Y una cosa más... «Guía del autoestopista galáctico»

Por Eoin Colfer

Arthur ha podido volver por fin a la Tierra. Y al poner los pies en el suelo descubre que van a hacer volar la Tierra... ¡una vez más! Y una cosa más... es la inesperada y bienvenida sexta entrega de la divertidísima serie de libros protagonizados por el autoestopista galáctico. Y en ella intervienen un Olimpo completo de dioses desocupados, un presidente galáctico renegado, un alienígena verde y enamorado y un ordenador furioso. La guía del autoestopista galáctico, de Douglas Adams, ha provocado torrentes de carcajadas en el mundo entero. Y una cosa más..., publicada para celebrar el treinta aniversario de su aparición e introducir a una nueva generación a la serie de libros más divertidos jamás escritos, es la continuación de los desopilantes vagabundeos galácticos del infortunado terrícola Arthur Dent. «Los fans de Douglas Adams disfrutarán de este reencuentro con los viejos amigos» (Publishers Weekly). Douglas Adams ha resucitado en la prosa vigorosa de Eoin Colfer» (The Observer).

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Editorial Anagrama
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 14 jun 2012
• ISBN: 9788433938725

Eoin Colfer

Eoin Colfer (Wexford, Irlanda, 1965) ha escrito la serie de novelas de Artemis Fowl, que figuran en las listas de los libros más vendidos en todo el mundo, y han sido traducidas a cuarenta lenguas –casi todas habladas por seres humanos–, y The Wish List y The Supernaturalist and Half Moon Investigations, que ha dado lugar a una popular serie de la BBC. Se ha hecho acreedor a numerosos premios, como el Libro Infantil del Año en Gran Bretaña y en Alemania. Y una cosa más... es el primer libro de Eoin Colfer para adultos. Y ha descubierto que es una experiencia muy parecida a escribir para niños y adolescentes... sólo que casi no se usan frases como «¡Yo no tengo la culpa!» y «¡No me entendéis, nadie me entiende!». © Michael Paynter

Vista previa del libro

otro...

1

Según el ayudante de un bedel de la Universidad de Maximegalon, que suele merodear delante de las aulas, el Universo tiene dieciséis mil millones de años. De esa supuesta verdad se burla un grupo de poetas beat betelgeusianos que afirman tener cuadernos moleskine aún más viejos (tararí-tarará). Diecisiete mil millones como mínimo, dicen esos poetas basándose en su ejemplar de los rollos del Wham Bam Big Bang. Un humano, adolescente prodigio, una vez cifró esa edad en catorce mil millones de años apoyándose en un complejo cálculo que incluía la densidad de las piedras lunares y la distancia entre dos niñas pubescentes situadas en un horizonte de acontecimientos. Uno de los dioses menores de Asgardan dijo entre dientes que en alguna parte había leído algo sobre cierta especie de acontecimiento cósmico de primera magnitud que había tenido lugar dieciocho mil millones de años antes, pero ya nadie presta atención a tales dictámenes divinos, no al menos desde la debacle del nacimiento de los dioses, o Thorgate, como se ha llegado a conocer.

Al margen de los billones de años que el Universo realmente tenga, son millones de millones de años, y el viejo de la playa parecía haber contado al menos uno de esos billones. Tenía la piel como pergamino ebúrneo y, visto de perfil, se parecía mucho a una trémula S en caja alta.

El hombre recordaba que una vez había tenido un gato, si es que podemos confiar en los recuerdos y tomarlos por algo más que configuraciones neuronales que se extienden a lo largo de trillones de sinapsis. Los recuerdos no podían tocarse con los dedos ni sentirse como el oleaje que cubría los dedos retorcidos de los pies del viejo. Pero entonces, ¿qué eran las sensaciones físicas si no meros mensajes eléctricos procedentes del cerebro? O ¿por qué creer en ellas? ¿Había en el Universo algo digno de confianza que uno pudiera abrazar, algo a lo que aferrarse en medio de una tormenta de mariposas aparte de un pertinaz viento hawailiusiano?

Las putas mariposas, pensó el hombre. Después de entender ese asunto de las alas que baten para alejarse de un continente, millones de traviesos lepidópteros se han unido en bandadas y se han vuelto malintencionados.

No cabe duda de que eso no puede ser real, pensó. ¿Tormentas de mariposas?

Pero, claro, más neuronas traspasaron un número aún mayor de sinapsis susurrando cosas sobre teorías de la improbabilidad. Si una cosa no iba a ocurrir nunca, entonces esa cosa se negaría resueltamente a no ocurrir lo antes posible.

Tormentas de mariposas. Sólo era cuestión de tiempo.

El viejo apartó su atención de ese fenómeno antes de que le sobreviniera alguna otra catástrofe y comenzara el áspero camino hacia su nacimiento.

¿Se podía confiar en algo? ¿Había algo con que consolarse?

Al ponerse, el Sol encendió cuartos crecientes en los bordes de las olitas, bruñó las nubes, trazó rayas plateadas en las hojas de las palmeras e hizo centellear la tetera de porcelana en la mesa de la veranda.

