Red Shirts: The Short Life of Ensign... [What was his name?]

Imagine checking your spaceship's food synthesizer on deck six, when suddenly a violent explosion rips apart the hull sucking out your frozen visage onto the void of space. 

Not the most glamourous way to go, for an ensign.

Every work of sci-fi needs a space battle, or a needlessly complex and dangerous away mission in which some poor—usually nameless—ensign dies. Horribly. Pointlessly. But what if all those low-ranked lives were real and actually meaningful? 

In Red Shirts they are. 

Meet ensign Andrew Dahl, a new upstart who just joined the Universal Union Capital Ship Intrepid. His station: xenobiology laboratory. All was right for this young cadet, until his laboratory crew vanished. Or hid to be exact. Why? Because two senior officers of the Intrepid just walked in with a quite improbable request. 

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If you ever watched cable TV sci-fi, you'll probably admit that a lot of the narrative seems to be quite implausible, sometimes even downright silly. Quirky technology, unscientific science, and a lot of messy skirmishes by supposed advanced civilizations. It's all super entertaining. It's also what makes Red Shirts such a hoot to read. 

In Red Shirts this wacky cable sci-fi narrative is imposed onto actual beings, but treats them as expendable extras. The characters are just regular Joe-workers trying to make it through away missions which seem to take away too many of their crew-mates. The result: hyper-reality doused in hilarity.

There's much to be taken from this surprisingly clever book: It's as we're allowed to peer behind scenes, to catch a glimpse at how professional crewmen live out their existence in deep space. It all seems grand and well, until the forced narrative physics start to control and twist the destiny of the entire Intrepid crew.

The writing is simple and crisp. Brief paragraphs. Fast sentences. Simple language. Mr. Scalzi's screen-writing prose really shows in pacing and scene development. The novel has that hook and pull quality of an episodic TV show. Although it's much more grimy, intimate and sexual than a weekly TV show. 

The characters and their reactions to the unreality around them is what makes this book for me: 

“It's messed up that the most rational explanation for what does go on on this ship is that a television show intrudes on our reality and warps it. But that's not even the worst thing.”

“Jesus Christ! if that's not the worst thing, what is?” 

“That as far as I can tell, it's not actually a very good show.” 

John Scalzi, the author of the book, has been a creative consultant on the Stargate: Universe franchise. It's no surprise that his book is sci-fi written for the fans by a fan. And the proof is in the script: witty, [im]probable and engaging; here's a man that knows his way around a starship deck—or a make believe deck, I should say.

Sorry I got to end this post, just remembered that I need to dispose of all my red shirts. There's too much plasma residue on 'em...