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Coyote Jones Series #2
Furthest
Coyote Jones, agent for the Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service, had been sent to a planet so unimaginably distant from the rest of the Federation that it bore the descriptive name Furthest. His to find out why the total body of data about Furthest showed the world's inhabitants to be absolutely average down to the last decimal place. That data had to be false.
Jones was permitted to live on the planet, but the natives were so way of him that he could uncover nothing - until he chanced into a personal crisis faced by his young Furthest assistant. The boy's sister had been sentenced to Erasure, and he wanted Coyote Jones to take the fugitive girl in and hide her.
Against his judgment, Jones agreed, and thereby became a criminal on a world he didn't understand. But suddenly the answers began to come, and he found that this planet named Furthest held more strangeness than he could ever have imagined...
Jones was permitted to live on the planet, but the natives were so way of him that he could uncover nothing - until he chanced into a personal crisis faced by his young Furthest assistant. The boy's sister had been sentenced to Erasure, and he wanted Coyote Jones to take the fugitive girl in and hide her.
Against his judgment, Jones agreed, and thereby became a criminal on a world he didn't understand. But suddenly the answers began to come, and he found that this planet named Furthest held more strangeness than he could ever have imagined...
191 pages
First published January 1, 1971
98 people want to read
About the author
Suzette Haden Elgin
97 books185 followersSuzette Haden Elgin was an American science fiction author. She founded the Science Fiction Poetry Association, and is considered an important figure in the field of science fiction constructed languages. Elgin was also a linguist; she published non-fiction, of which the best-known is the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense series.
Born in 1936 in Missouri, Elgin attended the University of California, San Diego (UCSD) in the 1960s, and began writing science fiction in order to pay tuition. She has a Ph.D. in linguistics, and was the first UCSD student to ever write two dissertations (on English and Navajo). She created the engineered language Láadan for her Native Tongue science fiction series. A grammar and dictionary was published in 1985. She is a supporter of feminist science fiction, saying "women need to realize that SF is the only genre of literature in which it's possible for a writer to explore the question of what this world would be like if you could get rid of [X], where [X] is filled in with any of the multitude of real world facts that constrain and oppress women. Women need to treasure and support science fiction." [1]
In addition, she published works of shorter fiction. Overlying themes in her work include feminism, linguistics and the impact of language, and peaceful coexistence with nature. Many of her works also draw from her Ozark background and heritage.
Elgin became a professor at her alma mater's cross-town rival, San Diego State University (SDSU). She retired in 1980.
Born in 1936 in Missouri, Elgin attended the University of California, San Diego (UCSD) in the 1960s, and began writing science fiction in order to pay tuition. She has a Ph.D. in linguistics, and was the first UCSD student to ever write two dissertations (on English and Navajo). She created the engineered language Láadan for her Native Tongue science fiction series. A grammar and dictionary was published in 1985. She is a supporter of feminist science fiction, saying "women need to realize that SF is the only genre of literature in which it's possible for a writer to explore the question of what this world would be like if you could get rid of [X], where [X] is filled in with any of the multitude of real world facts that constrain and oppress women. Women need to treasure and support science fiction." [1]
In addition, she published works of shorter fiction. Overlying themes in her work include feminism, linguistics and the impact of language, and peaceful coexistence with nature. Many of her works also draw from her Ozark background and heritage.
Elgin became a professor at her alma mater's cross-town rival, San Diego State University (SDSU). She retired in 1980.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
August 9, 2025
Furthest is the second of a series of five books that began with The Communipaths in 1970. The hero is a spy named Coyote Jones who works for Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service; he's a telepath and folksinger yet something of a James Bond man's man. Furthest is an early feminist genre novel, though some of Elgin's satire wasn't recognized as such at the time. It's a very slow and introspective book yet it's packaged as an adventure novel; readers expecting blasters and religious zealotry found relationships and intelligent conversation instead. Elgin's simple theme was for tolerance and communication and equality, told with some good humor and clever quips but perhaps too much subtlety. The humor sometimes gets in the way of the serious message, and vice versa, and the ending is pretty abrupt. The alien culture is quite well and thoughtfully developed, and it's an enjoyable but not overwhelming read. Ace published it 1971 as part of their "Special" line with a nice Leo & Diane Dillon cover.