Ah, sí, pensó el viejo. Té. En el centro de un Universo incierto y posiblemente ilusorio siempre habría té.

El viejo dibujó dos números naturales en la arena con un bastón hecho con la pierna desechada de un robot y contempló cómo lo borraban las olas.

De pronto se pudo ver el cuarenta y dos y un momento después ya no estaba. Puede que los números nunca estuviesen allí y tal vez ni siquiera tuviesen importancia.

Por alguna razón, eso hizo que el viejo soltase una risa socarrona cuando se inclinó en la pendiente y volvió a la veranda rendido de cansancio. Mientras llamaba a su androide para que le sirviera unas galletas, se sentó, con gran crujido de huesos y de madera, en una silla de mimbre que era absolutamente empática con el entorno.

El androide le sirvió galletas Rich Tea.

Una buena elección.

Unos segundos después, la súbita aparición de un pájaro de metal produjo un lapsus momentáneo en la concentración con que el viejo mojaba la galleta e hizo que perdiese en el té un trozo no desdeñable en forma de cuarto creciente.

–Oh, santo cielo –gruñó–. ¿Sabes cuánto tiempo llevo trabajando en esta técnica? Galletas para mojar en el té y sándwiches. ¿Qué otra cosa le queda a una persona?

El pájaro permaneció impasible.

–Un pájaro impasible –dijo el viejo en voz baja, disfrutando del sonido de su voz. Cerró el ojo malo, que no había funcionado como es debido desde el día en que, siendo aún niño, el viejo se había mareado y se había caído de un árbol, y examinó a la criatura.

El pájaro se mantuvo inmóvil en el aire; iluminadas por el Sol, las plumas de metal adquirieron un brillo púrpura mientras las alas levantaban pequeños maelstroms.

–Batería –dijo el pájaro, con una voz que al viejo le recordó a un actor al que una vez había visto interpretar a Otelo en el Globe Theatre de Londres. Es asombroso lo que da de sí una sola palabra.

–¿Has dicho «batería»? –preguntó el hombre, sólo para confirmarlo. Podría haber sido «latería», o incluso «datería». Ya no oía como antes, sobre todo las consonantes iniciales.

–Batería –volvió a decir el pájaro, y de repente la realidad se resquebrajó y se rompió en mil pedazos como un espejo que cae hecho añicos. La playa desapareció, las olas se congelaron, se cuartearon y se evaporaron. Lo último que se desvaneció fue la galleta Rich Tea.

–Hijoputa –masculló el viejo cuando las últimas migas se le deshicieron en la punta de los dedos, y acto seguido se reclinó en un cojín en la habitación de cielo que de repente lo rodeó. Pronto vendría alguien, estaba seguro. Desde las oscuras cavernas de sus viejos recuerdos, los nombres Ford y Prefect emergieron como murciélagos grises para asociarse con el desastre inminente.

Cada vez que el Universo se venía abajo, Ford Prefect no andaba lejos. Él y ese detestable libro suyo. ¿Cómo se llamaba? Ah, sí. El orgullo del horquillador es una falacia.

Eso o algo muy parecido.

El viejo sabía perfectamente qué diría Ford Prefect.

Mira el lado bueno, viejo. Al menos no estás tumbado delante de un bulldozer, ¿eh? Al menos no nos están lanzando por una esclusa de los vogones. Una habitación de cielo no es algo demasiado feo, que lo sepas. Podría ser peor, muchísimo peor.

–Será muchísimo peor –dijo el viejo con sombría certeza. Según su experiencia, las cosas siempre iban a peor, y las raras veces que las cosas realmente parecían mejorar, sólo se trataba de un preludio dramático a un empeoramiento cataclísmico.

Oh, sí, esa habitación de cielo parecía bastante inofensiva, pero ¿qué terrores acechaban más allá de sus ondulantes paredes? Ninguno que no fuese terrible, de eso el viejo estaba seguro.

Metió el dedo en una de las superficies blandas de las paredes y al hacerlo recordó el pudin de tapioca, lo cual hizo que el viejo casi sonriera hasta que recordó que había odiado la tapioca desde que un matón de primaria le había llenado las pantuflas con puré de tapioca en el colegio Eaton House.

–Blisters Smyth, puta mierda –susurró.

La punta del dedo del viejo dejó un agujero efímero en las nubes y a través de ese agujero él pudo atisbar, más allá, una ventana de guillotina de doble altura y, fuera de la ventana..., ¿podía ser un rayo de la muerte?

El viejo casi temió que lo fuese.

Todo este tiempo, pensó. Todo este tiempo y no ha pasado nada.

Ford Prefect estaba haciendo realidad su sueño, siempre y cuando ese sueño incluyese una temporada en uno de los centros turísticos ultralujosos, de cinco supergigantes y naturalmente erosionados de Han Wavel. Llenaba las horas que pasaba despierto con grandes cantidades de cócteles exóticos y relaciones con hembras exóticas de diversas especies capaces de producir un daño permanente.

Y lo mejor era que del gasto de todo ese paquete permisivo y posiblemente acortador de la vida se ocuparía su tarjeta Dine-O-Charge, que no tenía límite de crédito gracias a un pequeño ordenador creativo que él le había incorporado en su última visita a las oficinas de la Guía del autoestopista.

