Rating: 
Summary: engrossing read
Review: I was pulled into the story with the first paragraph. The author dives right into the story without preamble. Tepper then gives out more and more needed information as you get deeper into the book. The examintion of male and female roles is fascinting but not one sided. I really enjoyed it. Give it a read... or two!
Rating:
Summary: hate her politics, love her books
Review: I'm not a militant environmentalist, and I don't think men are evil, so I frequently found Singer from the Sea (like many other Tepper books) totally infuriating. That aside, I also couldn't put it down. Tepper writes beautifully, builds intricate and fascinating worlds, and even if you (like me) disagree heartily with her sociopolitical agenda, the book is still worth the read. This was the first book of hers I read, and I give it four stars for getting me so hooked I read four more of her books within a week. I ditched the fifth star for making me so angry.
Rating: 
Summary: Who or what's killing the planet? (and all the women?)
Review: In Singer from the Sea, author Sherri Tepper creates a memorable heroine, Genevieve the Marchioness of Langmarsh. Who and what Genevieve is happens to be part of the mystery in this novel. Genevieve behaves admirably as the well-brought-up, educated noblewoman she is. But part of her operates at a level that even Genevieve has trouble connecting with. Sometimes she feels, and acts, like two different persons. People live a long, long time on Haven, that is, if they are of the ruling class and if they are men. Women don't seem to fare as well; a large number of the noblewomen simple fade like flowers after bearing a child or two-mostly succumbing to batfly fever. Only the drug P'Naki, whose production is strictly controlled on the island of Mahahm can save people from batfly fever. Unfortunately, pregnant or nursing women can't take it. There is another horrific problem looming; planet after planet suffers a mysterious ailment where all native life simply stops. Animals die, plants yellow and wilt. And people begin to suffer a strange affliction; they simply stop as if they were frozen in their tracks. Living, yet not alive. The very time the planet dies can be pinpointed to a night of fires in the sky. What is going on? And why? No one seems to know. Genevieve is called to serve at the court of the Lord Paramount, ruler of Haven. As she takes up her duties at court, she begins to uncover secrets hidden there, and also begins to uncover what and who she is. And she also begins to discover the true secret of P'Naki. And when she learns more about her heritage, she begins to awaken to the planetary dangers ahead. Genevieve's discoveries lead her to a deadly dangerous situation, and some very exciting reading. One of Tepper's best books, along with Six Moon Dance, Grass and Gate to Women's Country.
Rating:
Summary: Who or what's killing the planet? (and all the women?)
Review: In Singer from the Sea, author Sherri Tepper creates a memorable heroine, Genevieve the Marchioness of Langmarsh. Who and what Genevieve is happens to be part of the mystery in this novel. Genevieve behaves admirably as the well-brought-up, educated noblewoman she is. But part of her operates at a level that even Genevieve has trouble connecting with. Sometimes she feels, and acts, like two different persons. People live a long, long time on Haven, that is, if they are of the ruling class and if they are men. Women don't seem to fare as well; a large number of the noblewomen simple fade like flowers after bearing a child or two-mostly succumbing to batfly fever. Only the drug P'Naki, whose production is strictly controlled on the island of Mahahm can save people from batfly fever. Unfortunately, pregnant or nursing women can't take it. There is another horrific problem looming; planet after planet suffers a mysterious ailment where all native life simply stops. Animals die, plants yellow and wilt. And people begin to suffer a strange affliction; they simply stop as if they were frozen in their tracks. Living, yet not alive. The very time the planet dies can be pinpointed to a night of fires in the sky. What is going on? And why? No one seems to know. Genevieve is called to serve at the court of the Lord Paramount, ruler of Haven. As she takes up her duties at court, she begins to uncover secrets hidden there, and also begins to uncover what and who she is. And she also begins to discover the true secret of P'Naki. And when she learns more about her heritage, she begins to awaken to the planetary dangers ahead. Genevieve's discoveries lead her to a deadly dangerous situation, and some very exciting reading. One of Tepper's best books, along with Six Moon Dance, Grass and Gate to Women's Country.