June 7, 2025
An exercise in society-building and narrative tedium, all revelations in this slim novel are completely revealed by dialogue and dialogue only. Besides an interesting opening on a rivulet terrain where transparent bats hover around an old disused biodome, 'Furthest' is void of any set-pieces. It's like a minimal Star Trek NG episode where the set-designers were on strike, and all the complexities of a universal dilemma were contained and solved in a dimly-lit conference suite. The universe is there, unfortunately Elgin does little to make us witness all its pulpy grandeur and richness. To be honest, Elgin does lay some wonderful groundwork for her politically-complicated universe, however she voids the reader of the full sense of wonder required for SF in general. Not sure if it's a common lazy mistake to force-feed the reader with the he said she said reveals, but this novel can't avoid its holes by being so earnest, so inherently peaceful that conflict and tension are completely absent.
Coyote Jones is sent from the Tri-Galactic Agency to examine the Furthest humanoid race and culture in preparation for the new ruler to be reinstated. The only problem is Furthest people are ambivalent and highly private, and while Coyote tries to get deeper into how this society functions, he falls in with a brother and sister who hide a secret to the culture of mating/queenship/mindpowers. Throw in dolphins, a cerebral 4th-dimension sex scene with a Mindwife, and a preciously galaxy-goo happy ending, I'm wary to recommend this to other fans of anthropological space opera.
Fair.
Coyote Jones is sent from the Tri-Galactic Agency to examine the Furthest humanoid race and culture in preparation for the new ruler to be reinstated. The only problem is Furthest people are ambivalent and highly private, and while Coyote tries to get deeper into how this society functions, he falls in with a brother and sister who hide a secret to the culture of mating/queenship/mindpowers. Throw in dolphins, a cerebral 4th-dimension sex scene with a Mindwife, and a preciously galaxy-goo happy ending, I'm wary to recommend this to other fans of anthropological space opera.
Fair.
June 7, 2019
I've never actually seen that cover, but that's Bess all right. Anyone who's read Furthest in the omnibus edition would know her anywhere. Bess is a psychically gifted woman, a "mindwife" whose profession is telepathically projecting illusions of mind-blowing sex to men she doesn't have to touch, who has--whose entire planet has--a secret. In this novel Coyote Jones, the reluctant spy on rogue telepaths, is sent to her planet to find out what that secret is.
One thing some readers hate about this whole series is that, as humanity evolves telepathic powers, it's evolving away from the idea of romantic love, which everyone now recognizes as a sort of mental illness people usually suffer in their early teens. Coyote has a solid relationship, not a marriage but a working partnership, with a good woman called Tzana Kai, of whom readers never see much in the novels. Tzana Kai is so profoundly nice that Coyote doesn't think twice about trusting her to adopt a child he has with another woman. But their friendship is so far from being Romantic Love that Coyote can also trust his psychic partner to understand, even share, his feelings when he has mind-blowing sex with Bess. What happens both during and after that episode causes him to feel Romantic Love for Bess for years afterward. Tzana Kai understands. I never asked Elgin (a long-term pen friend) whether she intended this to show that, in a mostly nonsexist future, in some ways women were still oppressed, or that women had achieved liberation from fear of betrayal in Romantic Love. I suspect the latter. Many women have read it as the former.
Of all the fiction Elgin ever wrote, this one has the most explicit sex--a full-sized paragraph of metaphoric detail. Male readers accused her of letting a man write that scene. Duh...she'd been married, widowed, and remarried before writing it. She'd had two men to ask.
Apart from the sex, there's enough philosophy, psychology, linguistics, and contemporary politics to satisfy the "serious" science fiction reader, in this book, and then some. I'm not sure I would have liked it so much if I hadn't read later volumes first...but I really, really liked it. So will other serious readers, especially if they like the other four books about Coyote and the three books of what started out as a separate series that tied into the last one. Furthest is, however, the only book in this series that I would expect to appeal to less serious science fiction readers...and I expect it'd be too long, complex, and challenging to satisfy them.
(Add read dates...meh. I found the first three Coyote Jones books some time around 1990, having been sucked into both series in 1982, but I own a lot of books that I first read enough years ago that I don't remember which year.)
