Loner by Teddy Wayne

Published by Simon & Schuster on September 13, 2016

David Federman, a newly arrived freshman at Harvard, quickly finds a girlfriend who is perfect for him (i.e., she is capable of tolerating him) and just as quickly takes an interest in her beautiful roommate. David uses tactics to get close to Veronica that could be characterized as stalking, but it takes some time before Veronica even notices that he exists. When she does notice, she realizes that she can use him to write her papers. And so we have a classic relationship involving a user and a person who wants to be used (albeit in a different way), the kind of relationship that never ends well.

The story is told from David’s perspective, as if he were telling it to Veronica. It doesn’t build suspense in the traditional way, but it does create a sense of foreboding. Neither David, who mistreats his girlfriend and cares only about himself, nor Veronica, who seems to cultivate a tragic air when she’s not manipulating people, are particularly likable characters, so the reader might look forward to something bad happening to one (or preferably both) of them.

The story takes a smart twist near the end as David gains insight into Veronica and fails to gain insight into himself. The ending isn’t as powerful as I was expecting, but it is true to the story that precedes it. Sensitive readers might find it disturbing.

Teddy Wayne’s prose is graceful, but the novel’s real strength lies in its psychological exploration of David, a loner who is so stuck on himself that he has no clue how he is perceived by others. His sense of entitlement might make him a good fit for Harvard, but he is a misfit in any setting, socially awkward and completely invisible to the smug students who surround him. His story opens a window to other young men who derive a misplaced sense of entitlement from their intelligence while lacking the empathy and humility that would help them understand their true place in the world.

RECOMMENDED

Warp by Lev Grossman

First published in 1997; reprint editon published by St. Martin's Griffin on September 20, 2016

Young Hollis Kessler spends much of his time arguing with his friends about the science of Star Trek and saying clever but pointless things like “Lies are like these little peepholes into a better world.” He also has random thoughts, generally in the form of quotations from works he’s read or seen, all of which he inflicts upon the reader. That’s sort of interesting -- the world in Hollis’ head is certainly more interesting than the world he barely inhabits -- but clever writing and a series of references to pop culture aren’t enough to sustain a novel.

Trading on Lev Grossman's success with The Magicians trilogy, the publisher describes Warp as Lev Grossman’s “lost origin novel.” Had it not been for Grossman’s later success, this book would have stayed lost, and deservedly so. Grossman even admits to posting fake reviews on Amazon to boost the average star rating when it first came out, presumably because actual readers know a bad book when they encounter one. It strikes me as self-indulgent and pointless, although the prose certainly evidences a writer who knows how to craft an entertaining sentence.

NOT RECOMMENDED

The Story of a Brief Marriage by Anuk Arudpragasam

Published by Flatiron Books on September 6, 2016

Like any account of war, particularly a civil war that arises out of ethnic conflict, brutal images dominate The Story of a Brief Marriage. Dinesh is in a refugee camp with other Sri Lankans, including children and adults who have lost limbs to shelling and mines. Bombs have flattened the hospitals, so doctors without surgical instruments or anesthetics perform swift amputations with kitchen knives. Dinesh transports the wounded and buries the dead. Staying in the camp, he hopes, will help him avoid involuntary recruitment by the movement.

The camp’s de facto administrator is a former school principal who lost his wife and son in the war. Since life is precarious, he feels a duty to arrange the marriage of his daughter, assuring that someone will take care of her in the event of his death. He decides that Dinesh has the intelligence and character to make him a good match for Ganga. Dinesh is not certain that he is in a position to take care of anyone, but he swallows his reservations and accepts the marriage as a matter of duty.

Humans are capable of astonishing horrors. It is always worth reading books like The Story of a Brief Marriage to be reminded of the senseless, wasteful, and tragic nature of ethnic conflict. The novel is relatively short, which I appreciate when the subject matter is so depressing. It is nevertheless important for people who have no personal exposure to ethnic conflict to gain an understanding of those conflicts from the personal accounts of others, fictional or otherwise.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere created in The Story of a Brief Marriage is stronger than the story it tells. In fact, the title tells the story -- more an incident than a story -- and much of the book’s content seems like filler as the reader waits for the inevitable end to arrive.

