Tag Archives: near-future dystopian science fiction

Review of Sound Mind by Tricia Sullivan

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I came across a copy of Sound Mind at the local library, did a happy jig and snagged it off the shelves on the grounds that Tricia Sullivan’s shopping lists probably make an interesting read…

When Cassidy Walker stumbles into the middle of the highway, bloodied and bruised, Bard College in flames behind her, and manages to flag down a ride, she thinks the worst is over. Arriving in the nearby town of Red Hook, Cassidy tries to call her parents but the phone lines are down. Later she will discover that no radio or television signals are being received. The town, it seems, is cut off from the rest of the world – no one can get in and no one can get out. But that’s not the strangest thing by a long shot…  There is more – but it ventures into Spoiler Country and I’ve views on ruining the reader’s experience by giving too much away in blurting blurbs.

This story starts with a bang as Sullivan’s books generally do. And Cassidy is a wholly convincing, entertaining protagonist whose terrifying experiences are vividly portrayed. Although it gradually becomes clear that she isn’t exactly what she initially seems. Sullivan is a highly intelligent writer who isn’t afraid to push the envelope. As with all such artists, this means that the results can be variable.

The overall story is full of tension and adventure and – mostly – moves along at a good clip. It was only about halfway through that I realised that Sound Mind is a sequel to Double Vision, which I’d read before I was organised enough to make a note of every book I read, on account of my chronically awful memory. Despite the fact that I couldn’t recall much about Double Vision, I didn’t have too much difficulty grasping what was going on in Sound Mind, so it certainly ticks the box of not relying on the first book in the duology to make it a viable read.

One of Sullivan’s trademarks is to start with a credible problem set in a recognisable primary world setting, always portrayed with pin-sharp clarity. And as the story advances, she steadily pushes the borders of normality until we are confronted with something that is right on the edge of the fantastical – while still within the science fiction genre. Unlike a number of science fiction writers, Sullivan has no problem keeping her protagonists vulnerable and sympathetic as they are subjected to a series of increasingly bizarre ordeals. I really enjoyed the ending, which after the fantastic, multi-layered plot, could so easily have sold the reader short. It doesn’t.

The role of music is thoroughly explored within this novel. Cassidy is a music student and comes to believe that it is one of her taped compositions that has brought into being the destruction that has sealed off Red Hook. She explains to the reader exactly what she was trying to achieve and why – and goes into a lot of fairly academic detail about her feelings about music as a personal anchor for her. As ever, Sullivan’s work is layered and clever, with constant touches of humour to help leaven the chaos and violence – and her discussions about music throughout the book are often enlightening and entertaining. However, there are also a few places where I think some judicious editing would have improved the pace of what is – essentially – an adventure story. I love the fact that science fiction is a genre where the story is often not only an entertaining escapist read, but a vehicle to explore ideas and themes, although this is something of a balancing act. At times, the discussions/explanations about the role of music silt up the pace and I found myself skimming across these sections, particularly in the second half of the book.

But this is a minor quibble about a book that once more establishes Sullivan as a major voice in the genre, who deserves a great deal more exposure than she gets. And if you also are fortunate enough to find a copy of the book in your local library or secondhand bookshop – scoop it up. You’ll thank me if you do…
8/10

Review of Lightborn by Tricia Sullivan

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Tricia Sullivan is a wonderful talent – I was absolutely blown away by Dreaming of Smoke and Maul, but am disappointed – and shocked – to learn that only her latest book, Lightborn, is still in print. Hopefully, some farsighted epublishing company will be importuning her about releasing her back catalogue very soon.

Lightborn is a revolutionary new technology that has transformed the modern world. Better known as ‘shine’, it is the ultimate in education, self-improvement and entertainment – beamed directly into the mind of anyone who can meet the asking price. But what do you do if the shine in question has a mind of its own…?

Yipee! At last – a blurb that actually does what it should – give the reader a brief insight into the book’s theme and subject matter WITHOUT blurting out a whole tranche of spoilers along the way. Gold star for Orbit.

We follow the fortunes of two youngsters, Roksana and Xavia as they struggle to cope when life in the Arizona town of Los Sombres falls apart as the adults all go mad. This being Sullivan, don’t expect classic dystopian, ‘Oh my God, the world is falling apart, isn’t this awful?’ What marks her out as such a joy to read, is that she is an author who assumes her readers are intelligent enough to keep up without having everything spelt out. So as we watch both Roksana and Xavia’s characters mature throughout the catastrophe and follow their personal griefs and coping strategies, their personal stories steadily unfold. They are both complex and interestingly three-dimensional – and Sullivan isn’t afraid to show their less likeable traits.

The role of parenthood and caring is examined as the children are forced to become responsible for their mentally damaged parents – and this being a Sullivan novel, there are no slick, tailor-made answers served up. Roksana’s father, a shine guru, is an inadequate parent who refuses to engage with her on an emotional level, despite his ability to provide protection against the lightborn. As people battle to rebuild their lives after the initial catastrophe, Sullivan also looks at what constitutes a functioning community by providing two quite distinct models – those survivors in Los Sombres scraping together a functioning existence from the wreckage, while also dodging the Government forces; and the community that the local Indian tribe have fostered on a ranch in the wilderness, as far away from the influence of the shine that they can get.