One thing some readers hate about this whole series is that, as humanity evolves telepathic powers, it's evolving away from the idea of romantic love, which everyone now recognizes as a sort of mental illness people usually suffer in their early teens. Coyote has a solid relationship, not a marriage but a working partnership, with a good woman called Tzana Kai, of whom readers never see much in the novels. Tzana Kai is so profoundly nice that Coyote doesn't think twice about trusting her to adopt a child he has with another woman. But their friendship is so far from being Romantic Love that Coyote can also trust his psychic partner to understand, even share, his feelings when he has mind-blowing sex with Bess. What happens both during and after that episode causes him to feel Romantic Love for Bess for years afterward. Tzana Kai understands. I never asked Elgin (a long-term pen friend) whether she intended this to show that, in a mostly nonsexist future, in some ways women were still oppressed, or that women had achieved liberation from fear of betrayal in Romantic Love. I suspect the latter. Many women have read it as the former.
Of all the fiction Elgin ever wrote, this one has the most explicit sex--a full-sized paragraph of metaphoric detail. Male readers accused her of letting a man write that scene. Duh...she'd been married, widowed, and remarried before writing it. She'd had two men to ask.
Apart from the sex, there's enough philosophy, psychology, linguistics, and contemporary politics to satisfy the "serious" science fiction reader, in this book, and then some. I'm not sure I would have liked it so much if I hadn't read later volumes first...but I really, really liked it. So will other serious readers, especially if they like the other four books about Coyote and the three books of what started out as a separate series that tied into the last one. Furthest is, however, the only book in this series that I would expect to appeal to less serious science fiction readers...and I expect it'd be too long, complex, and challenging to satisfy them.
(Add read dates...meh. I found the first three Coyote Jones books some time around 1990, having been sucked into both series in 1982, but I own a lot of books that I first read enough years ago that I don't remember which year.)
February 4, 2025
2025 Book #7:
Furthest (1971) by Suzette Haden Elgin
An effective little book of feminist SF from the heyday of the movement. Furthest tells the story of Coyote Jones, a folk-singing telepath (!) who – because of a particular chain of political events – is sent undercover to the titular planet in order to investigate the mysterious culture of the Furthesters. The novel is essentially a long build-up to the revelation of how this culture is organized and why it has been so secretive (and I wouldn’t want to spoil the details of that). I really enjoyed the first half of Furthest. Coyote is an engaging and somewhat snarky character, but he’s an outsider on this world. Consequently, his values come into conflict with those of the Furthesters, and he must figure out how to strike a balance between them. In other words, this has all the hallmarks of great anthropological SF. However, once the main mystery is solved, the second half of the novel resorts to a continuous flow of info-dumps. These are contrived so as to make sense in the narrative, but it still feels like the novel loses its footing here. Despite this, I think Furthest is ultimately a worthwhile, thought-provoking novel that explores themes of gender, relationships, and cultural isolation. Elgin writes in a straightforward, wry, and occasionally lyrical style that always kept my attention. As a final note, Elgin’s novel does something that I’ve noticed in some other feminist SF writing from this era (I’m thinking of works by Le Guin, Charnas, and Tiptree, among others): it presents a thematically feminist narrative through the perspective of a (moderately sympathetic) male protagonist. This seems to allow the themes to manifest all the more powerfully, for the beneficiary of patriarchy comes to understand the ways that such systems, by subjugating women, produce negative effects on men as well. (Perhaps the best example of this is Charnas’s Walk to the End of the World.) Maybe these narrative choices were made for pragmatic readership reasons (most SF of the time being read by men), but at the same time they effectively point up the dialectical contradictions inherent in such ideologies of inequality. (4/5)
Furthest (1971) by Suzette Haden Elgin
An effective little book of feminist SF from the heyday of the movement. Furthest tells the story of Coyote Jones, a folk-singing telepath (!) who – because of a particular chain of political events – is sent undercover to the titular planet in order to investigate the mysterious culture of the Furthesters. The novel is essentially a long build-up to the revelation of how this culture is organized and why it has been so secretive (and I wouldn’t want to spoil the details of that). I really enjoyed the first half of Furthest. Coyote is an engaging and somewhat snarky character, but he’s an outsider on this world. Consequently, his values come into conflict with those of the Furthesters, and he must figure out how to strike a balance between them. In other words, this has all the hallmarks of great anthropological SF. However, once the main mystery is solved, the second half of the novel resorts to a continuous flow of info-dumps. These are contrived so as to make sense in the narrative, but it still feels like the novel loses its footing here. Despite this, I think Furthest is ultimately a worthwhile, thought-provoking novel that explores themes of gender, relationships, and cultural isolation. Elgin writes in a straightforward, wry, and occasionally lyrical style that always kept my attention. As a final note, Elgin’s novel does something that I’ve noticed in some other feminist SF writing from this era (I’m thinking of works by Le Guin, Charnas, and Tiptree, among others): it presents a thematically feminist narrative through the perspective of a (moderately sympathetic) male protagonist. This seems to allow the themes to manifest all the more powerfully, for the beneficiary of patriarchy comes to understand the ways that such systems, by subjugating women, produce negative effects on men as well. (Perhaps the best example of this is Charnas’s Walk to the End of the World.) Maybe these narrative choices were made for pragmatic readership reasons (most SF of the time being read by men), but at the same time they effectively point up the dialectical contradictions inherent in such ideologies of inequality. (4/5)
July 13, 2017
I saw the cover and had to take this from the sharing shelf at my gym. I really love little-known, pulpy little mass market sci-fi books with great covers from the 50s through the 70s (see
Time Tunnel
,
Forerunner Foray
, and
The Fury Out of Time
), and this one didn't let me down. I read it as a quick palate cleanser after a long and intense book.