Si a un Ford Prefect más joven le hubiesen entregado una página en blanco y le hubiesen pedido que en su tiempo libre escribiera un párrafo breve exponiendo con detalle los deseos que más acariciaba para el futuro, la única palabra que podría haber cambiado en el párrafo anterior sería el adverbio «posiblemente». Probablemente.

Los centros vacacionales de Han Wavel eran tan obscenamente lujosos que se decía que un macho de Brequindan sería capaz de vender a su madre con tal de pasar una noche en la infame vibrosuite del Hotel Sandcastle. No es tan escandaloso como suena, pues en Brequindan los padres son moneda de cambio y un septuagenario bien hidratado y con una buena dentadura puede servir para comprarse un vehículo motorizado familiar de mediano alcance.

Es posible que Ford no hubiese vendido a la madre ni al padre para financiarse la estancia en el Sandcastle, pero tenía un primo de dos cráneos que a menudo causaba más problemas de los que valía.

Todas las noches cogía el carnascensor que llevaba hasta su ático, graznaba en la puerta para que se abriera y lo dejase entrar y después hacía tiempo para mirarse los ojos inyectados de sangre antes de caer inconsciente boca abajo en el lavabo.

Ésta es la última noche, juraba todas las noches. Mi cuerpo se rebelará y se derrumbará sobre sí mismo, ¿verdad?

¿Qué diría su obituario en la Guía del autoestopista?, se preguntó Ford. Sería breve, de eso no cabía duda. Un par de palabras. Quizá las mismas dos palabras que él había usado para describir el planeta Tierra muchos años antes.

Fundamentalmente inofensivo.

La Tierra. ¿No había ocurrido en la Tierra algo más bien triste en lo que él tendría que estar pensando? ¿Por qué había cosas que podía recordar y otras que eran tan claras como una mañana brumosa en las llanuras brumosas de Nefología, permanentemente envueltas en la niebla?

Generalmente era más o menos en ese estado sensiblero cuando el tercer detonador gargárico exprimía la última gota de conciencia del cerebro de Ford, con su excedente de licores, y él reía como un tonto dos veces, chillaba como un pollo de rodeo y ejecutaba una voltereta casi perfecta hacia delante en el lavabo portátil más cercano.

Y, sin embargo, todas las mañanas, cuando levantaba la cabeza del lavabo del cuarto de baño completo (si tenía suerte), Ford se encontraba milagrosamente revitalizado. No tenía resaca ni aliento de dragón, y tampoco un vaso capilar reventado en una de las dos escleróticas que diera testimonio de los excesos de la noche anterior.

–Eres un tío frud, Ford Prefect –se decía invariablemente–. Sí, lo eres.

Aquí algo huele a pescado podrido, insistía su subconsciente, al que rara vez oía.

¿A pescado?

Hasta luego y gracias por todo el...

¿No había algo con delfines? No son peces, cierto, pero habitaban en el mismo... hábitat.

¡Piensa, idiota! ¡Piensa! Deberías estar muerto cientos de veces. Has consumido cócteles suficientes para conservar en escabeche no sólo a ti mismo sino a varias versiones alternativas de ti mismo. ¿Cómo es que sigues vivo?

–Vivo y frud –decía Ford, dirigiéndose a menudo un guiño a sí mismo en el espejo, admirando lo lustroso que se le había vuelto el pelo rojo y cuán pronunciados los pómulos. Además, parecía estar creciéndole una barbilla. Una verdadera barbilla finamente cincelada.

–Este lugar está haciéndome bien –le dijo a su reflejo–. Todos los tratamientos con cataplasmas de fotosanguijuelas e irradiación de colono-lemmings están mejorando muchísimo mi sistema, en serio. Creo que le debo a Ford Prefect quedarme un poco más.

Y eso fue lo que hizo.

El último día Ford pagó con la tarjeta de crédito un masaje subacuático. El masajista era un calamar pom-pom damograniano con once tentáculos y mil ventosas que le dieron una auténtica paliza a la espalda de Ford y le limpiaron los poros con una serie de percusiones whisplashmáticas. Los calamares pom-pom solían estar inmensamente más que cualificados para hacer su trabajo en la industria del spa, pero los desviaban del camino de su enésimo doctorado unos salarios atractivos, reservas ricas en plancton y la oportunidad de dar un masaje a un cazatalentos de la industria musical y, tal vez, cerrar un trato para un disco.

–¿Ya ha hecho alguna vez de cazatalentos, amigo? –preguntó el calamar, aunque no parecía muy esperanzado.

–No –contestó Ford, mientras las burbujas manaban de su casco de plexiglás y la cara, al agradable resplandor de la fosforescencia rocosa, iba adquiriendo un brillo naranja–. Aunque una vez tuve un par de zapatos de ante azul, cosa que debería tomarse en cuenta–. Todavía tengo uno..., el otro es más cercano al malva porque es una copia.

Mientras hablaba, el calamar iba dando mordiscos al plancton que pasaba, lo cual hacía que la conversación fuese un poco inconexa.

–No sé si...

–¿Si qué?

–No he terminado.

