The Golden Globe by John Varley
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This SF is well-nigh unclassifiable. For glorious reasons.

I mean, sure, you could call it a Heinleinesque romance in the vein of Double Star, or call it a thespian-ish thriller revolving an immensely popular child star turned murderer who has been on the run for 70 years, or you could call it the One Last Great Shakespearian tragedy.

I mean, damn, I'm caught thinking that this is as glorious as (and is) a great mashup of Alfred Bester's best book, The Demolished Man, and The Stainless Steel Rat, full of on-the-run acting, con-jobs, a little madness, and a LOT of Lear. :) And let's not forget to send Valentine across the full Solar System as we do it. :)

This book might rank up there with one of the best SF ever written. It breaks all molds and does its own glorious thing, never apologizing, never doing the expected thing. Flashbacks? Sure! Tons. Flashforwards? Fourth-wall breaking? Third-person, First-person, Second-Person? Yep. :) And you know what? It all works. :)

It has PERSONALITY. :)

Varley is one of the greats, indeed. Now, why the hell is this book relatively unknown? Sheesh. It's a travesty!!!

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