At first, it was hard to believe this was written by a woman, since it felt like the author wrote the swingin' sexy, back-talkin', satisfy-four-women-in-one-night male protagonist Coyote Jones as a deluded self-portrait. Yes, his name is Coyote Jones and he's an agent for the Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service (a spy) posing as a folk musician. The set up belies the quality of the book. The plot is interesting and without giving too much away, deals non-gratuitously with the suppression of freedom and information, and women's roles in fundamentalist religions. The overall writing did not stand out to me, but some of the chapter introductions (attributed to fictional sources, which I've omitted here) were kind of brilliant. The writer proved her intelligence and wit in these small, almost ignorable pieces, and it was these that elevated the book to four stars for me. Without them, it would have been a 3-star book at most.
Chapter 1: "A secret is like a small child; the more you do for it, the more of a nuisance it becomes. Before you take upon yourself such a burden, consider well-- the chances are that unless you take elaborate pains to conceal something it will never be noticed."
Chapter 7: "Since the only real function of officials is to serve as repositories for mail -- a sort of 'X Marks The Spot' function -- we have no such creatures within our clusters. We have found that there is nothing at all that an official can do that cannot be done by a mailbox with equal skill."
Chapter 9: "Frustration is a wholesome part of education, and a necessary one, but it must be the frustration of not knowing what one is eager to know. The child for whom all the answers are always PROVIDED may well develop the ability to memorize, but unless he is very unusual he will never learn how to think. Education by spoon-feeding is less trouble for the adults involved, but useless and destructive for the learning child. Teaching must be a matter ALLOWING -- not of forcing -- a child to learn."
Chapter 10: "To have proved yourself able to defend your property is to have proved not that you are a man, but that you are a slave."
Chapter 12: "No matter how inconvenient or unpleasant an illusion may be, if a man has chosen it himself and held it long enough, if he has built it up in sufficient detail and become accustomed to taking it into account upon every occasion, it will become precious to him and he will fight to maintain it in preference to even a pleasant truth. This is because it will have become one of the anchoring points of his mind, like the points which anchor the web of a spider, and to displace it will cause a shift in equilibrium for which painful compensation must be made. This is only a form of self-defense; nonetheless it inhibits growth."
Chapter 13: "The vast majority of activities which take upon themselves the name 'revolution' are not revolution at all; they're just foreplay."
Chapter 15: "There is only one sort of love that has any value, and that is the love that leaves the beloved free. All the rest is sickness."
At first, it was hard to believe this was written by a woman, since it felt like the author wrote the swingin' sexy, back-talkin', satisfy-four-women-in-one-night male protagonist Coyote Jones as a deluded self-portrait. Yes, his name is Coyote Jones and he's an agent for the Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service (a spy) posing as a folk musician. The set up belies the quality of the book. The plot is interesting and without giving too much away, deals non-gratuitously with the suppression of freedom and information, and women's roles in fundamentalist religions. The overall writing did not stand out to me, but some of the chapter introductions (attributed to fictional sources, which I've omitted here) were kind of brilliant. The writer proved her intelligence and wit in these small, almost ignorable pieces, and it was these that elevated the book to four stars for me. Without them, it would have been a 3-star book at most.
