Guest Review: The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi

Today's review comes to you from Jason Letts, author of the Powerless series and The Inevitable Trilogy. I thank him greatly for contributing this review.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi is a rich dystopian fantasy that seemed to sit perfectly at the intersection of a number of interests near and dear to my heart.

To understand everything going on in this story of power and survival, a reader must have a hand in a number of different pots. In the near future, the world has coalesced around Bangkok as its thriving epicenter. Those familiar with current events will know that Thailand is tagging along with India and China as a surging developing country, and so it’s interesting to think about how it could have not only leapt ahead but flourished while current economic powers decline. Despite an acknowledgement in the end notes that this is not the case, future Bangkok seems an awful lot like present Bangkok, the crazyness of which compelled me to leave it after just one day while traveling the country. Poverty and commotion at the bottom compete with warring government agencies at the top for the prize of which aspect of society is the least stable. It’s a wonder the country managed to peak at all, but apparently they found a way.

Much of this has to do with the growth of genetic manipulation as an industry that both combats and creates a number of futuristic plagues: cibiscosis, blister rust, Nippon (Japanese) genehack weevil. These words complement a textual language that is both challenging to grapple with and sometimes slow to trudge through. Language fans will encounter a handful of Thai and Japanese words, travelers will meet with Thai names and places that must either be looked up or glossed over, science buffs will face some scientific concepts concerning calories and joules that add depth to how society functions, and everyone will have to slog through noticeable typos and errors that occur way too frequently (I read the Kindle version). Altogether, the thick prose always gives you something in the way of color and only occasionally drifts into the realm of over-writing.

Because of plagues that lead to famines that lead to starvation, the creation of new food sources is critical. At the beginning of the story, Anderson, an American businessman operating in Thailand, wants to get his hands on the next big genetic creation.

The story shifts between several points of view, and a lot happens before we finally meet the title character, Emiko, a Japanese “Windup.” The fun for the first quarter of the book was trying to figure out exactly what she is. Where is the line between machine and human? But figuring out what she is occurs simultaneously with severe scrutiny over what she stands for. Emiko is essentially a sex slave, which to a large degree is the purpose of her creation. Maybe it’s just because I lived in Japan for two years, but I think there’s a very special place in the Western consciousness for Japanese women as sexual objects. The author does a good job of linking cultural perspectives to characters, but I found more to resist in the insistence that we feel sorry for her. She is obviously the crux of the story, and her growth constantly comes in conflict with the premises for her creation and behavior. Although I could go along with most of it, I’m sure there’ll be more than a few readers for whom she slides into contradiction or cliché. She is the most problematic part of the story, but if you can buy her (no pun intended) then everything else will work great.

I did have a wonderful time with the story, which was both elaborate and expansive. The characters were interesting. I felt invested in the unfolding plot even though there were still some things that went over my head. I’m satisfied with the ending. Overall, a good reading experience.

Paperback:





Ebook:

Review: Hollowland by Amanda Hocking

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

I love horror. In the past, I would read nothing but. It encapsulated my every reading and viewing experience for years. There was just something about how much these works, when done well, could be so emotionally and intellectually viable, that made them so appealing.

In this regard, I’ve only had one complaint – the dearth of female contributors to the genre. Truth be told, I adore the feminine perspective, but their presence has been lacking. Sure, we have Anne Rice, but she hasn’t written anything that’s appealed to me since Memnoch the Devil. And then we have Stephanie Meyer…but to put her works of paranormal teenage lust under the horror umbrella is severely misguided. And that’s about it.

But then recently I discovered Amanda Hocking, and I think I’m in love.

Now, most of Hocking’s books definitely fall into the paranormal romance/young adult category, which doesn’t necessarily interest me. However, I received her newest novel, Hollowland, as a review copy, and I have to tell you…this is horror done just about perfectly.

Hollowland is the story of Remy, a nineteen-year-old survivor of the zombie apocalypse. The novel throws you right into the action; at the beginning, the quarantine she is living in (somewhere in the Nevada desert) falls under attack by the hungry undead. She escapes, along with a thirteen-year-old girl named Harlow. Remy’s younger brother Max, who also lived there, had been evacuated when the invasion began. Remy, as his only surviving family member, takes it upon herself to find him once more.

Just as with most apocalyptic novels, this one is a journey. Remy and Harlow head north, in search of Max. Along the way they meet up with Blue, a not-quite-doctor, and Lazlo, a young man who’d been in one of those pop-punk bands (think Blink-182) before the world they all knew collapsed into man-eating madness. Remy also, in one of the quirkier aspects of the book, discovers a lioness hooked up to a trailer. Remy saves the lion and it becomes another travel companion – one that is, since animals are immune to the virus that has destroyed modern civilization, indispensible when it comes to helping her small pride survive the various attacks that occur.

So this odd group heads north, encounters zombies, fights zombies, gain new travel companions, watch some of those new companions die, and eventually reach the quarantine. And that’s about it for the plot. It’s basic, as far as zombie tale goes. But that’s not what I found so likeable about it.