–Es que ha dejado de hablar.

–Vi un destello y pensé que era el almuerzo.

–¿Come destellos?

–No. No destellos de verdad.

–Mejor, porque los destellos son crías de destollos, y son venenosos.

–Lo sé. Sólo decía que...

–¿Más destellos?

–Exactamente. Entonces, ¿está seguro de que no es un cazatalentos, o un agente?

–No.

–Oh, por Zarko –juró el calamar, no muy profesionalmente–. Hace dos años que trabajo aquí. Me prometieron que me lloverían los cazatalentos y los agentes. Ni uno. Ni uno solo, joder. Yo estudiaba kazoo, estaba en nivel avanzado, ya me entiende.

Ford fue incapaz de resistir un pie como ése.

–¿Kazoo avanzado? ¿Cómo de avanzados pueden ser los estudios de kazoo?

El calamar se sintió herido.

–Bastante avanzados si uno es capaz de tocar mil al mismo tiempo. Yo estaba en un cuarteto. ¿Se lo imagina?

Ford decidió que sí. Cerró los ojos, disfrutó del wup-pop de las ventosas en la espalda e imaginó cuatro mil kazoos que sonaban en perfecta armonía subacuática.

Al cabo de un rato el calamar envolvió a Ford en media docena de tentáculos y le dio la vuelta con delicadeza. Ford abrió un ojo para leer la placa del calamar.

Soy Barzoo, se leía. Úseme como quiera.

Y debajo, en letra más pequeña:

Soy alérgico a la goma.

–Oiga, Barzoo. ¿Qué cosas tocaba?

El masajista empezó a bombear con los tentáculos antes de contestar, lo cual dio lugar a un remolino de corrientes.

–Viejas canciones principalmente. Covers. ¿Alguna vez ha oído hablar de Hotblack Desiato?

Sí que he oído ese nombre, se dijo Ford, pero no pudo concretar el recuerdo por completo. Con cada día que pasaba las cosas se volvían un poco más confusas.

–Hotblack Desiato. ¿No hace tiempo ya que ha muerto?

Barzoo ladeó la cabeza, pensando en eso. Al calamar le colgaba el pico abierto; no prestaba atención a las diminutas hileras de plancton ni a sus destellos.

–Eh, no se preocupe si no se acuerda. En este lugar yo también he empezado a tener algunos problemas de memoria. Nimiedades como cuánto tiempo hace que estoy aquí, qué finalidad tiene mi vida, en qué pies tengo que ponerme los zapatos. Cosas así.

El calamar no reaccionó; sus tentáculos descansaban pesadamente en el torso de Ford como una soga vieja.

Ford deseó que Barzoo no hubiese muerto de repente, pero, si el calamar había pasado el estadio de energía, ¿perderían fuerza chupadora las ventosas o entrarían en una especie de modo chupador en punto muerto? Ford no tenía ningunas ganas de pasarse el resto de las vacaciones sometiéndose a operaciones quirúrgicas parta quitarse los tentáculos adheridos al torso.

En ese momento Barzoo parpadeó.

–Eh, colega –suspiró Ford, y las burbujas le salieron del casco formando una espiral–. Bienvenido. Durante un segundo pensé...

–Bat-t-t-ería –dijo el calamar, haciendo resonar las tes–. Batería.

Nunca me había dado cuenta, pensó Ford, de que los calamares se parecen mucho a un pájaro.

Entonces la gruta del masaje subacuático se disolvió y Ford Prefect terminó depositado en una habitación hecha de cielo azul.

Un personaje conocido estaba sentado en la esquina opuesta.

–Ah –dijo Ford, recordando.

Nota de la Guía: Recordar suele ser un proceso en dos fases que implica diálogo entre las partes conscientes y las partes subconscientes del cerebro. El subconsciente inicia el procedimiento lanzando el recuerdo pertinente, acto que libera un chorro de endorfinas autocongratulatorias.

–Bien hecho, amigo –dice la conciencia–. Ese recuerdo es realmente útil en este momento y yo no conseguía recordar dónde lo había puesto.

–Tú y yo, compadre –dice el subconsciente, encantado de que por una vez le reconociesen su contribución–, estamos juntos en esto.

Después el consciente repasa el recuerdo que encuentra en la bandeja de entrada y envía un mensaje al esfínter para decirle que se prepare para lo peor.

–¿Por qué me hiciste acordar de esto? –despotrica el subconsciente–. Es espantoso. Es terrible. Yo no quería recordarlo. ¿Por qué zarkis crees que lo había mandado al fondo del cerebro?

–Ésta es la última vez que te ayudo –farfulla el subconsciente, y se retira a las zonas más oscuras de sí mismo, donde se alojan los pensamientos sucios–. No te necesito –se dice a sí mismo–. Con todas esas cosas que has descartado, yo puedo hacerme una nueva

Comentarios para Y una cosa más... «Guía del autoestopista galáctico»

[jamski-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I am happy to say I finally read through all of the "Hitchhiker's Guide" books, many, many years after I bought them. The first four…no big deal, they were in one collected volume. The fifth I found at a remainder sale, and I finally got around to reading THAT too. And a darker ending to a light-hearted series I could hardly imagine…

The reason I read them all over again—besides the fact that they're entertaining and funny—is that I encountered this, the SIXTH book in the "trilogy". In a dollar store, of all places. Guess maybe the publisher counted on better sales…still, their loss, my gain.