Chapter 1: "A secret is like a small child; the more you do for it, the more of a nuisance it becomes. Before you take upon yourself such a burden, consider well-- the chances are that unless you take elaborate pains to conceal something it will never be noticed."
Chapter 7: "Since the only real function of officials is to serve as repositories for mail -- a sort of 'X Marks The Spot' function -- we have no such creatures within our clusters. We have found that there is nothing at all that an official can do that cannot be done by a mailbox with equal skill."
Chapter 9: "Frustration is a wholesome part of education, and a necessary one, but it must be the frustration of not knowing what one is eager to know. The child for whom all the answers are always PROVIDED may well develop the ability to memorize, but unless he is very unusual he will never learn how to think. Education by spoon-feeding is less trouble for the adults involved, but useless and destructive for the learning child. Teaching must be a matter ALLOWING -- not of forcing -- a child to learn."
Chapter 10: "To have proved yourself able to defend your property is to have proved not that you are a man, but that you are a slave."
Chapter 12: "No matter how inconvenient or unpleasant an illusion may be, if a man has chosen it himself and held it long enough, if he has built it up in sufficient detail and become accustomed to taking it into account upon every occasion, it will become precious to him and he will fight to maintain it in preference to even a pleasant truth. This is because it will have become one of the anchoring points of his mind, like the points which anchor the web of a spider, and to displace it will cause a shift in equilibrium for which painful compensation must be made. This is only a form of self-defense; nonetheless it inhibits growth."
Chapter 13: "The vast majority of activities which take upon themselves the name 'revolution' are not revolution at all; they're just foreplay."
Chapter 15: "There is only one sort of love that has any value, and that is the love that leaves the beloved free. All the rest is sickness."
June 1, 2021
I'm having a hard time separating the narrator's perspective from the views of the author. In an incredibly low-key way the story builds to the answer of what the planet Furthest is really hiding, and this is actually in two parts. The first is that the inhabitants are no longer baseline human, and the second is that the repressive patriarchal society, propped up by conservative religion, contains an underclass of whose training from youth can only be described as "sickening" and whose role is primarily chattel to powerful men, with all the baggage that The Handmaid's Tale deals with in more dystopic detail.
It's the first of these that gets Coyote Jones's attention, after hanging a lampshade on the second. That is, he recognizes the barbarity of "mindwives" but after a moment of "no that's not right" this whole aspect is subsumed by the other reveal, of the extent of the Furthester deception and the real nature of the people.
Elgin trusts the reader to follow--wait, what about the people who are actually being repressed here, and what about the galactic society and the secret agent who are now complicit?--but the message is low-key and buried in other matters. And frankly the strength of Bess the female lead hides the fact that based on the description of her training she must be both traumatized and psychologically injured. Elgin's use of the sub-aware Coyote Jones is a brave choice and one that introduces a protagonist that is odious in hindsight, and a supposedly enlightened, egalitarian galactic society willing to tolerate oppression.
It's the first of these that gets Coyote Jones's attention, after hanging a lampshade on the second. That is, he recognizes the barbarity of "mindwives" but after a moment of "no that's not right" this whole aspect is subsumed by the other reveal, of the extent of the Furthester deception and the real nature of the people.
Elgin trusts the reader to follow--wait, what about the people who are actually being repressed here, and what about the galactic society and the secret agent who are now complicit?--but the message is low-key and buried in other matters. And frankly the strength of Bess the female lead hides the fact that based on the description of her training she must be both traumatized and psychologically injured. Elgin's use of the sub-aware Coyote Jones is a brave choice and one that introduces a protagonist that is odious in hindsight, and a supposedly enlightened, egalitarian galactic society willing to tolerate oppression.
October 23, 2022
A flawed but thoughtful and effective work of Feminist Science Fiction.
The pacing is a bit strange, especially the ending which is incredibly rushed to the point that I assume it must have been an editor's call, and it suffers from a few genre pitfalls of the era especially where character is concerned, but the themes of fearmongering through isolationism, and bodily autonomy under a patriarchal religious autocracy, are well fleshed out and frustratingly relevant.
The world-building was very considered and compelling, if not quite on par with the closest comparable work I could think of, Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
Both feature a representative from a large galactic governmental body sent to a distant planet to set up/improve relations, both hinge on the culture clash of deeply-held social belief and, ultimately, gender roles (or the lack thereof in Le Guin's case).
