Hothouse

Hothouse is considerably more pulpy and light than I had expected considering its reputation as a classic of the genre. While I did find many of the world building elements to be really interesting, (human adapted parasitic fungus, plants that can travel between worlds on webs of vegetation, humans mutating wings and discovering a more peaceful world on the moon..) there was a lot here I was let down by.

It's possible that Hothouse has more uses of the word "vegetable" than most cookbooks: fifty three times to be exact. In fact, many of the word choices for plant species names are downright childishly out of place. I think I understand what Aldiss was trying to infer, that humanity devolution has caused us to be unable to categorize the natural world in the same way we do now, but he could've represented that idea with something a tad less annoying than calling every other plant a 'chompy-bitey analog to some animal that no longer exists'. The characters too are one dimensional; I fear I can not recall a single one of their names, or that I cared a lick about any of them despite their dangerous circumstances. I also get the sense that Aldiss was sort of a sex pest with the way that he described the few women in the story: lots of breasts bouncing boobily around and the like.

Nevertheless, it's a snappy little story that never lingers too long on one particular thing, rarely mired in the negative elements for too long, and at points proves to be a fun if mindless adventure. The world building elements deserve better than what they are served with. If you can stomach the rest, those ideas are worth it by themselves, considering the time investment it asks of you. Still waiting for Aldiss to blow me away. He's on notice.