The Quantum Thief by Hannu Rajaniemi

Published by Tor on May 10, 2011

As you might suspect from the title, the story told in The Quantum Thief involves a thief. The thief's current identity is Jean le Flambeur (his past identities are something of a mystery, even to him). The novel opens with Jean escaping from a Dilemma Prison, busted out by Mieli (with an assist from her artificially intelligent ship) so that Jean can carry out an assignment for Mieli. She takes him to the Moving City of the Oubliette on Mars, where Jean's storyline intersects a couple of others: Isidore Beautrelet's investigation of a murder that resulted from pirating the victim's gogol (essentially, the uploading and enslavement of his mind), and Raymonde's attempt to get to the bottom of an apparent political conspiracy that jeopardizes the ideals of freedom and privacy upon which the Oubliette was founded. Along the way the reader discovers that the relationships among the primary characters are complex if not Byzantine.

The Quantum Thief is filled with richly inventive ideas. I particularly like the notion of using Time as currency: when a person's allocated Time in Oubliette has all been spent, his body dies (to be held in storage pending resurrection) while his gogol becomes part of a collective that keeps the city functioning. Another intriguing concept is the ability to make memories private or public, to share them selectively with others. Fun stuff, but ideas alone do not a novel make. A common flaw in hard science fiction is a lack of balance between the science and the fiction, with ample attention given to futuristic concepts but not enough to the demands of storytelling: a coherent plot, fully developed characters, dramatic tension, credible dialog, and the like. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Hannu Rajaniemi crafted a novel that gives due attention to these requirements. His characters have intriguing personalities, the story is carefully paced and the storylines come together nicely at the end. The novel is a skillful blend of science fiction and political thriller. The ending is a bit abrupt, the solutions to the novel's many mysteries seemingly jammed together in the last few pages, but overall The Quantum Thief tells an entertaining, capably crafted story that explores the themes of freedom and privacy in a thought-provoking manner. The ending also leaves open the possibility of (and practically invites) a sequel.

The novel employs a number of terms that are defined only by their context, a technique that avoids pace-slowing exposition but risks confusion to the extent that their meaning is unclear. I happened upon a Glossary of terms in The Quantum Thief in Wikipedia that struggling readers might find helpful. Readers who prefer to puzzle it out for themselves, or who simply have a more intuitive understanding of invented terminology than I do, probably regard reliance on the glossary as cheating, but I was grateful for its existence. Because the novel covers such unfamiliar ground, I found it made for tough sledding at times; occasionally I had to reread paragraphs before I could absorb them fully. I don't say that to put readers off; on the contrary, difficult novels are often more rewarding than easy ones, and that is true of The Quantum Thief. In any event, after awhile the brain adjusts and the world Rajaniemi created starts to become recognizable. I recommend the novel to fans of hard sf and I look forward to seeing more from Rajaniemi. 

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The Gods of Greenwich by Norb Vonnegut

Published by Minotaur on April 26, 2011

Although I've enjoyed financial thrillers by Joseph Finder and Steven Gore (I haven't yet gotten to Stephen Frey or Christopher Reich), I approach them with some trepidation because for me, reading about finance is about as exciting as watching the Dow Jones ticker scrolling along the bottom of a television screen. As I began The Gods of Greenwich, however, those concerns vanished and never returned. The plot is smart and compelling, the characters are engaging, and Norb Vonnegut's writing style is energetic. This isn't a book that bogs down in the jargon of arbitrageurs and commodities brokers. Like a volatile market, the plot moves in unforeseen directions with unexpected speed.

Wealth, power, and crime are the key ingredients in a financial thriller. In The Gods of Greenwich, they are present in abundance. Norb Vonnegut creates credible characters from the financial world, both shady and relatively honest, while adding a ruthless female contract killer to the mix. The characters are strong, familiar without becoming stereotypical. Cy Leeser is the ultimate money managing jerk, complete with a trophy wife who isn't quite good enough, a 19,000-square-foot home that isn't quite big enough, a family that isn't quite large enough, a priceless art collection that isn't quite exclusive enough, and an oversize ego that's more than enough to make readers crave his downfall. Jimmy Cusack is a young hedge fund manager who is less successful than Leeser; the sluggish economy has caused his clients (including his father-in-law) to bail, forcing him to join Leeser's hedge fund team to save his condo from foreclosure. Jimmy's wife Emi suffers from a facial recognition disorder. Ólafur is a managing director at Hafnarbanki, Reykjavik's oldest bank, a rising star whose job depends upon thwarting Leeser's plan to drive down the value of the bank's stock. The contract killer is Rachel Whittier, an innovative murderer whose connection to the main story remains a mystery for much of the novel (as does the identity of her employer). Equally mysterious during the novel's first half is the role that will be played by Cusack's best friend, a trader dubbed "the Geek," who, like Ólafur, has ties to some powerful people in Qatar. Leeser's bodyguard, his head trader, and his feisty trophy wife (who is also a bestselling novelist from years past) round out the cast.

