Wrath of the Lemming-men (Chronicles of Isambard Smith 3) [Paperback]

This is the third in Toby Frost's series of Space Captain Smith's comic adventures and maintains the high standards set by the two previous volumes. Unlike many 'comic novels' 'Wrath of the Lemming Men' (WotLM) is genuinely, laugh out loud funny. More importantly it is also clever, erudite and at times pretty exciting.

Toby Frost has again pulled off the difficuly trick of writing a book that pokes fun at numerous targets but never slips into outright parody or spoof. WotLM may take the mickey out of or send up subjects as diverse as Star Wars, Starship Troopers, any World War II movie made between 1946 and 1970, the Mitford Sisters (seriously), Predator and the Archers (yes, really) to name but a few, but all the jokes stem from and fit seemlessly into the book's plot. Nothing feels tacked on for the sake of it or wildly out of context. This isn't the literary equivalent of the Airplane movies or a Mel Brooks film. The universe Captain Smith and his friends move in may be ridiculous but it also makes logical, albeit often hilarious, sense.

This allows Frost to include some pretty decent action sequences (although he never forgets to chuck in a few gags here and there), plus some actual characterisation. Smith and his chums aren't simply gag machines. Smith, for all his outward priggishness and prudishness, is actually rather brave and competent and Carveth, the sex-android-turned-pilot, is rather endearing. Even Suruk, Smith's homicidal alien friend and Rhihanna, his hippyish love interest, have been given some additional depth over the course of three books.

The only area where WotLM doesn't quite measure up to the two previous books is the plot. The fact that there is an actual, proper plot rather that a string of gags is grounds for congratulation. Its just a pity that its so jumbled. At times during the book's middle section I actually found myself getting momentarily lost here and there as the narrative jumped at high speed from place to place. Its possible that Toby Frost has tried to cram too many ideas into WotLM and some of his flights of fancy could have been saved for future books.

Its a minor complaint however, and overall I would highly recommend WotLM to anyone who enjoys having their funny bone tickled. You don't even have to be a sci-fi fan to get most of the jokes

I'm pleased to say that Toby Frost shows no signs of waning powers in the third of his hilarious 'British Space Empire' novels. Sure, it's not quite as funny as 'God Emperor of Didcot', and there's the odd loose end, but then again, how many books are as funny as 'God Emperor of Didcot'?

What I liked about this one was that the author seemed to be getting into his characters more. Particularly Carveth, the sex-bot turned cowardly pilot / engineer, who is given a lot more coverage (which is good, because I've been fond of her since book one), with a number of scenes all of her own, including a hilarious confrontation with a Jane Austen-bot who has a thing for men in uniform. Also, Suruk the Slayer is becoming much more developed: now he's a full blown, three dimensional psychopath. And all the old favourites, like W and the insane commandos. Even 462 is becoming slightly less dislikable.

But of course, there are the wonderful jokes. The Yull (aka the Lemming Men of the title) have gods whose names are a hoot. We learn that Suruk's ancestors faked evidence to make it look as if they had built the pyramids so as to confuse foolish Earth-people. And we're told where the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs really came from. And there's always Tar'kha the Death Otter.

Anyway, what are you waiting for: buy it, and let's hope number four is as good.

You might call Isambard Smith the Anti-Flashman, though the covers at first seem similar. But look closely at that cover. Does Smith have a scantly clad woman draped around his leg? No, he's standing victorious over a dead foe. Proper.

Smith is about as different to Flashman as you can get. He's not a womanizer, a coward, or a bully for one (well, three) thing(s). About the only thing they have in common is a decent mustache. But Smith isn't a larger than life hero without flaws. Outside of a good fight he's downright awkward, especially around members of the opposite sex. But he also embodies everything we're meant to see in the British Space Empire - noble and refined, with its citizens carrying a stiff upper lip and not dealing with things like "feelings" in public. Dreadnought Diplomacy is alive and well. When one speaks of "civilizing" an alien culture, it refers to how the iron fist is used if talking sensibly to the silly buggers didn't work.

Smith's long time friend is a Morlock (or M'Lak) called Suruk the Slayer (Doom Purveyor, Son of Agshad Nine-Swords, Grandson of Urgar the Miffed). The M'Lak look vaguely like a thin version of the Predator but their personality better fits the "noble savage" archetype from classic adventure literature like King Solomon's Mines

To act as a foil to Smith and Suruk are two women: Pollyanna Carveth, a fugitive sex toy masquerading as the ship's pilot, and Rhianna Mitchell, a New-New Age hippie herbalist from the American Free States (think California). Despite the fact she is so unlike Smith - or perhaps because of it - he can't help but fall head over heals for her, nor can he help but blow almost every opportunity he has to score with her.

Like Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, parody and satire infuses much of the novels. Frost pokes fun at the Martians from H.G. Wells, the trenchcoats and sunglasses in The Matrix, and everything in between. While these parodies sometimes stick out as a little obvious in the first novel, by the second Frost has found his rhythm and the references are more seamlessly interwoven with the narrative.

The series is set in a future where the British Empire has risen once more, and with it an aesthetic throwback to late colonial England. The architecture is New Gothic, ships are designed with brasswork cogs and levers, and while the computers have normal displays, numbers are often displayed with rotating dials and a handy ticker-tape that prints out relevant information.

Wrath of the Lemming Men starts off with the death of Suruk's father by Colonel Vock of the Yull, a race of rodent warriors that incorporate everything suicidal about warrior cultures in history (there is as much World War I general in them as Kamakazi pilot). The Ghast have made an alliance with the Yull, and Colonel Vock, disgraced in battle, has been assigned to Ghast 462 to try and capture the mystical Vorl for their genetic experiments. Smith and his crew have to stop them, but to do so they have to figure out what the hell is going on first, which takes them in and out of several dangerous locations.

In all the Space Captain Smith novels you can be assured of lots of laughs, tons of movie and book references, awkward romance, and a jolly good kick up old Gertie's backside. I'm particularly impressed how Frost has avoided the temptation of making the battles like an episode of G.I. Joe (where lots of shots are fired yet nobody gets hurt) just because it's a comedy.

(I also reviewed the first and second books in this series, Space Captain Smith, and God Emperor of Didcot, so there is some overlap here)