Lord of Light

Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light is a triumph, and proof that science fiction can be much more than just description of gadgetry. It features cynical interplay of terrestrial religions on an alien planet after colonization by a space ark. The first colonists to awaken subdue the world, and after a period of time, set themselves up as members of the Hindu Pantheon, through both technological and supernatural means. The other passengers on the ark are awakened more gradually, and are placed in a rigid caste system (are there any flexible caste systems?). With reincarnation (through technology) a reality, the populace is held in check with a form of Hinduism that is literally true -- their station upon rebirth is determined by the deeds and thoughts of their past life, and the gods are manifest in the world.

Kurt Vonnegut opens Cat's Cradle with "Anybody unable to understand how a useful religion can be founded on lies will not understand this book either. So be it." Regardless of the original veracity of Hinduism, Lord of Light is set in a world where much of it is literally true -- so when a member of the First chooses to oppose the system, what better path than to sow the seeds of Buddhism, especially given how the two religions have intersected in India in the past? (Later in the book, the would-be Buddha concedes that he had considered Christianity and Islam, but "crucifixion hurts!", and Islam and Hinduism didn't mesh all that well in the original India) Sam, as he prefers to be called, takes Vonnegut to heart -- "He never claimed to be a god. But then, he never claimed not to be a god."

Lord of Light has an odd narrative structure -- the novel opens in its present day, then tells the back story in a flashback, which lasts more than half of the novel, and from which we emerge mid-paragraph. While jarring, it's quite effective, as it gives the sensation of being woken from a dream, which is appropriate, given the experience of one of the characters at the beginning of the novel.

One of the characteristics of Zelazny's work that I enjoy the most is his use of humor. Early in the novel, there's one of my favorite descriptions of life native to an alien planet in all of sci-fi:

"Then the one called Raltariki is really a demon?" asked Tak.
"Yes, and no," said Yama, "If by 'demon' you mean a malefic, supernatural creature, possessed of great powers, life span and the ability to temporarily assume virtually any shape, then the answer is no. This is the generally accepted definition, but it is untrue in one respect."
"Oh? And what may that be?"
"It is not a supernatural creature."
"But it is all those other things?"
"Yes."

Not that the focus of Lord of Light is wordplay, but it features such dialogue throughout the text, which helps make the characters more believable -- they're literally trying to overthrow Heaven, which in the hands of a less capable author, could lend itself to a heavy gravity. Zelazny is comparable to Bradbury in this respect -- he's descriptive (this novel contains one of the most well choreographed fight scenes I've ever read) without being overbearing. Essentially the only complaint I can make is the ending, which, given the material, is oddly appropriate.