Some of the author’s choices of content are strange. The pages devoted to Dinesh’s effort to take a satisfying dump, like the pages devoted to Dinesh’s memories of a dying gecko, I could have lived without. A long stretch during the middle pages, during which Dinesh walks around in the dark and washes clothes while thinking about his life, is inexplicably dull. This is followed by two chapters that are only slightly less dull as Dinesh lies next to Ganga and wonders about their future. Writers can use soaring prose to make contemplative passages memorable, but the simple elegance of Anuk Arudpragasam’s writing style isn’t enough to overcome the weakness of the storytelling.

Any honest book about ethnic content (and The Story of a Brief Marriage is undeniably honest) is enlightening, to a degree. I am tempted not to say anything bad about a novel that addresses such an important subject. Still, this novel struck me as less enlightening than others of its kind. I can recommend the first half for its compelling atmosphere but the second half failed to sustain my interest.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Forsaken Skies by D. Nolan Clark

Published by Orbit on September 6, 2016

Forsaken Skies is a science fiction action novel, a space opera with a bit of military sf thrown in, although the military characters act in a rogue role, not in a sanctioned military operation. With one small exception, the ending is entirely predictable, but the story is well executed and the “feel good” nature of the ending will satisfy space opera fans who want to feel good after investing time in a fairly lengthy novel. Above all, the story is fun. That’s really all that I ask of space opera.

The story begins with a chase through space as Lanoe pursues Thom through wormholes while narrowly avoiding a disastrous encounter with a space station. A collision is averted by the quick thinking by a fellow named Valk. His actions also reveal the presence of two Nirayan stowaways who have come to the station in search of military protection for Niraya, which has recently had an unfortunate visit by a deadly machine. An invasion fleet, presumably bringing more such machines, is on the way.

Centrocorp is duking it out with another poly (transplanetary commercial monopolies) called DaoLink, making DaoLink a likely source of the attack. Many on Niraya view the attack as God’s judgment, although they have some difficulty explaining why God would need to send a fleet of ships instead of, for instance, turning all the Nirayans into pillars of salt.

We eventually learn that Centrocor doesn’t want to spend the money to defend Niraya. And so, naturally enough, Lanoe decides to take on the attacking fleet with the help of a small handful of military pilots (plus one civilian). Although retired as a pilot, the legendary Valk joins that team.

This lengthy novel has an abundance of subplots, including: (1) whether the pacifist Nirayans are willing to pony up for a fight; (2) whether the invaders are polys or aliens; (3) whether Lanoe will renew his romance with his wingwoman, Zhang, who recently exchanged her legless body for that of a younger blind woman; (4) whether Valk and Thom and Lanoe will replace their disenchantment with meaning or purpose (or death); and (5) what the heck us up with Valk anyway?

Predictably, the assembled team of pilots consists of a bunch of misfits, each of a type familiar to readers of science fiction and war novels. The well-born son who has issues with his father. The fighter pilot who lost her nerve. The old pilot who has been relegated to a desk job until he decides it’s time for a last hurrah. The young pilot who is a flying ace but lacks discipline. The aging leader who wants to find a cause worth fighting for. There’s even a familiar engineer who explains science to all the pilots. No, the engineer isn’t named Scotty.

Also predictably, three or four plucky humans can outwit, outfly, and outshoot an entire fleet of enemy ships. It’s good to be human.

Readers should not expect breathtaking prose from Forsaken Skies. Clichéd phrases and melodramatic dialog sneak in a bit too often. I don’t know how many times weapons belched fire or belched missiles or belched something else, but someone should give the weapons systems a dose of antacids. Most of the time, though, the writing is fine and the plot moves along at a steady pace.