The author, Eoin Colfer, is the creator of the hugely successful Artemis Fowl series, and Douglas Adams' widow Jane approved the choice. I can't say I can disagree. While at least one of my friends rolled his eyes at seeing me with a copy, I liked it. A lot. Like the original books, there's a lot of digression and explanation of events and phraseology, and the humor is typically dry as the Sahara, but if you like this sort of thing, you'll dig it. I was raised on Python, so I get it.

I will grant you, it's uneven and at times choppy, but ultimately it's quite satisfying, and a worthy conclusion to one of the most beloved sci-fi series of all time. Chances are if you enjoyed the first five books and were wondering what happened to Arthur, Trillian, Ford, Zaphod and the lot, you'll have a good time and a good laugh or two (or more) along the way. Heck, just the notion of someone auditioning Gods is worthy of note. I think Douglas would've approved.

Recommended.

[hopeevey · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I had very mixed feelings about this book before I read it. On the one hand, I felt downright insulted that someone would try to squeeze more cash out of the Adam's legacy like this. On the other hand, I have a whole lot of faith in Eoin Colfer's writing. Because of that faith, and understanding that even Douglas Adams felt that book 5 was a terribly place to leave the series, I was willing to give this book a read.

I have coworkers who weren't born when I first read the earlier books in this series. I make HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy references often, and re-read the books periodically. I knew it would be impossible to read this latest installment with anything close to objectivity; I didn't even try. I reminded myself that I read for the pleasure of it, and dove in.

I very much enjoyed this book! It was so fun to visit this universe and spend time with these characters. The characterization was excellent. I could tell who spoke without having to check dialogue tags, the voices were so very clear and true to the cannon. This volume placed itself firmly in the same universe as the previous ones without smacking you over the head with continuity porn.

That being said, I hesitate to encourage fans of Douglas Adams to read this one. As I mentioned, I am far from objective about this book. I cannot tease out how much I enjoyed this book for itself, and how much I enjoyed this book because it let me have a new story in a universe I love. I have a vague feeling that the plot was more shallow than other installments of the series, but that could be me over-compensating for how much I love the universe. This book is certainly better than "Young Zaphod Plays It Safe" but that's a pretty low bar.

I would love to discuss this book with someone who's read this, but none of the previous books in the series. I can often get a feel for how a book in a series would read as a stand-alone - I can't in this case. If this is your first foray into HHGG, give me a holler. I'd love to talk :)

[simonea_533972 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

The title of this book pretty much covers my opinion of it. It's a fun read, but it doesn't live up to the original series. At times, the author was trying too hard to be like Douglas Adams, and some of the Guide entries distracted from the story. But if you see this book not as a sequel to the original series, but as 'inspired by', it's a good read.

[shmuel510_1 · Calificación: 1 de 5 estrellas]

If I could give this zero stars, I would.I should grant at the outset that the avowed mission of this book is to undo the ending of Mostly Harmless, which I loved unreservedly. This was never going to be an easy sell. Still, I was willing to put that aside and see where he went from there.It's a mess. If Adams had written a sixth book in the trilogy before his untimely passing, I think it's safe to say that he would have disposed of the previous ending in a few pages flat, if he'd bothered to address it at all before getting on with the story. (He did just that in book 5, neatly ridding himself of Book 4's baggage by having Fenchurch suddenly disappear.) Coifer doesn't. Coifer spends the entire book writing his way out of the previous ending, except for a few bits meant to set up the sequels. Furthermore, everybody is out of character. Arthur, Trillian, Random, Zaphod, Ford, Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged, and even the bloody Vogons. None of them act remotely like the versions Douglas Adams wrote.I'm actually looking for something nice to say about this, but I'm coming up blank. It's not even as if he has a intricate plot set up in which everything dovetails elegantly at the end, like, say, that of Mostly Harmless itself; instead, it lurches along haphazardly, like, say, the first couple of books in the series, just (a) without the charm and wit that carried those, and (b) with the burden of having a specific problem that needed to be solved, which those largely didn't have. And to compound the issue, did I mention the bit where he's clearly angling for sequels?I suppose the one good thing I can note is that the introduction does characterize this book as a lesser work with poorer production values, which one might like if one liked the original. In keeping with that, if this had to be printed at all -- which I would, of course, contest -- it should have been billed as the first book in a new trilogy of indeterminate length, rather than the "part six of three" proudly proclaimed on the cover. At least set the bad fanfic apart from the real books.

[tcarter_77 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

It has to be said that I approached this with some trepidation. Was it really possible for another author to capture the world of Arthur, Ford and the Babel fish? I need not have feared. Eoin Colfer has triumphed in capturing the language style, the heart of the characters and the sheer implausibility of plotting pioneered by Douglas Adams. There is a nice balance of continuity with the previous books in the series with innovation and exploration of the multiverse. In the background of this review is the fact that I thought that the fifth book in the series was one too far. I loved "So long and thanks for all the fish" and felt satisfied at the resolutions found there. Fenchurch and Arthur warmed my heart, Marvin's eventual release, and God's final message to creation seemed to provide a consistent and satisfying conclusion to the Guide. Resurrection for "mostly harmless" seemed cruel and unnecessary. Colfer has redeemed some of this for me, though, all things considered, I wish that the series stopped at IV, but given that it didn't, I'm glad that VI was written.