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
The biggest misses for me were
If you liked the Le Guin, you will probably enjoy this as a pulpier, looser cousin. Just don't go in with any deep literary expectations and be prepared for it to get a bit weird and cheesy at times.
I'd give it a 6.5/10 but as these ratings are all out of 5, I think 3 is more accurate.
The pacing is a bit strange, especially the ending which is incredibly rushed to the point that I assume it must have been an editor's call, and it suffers from a few genre pitfalls of the era especially where character is concerned, but the themes of fearmongering through isolationism, and bodily autonomy under a patriarchal religious autocracy, are well fleshed out and frustratingly relevant.
The world-building was very considered and compelling, if not quite on par with the closest comparable work I could think of, Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
Both feature a representative from a large galactic governmental body sent to a distant planet to set up/improve relations, both hinge on the culture clash of deeply-held social belief and, ultimately, gender roles (or the lack thereof in Le Guin's case).
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
The biggest misses for me were
If you liked the Le Guin, you will probably enjoy this as a pulpier, looser cousin. Just don't go in with any deep literary expectations and be prepared for it to get a bit weird and cheesy at times.
I'd give it a 6.5/10 but as these ratings are all out of 5, I think 3 is more accurate.
March 26, 2025
Coyote Jones, agent for the Tri-Galactic Intelligence Service, had been sent to a planet so unimaginably distant from the rest of the Federation that it bore the descriptive name Furthest. His to find out why the total body of data about Furthest showed the world's inhabitants to be absolutely average down to the last decimal place. That data had to be false.
Jones was permitted to live on the planet, but the natives were so way of him that he could uncover nothing - until he chanced into a personal crisis faced by his young Furthest assistant. The boy's sister had been sentenced to Erasure, and he wanted Coyote Jones to take the fugitive girl in and hide her.
Against his judgment, Jones agreed, and thereby became a criminal on a world he didn't understand. But suddenly the answers began to come, and he found that this planet named Furthest held more strangeness than he could ever have imagined...
Jones was permitted to live on the planet, but the natives were so way of him that he could uncover nothing - until he chanced into a personal crisis faced by his young Furthest assistant. The boy's sister had been sentenced to Erasure, and he wanted Coyote Jones to take the fugitive girl in and hide her.
Against his judgment, Jones agreed, and thereby became a criminal on a world he didn't understand. But suddenly the answers began to come, and he found that this planet named Furthest held more strangeness than he could ever have imagined...
January 27, 2021
Elgin plots another oblique angle on narrative, this one involving a distant world where human colonists interbred with amphibious indiginies, and subsequently hid themselves from the rest of humanity out of fear of religious persecution. Oh, and out of fear the rest of the three galaxies would take away their sex slaves.
It's odd the way Elgin mixes such dark material with such frothy genre confectionery. The jokey parody is perhaps meant as the sugar around the pill of indoctrination. She doesn't pull off the trick, at least not on me half a century later. It's just...odd.
It's odd the way Elgin mixes such dark material with such frothy genre confectionery. The jokey parody is perhaps meant as the sugar around the pill of indoctrination. She doesn't pull off the trick, at least not on me half a century later. It's just...odd.
September 19, 2019
It was fine. One thing that bugs me about it is the corny nature of the main character's sexuality. In a chapter, he was so sexually frustrated but wouldn't resort to masturbation. It was necessary to drive the plot forward, I suppose, but. Like I dunno. I'm asexual none of this stuff makes sense to me. But by the end of the book I did feel sad and I did wonder what was going to happen next.
September 7, 2021
Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...
"Coyote Jones arrives on the planet Furthest, a world of water with “spangled life” that danced and pulsed with “red and green and gold and deep soft blue” (7), to learn more about the descendants of a [..]"
"Coyote Jones arrives on the planet Furthest, a world of water with “spangled life” that danced and pulsed with “red and green and gold and deep soft blue” (7), to learn more about the descendants of a [..]"
April 21, 2020
When Ambassador/problem-solver/folksinger Coyote Jones agrees to grant asylum to a young woman sentenced to erasure by the planet Furthest's government, he has no idea of the difficulties he'll face.
December 20, 2020
A smart, provocative, very Seventies sci-fi novel of ideas, with some dated elements and a rushed ending. Worth seeking out for fans of Le Guin and Delany. 3.5 stars.
September 12, 2021
Tepid but entertaining.
July 30, 2025
the positive ratings are from men
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews