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I thought about being dead.
I could remember every silly detail of that silly last performance. I was dead at the end of it. But how could I think about being dead if I had died?
I thought about that, too, after I stopped having hysterics. There was plenty of time to think.
Call me Allen Carpentier. It's the name I wrote under, and someone will remember it. I was one of the best- known science- fiction writers in the world, and I had a lot of fans. My stories weren't the kind that win awards, but they entertained and I had written a lot of them. The fans all knew me. Someone ought to remember me.
It was the fans who killed me. At least, they let me do it. It's an old game. At science- fiction conventions the fans try to get their favorite author washed- out stinking drunk. Then they can go home and tell stories about how Allen Carpentier really tied one on and they were right there to see it. They add to the stories until legends are built around what writers do at conventions. It's all in fun. They really like me, and I like them.
I think I do. But the fans vote the Hugo Awards, and you have to be popular to win. I'd been nominated five times for awards and never won one, and I was out to make friends that year. Instead of hiding in a back booth with other writers I was at a fan party, drinking with a roomful of short ugly kids with pimples, tall serious Harvard types, girls with long stringy hair, half- pretty girls half- dressed to show it, and damn few people with good manners.
Remember the drinking party in War and Peace? Where one of the characters bets he can sit on a window ledge and drink a whole bottle of rum without touching the sides? I made the same bet.
The convention hotel was a big one, and the room was eight stories up. I climbed out and sat with my feet dangling against the smooth stone building. The smog had blown away, and Los Angeles was beautiful. Even with the energy shortage there were lights everywhere, moving rivers of lights on the freeways, blue glows from swimming pools near the hotel, a grid of light stretching out as far as I could see. Somewhere out there fireworks arched up and drifted down, but I don't know what they were celebrating.
They handed me the rum. "You're a real sport, Allen," said a middle- aged adolescent. He had acne and halitosis, but he published one of the biggest science- fiction newsletters around. He wouldn't have known a literary reference if it bit him on the nose. "Hey, that's a long way down.
" "Right. Beautiful night, isn't it? Arcturus up there, see it? Star with the largest proper motion. Moved a couple of degrees in the last three thousand years. Almost races along."
Carpentier's trivial last words: a meaningless lecture to people who not only knew it already, but had read it in my own work. I took the rum and tilted my head back to drink. It was like drinking flaming battery acid. There was no plea - sure in it. I'd regret this tomorrow. But the fans began to shout behind me, and that made me feel good until I saw why. Asimov had come in. Asimov wrote science articles and histories and straight novels and commentaries on the Bible and Byron and Shakespeare, and he turned out more material in a year than anyone else writes in a lifetime. I used to steal data and ideas from his columns. The fans were shouting for him, while I risked my neck to give them the biggest performance of all the drunken conventions of Allen Carpentier.
With nobody watching.
The bottle was half empty when my gag reflex cut in and spilled used rum into my nose and sinuses. I jackknifed forward to cough it out of my lungs and pitched right over. I don't think anyone saw me fall. It was an accident, a stupid accident caused by stupid drunkenness, and it was all the fans' fault anyway. They had no business letting me do it! And it was an accident, I know it was. I wasn't feeling that sorry for myself.
The city was still alive with lights. A big Roman candle burst with brilliant pinpoints of yellows and greens against the starry skies. The view was pleasant as I floated down the side of the hotel.
It seemed to take a long time to get to the bottom.
Excerpted from Inferno by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle.
Copyright © 1976 by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle.
Published in September 2008 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.
K_Dawn
Posted April 10, 2010
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Great idea of looking at today's sins in Dante's Infirno, but felt flat. Good gift for a Dante lover or for sparking conversation about modern sins, but Niven and Pournelle have much better books.
0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.Niven and Pournelle recreate Dante's Inferno for the 20th century. When science fiction author Allen Carpentier falls to his death, he doesn't believe in Heaven or Hell. He acts as Infernoland is an amusement park, made by the Builders. But, he tries to discover the purpose of Hell, with his guide, Benito. The duo meets some interesting people on their journey through Hell discovering the sins and its punishments for eternity.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.I loved this book and read it in one sitting. I really enjoyed the journey through hell and how the main character struggled between believing it was hell and the theme park Infernoland. The only problem I had however was the ending. I'm not going to give anything away but the ending kept me wanting more.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.CharlieRI
Posted February 16, 2009
I read this book when it first came out and really enjoyed it. I had read Dante's Inferno first and this book peaked my interest. It is a fun book to read and the different level of Hell makes it interesting. This book includes some people in hell who are not dead yet, but other than that I highly recommend it.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.JawstheCabbie
Posted December 9, 2008
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How come Hollywood hasn't discovered this book yet, especially after 30 plus years? Seems to me that if the project were turned over to a top notch filmaker (George Lucas, Steven Spielberg and Ron Howard come to mind) and if the filmaker were to put as much love and craftsmanship into the film as Niven and Pournell did when re-writing Dante's Inferno, and if they were as faithfull to the story line as Niven and Pournell were to the original by Dante Alighieri, they'd have a summer blockbuster on their hands that people would be talking about for decades! I keep envisioning Harrison Ford as Allen Carpentier, and the late Allen King would have been perfect as Benito Mussolini if only the film had been made while he was still alive and working. I just found out through this website about the sequel to "inferno", and I can't wait to read it!
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.Anonymous
Posted August 20, 2008
I first read this book thirty years ago. I was fourteen years old at the time, and once I finished reading it I rushed to my school library to read the three books of Dante's 'Divine Comedy'. 'Inferno' did not seem to catch on like many other Niven/Pournelle novels, but it made a lasting impression on me and I think this book is probably in a 'cult' status with other readers. After re-reading it again recently, even though it has some flaws that I did not notice thirty years ago (such as being based on a work of literature that views Hell from a strictly Catholic point of view--what other religion considers 'simony' to be an official sin? And in a Hell that probably houses billions of souls, how does one individual run across so many people he knew in life?), it is still a good read, and I found some of the 'updated' punishments, such as the ones reserved for those who destroy the environment, even more relevant today. I am looking forward to the coming sequel. My only hope is that the authors make this Hell a little more ecumenical.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.Anonymous
Posted September 2, 2008
Renowned popular science-fiction writer Allen Carpentier makes a bet with his fans at a Los Angeles convention. Right out of War and Peace, he sits on the windowsill of a room on the hotel¿s eighth floor drinking a bottle of rum. About half way through he gags and falls out the window to his death.-------------- When Allen lands after what seems like eternity to him, he is shocked that he can think though somehow he finds himself in some sort of brass bottle that he wonders if it is his coffin. Some big Italian who says to call him Benito frees him from his bottle prison and agrees to be his guide as Allen treks through the concentric circles of Hell.----------- This is more than a reprint of the 1976 homage to Dante as Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle apparently revised some of the journey to ¿set the stage¿ for a sequel next year. Accompanying Allen and Benito on the trek is fun as they meet an assortment of sinners through the circles. Obviously still filled with adulation of Dante, INFERNO is a modern day faster and hipper version.------------- Harriet Klausner
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Overview
After being thrown out the window of his luxury apartment, science fiction writer Allen Carpentier wakes to find himself at the gates of hell. Feeling he's landed in a great opportunity for a book, he attempts to follow Dante's road map. Determined to meet Satan himself, Carpentier treks through the Nine Layers of Hell led by Benito Mussolini, and encounters countless mental and physical tortures. As he struggles to escape, he's taken through new, puzzling, and outlandish versions of sin--recast for the present day.