[sonicquack · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Not having read a HG2G book in many years it was easy not to get hung up on the intricacies of how close it comes to the previous entries. What Colffer provides is an enjoyable sci-fi romp, which frequently steps from the witty in to the ridiculous, with all the characters one would expect, including Vogons! The narrative never really provides any tension or real page-turning power, however the story wends its way through the universe with some interesting ideas and plenty of excerpts from the Guide to provide the required familiarity. The lack of propulsion ends in an unforgettable if somewhat amusing read. Sci-fi humour is a difficult genre to master, even Adams was hit and miss, and as such this is more hit than miss.

[phantasma_1 · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

I am about to commit what many people would see as blasphemy...I liked this installment of Hitchhiker's better than the last two Adam's wrote. I think Colfer did a fantastic job (with one or two exceptions, things that seemed a little out of place, like the Cthulu thing, for example). I hope he writes more. I missed the world of Hitchhikers and I think Adams would be pleased with what Colfer has done. Color me impressed.

[quilted_kat · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Colfer does a good job of recreating the feel of Adam's original characters and humor, and there is an interview with Cthulu that made me chuckle. But overall I was dissapointed with this follow-up to the Hitchhikers Guide series. The story didn't really go anywhere, and seemed to be just a back drop for the characters to spout humorous one-liners. That said, Colfer didn't do any worse than Adams did towards the end of his own writing.

[steevc_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

A pretty good attempt at continuing the H2G2 series. Not enough Arthur for my tastes.

[fyrefly98 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Summary: By the end of Mostly Harmless, Arthur Dent had finally made it back to Earth - well, an Earth, if not exactly his Earth. However, his being back on Earth made it that much easier for the Vogons to complete their mission of destroying the Earth and all of its inhabitants, in the name of a hyperspace bypass and bureaucratic completeness. Arthur, Trillian, their daughter Random, and Ford Prefect are saved once again, and set out on yet another journey across time and space, meeting up with some old friends (Zaphod), enemies (Vogon Captain Prostetnic Jeltz), gods (Thor, along with the rest of the Norse pantheon), kneebiting jerks (Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged), and tackling new challenges, like overzealous real-estate-developers-slash-cult leaders, the terrors of dark-matter enhanced love, and a giant wheel of cheese (Gouda... or maybe cheddar.) Review: When presented with And Another Thing..., the obvious first question is "Can you really have a Hitchhiker's book without Douglas Adams?" And the answer, I'm happy to report, is "on the 'mostly' end of 'sort of'." That waffly statement is a result of the patchy nature of the book. There were individual scenes that are funny enough to compete with Adams at his best, and then there were bits that just didn't work for me at all. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the parts that worked best were the parts where Colfer took Adams's characters and ran with them in his own direction, and the parts that felt the most labored were the parts where Colfer was trying to match his humor exactly to Adams's style, and to cram in as much continuity as possible. For example, in the asides (here set off as "Guide Notes" and in different font), Colfer seemed determined to bring back every random (not Random) alien species Adams ever mentioned, without realizing that the reason those bits were so funny was because they were thoroughly unexpected and unconnected one-offs.On the other hand, I absolutely laughed out loud more than once, was giggling constantly, and at one point in the middle I caught myself thinking "Man, I like Adams's books so much better when they involve the Norse Gods."... before it dawned on me that And Another Thing... was not actually written by the same man who wrote The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul. That's pretty high praise. Colfer undeniably had some huge shoes to fill, and while they don't quite fit him perfectly (...yet; he did seem to get more comfortable inhabiting Adams's universe as the book went on), neither did he trip over them and fall down the stairs. Besides, any book that starts with quotes from Douglas Adams and Tenacious D, and uses the word "sarcastigating" in a sentence gets a thumbs up from me.But, sadly: No Marvin. 4 out of 5 stars.Recommendation: If you go into this book expecting a Douglas Adams book, you're probably going to be disappointed. But if you go in expecting an Eoin Colfer book written in the Hitchhiker's universe, then it's a fun, enjoyable, and mostly harmless read. (Heh.)

[melydia_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

As a longtime fan of the series, I approached this book with some trepidation. After all, I had pretty lukewarm feelings about Colfer's Artemis Fowl books. I am pleased to report that I was not disappointed. This book is hilarious. And, in a lot of ways, it makes up for the rather disappointing end to Mostly Harmless. All your favorite characters are here: Trillian, Zaphod, Arthur, and assorted other characters. No Marvin, but I'm pretty sure something final happened to him in a previous book. The Guide notes are marvelous and I did quite a lot of laughing throughout the story. The ending wraps up more or less satisfactorily while still left wide open for any future installments. To be honest, I did not expect to recommend this book to fans of the series, but I definitely do. It's a pile of fun.

