The Confederation Universe:
An Essay By Peter F. Hamilton
Why? The most frequently asked question of them all. Why did you write
the Night's Dawn?
Personally I think it's the polite way of asking: what the hell were you
thinking of?
The Reality Dysfunction comes out as 1221 pages in paperback form, about
the most uncommercial length you can write. The Neutronium Alchemist is
1259 pages. As I write this, the week before publication of The Naked
God in hardback, Macmillan doesn't even know if it's possible to fit The
Naked God into a single paperback, it's roughly 20% larger than Neutronium
Alchemist. That comes to about 1.2 million words to get through. There
are dozens of characters for the reader to keep track of by the time you
do reach the end of The Naked God, and that's just principal characters.
Different worlds and habitats to remember, histories… It's unashamed Space
Opera. Worse, it has 'horror elements' erupting into the story.
In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea to write it at all. Good thing authors
know so little about the practicalities of publishing.
Okay, so why did I write it. The simple answer is, I had an idea. That's
the second most frequently asked question, for all SF authors, where do
you get your wacky ideas from. We can't answer, of course, ideas don't
have an origin, at least not in my brain. Though I do favour Eric Brown's
theory that there's actually a little old lady in Leeds who runs a postal
order service for SF writers, send her a fiver and she'll send you an
idea. Trouble is, Eric never gives anyone her address.
So- I had the idea. The possessed coming back. After that it's a simple
process of extrapolation. Why do they come back? There's a line in the
trilogy about devil worshipers praying for centuries for Lucifer to appear,
and nothing much seems to have happened. So in this case there has to
be another factor introduced, an alien factor. The Ly-cilph were born.
Next, with the basic premise established, the exponential curve of possession
sweeping across entire populations, I had to decide what kind of society
would stand a chance against such an incursion. It didn't take a lot of
thought before I settled on the traditional vast interstellar civilisation
that seems to be the defining qualification of Space Opera. Besides, I've
always had a very soft spot for the genre. I started reading EE Doc Smith's
Lensman series when I was thirteen. It's the perfect age to be swept away
by starships armed with planetbuster weapons, really black-hearted villains,
heroic space pilots, and the Galactic Patrol. To the point at which I
absolutely refuse to read the Doc today, I'm way too cynical these days,
I'll just stay with the memories of good times.
As well as nostalgia, the galaxy-wide civilisation of humans equipped
with supertechnology, is the perfect widescreen broadband spectacle to
let an author's imagination loose in. There are few limits in such a field.
Those I found come from my own memory and feeling. The 'old' style space
operas tended to be fairly black and white affairs, a straight fight between
good and evil. They also tended to concentrate on the hero and villain
at the expense of everyone else. Fine back in the time Lensman was written,
but the genre as a whole has moved on a bit since then. I wanted to tell
the story in a way which illustrated what happens to the archetype little
man, by which I mean what happens to society as a whole after such a gigantic
physical and spiritual conflict. This is the notion which was the start
of my downfall.
The example
I always give is The Battle Of Britain. A conflict which saw the warrior
heroes of both countries battling it out for supremacy in the most sophisticated
technology of the era. Theirs is a fantastic story, full of heroism and
struggle and sacrifice. All very well, but there were hundreds of thousands
of people who lived underneath the dogfights in the sky, whose lives were
going to undergo monumental change because of the conflict (whoever won).
Ultimately what happens to them i.e. society as a whole, is more interesting.
It's the reason I shaped the political structure of the Confederation
the way I did. At a point near the end of Naked God, I describe the Confederation
as a vast middle class estate. In other words, very comfortable for the
majority. So comfortable in fact, that its stability is guaranteed. However
there's a very fine dividing line between stable and stagnant. Which is
where the example of Norfolk comes in. Norfolk is the Confederation in
extremis, where the whole social structure is rigid, yet there's little
movement for change, so little that any call for change is regarded as
revolution. The reason for this is the majority being content with its
circumstances, or rather believing it is. The only way a society as large
and entrenched as the Confederation can change is when change is forced
upon it by an outside agency. Only in those circumstances will the old
barriers break down, allowing the Kulu Kingdom to ally with the Edenists.
If it survives its encounter with the possessed, and the truth of souls,
the Confederation will emerge changed. There could be no other outcome.
In this case, the principal heroes and villains have their roles to play,
but it is the result of those roles, the influence exerted on everyone
else which is the important factor. Which is where the Skibbows, and others
come in. The Skibbow family was originally intended just to show the effects
of the outbreak of possession on an ordinary group of people. Then the
classic author problem of characters taking over occurred. I couldn't
kill off Gerald, what was happening to him was just too interesting. It
happened a lot of times, to a lot of people. My original chapter notes
had Louise travelling to Earth all by herself. That would have meant Genevieve
being taken by the possessed way back at the start of Neutronium Alchemist.
For all she's an obnoxious brat, twelve year old girls don't deserve that,
so Louise got lumbered for the duration.
Which brings us to the characters, the last piece of the puzzle to be
completed. With the theme decided, the stage set, you then need people
to illustrate the story. Joshua, I simply couldn't resist. A Starship
Captain in capital letters, young, handsome, rich, lucky, adored by girls,
talented. What a prat. The trilogy was very nearly called Joshua's Progress
rather than Night's Dawn. He has to grow up, to learn to take responsibility
-a painful process for any of us. As to his surname, Bob Calvert was the
lead singer of Hawkwind when I went to see them back in the 70's (giving
my age away here), and I've never seen anyone with a stage presence quite
like him, before or since.
Quinn, well he was just plain fun to write. Someone without a single redeeming
feature, and all because he believes his world-view is not only right,
but the only possible one.
My favourite character has to be Louise. The simple reason is the way
she grows up; starting as a not quite air-head who wants to rebel but
doesn't know how or against what. Someone who has a mind open enough to
take in what she sees on her travels. Not by any means the epitome of
goodness to oppose Quinn, but definitely decent.
I became very fond of them all. After six an a half years it was a tremendous
relief to finish the trilogy. But at the same time, it was like waving
goodbye to friends you've met on holiday and had a good time with, knowing
that you probably won't see them again. At least not for quite a while.
PETER F. HAMILTON
September 29th 1999
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