These few hard people of the Foundation are hard because of their paranoia. Scared of the power of the Second Foundation, their cadre of pseudo-revolutionaries sparks this whole adventure tale. It’s difficult to determine what Asimov is trying to say about paranoia though—useful, but not to be trusted too far? Useful only when paired with accurate, intellectual analysis of reality?


Conclusion
“The Mule” and “Search by the Foundation” are the strongest stories of this series so far. Strong enough that I now want to go back and re-read the earlier tales and see if I missed something. “Search by the Mule” is a good tale, but aspects seem inconsequential to the story—why a frozen farming world? I think Asimov is a bad writer, and in my research have realized that he only ever did one draft, essentially, after imagining the ending, then the beginning, and exploring how to connect the two. His work could’ve really been improved by more revisions, but his storytelling can be superb. Having now read the Foundation Trilogy, or the first three books of the seven that Asimov wrote about the Foundation, I can’t really see the reasons for the one-off “Best Series of All Time” Hugo award, but it’s not a bad series. Maybe the later four books in the series will help me enjoy them because they come when Asimov is much more experienced as a writer. He has to be better later. He can’t be worse, can he?

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