Nor should the reader expect deep thought, although Lanoe does philosophize about the military industrial complex that drives war (without using that phrase). This is an action novel, not a novel of ideas, but the action is exciting and easy to visualize, so that’s fine. I can recommend Forsaken Skies to space opera fans who aren’t looking for anything other than a familiar story.

RECOMMENDED

Postscript: I write this review with a vague awareness that a controversy rages between fans who think science fiction is at its best and finest when it tells space opera stories and fans who think science fiction should push the boundaries by dealing with cutting-edge social issues. The former, "conservative" view apparently believes that science fiction should have stopped evolving in the 1950s, while the latter, "liberal" view sees science fiction as a vehicle for advancing social and political issues involving feminism, gender identity, and the like. The controversy apparently manifested itself in an alleged attempt by the conservatives to game the Hugo awards.

Science fiction has long been associated with an open-minded willingness to embrace new ideas, which makes it odd for fans to argue that science fiction shouldn't address the future in political terms. Even classic old-school science fiction, including 1984 and Fahrenheit 451, used science fiction to illuminate political and social issues. Hell, even the original Star Trek blended space opera with scripts that dealt with racism, militarism, and other social issues. The scope of science fiction is certainly broad enough to accommodate both space opera and stories that focus on social evolution, as well as all kinds of other stories. If Hugo awards are more likely to recognize a story that is new and different and provocative rather than a comfortable story that emphasizes the familiar, I don't understand why that merits complaint.

Darktown by Thomas Mullen

Published by Atria/37 INK on September 13, 2016

Darktown begins a few months after the first black police officers are sworn into the Atlanta Police Department. The key characters are a new black officer named Lucius Boggs and a new white officer named Dennis Rakestraw (Rake). Boggs is partnered with another black officer named Tommy Smith. Rake is partnered with Dunlow, an aging cop who prefers to beat black suspects rather than arrest them. Dunlow also encourages witnesses to lie and solicits bribes. Part of the novel involves the moral dilemma that Rake confronts as he decides whether justice includes finding the truth about crimes against black victims rather than blaming the crime on a convenient black suspect.

The primary plot thread concerns the murder of a black woman. Boggs and Smith last see her alive as she flees from a white man’s car. The white man is drunk and crashes into a light pole, but when they call white officers to investigate (because they have no authority to arrest or detain white suspects), Dunlow has a chummy conversation with the driver and lets him go. After the woman’s body is found, Boggs investigates her murder. Since he isn’t a detective, he places his job at risk by delving into a murder investigation, but the murder doesn’t seem to interest the white detectives. Whether justice will be done is the question that carries the novel.

Thomas Mullen has a nuanced view of his characters. The racists have their good moments and the victims of oppression have their bad moments. There is enough complexity in their personalities to make the primary characters realistic, rather than the stereotypes that novels set in a racist environment often become.

In the first half, the plot is just a frame for a larger story of racial injustice. The story’s background details stand as a reminder of how blatant racism endured in the south after the Second World War. Black officers entered the police station and the courthouse via a separate entrance, but they were headquartered in the basement of the black YMCA. They could not enter the courthouse wearing uniforms, but were required to change into their uniforms before testifying (and were assigned a broom closet for that purpose). Unlike white officers, they were not paid overtime for testifying.

The purpose of hiring black officers (at least from Boggs’ perspective) was to stop police brutality, but white officers continue to beat and kill black citizens. Yet the black community leaders (including Boggs’ father), eager for the new black officers to make waves in the department, don’t understand or appreciate what the new officers must endure every day if they want to keep their jobs — and their lives.

The first half might be a bit overdone, sacrificing pace for building a background. Fortunately, the story builds tension in the second half as Boggs and Rake pursue separate but converging investigations when they should be walking their beats. The crime is more complex than it first appears to be, which gives the story an extra shot of intrigue. The plot has the hallmarks of a classic noir mystery, making the novel an enjoyable read both for mystery fans and for readers who want to get a better sense of life in the segregated south shortly after World War II.

RECOMMENDED