Illustration by Abro Ernest Cline had remarkable success with his 2011 debut novel Ready Player One, a science fiction romp about an elaborate virtual Easter egg hunt that was fuelled by geek trivia and ’80s pop culture references. Mining the vaults of nostalgia worked so well for him the first time round that he decided to do it all over again in his second book, Armada.
Set in the near future, Cline’s latest novel follows the story of Zack Lightman, a nerdy high school senior obsessed with all things sci-fi. An avid gamer, the teenager spends way too much time playing videogames, especially Armada, a popular online flight simulator, dedicating his nights and weekends to protecting a virtual earth from fictional alien invaders. His life takes an unusual turn, however, when he notices a spaceship in the sky while staring out of his classroom window one day, only to realise that the flying saucer looks just like a Sobrukai Glaive, one of the fighter ships piloted by the aliens in his favourite videogame.
The sighting leaves him questioning his sanity, while reminding him of the conspiracy theory his late father, Xavier Lightman, had detailed in one of his journals. Before his death when he was only 19 and Zack was just a baby, Xavier had made notes about a top-secret project that he believed he had uncovered, suggesting that the US military was working in collusion with the entertainment industry to prep the populace for the impending arrival of extraterrestrial beings through alien-invasion-themed movies, shows, and books, while readying them for combat through training simulators in the form of videogames.
Ernest Cline’s second science fiction novel is as far away from hitting all the right notes as it could be
Zack soon discovers that he hadn’t been hallucinating about the spacecraft. The ship he saw was, in fact, real, and his gaming expertise, as well as the skills of all the gamers around the world, is the only thing that can save the planet from annihilation.
Drenched in geek references and overdosing on nerd nostalgia, Armada stumbles from one pop culture nod to the next without saying anything substantial in between. Cline lazily relies on the efforts of better writers, using fragments from their works to evoke emotions instead of bothering to do so himself. For instance, instead of telling us how Zack actually feels, Cline writes, “I’d felt like a young Clark Kent, preparing to finally learn the truth about his origins from the holographic ghost of his own long-dead father. But now I was thinking of a young Jedi-in-training named Luke Skywalker, looking into the mouth of that cave on Dagobah while Master Yoda told him about today’s activity lesson: Strong with the Dark Side of the Force that place is.” At another point, he states, “I felt like Luke Skywalker surveying a hangar full of A-, Y-, and X-Wing Fighters just before the Battle of Yavin. Or Captain Apollo, climbing into the cockpit of his Viper on the Galactica’s flight deck. Ender Wiggin arriving at Battle School. Or Alex Rogan, clutching his Star League uniform, staring wide-eyed at a hangar full of Gunstars.”
The story gets buried under an avalanche of references, and disappointingly, the author doesn’t even do a good job creating a sci-fi patchwork. The constant onslaught of trivia isn’t merged seamlessly into the text, and at times its inclusion serves no purpose beyond giving readers a chance to pat themselves on the back for being familiar with yet another movie or game allusion. Nostalgia dependence overpowers the narrative and makes it seem like the American novelist doesn’t have anything original to say, an impression that is reinforced by the tiresomely derivative and annoyingly predictable nature of the plot.