David Gerrold's new novel Jumping Off the Planet (Tor, $19.95) shares all the characteristics of the science fiction "boys' books" of the 1950s, including a tour of a classic SF concept and a strong coming of age story.

However, Gerrold also slyly introduces elements that would never have been allowed 50 years ago -- begging the question of whether fart jokes and a gay romance are what qualify an SF book for membership in the 2000s.

Up the long ladder

Classic SF concepts and 21st-century social realities blend and fuse throughout the book.

In the future, we have built a space elevator known as "the beanstalk" -- a familiar bit of science fiction technology -- but 13-year-old protagonist Charles Dingillian is a child of divorce.

Charles and his two brothers are on their annual month of visitation with their father when he suggests -- seemingly out of the blue -- "Let's go to the moon."

Even in its placement as the opening line of the novel, that kind of casually grand suggestion is right out of the 1950s juveniles.

So is the rest of the plot: Charles and his brothers journey to Ecuador with their father, tour the beanstalk's earthbound end and take a day-long journey to a station in geosynchonous orbit.

Along the way, Gerrold takes every opportunity he can to examine and explain the physical workings of this gigantic engineering accomplishment. This results in vast tracts of exposition, which is well-presented but may tax the interest of a reader who doesn't care how such a structure would work.

The journey also provides ample time for Charles to struggle with his relationship with his family.

He's never forgiven his father for walking out on his mother, and his techno-geek elder brother and spoiled younger brother aren't making the reconciliation process any easier.

True to the structure of juveniles, there's also a suspense element to keep the plot moving between tours and family fights.

Charles' father is secretly traveling as a courier for a supernational company, and powerful interests want to make sure Max Dingillian doesn't make his delivery.

"People don't come up here looking for more of the ordinary, they come up here because they want to get away from the ordinary. That's what space represents, the chance at an extraordinary life."
     

Leaving home

The delivery pales in importance, though, to Mr. Dingillian's plans for his family. As it turns out, Max is fed up with Earth and has signed a contract to emigrate to a colony world.

He'd like to take his sons with him. Since Charles' mother won't give permission for the boys to go, this is technically kidnapping.

Max gives the boys the choice to stay or go as they journey up the beanstalk, forcing Charles to choose between life with his father or his mother. He doesn't like either choice much.

Complications ensue as the Dingillians are pursued by both the supernationals and the boys' mother, resulting in not only a climactic escape attempt through the innards of Geosynchonous Station but a courtroom custody showdown.

Along the way, Charles encounters other passengers, learns that life on Earth is beginning a final collapse due to population pressure, and watches his older brother become an independent adult.

Old-fashioned writing with modern fart jokes

Structurally, Jumping Off the Planet consciously follows the model of classic 1950s juveniles.

What makes the book modern are the trappings.

The science and engineering are accurate, of course, but the overpopulated Earth also adds a dark tone to the story.

Moreover, Gerrold's kid characters would have made Heinlein juvenile editor Alice Dalgliesh fall over in a dead faint.

Charles worries about growing pubic hair, while his younger brother "Stinky" wets himself and programs a robotic monkey to fart on command. His older brother Douglas not only has sex but has it with another man.

While all these events affect the story, they're all treated as normal, everyday things -- just part of life in the near future. In that, they're not so different from the technologically advanced makeup or household equipment Heinlein used to describe his futures.

As a result, Jumping Off the Planet ultimately feels more old-fashioned than modern. The essential plot elements are no different than they would have been 50 years ago, and even the climactic divorce proceedings have a precedent in 1954's The Star Beast.

That's not a bad thing. But it will be interesting to see whether this style of story still appeals to an audience brought up on video games and action movie pyrotechnics.