The characters are brilliant – Remy in particular. She’s morose and unfriendly, an individual who’s bound to her duty and responsibility, and who’s also been understandably tainted by her experiences following the end of the world. She carries herself with a quiet strength that is beautiful and haunting at the same time. Harlow, her companion, is still young and often a bit more sensible than her protector. She is prone to outbursts of immaturity, and she holds a longing for some sort of normality that causes her to perhaps look past certain aspects of the people they meet, aspects that could prove dangerous, in the anticipation they could perhaps give her a safer, less hectic existence. Combine the two of them, and a somewhat depressing theme washes over the words that I find rare when considering the subgenre of apocalyptic zombie fiction. These are no more than children we have here, and the text doesn’t lose sight of the fact that they’ve lost their childhoods. In fact, this is in some ways the main point – that the girls are girls and they (especially Remy) lament the fact they’ve had to become women quickly. As I said, this is something I appreciate, a practical facet of storytelling that many who’ve written end-of-the-world tales (this side of McCarthy) tend to ignore.

And this is only one of the many themes presented within. Just as with the best horror, the monsters are simply part of the story, and the true moral is told with them as a backdrop. In fact, often it is the people, themselves, who are the real monsters. From the messianic zealot they meet (aptly named Korech, meaningful for those of you who remember Waco, Texas) to the violent marauders that populate one of the towns they come across, it ends up being regular old un-infected humans who beget some of the worst malevolence found within. And when you combine these ill-meaning actions with the sometimes selfish actions of Remy and her crew, you can see how those shades of gray filter into the characters, making every decision difficult. This adds to the hard-line feel that Remy, in particular, encapsulates. She is a woman on a mission, after all. How much of herself is she willing to sacrifice?

The answer, come the end of the book, is everything. And it’s beautiful.

I found very few flaws with this novel. It’s told in first-person, which isn’t my favorite viewpoint (though I have used it in the past, myself), but for this it works. It allows us to see the world through Remy’s jaded eyes, to feel her dissatisfaction and doubt, to understand how much she simply wants to be the teenager she is. In fact, come the final pages, it is only through her giving in to her humanity, when she finally allows herself to live rather than simply survive, that she is able to follow through with the hardest choice she’s made in her life. In that moment I cried out for her, wishing I could dive into the page and change her mind.

Hollowland is a fast read. I completed it in about four hours of engrossed reading. It’s simple in structure but complex in emotion. Author Hocking doesn’t shy away from gore (it’s there in abundance, of course, being a book about dead folks that eat people), but the violence of the piece doesn’t overwhelm the reader. It has everything a horror novel should have, and is entirely captivating. In other words, Hollowland is a rare treat, like a fine wine we know we should savor but can’t help consuming at a rapid pace because, well, it’s just so good. Hollowland might not redefine the genre, but it just may change the fact that women have been so sparse. This is something I hope to happen, because, well, it needs to.

Amanda Hocking is a master storyteller. She knows how to reel in her reader and keep them glued to her words. Anyone who has any interest at all in reading a well-told story needs to read this. It’s fantastic, horrific, and strangely beautiful. Once you reach the open ending, you’ll hope the writer decides to continue with Remy’s tale, because you’ll want to see these wonderfully fleshed-out characters carry out their journey to its conclusion.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

Purchase Hollowland in the Kindle Store, or in paperback.

Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly by Kipp Poe Speicher

Rating: 1.2 out of 5

When folks send work for me to consider reviewing, I usually read the first bit of the sample to decide if I’d like to carry on with it. Most of the time, my initial assumption based on the text is correct and I enjoy the experience. Other times (and these are in the minority), I’m dead wrong.

Closing My Eyes Helps Me See Clearly, which is a compilation of two short stories by Kipp Poe Speicher, is the latter.

The first short story, which I assume is the title piece, is the tale of a man who wakes in a dream world that is falling apart. It begins with a description of the world told through the eyes of a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, which is what drew me into the piece to begin with. It then moves along to the viewpoint a man who watches a little girl being run over. He goes to help her, only to find that no one seems to care.

The story progresses, and eventually ends, and we discover that everything happening up to that point is a dream and what is actually occurring is the end of our universe. It doesn’t really have a plot…more of a stream-of-consciousness like prose, which I do appreciate at times. However, I feel the author’s ability wasn’t up to the challenge and I came away feeling a bit blech about it. Not always a good sign when trying to lure someone in with a short story – though I feel, with a good deal of work, this could be turned into a piece of some power.

Then came the second tale, and I actually wished for that blech feeling to return.

Gas For Grass, the aforementioned second story, begins with a dream that is nothing but a graphic description of a sexual act, and moves on, once the main character wakes up, to become the most disgusting and pointless revenge fantasy I’ve ever read. There is absolutely no purpose to the story, other than to describe the ways one person can do horrendous things to another for no reason whatsoever. There is not a single redeeming quality. It has nothing to say, no theme, and if the author wanted to construct a disturbing allegory on the state of the world, he failed. It’s simply disgusting, bigoted, and, as I said before, pointless.

Now, all of this would be well and good, with both stories, if they were written well. Then, at least, there would be something positive to take from the second one. But they aren’t. The author has no concept of sentence structure or punctuation, no sense of dialogue, no sense of building a proper arc. As far as ideas, as I said, the first story shows great potential. I wish the author would’ve stuck with that tone and decided to expand on it rather than add the second story, because it drives the rating way, way down.

Do you agree with me? Find out for yourselves.

Closing My Eyes Helps Me To See Clearly

Plot - 6

Characters - 4

Voice - 6

Execution - 3

Personal Enjoyment – 5

Overall – 24/50

Gas For Grass

Plot - 0

Characters - 0

Voice - 0

Execution - 0

Personal Enjoyment - 0

Overall – 0/50

Combined Overall – 24/100 (1.2/5)

Purchase Closing My Eyes Helps Me to See Clearly for the Amazon Kindle