Rating:
Summary: Not her best work, but still good; try Grass first
Review: It's been a while since I read this, and it just hasn't stayed with me the way most of her books do. I really loved The Family Tree, and this one's just not as good as that one was. It has a twist, yes, and I didn't see it coming (except that there's always always always a twist in her books, so I was looking for one), but all of a sudden I can sort of see the point of people who say she writes the same book, about women oppressed by society, over and over again. No, I don't mean that. I still love them.
Rating:
Summary: Not her best work, but still good; try Grass first
Review: It's been a while since I read this, and it just hasn't stayed with me the way most of her books do. I really loved The Family Tree, and this one's just not as good as that one was. It has a twist, yes, and I didn't see it coming (except that there's always always always a twist in her books, so I was looking for one), but all of a sudden I can sort of see the point of people who say she writes the same book, about women oppressed by society, over and over again. No, I don't mean that. I still love them.
Rating:
Summary: Another Winner!
Review: Just finished the latest masterpiece from Tepper - and if you're a fan, this book is a must-read! Tepper's story in this novel perhaps doesn't make you question your own reality/social structure as much as some of her other works, like Gate to Women's Country or Raising the Stones, but it was still an excellant story told in the typical enthralling Tepper style - I couldn't put it down. Some interesting themes from the book - the concept of a planetary spirit (a carry over from Six Moon Dance??) and less focus on gender issues (although the book is still very gender oriented) and more of a focus on environmental issues and especially self-preservation on a variety of levels. Overall - this was a great novel, somewhere in between fantasy, science-fiction & speculative fiction, with that special twist that makes it a Tepper original.
Rating: 
Summary: A struggle to read
Review: Nice plot and all, but the writing was boring. DULL! It was a struggle to continue reading. The setting was creative, but the lackluster characters made the book a difficult one to complete.
Rating:
Summary: handless handmaids & heroic hunks
Review: O.K., so it's all been said before. I agree: Tepper's ideas get old. But (at the risk of being tendentious) whoever finds fault with male SF authors for repeatedly creating heroes who don't even measure up as bad adolescent fantasies, who tromp around their respective realms (physical and metaphysical) demanding homage on the basis of their strenghth and not on the basis of their use of it, who pass the time in proving their prowess and that IS the plot, who (like hobbyists) go about collecting lands and honors in order to collect more lands and and honors, and who pal around with advisory-figures who during said heroes' (rare) moments of reflection and doubt, assure them that everything they do is okay since "people are stupid" and have a lesson or two coming to them anyway? Huh? Nobody, that's who, and quite rightly, since many books of this description are roaring good reads, move along like houses afire, and manage the titanic feat of keeping track of two or more different chains of events which take place at different locations at approximately the same time. As nobody I know of reads science fiction for enlightenment (God help them if they do) that's about all one can ask of a science fiction novel; and at all the abovementioned tasks (namely: plot, pacing, world-construction) Tepper excels. Why, heck, she even WRITES well. Enough said. Now, having come to Tepper's defense, I'm going to speak of what bothers me most about her. And what bothers me most about Tepper is her anti-technological stance; her notion that Homo Faber, the direct descendent of Homo Habilis the Tinkerer, is somehow always intrinsically, genetically criminal, just bound to be up to no good. In book after book of Tepper's we are invited to behold the disastrous consequences of human meddling; in no book of hers do we ever receive much of a suggestion that such meddling may sometimes turn out WELL--that it may result in a cathedral, a symphony, a cure for polio or an unusually nifty flower display. No, Tepper implies, human ingenuity is not wanted in this universe: down with it. Worse yet, this proscription against too much ingenuity, too much human cleverness, seems to come down hardest upon her sex and mine. Tepper's books treat eloquently of the power imbalance btween the sexes and the disastrous consequences which often proceed from THAT, but it's been years since she's painted the picture of a woman accepting power instead of renouncing it. In _Singer from the Sea_ Tepper has a great deal of fun at the expense of cultural conventions which prescribe resignation and acquiescence (not initiative and problem-solving) on the part of women. But, in the end, in effect, she herself preaches the same thing. Nineteenth-century conduct books used chillingly to recommend