The Sunrise Lands is the latest (paperback) release in Stirling’s series about “The Change”. Short synopsis, for those who came in late: one day, all high technology, from steam engines and gunpowder on up, simply ceases to work. Civilization collapses. There are mass die-offs, and all manner of horrible things. New societies begin to coalesce, and fight for survival against nature and against each other.

At the end of the previous novel, A Meeting at Corvallis, relative peace has settled in the Pacific Northwest, and our heroes (those that survived) get to take a break. Twelve years pass. The son of Juniper MacKenzie, Rudi MacKenzie, is now a grown man, and the tanist of Clan MacKenzie. His blood sister, Mathilda Arminger, remains princess and heir to the throne of the Portland Protective Association. The various states that formed in the previous three books are generally prosperous. And weird things are beginning to happen….

In short, this is the book in which we begin to get an idea–no, that’s way too strong–this is the book in which we begin to get hints about why the Change occurred…and possibly, just possibly, begin to see those who caused the Change begin to make their presence known. I won’t say more than that.

I have mixed feelings about this book. It’s very clearly the first book in a set (of three, I presume) and so there’s lots of set-up and very little payoff. A lot happens, but there’s little suspense; the plot meanders forward, but it doesn’t really build to a climax.

On the other hand, it’s a pleasant enough ride; and there’s a lot about it to like. Stirling’s post-apocalyptic world is an interesting one, and the characters are fun. And given that it is the first book in a set, and given Stirling’s past performance, I’m more than willing to cut him some slack.

I have to say, I really like the treatment of religion in this book, which is amazingly realistic. From most books written from a more or less American viewpoint, you’d think that deeply religious people are either fruitcakes or hypocrites. In this book, we have realistic people whose religion is simply part of their lives. Some, naturally, are more devout than others, but most have some form of religious practice–just as most Americans do. More than that, Stirling plays fair. He has done his homework. This book is chock full of serious Roman Catholics who act, speak, and pray like serious Roman Catholics, including one of the principles, Mathilda Arminger.

Of course there are also a great many not-terribly-serious Catholics, especially when it comes to sexual sin; but I can’t argue that that’s unrealistic either.

I do have a qualm, and a complaint. The qualm is that while Catholicism is presented realistically, the “Old Religion” is presented as true, that is, true in the context of the world Stirling is building. (I don’t mean to imply that Stirling is a neo-pagan; so far as I know, he’s a somewhat lapsed Episcopalian, or was.) Of course, it’s possible that the scenes in which the pagan gods appear to take a hand are evidence of something else….

I didn’t expect anything different, though. So that’s a minor quibble. The complaint is about a brief mention of the Dominican order. In earlier volumes, the Lord Protector of Portland has set up his own version of the Catholic Church, with a nutcase as “pope”, and his own version of the Inquisition. Now, twelve years later, the “Church” in Portland has come back into communion with the Church of Rome under Pope Benedict’s successor, Pius XXIII and the Inquisition has been abolished…and it’s said that some of the Dominicans mourn its passing. Now, whatever might be said about the Inquisition as it really was (and the Pope has formally apologized for its excesses), the Inquisition in Portland in Stirling’s books is a wholly evil endeavour, and one that the Dominicans I’ve met (mostly on-line) would have had nothing to do with, much less look back with fondness on. But it was a passing moment, no more.