[plabebob · Calificación: 2 de 5 estrellas]

A valiant attempt, but for the die-hard Adam's fan you can tell right away it's not his writing. Amusing in places & it does get better, but it doesn't quite fill that hole.

[jlj_6 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

No one could ever approach Adams, but Colfer comes surprisingly close. Many laughs and snickers later, I'm much happier with the current state of the 'trilogy'.

[raizel_1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Captures the outer style of Douglas Adams but misses his essence. It feels like Nothing happens for most of it. The ending is reasonable and the book---I can't resist---mostly harmless. Oh, unless you're really serious about religion and then you might be very offended.

[fouroffivewits · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

When they announced they were going to continue the story of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, I was ecstatic. For one thing, it's my absolute favorite series and another, the ending to "Mostly Harmless" was far to bleak for my taste. I understand not every book needs a happy ending and sometimes the ending you want isn't the ending that best fits the story (i.e Stephen King's The Dark Tower) but you can't help but feel that ending was not ultimately where Mr. Adams wanted to leave it. Somehow I thought in my mind to replicate something not quite on par with Douglas but close enough that I would thoroughly enjoy it. I knew Eion Coifer has good critical reception with his "Artemis Fowl" series so I was fairly confident in the quality of the book. What I received was disappointing. Not a bad book in the least bit, it is actually pretty well written... if it wasn't a Hitchhiker's Guide book. Every character feels slightly off base, like watching your favorite characters on a television series being played a different set of actors. I have the same feeling about the plotline although I did enjoy how EIon chose to write how they escaped the destruction of the Earth. Otherwise, the story falls pretty flat for me. One of my favorite parts of the original series was the entries in the guide the transitioned to the plotline with "The Hitchhiker's Guide to Galaxy has this to say on the subject of ...." and to see the Guide entries reduced to post-it notes really took me out of the book where the original I was utterly lost in. By far though, the most disappointing aspect of the book is that it was not nearly as funny. While reading the original there were parts where I had to actually put down the book because I was laughing so hard, while this book I believe the only part I truly laughed at was a cow jumping out and yelling "Eat me!" which I can't even recall very clearly. Overall, I do not think Eion Coifer is a bad writer but I also do not believe he was the right choice to continue the series. Personally, considering their history with Douglas, I wrote much rather have seen a collaboration between Neil Gaiman, Stephen Fry, and Richard Dawkins to finish the series. Sounds strange I know, but that's just one hoopy frood's opinion.

[scribble1orca · Calificación: 1 de 5 estrellas]

Am I becoming old?
Definitely.
Am I losing my sense of humour?
Most likely.
Am I disappointed that Eoin Colfer can't carry a candle to the late great departed Mr Adams?
Yes. The bugger.

I was conned. I was ripped off. I dreamed of dolphins and instead I got sardines.

And Arther wasn't even wearing his dressing gown.

And that reminds me, wasn't Zaphod a brunette?

And another thing...a seventh book would be killing the overkill, Mr Colfer. Please don't.

[nx74defiant · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

I'm always a little leery of someone continuing a dead author's series. But I got it at the dollar store. So I went in with low expectations and enjoyed the silly nonsense.

[sloopjonb · Calificación: 2 de 5 estrellas]

Bit disappointing.

[galadan-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I found it surprisingly similar in style to the original (first) book, especially in the early parts; not at all like _Mostly Harmless_, which in my opinion really ought never to have been written. The single thing I dislike is the fact that so many of the new names are puns, and rather bad (or pointless) ones at that. Other than that it deserves its place in the trilogy.

[kewaynco · Calificación: 2 de 5 estrellas]

the book had the correct Douglas Adams characters but lacked any of the character of his writing. Not worth the purchase or time spent reading it.

[brakketh-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

An admirable attempt to keep the Hitchhiking magic alive but didn't do it for me. Worth a try if you are a fan of the original.

[bookappeal · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

It cannot be an easy thing to walk in the footsteps of greatness. Eoin Colfer does a commendable of job capturing the fun and insanity of Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker series in this sixth part of the trilogy. It's a bit scattered but there are some truly laugh out loud moments and snippets of dialogue and outrageous detail. The narrator doesn't do as good a job with the voices as Douglas Adams did - Arthur sounds far too capable and Zaphod a bit too smarmy - but, overall, a valiant and mostly successful continuation of a mind-boggling series.

[gregandlarry · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Almost completely but not quite manages to fail to capture the feeling of the original books. That there is a plot is just wrong.