that women be "wise for self-renunciation and not for self-development": in other words they advised women only to USE power in the service of LOSING power. The female lead of _Singer from the Sea_, Genevieve Marchioness of Wantresse, does just that: she evinces ability, but only in the cause of service to a higher power; isn't that precisely what women have all to often been required to do vis-a-vis men? Why should it be any different when the recipient of female sacrifice is a World Spirit instead of a husband? And the World Spirit of Genevieve's planet requires of her the greatest abjection; at the end of the book she renounces meddling, technology--the use of her hands. In doing so, she becomes akin to all the mutilated maidens in the gorier fairytales--the ones who walk out into the world, meet with events which diminish them terribly, and who must thereafter either outclever or cope with their diminishment--except that Genevieve wishes her disempowerment upon HERSELF (to say nothing of her descendants.) THAT is appalling. And it's a sacrifice required only of the female--one of Genevieve's (male) sidekicks, Jeorfy Bottoms, escapes his own entrapment by learning about machines and about the technology which will allow him to assume some degree of control over his circumstances, while Genevieve is made to sink back into the realm of the undifferentiated. Mercedes Lackey's retelling of a fairly grim fairytale, _The Black Swan_, a book with an argumentative thrust similar to that of _Singer from the Sea_, DEMANDS of its female protagonist that she learn how to interfere, to accomplish, to achieve, to DO. Lackey's heroine accedes to power, she does not deny it: she strengthens her hands instead of (metaphorically) cutting them off. The whole point of _The Black Swan_ is that Odile von Rothbart can do things with hands that she can't do with wings; the whole point of _Singer form the Sea_ is that Genevieve would be better off with flippers. The husband, he's the best thing in the book. By far. To the cynical he might appear to be a bit infatuated and biddable but verily, I say unto you, appearances are frequently deceitful. Aufors Leys, male lead of _Singer from the Sea_, has gonads of steel. His powers of endurance are superlative, his resourcefulness is amazing, and his intentness on getting what he wants gives rise to awe. (Of course, that last characteristic is okay since he's a guy.) Aufors Leys displays syptoms only too infrequently to be met with among the general run of science fiction males--he shows signs of being a REAL HERO. Admittedly, he's a romantic hero: his quest is to find out what's up with his woman. THIS, as my mother used to say, is the kind of man you marry. The sad thing is, though, that his character is ineluctably weakened toward the novel's end, just as his wife Genevieve is "winning toward the goal" of her apothesis. Exactly why should that be? Nothing in the plot necessitates it. For my part I can't escape the feeling that, just as it's somehow ACTUALLY not all right for women in the world described by _Singer from the Sea_ to learn to cope with machinery, it's also somehow not all right for Genevieve to end up being able to do something that her husband can't. All the same (as I said before) Tepper writes well, constructs worlds like an expert, handles a plot line (or several) like a pro. Hence this diatribe. _Singer from the Sea_ is, like all her books, an eloquent testimonial to her authorial powers. It's because Tepper's books are so consistently so GOOD that it troubles me when they appear to be implying Very Bad Things--that's all. I don't think we NEED another renunciation story, either as women or as men. The kind of transformation story in which the protagonist learns to endure pain and to accept fate has been WRITTEN already--by the Brothers Grimm and by everybody else. As I see it, we need more transformation stories in which the transformed characters end up with REALLY COOL POWERS which enable them to do INCREDIBLY INTERESTING THINGS. Anything less, as Queen Mu tells us, is BORING. Why is it that books like _Singer from the Sea_, with such promising sources of interest at their command, preach acquiescence in dullness, in non-differentiation, at the last? Why should we be advised, either as women or as men, to live our lives out underwater?
Rating:
Summary: Fascinating
Review: One of the best Science Fictions books I've ever read. It created a beautiful scene with a deep, swelling undercurrent of black fear and mystery. I enjoyed the main plot and I liked how Tepper explained the situations of the other planets. Plots-within-plots between the Aresians and the Emperor were sly and interesting. I absolutely adored the part where Geneveive swam deep down into the ocean. It painted a stunning picture in my mind. A lot of the content seemed Dune-inspired: desert planet (in one area), unusual animals, stressed societies (the Aresians), plots-with-plots (Bene Gesserit similarities), and even a Fremen-like people. All in all, a good, thought-provoking read.
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