Book Review: Noir by Christopher Moore

(Been a while, I know. Even with my avowed intentions to use this blog to talk about my experiences trying to become a published writer. I didn’t want to sound like I was kvetching —  so instead, I haven’t been posting.

But I got this ARC of Christopher Moore’s newest novel, and I could not think of a better way to come back into my book reviews, at the very least. So here it is.)

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The product model is my birb Duncan.

 

Noir

by Christopher Moore

Trouble walked in, shaped like a dame.

Also shaped like a black mamba. (Though he didn’t walk in.)

Also shaped like an alien straight from the crash in Roswell, New Mexico in 1947. (He didn’t walk in, either. Also might not be a he. I mean, probably not, really.)

Also shaped like the usual suspects from a Christopher Moore novel: smartasses and dumbasses, goons and gadflies, men in drag and women in drag and a venerated Chinese uncle who runs an opium den and has a most unfortunate nickname. (It sort of translates to “cat lover.” In a non-traditional sense.)

The trouble? Noir. In San Francisco, in 1947, and it all comes down on Sammy Two-Toes and his friends and allies, and enemies and victims, and especially on that rotten little foul-mouthed kid that keeps waking Sammy up.

Hate that kid.

But I love him, too. And I loved this book.

It is hilarious: I don’t know of anyone else since Douglas Adams who writes books that can make me laugh out loud, hard enough that I have to put the book down, but Christopher Moore can do it, and he has done it again; from the description of the manly scream on the first page, to the black mamba giving a raspberry to the guy he bit on one of the last pages (Not THE last page; the book ends with one of those wrap-ups describing how everything falls out for all of the characters, and no spoilers here –well, not big ones.), I laughed all the way through this book. There are some fantastic zingers, some absolutely glorious descriptions – my favorite is the one of the whorehouse madame in her tight green dress and flaming red hair described as looking “like a tube of red paint that someone squeezed hard in the middle,” because my God, that is just incredible – and some utterly delicious dialogue, particularly when the characters get into their snappy 1940’s noir patter, which I doubt that anyone writing today could do as well as Moore can. In the afterword, he describes his own book as a cross between Damon Runyan and Bugs Bunny, and I think that’s perfect, too. There is also some slapstick, some goofy sex jokes, a bit of gross humor, as there usually is; because that’s Christopher Moore, too.

And then there is the love story (Remember that dame who walked in and brought trouble? That’s the one). It is wonderfully sweet and romantic, and also a little sad; and for me it elevated this hilarious book into something that I would recommend to anyone who doesn’t mind a little filth in their fun; it’s not the whole plot, as of course there is the wacky story line that I will leave to be discovered, but there is also a Cannery Row sort of story about the boys, the ones who live right on the edge of the skids, but who hang on, mostly because they hang together; on some level this is their story, and it’s a good one. I was rooting for them the whole way. And once again, I don’t want to spoil anything – but at least one of these plot lines turns out all right, which made me walk away with a smile, even after the laughs stopped.

This is a great book. You should read it.

Book Review: Darwinia

Darwinia

by Robert Charles Wilson

 

For the first 100, 150 pages, I really enjoyed this book.

The concept is intriguing: in an alternate history, in 1912, the continent of Europe vanishes and is replaced by a place soon dubbed Darwinia– maybe part of another planet. Wildlands, populated by plant and animal life that bears only a slight resemblance to Earth-life. No humans; no cities. France, Germany, Austria, England, Belgium – all gone. And there are, of course, many interesting repercussions from that, but perhaps most important: no World War.

The main storyline follows an American photographer, Guildford Law, who joins an expedition into the heart of the strange new continent, looking to explore and discover what lies behind the mystery. There are some good and bad parts here, honestly; the main character is a good guy, and the other explorers on the expedition are interesting, both good and bad. The new flora and fauna are very interesting, and the political turmoil that follows on the heels of the magical disappearance of every major power at the time are definitely intriguing. I was annoyed by the photographer’s wife, who struck me as a self-centered pain in the ass, and who has her own storyline, unfortunately. But that wasn’t too bad, really, because it gave me someone to dislike while I was cheering on her husband. The expedition runs into trouble, falling afoul of bandits (who may actually have hidden motivations, and surprising allies.) and harsh conditions. Then they find this abandoned city: completely empty, apparently ancient, certainly not a human artifact. It is something different, built of enormous square blocks of stone, piled together into buildings set into a perfect grid of square angles and straight lines. Cool: a mystery! There is still another story line, with a charlatan who has somehow become possessed with an actual paranormal power: he can channel a powerful spirit, which he calls a god, and maybe he’s right. He works his way into high society, where he begins living a life of debauchery at the urging of his “god.” Meanwhile Guildford Law is trying to survive the harsh winter, trying to keep his sanity despite extremely strange dreams, and his wife is off being a pain in the ass. Everything is going well.

And then Wilson went and screwed the whole thing up. In my opinion.

There’s a twist that comes around this time, between a third of the way and half way through the book. When we find out that none of this is actually true. Not only is the missing continent of Europe explained, but so is the charlatan’s “god,” and Guildford Law’s dreams, and the mysterious abandoned city. And the explanation is crap. It’s obnoxious. Sure, it explains how the European continent could vanish overnight, and what is going on, and it sets up the rest of the book, which is a struggle between Guildford Law and others like him and a terrifying and alien enemy; but it makes the whole book meaningless. It’s as if Law suddenly found out that he’s a character in a science fiction novel by some guy named Robert Charles Wilson. It’s annoying: it feels like the kind of thing that would really amuse a stoned person – though because Wilson is clearly up on his astrophysics, it would have to be a stoned astrophysicist. Unfortunately, I am not a stoned astrophysicist, and so I prefer my novels to be set in real places, with real human characters – even if the places are invented and the characters aren’t entirely human. I can take strangeness; I can’t take the revelation that everything I’m reading is a lie.

The story goes on from there, and there are some good parts; the final battle scene in the abandoned city is great, really. And there’s a wonderful poignant moment, when innocents are killed, and your heart breaks. Good stuff. Wilson’s a good writer.

But I hated this idea. And therefore didn’t really like this book.

 

Oh — and “Darwinia” is a stupid name.