Leeser's fund makes money no matter how much the market falls. How he hedges the fund's investments -- his "secret sauce" -- is a mystery that provides the key not only to his success but to the novel's dramatic tension. (The hedge turns out to be ... creative. I'm not at all sure it would work outside of thriller world, but it's creative nonetheless.) The reader's sympathy rests with Cusack, who finds himself caught in the middle of a conflict he doesn't understand. Through much of the novel he's fretting about financial risk (he has money problems galore); it only dawns on him gradually that both he and his wife are facing a much greater risk, endangered by sources they can't identify for reasons they can't penetrate.

Greenwich, Connecticut is the epicenter of the hedge fund industry. Vonnegut demonstrates his familiarity with both the location and the financial machinations of the ultra wealthy. I felt some guilty pleasure in reading about the troubles that befall the hedge fund "gods" when the market tumbles (what a shame it is when a diner can only afford two $1,200 bottles of cabernet with dinner instead of the usual three!). But the novel is based on suspense, not on deriding the wealthy, and suspense builds nicely as Vonnegut steers the characters on their collision course. The wild, frenetic climax ensures the novel's classification as a thriller.

For the most part, Vonnegut writes with flair. My only criticism of the novel is that Vonnegut sometimes indulges in metaphors that don't quite work. At other times they enliven the story. Perhaps Vonnegut isn't the first writer to refer to Ferraris and Aston Martins as "four wheeled Viagra" but it's the first time I've seen the phrase and it made me smile. Some readers were apparently put off by one of the final scenes (the zoo scene, for those who have read the book); I thought it was fun. The action at the zoo isn't chilling but it gave the ending some zest. While it may have stretched the limits of plausibility I didn't think it required a greater suspension of disbelief than is common in thrillers. In any event, it's a rather small episode in a dynamic, suspenseful novel.

The snappy writing, the clever plot, the lively pace, and the credible characters add up to make The Gods of Greenwich the best financial thriller I've read. 

RECOMMENDED

Lucifer's Tears by James Thompson

Published by Putnam on March 17, 2011

Whenever I read a novel written by a Scandinavian, I feel the need to button up my parka and don a fur-lined ushanka. James Thompson (American by birth, resident of Finland by choice) writes so convincingly about cold Finnish nights that the novel left me shivering. Of course, the plot -- involving a gruesome murder and atrocities committed in two wars -- may have inspired some of those shivers.

A blood-covered body is found in Rein Saar's bed. Saar claims to have been knocked unconscious before waking up next to the corpse. Homicide inspector Kari Vaara (last seen in Snow Angels, which I haven't read) and his braniac partner Milo Nieminen are assigned to the case. The man who has the strongest motive to kill the victim has a strong alibi: he was partying with the national chief of police at the time of the victim's death. Political corruption and kinky sexual practices enliven the plot, but those are overshadowed by Vaara's discovery that one of Finland's greatest war heroes may be concealing a shameful past.

James Thompson will inevitably be compared to Stieg Larsson (indeed, my advance reader's copy, which I won in a contest, makes that comparison on its cover). Thompson doesn't match Larsson's convoluted plotting, but he comes close, and Thompson's writing is less ponderous. Thompson's characters aren't quite as compelling as Lisbeth Salander, but they have strong, intriguing personalities. Nieminen is the Scandinavian version of the cowboy cop: a bit reckless, eager to use his weapon, but unique in that he's gifted with a Mensa-level IQ and an ego to match. Vaara is an interesting mix of Sensitive Guy and Dirty Harry whose visits to a therapist aren't reducing his stress. The supporting characters, including Vaara's American wife and her siblings, are weaker; Thompson relied on stereotypes when he created them. By the same token, the villains aren't particularly interesting; they channel thriller villains we've seen many times before.

Thompson is a capable writer; his style isn't flashy but it isn't dull. The story moves at a brisk pace and it always held my interest. The novel's ending sets up the next in the series in a couple of ways: by creating some concern about Vaara's welfare and by altering his job responsibilities. Even without the setup, I'd be looking forward to Vaara's continuing adventures.

The characters in Lucifer's Tears express varying opinions on a variety of hot-button topics, including Finland's approach to abortion and health care, America's invasion of Iraq, and Finland's alliance with Germany in World War II. I thought those discussions added interest to the novel but some readers might be offended by the opinions that the characters express. Readers who prefer their thrillers to steer clear of controversial political issues should probably avoid this novel. The novel includes graphic descriptions of sex and violence as well as some rough language. Readers who are offended by content of that nature might not like this novel. For readers who aren't bothered by those caveats, I would recommend Lucifer's Tears as a reasonably enjoyable thriller. 

