Norstrilia

A closer look at an other-wordly Aussie and his affection for cat-people.

Author: Cordwainer Smith

Of all the words that might be used to describe Norstrilia, the most appropriate adjective that comes to mind is odd. Oddness is somewhat par-for-the-course for science-fiction, where inventiveness and imaginative escapes to other worlds are the order of the day, but as someone with a relatively superficial knowledge of the genre, this was another story altogether.

The first oddity that seems almost obligatory to mention is the author himself: Cordwainer Smith is the pseudonym of a man who was apparently a high-ranking government official, academic and possible genius who moonlighted as a fiction writer. How comforting it might be to Americans of that era to know that an advisor to a US president during a critical period of history was inclined to spend a significant amount of time thinking and writing about buying planets and genetically modified humans I wouldn’t like to guess. Perhaps these are the types of conversations that go on behind closed doors.

The Story

The scene is set in Old North Australia, located, quite literally, on another plant (an idea perhaps not so outlandish to those who had observed the antipodean land from afar as a barren land of beer-drinking ruffians with an incomprehensible accent)[1]. The premise of the story seems, at times, a series of fairly unsubtle jabs at actual ‘Nortrilians’ (or those at the time of the books’ publication all the way back in 1975, at least): a group of hardy, simple, parochial farmers have managed to find themselves - after experiencing significant misfortune travelling across the galaxy - on another planet that is, in its dry, barren dullness, comparable to the Earth version.

In Norstrilia, sheep - enormous, sickly sheep - are the backbone of the society (and apparently a fair amount of its organic matter), that somehow produce a wonder drug (‘stroon’) that extends human life. The highly-sought-after product enriches the simple outback folk beyond their wildest dreams; so much so that they contrive to impose excessive tariffs on imported goods to deny themselves the material benefits of their great wealth and maintain their simple, dull existence.

The honest and simple folk of Norstrilia are also extremist eugenicists who euthanise their own kin who are judged defective (after a trial that, for unknown reasons, takes place in a caravan) to keep the numbers down. It’s just the way things are in Old North Australia, it seems.

Rod Mcban, the hero of the story, is a wealthy Norstrilian man-child who has already experienced several childhoods that he can’t very much remember, and who can’t spiek or hier properly. No, I have not spelled incorrectly; Norstrilians communicate primarily using a form of telepathy, and rarely practise verbal speech. Rod is the latest in the long line of Rod Mcbans (the one-hundred and fifty-first to be precise) and the inheritor of the Station of Doom, a large farm property.

Rod’s linguistic deficiencies put him in a pickle, as such differences are reason enough for a death sentence for the uncompromising Norstrilians. He is, for the third time apparently, about to be taken out the back and shot for his inability to keep his voice down (Rod is a ‘broadbander’ who can’t control his spieking and hiering), but is spared after a trial conducted by a panel of judges, in part by the efforts of Lord Redlady – a foreigner and outcast Lord of the Instrumentality. Rod then manages to enjoy a rare and short-lived celebration with his brethren.

His equanimity is interrupted after learning that he’s earned the ire of the ‘Onseck’ (Onseck is a corruption of the ancient and now meaningless term ‘Honorary Secretary’ – an example of the Norstrilians’ obedience to tradition), a man who, to his great misfortune, will only live a short life of around one-hundred and sixty years. Houghton Symes an old schoolmate of Rod’s who holds a grudge against Rod due to insecurity about his comparatively short lifespan.

Rod’s kindly neighbour (and recent judge) informs him that the Onseck conspires to put him on trial yet again and then kill him. The Onseck never really develops into a character of any substance in the story, but his presence is threatening enough for Rod consider an escape from his homeland.

After a short bout of emotional turmoil, Rod enlists the aid of his talking super-computer buried in an underground bunker that only he can access. The computer convinces our reluctant hero that his only option is to exploit the weaknesses in the galaxies’ overly-complex financial and regulatory system to bankrupt Norstrilia temporarily and buy Old Earth and most everything on it. This might seem a tall order for a simple farm boy, but fortunately his computer has war-gamed such a scenario more than a hundred million times. Phew!

After becoming the wealthiest man in the known universe, Rod is attacked by a giant sparrow and barely escapes with his life. Rod awakens in old ship commandeered by Lord Redlady and surrounded by his farmhands, family, and a giant who together hash out a plan to smuggle Rod to Old Earth.

Unfortunately for Rod, the only possible way to evade to clutches of various would-be assassins is for him to be dismembered by a monkey surgeon - who is actually a bird-human underperson - and stored in a small box for the duration of a journey to be shared with a number of doppelgangers. And you thought economy class was bad!

Fortunately, the various pieces which constitute the entity known as Rod (does the self survive being transformed into a meat tray?) are reunited on Mars where Rod undergoes further surgery to become a cat-man while his workman Eleanor is turned into him.

After being hooked up with a hot cat-wife called C’mell (an underperson), Rod travels to Earth, where he will presumably lord his wealth and status over the subjugated peoples of Old Earth. But, perhaps not surprisingly for a down-to-earth Norstrilian, Rod does not do this. Instead, he learns of the plight of the underpeople (who are led by a giant white bird-man whose son is the monkey doctor), falls in love with the lovely C’mell, and eventually, in a magnanimous act of charity, hands his ill-gotten gains over to the oppressed underpeople who live in an underground city before returning home.

What’s it all mean? Is it any good?

It’s an enjoyable enough read, and engaging enough to keep me interested until the end, though I suspect those who are not fans of the genre might not be inclined to stick with a story that does at times feel stretched beyond its correct measure - it felt like the premise didn’t justify the length, and I would have enjoyed it more had it been shorter.

As you might have gathered, it’s a bit of a rollercoaster, and it regularly lurches from one idea to another as the story progresses, at times feeling a little stitched together.

Some of the characters felt like plot devices (such as the ‘Onseck’), and there are a number of ‘flat’ characters like Eleanor and Lord Redlady that serve a purpose but are in themselves uninteresting.

I felt the various commentaries on aspects of our own world kept the story relatable and prevented it from being an overly-indulgent escape from reality (although this might appeal to others). Examples are the inequality and injustice inherent in the lives of the ‘underpeople’ who live underground and are oppressed by the humans, the complexity and centrality of a financial system that Rod and his computer pal exploit to take control of Earth, and the impossibility of love between two people of different backgrounds. The exploration of these themes is not heavy-handed, and they are examined in an agreeable and endearing way, which is a credit to the author.

Nortstrilia is eccentric, inconsistent, and a little too long, but if you enjoy sci-fi/fantasy and are interested in exploring a very unusual new world, Norstrilia might be for you.

[1] Scholars during the periods of antiquity and early modern history were slightly more generous in their estimates, having assumed the land only to lie at the end of the known world.