Much has changed in the world since Ariel was first published in 1983. When I saw that Ariel was going to be reprinted, I thought about revising it to accommodate those changes. Then I realized that an important plot point and thematic element hinges on something that doesn't exist anymore (you'll know it when you see it, and I discuss it in the new Afterword). Changing that would entail a fairly extensive revision, essentially making Ariel a different book. And changing everything but that would make it even more jarring.
I feel that, unless it's a case of restoring omitted material—which I'm delighted to have been able to do here—or fixing some truly egregious grammatical or plot error, a released work is an implicit snapshot of its creator during its creation, a glimpse of where that person was in his craft and interests at that time. And even a fantasy novel (particularly this one) is an implicit portrait of the world in which it was created. Altering those details, especially major plot points, would make me feel a bit like Winston Smith working in the Ministry of Truth.
So in addition to making the time-honored request of fantasy readers to suspend disbelief, Ariel also asks you to travel all of 26 years and leave behind a world that is much more crowded and has more cars, buildings, and freeways, along with cell phones, e-mail, GPS, wi-fi, and all the rest of the electronic infrastructure that is now so deeply embedded it is becoming invisible. Heck, even backpacks and camping gear are more sophisticated now.
—Steven R. Boyett
. . .We fight rather to keep something alive
than in the expectation that anything will triumph.
—T.S. Eliot