[krau0098 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This is the 6th part of 3 in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series. Douglas Adams always wanted to have a sixth book in the series; and Eoin Colfer (best know for the Artemis Fowl series) was the writer chosen to write this sixth book. Overall it was an okay book. I read the original books so long ago that I had trouble comparing this book to the original. This book was very creative and had a similar tone to it that the previous books had. I found it hard to stay engaged in the story though with all the sidetracking that was going on.Arthur, Ford, Random, and Trillian have spent a while living a life that they weren't really living. They awake to find that the alternate Earth that they are on is going to be destroyed; very familiar to the first book! They are rescued at the last minute by Zaphod who is piloting the Heart of Gold. Of course, things go wrong on The Heart of Gold and they are then about to die again when they are rescued by the immortal Bowerick. Bowerick agrees to help them if they can find a way to kill him. Zaphod readily agrees. From there they are off to the planet of Gods to convince Thor to kill Bowerick. The other part of the story involves the leader of the planet Nano and his search for a God for his planet; as the last colony of humans this story eventually ties in with the one involving Arthur and folks.This was an interesting story. The plot is creative and the Guide Notes as intriguing and somewhat useless as they always were. The tone of the book seemed in keeping with the previous books (although my memory on the previous books is a bit vague). Still despite the non-stop action and constant stream of creative prattle, I had trouble staying engaged in this book.Maybe it is because I haven't been involved with these characters in a long time, but I have trouble staying engaged in the characters or their story. Part of the problem was that it was like the story had ADD, it just couldn't stay going in one direction for very long. I remember the original books kind of being like that, but I think this was worse. With the interruptions of facts from the Guide occurring almost every page (okay, probably every other page) the continuity of the story was constantly interrupted. The story itself also schizophrenically switches between different characters and different locations.Overall this was a somewhat interesting read. It kept with the humorous writing of the original series and had the constant splattering of odd and miscellaneous facts that I remember in previous books. I had trouble getting through the book though because neither the story nor the characters could really keep my interest. I think plot was a little to minced up and unfocused for me. I guess if you are a big fan of the series I would read this book; definitely don't use this book as an entry into the series...you will be totally confused if you do. The original four books still remain the best in my mind. Let's hope that this is the last we see of new books to the HHGTTG series.

[sasham-1 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Captures the essence of hitchhiker's perfectly

[thecrow2 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I started to read this book with mixed feelings. And after finishing it, the mixed feelings remain... Good to see the good old characters, Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect, Zaphod, Trillian, etc. The story not bad either with the vogons and Thor (!). But it's simply not Douglas Adams. A had a premonition that nobody can imitate DNA's unique gularious style and I was right.....

[bragan_8 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

I was so prepared to hate this book. A sequel to Douglas Adams' classic Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series seemed to me like an ill-advised idea to begin with, a clear attempt to cash in on a dead man's legacy. And the choice of Eoin Colfer to write it only cemented that opinion, as I'd read the first two of Colfer's Artemis Fowl novels, and they utterly failed to impress me. In fact, not only was I prepared to hate this thing, I actually got all stupidly self-righteous about my refusal to read it. And then a well-meaning friend bought me a copy for my birthday, thus giving me the opportunity to keep my stupid self-righteousness -- hey, I didn't choose to read the thing, I had to in order to be polite! -- while also being able to satisfy my undeniable curiosity about it.Well, surprise, surprise. It's not awful! It islittle too hard to capture Adams' style and instead ends up with something that feels derivative or forced. Also, he seems to think that goofy made-up alien words and bad-pun names are intrinsically hilarious and automatically make everything funnier. Not only is he wrong about that, but he just doesn't have anywhere near the facility with that kind of thing that Adams did.The plot is very, very silly, which is as it should be. I have slightly mixed feelings about the characters, though. Colfer does a really fun Zaphod, and his Ford is pretty good, too, but Arthur tends to fade into the background a little too much. And I find what he does with Trillian mildly annoying, although it's been long enough since I read the last couple of Hitchhiker's books that I couldn't say for sure whether her characterization is consistent or not.Bottom line: Once I got over the "They let who write what?!" factor and tried to just take it on its own merits, it was a reasonably entertaining story. Definitely not Douglas Adams. But not awful, either.

[tsangal_1 · Calificación: 1 de 5 estrellas]

I hated this book. One of the worst books I've read in a long time. The dialogue and humor felt very juvenile. The characters as portrayed in this book are shallow, not particularly likeable, and nearly indistinguishable from one another. And the numerous "guide notes" came off as completely artificial and arbitrary, lacking any of the wit or charm that we've come to expect from Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker entries. Terrible.

[dystopiism · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

The only reason this is rated so low is because I'm just sick of looking at it and I think it's effecting my judgement.I started reading this directly after spending a few days reading H2G2 Ultimate Guide- I know now I should have waited- and approximately 100 pages to the end I just couldn't do it anymore. I had officially run out of gas and was totally burnt out on Hitchhikers. So it's sat on my shelf for MONTHS until now, when I decided to force my way through it.SO, I actually did enjoy the book. I just caused myself to have a horrible experience (which was entirely my fault).

[paulmorriss · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

As the Hitchhikers trilogy stretched into its fourth and fifth books I felt it got a little weak and I really cannot remember the plots. Eoin has brought it back to life and it was a joy to meet the characters again after so many years. However it's not enough for them to a jolly time, there needs to be something for them to do. So the story gets underway with old minor characters playing a more major part and some new characters. True fans will probably be able to keep themselves busy spotting the difference between the two authors. One thing that I noticed is that in this story there are characters from mythology, like Thor, whereas Douglas Adams tended to create a more self-contained universe.Those real fans may not like this because, of course, nothing can really replace Douglas. However, if you're ready to forgive Eoin for not being him, then this is an enjoyable way to revisit those original characters.