I am conscious that in teasing out these strands, I may have given the impression that the actual storyline is a worthy attempt to dissect these issues – and Lightborn is nothing of the sort. The books starts with a bang, whisking the reader immediately into the narrative and as there is no limited omniscient info-dump silting up the action, you need to pay attention, because this is a fast-paced book. The worldbuilding is absolutely fit for purpose – and if we would like more insights to the overarching political role of the near-future America in which this all plays out, then we fill in the blanks ourselves. As Xavier and Roksana aren’t concerned with how American interests mesh with the rest of the world, this isn’t an aspect that figures in the novel – and that’s fine with me.

Her writing, as ever, is wonderful. Dialogue is pitch perfect and the passages describing the sentient lightborn as it interacts with the human brain is brutal and beautiful. As you may have gathered, I highly rate this book. Any niggles? Nope. Not a single one. But don’t take my word for it – go find a copy and read it yourself. You won’t be sorry you did…
10/10

Review of Theories of Flight – Book 2 of the Metrozone series by Simon Morden

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Once more, Orbit have done their trick of releasing a whole series over a very short timespan – and that’s fine with me when on completing the first book, Equations of Life, I was able to immediately dive straight into the sequel.

Welcome to the Metrozone, England’s last surviving city. We are experiencing technical difficulties and the threat of extreme violence. Please report anything suspicious to what’s left of the authorities. The blurb goes on for a little bit longer, but if you haven’t read the first book, yet, then anything else I add will become a spoiler – so I’m stopping right there. Suffice to say that Russian refugee Samuil Petrovitch is still up to his ears in a lot of trouble – in between trying to unravel one of the most crucial equations in the universe…

I’ll say this for Morden – he doesn’t think small. There is a stagey, epic feel to this dystopian vision, which once more whips into action and sets off at a rollicking pace that doesn’t pause for breath until the end. And, again, I was swept along with the all the improbable twists and turns, more than happy to suspend my disbelief – most of the time.  The story has only moved forward a short while since Equations of Life, but this being Morden country, plenty has occurred during the interval. Again, I’m not saying more, as we are otherwise in Spoiler Territory. There were several plotlines with dangling threads that I assumed would be neatly tucked away in the subsequent novels. Well, they were tucked, alright – though there isn’t anything neat in Theories of Flight.

Morden immediately took the story off in a completely unexpected direction – which left me feeling just a tad frustrated, as I had expected – and wanted – to spend more time with some of the enjoyable, eccentric characters who had appeared in the first book. However, the upside is (and probably why he did it) that if for any reason you do read the books out of sequence, you probably won’t find it a particularly jarring experience as they are more or less standalone.

Any grizzles? Well, once more, Samuil is subjected to a great deal of physical punishment and near the end of the book I became frankly incredulous that anyone could remain conscious, never mind still able to retaliate on any level. I’m still not sure why Morden feels it necessary to subject his suffering protagonist to quite so much pain and injury – it cannot be on the grounds of wanting to ‘keep it real’. There isn’t all that much reality about the premise, if you step out of Morden’s frenetic world and take a couple of deep breaths to think it through. Other than that caveat, once again, I found Morden’s pace and plotting irresistible and I’m looking forward to plunging into the third book in the series. However, this time, I’m going to take a break and read something else. Something slower and less exhausting…
8/10

Review of Equations of Life – Book 1 of the Metrozone series by Simon Morden

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The cool, densely black and white patterned cover implicitly announces that this is science fiction with a difference and the blurb reinforces that declaration. This near-future dystopian romp has a distinctly urban fantasy feel.

You are now entering the London Metrozone. The time is 7:35, two decades after Armageddon. Mind the gap.

Samuil Petrovitch = a survivor. He survived the nuclear fallout in St. Petersburg and hid in the London Metrozone: the last city in England. He’s lived this long because he’s a man of rules and logic.

For example: getting involved = a bad idea. But when he stumbles into a kidnapping in progress, he acts without even thinking. Before he can stop himself, he’s saved the daughter of the most dangerous man in London. And clearly: saving the girl = getting involved. Now the equation of Petrovitch’s life is looking increasingly complex.

The story hinges around Petrovitch and his adventures after his ill advised intervention during the kidnapping attempt and is told in third person POV. Despite the fact that Petrovitch is a scientist and in the middle of trying to survive the unwanted attentions of a variety of powerful people, he is also nursing a failing heart and trying to produce a world-changing equation. Despite the gritty dystopian cloak, this action-packed tale is not the visceral cyber-nightmare I was sort of expecting.

As for the idea that Simon Morden is the next Richard Morgan – hm, I’m not convinced. Morden might get bleaker as the series progresses, but throughout Equations of Life there is just too much rollicking joie de vivre bouncing through the chaos and destruction for any true Morganesque comparisons. Kovacs is capable of flashes of savage humour – but the breathless pace of Morden’s storytelling, with the constant plot twists corkscrewing off in all sorts of unpredictable directions without a pause for any sort of info-dump, or tastelessly graphic sex scene, gives Morden’s work an original charm all of its own. In fact, I think Petrovitch’s adventures have more in common with the early Harry Dresden stories…

In addition to the strong protagonist, there is an entertaining cast of enjoyable supporting characters, such as a fighting nun, a Machiavellian policeman and an entertainingly eccentric genius, some of whom will, no doubt, make further appearances in the next instalment of Petrovitch’s efforts to keep out of trouble. So, does Morden manage to deliver a suitably climactic ending to this action-packed tale? Yes – and there is also a cliff-hanging twist that has me toppling the stack of books piled beside my bed to get to the second in the series, Theories of Flight – and I don’t risk major injury to get to a book all that often…
9/10