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When the Thrill Is Gone by Walter Mosley

Published by Riverhead on March 8, 2011

A woman who claims to be Cyril Tyler's wife tells private detective Leonid McGill that her wealthy husband is responsible for the deaths of his first two wives. She wants McGill to save her from becoming his next victim. In need of money, McGill accepts the case but soon suspects that the woman is not in fact Chrystal Tyler. His attempt to resolve the mystery brings him into contact with the rich and poor, cops and thugs, captive children and corpses. Along the way his own children and other members of his unconventional family add to his angst.

Walter Mosley populates his sentences with observations as bright and multifaceted as gemstones. He's as much a philosopher as a mystery writer. Mosley describes a deceased character in When the Thrill Is Gone as "a complex thinker who worried about a pedestrian world." He might have been describing himself. Mosley understands human nature in all its wonderful variation. He writes eloquently but succinctly about love and betrayal, race and poverty, hard life and bitter death. Mosley gives depth to his characters while honing his story to its essentials, never miring the plot in wasted words. His dialog is snappy; his descriptions are vivid. Although the story moves with blazing speed, I found myself reading sentences and paragraphs two or three times, slowing the pace of my reading to savor Mosley's prose.

Mosley sprinkles effective doses of humor into the narrative. The story feels authentic, as do the characters: quirky enough to be interesting but grounded in life's daily pleasures and misfortunes. The mystery itself, including its resolution, is rather ordinary; the plot is engaging but unspectacular. The tale Mosley tells in When the Thrill Is Gone almost seems secondary to the writing itself. Its value is as a vehicle to drive the story of McGill's life, a fascinating life we glimpse over the course of a few days. The mystery of McGill is more interesting than the mystery he solves.

This is Mosley's third novel featuring Leonid McGill but the first I've read. The narrative makes repeated references to past events in McGill's life, some of which I assume were chronicled in the first two books. Not having read them didn't impair my understanding of the story Mosley tells in When the Thrill is Gone, but I suspect that reading them would have given me a deeper understanding of McGill. That's an omission I intend to rectify: Leonid McGill is an intriguing character -- a literate man who prefers the "rough-and-tumble of brutish men and their misplaced confidence" -- and I want to know him better.

McGill's father was a Marxist and although McGill seems rather apolitical, he likes to reminisce about his father's lessons, many of which pit working class heroes against corporate versions of robber barons. That might disturb those readers who don't want to read about political opinions in a mystery, or those who assume that a character's opinions necessarily reflect those of the author. Those readers might want to avoid this novel. To all other readers -- not just mystery fans but anyone who enjoys strong writing -- I recommend When the Thrill Is Gone. 

RECOMMENDED

Moondogs by Alexander Yates

Published by Doubleday on March 15, 2011

Moondogs has the feel of a movie with an ensemble cast. Monique Thomas works at the American Embassy in Manila. Her marriage to her "trailing spouse," Joseph, is troubled, and Monique's secretive extramarital activities aren't helping. Benicio Bridgewater has a difficult relationship with his father, Howard, but is working to rehabilitate it after his mother's death. He travels to the Philippines to visit Howard but shortly before his arrival, Howard is kidnapped by Ignacio, a taxi driver who is always accompanied by his cigarette smoking rooster. Efrem Khalid Bakkar is a Muslim soldier, the best sharpshooter in the Armed Forces of the Philippines, until he's traded to an elite group of law enforcement agents led by the legendary Reynato Ocampo, whose exploits are chronicled in a series of popular films known as Ocampo Justice. In the movies, Ocampo is played by the charismatic Charlie Fuentes, a friend of Howard's who is running for a senate seat. The real Ocampo is working on Fuentes' campaign when he's not fighting crime with his agents, each of whom wields a magic power. The novel bounces from character to character, eventually merging their stories into an engaging plot that centers around Howard Bridgewater's kidnapping.

There are many things to like about Moondogs. Yates writes about the Philippines with obvious affection and good humor but never whitewashes the country's problems (corruption chief among them). He creates lively, multidimensional characters. He tells a good story. Although I wouldn't say the novel delivers "laugh out loud" humor, it's quite amusing. The pace is brisk and the action scenes are exciting. By the time I reached the last third of the novel, I was completely absorbed.

Yet Moondogs is not without its flaws. Yates' writing style, although mostly competent, is sometimes unpolished, occasionally bordering on amateurish. An episode of family drama involving Monique's son doesn't work very well; it's a distraction that doesn't advance the plot. One of the concluding chapters is a little cheesy. The ending drags a bit. Finally, while Yates tries to trade on superstitions harbored by some Filipinos, it's difficult to integrate magic into a novel that isn't grounded in magic (like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter). It takes a skilled hand to mix fantasy into a reality-based novel (Haruki Murakami does it beautifully in Kafka on the Shore); Yates doesn't quite demonstrate the ability to make it work.

Despite those flaws, I enjoyed the novel and its characters. I recommend it to readers looking for an offbeat, lighthearted thriller.  

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