Black Man

by Richard Morgan, also known as "Thirteen" in some editions.

Builds on its strengths to an extremely satisfying story. This book was on my to read list in a couple ways, both as a Clarke winner and as the last Richard Morgan novel I hadn't yet read. Overall it's a strong success, and a deserving winner. Like everything Morgan writes it's ultra-violent, extremely sexually explicit and very pessimistic about political prospects. As well, it's an even more explicit examination of masculinity and its identification with violence than usual. What's new is the idea of the "thirteen", a breed of humans including the protagonist who were genetically engineered to be the pre-agrarian equivalent alpha males---opposed to hierarchy, capable and fundamentally lacking empathy towards most people. I don't really buy the main argument behind this on several levels, from genetic detterminism to rigified gender roles to the historical context, but it makes for a powerful scenario and Morgan effectively depicts the psychology of someone that's not quite human normal. The side characters in this also shine, with some very good use of ambivalence and intense confrontational psychologies.

The worldbuilding wasn't quite as good as most of Morgan's output. It was an elaborate, high-tech and lived in future, but it felt somewhat convincing in a number of ways. There are enough little details relating to the economy and daily social life that it fleshes things out more than some of Morgan’s other books, but in a couple of ways the main structures feel less credible. Particularly in that, purportedly the twenty second century so many of its norms were a hyper-extention of current issues. So there’s a theocratic society called Jesusland that particularly feels like a partisan extension rather than a longstanding theocratic regime as it would actually function. Related to this in particular is the background to the American civil war and fragmentation, with none of the characters talking about the events like they happened generations ago, instead there’s too much focus on showing this as being out near future. While it is valuable to imagine what happens next after that and offer a long-term depiction that’s a lot more nuanced than one might expect and has a mix of new political and technological elements, thre’s still a lot of obvious present/near-future directed anger here, and to an extent it undermines the main credibility of the account.

My quibbles with this novel aren't small, and overall I don't think it's nearly as effective as Woken Furies or Market Forces. Still, it has some major successes as well, poses some very intriguing questions in an unfamiliar way, and the last hundred pages of the narrative are very powerful. It combines some ambitious philosophical meditations with a very engaging, full on energetic narrative that builds up momentum and a sense of crisis inexorably. In terms of intensity and sheer effectiveness of prose this remaining section is probably the most effective thing Morgan has written, building to very poignant tragedy, character-defining focus and high adrenaline action. The earlier part of the book is a lot slower and shaky in some elements, and does suffer from some awkwardness with the anthropological arguments present within it, as well as a slow initial pace. It’s still a plot structure built with a lot of complexity, and it’s fascinating to watch the theories of a serial killer plot get pealed back and show forceful political and sociological reflection. The book was definitely a more deserving winner of the Clarke shortlist for '08 than H-Bomb Girl would have been, and I'd say better than the Execution Channel as well, though by a much narrower margin.

Similar to and better than: Blindsight by Peter Watts
Similar to and worse than: Four Ways to Forgiveness by Ursula K. LeGuin

Woken Furies

by Richard Morgan, 436 pages of action adventure science fiction, with strong dystopian and hard science fiction elements. The third work in the Kovacs trilogy.

A fine story on multiple levels. As always with Morgan it's very brutal, showing in part a mercenary's private war on an abusive religion and all the sickening violence and rage that goes with that. There are a few stances of the character I was deeply uncomfortable with, and definitely points of violence and sex where it became quite brutal. Still, in the end Morgan is talented and subtle enough to make an effective vision of the future, a saga of resistance to various right-wing forces even while the narrative interrogates the corroding impact of this force on an individual and society. It also benefits from some effective if disheartening projections of technological trends, and a potent exploration of class.

It also, through bringing closure, explores more about the heart of its main character. We’ve followed Kovacs for two books now and gotten a fairly strong sense of his intentions, capabilities and limits, but his past has been vaguely defined. In this volume we’re shown in detail the pivotal moments of his early life that lead him in the particular direction of disillusionment and violence. At the same time, through a technological marvel treated as routine by the characters, Kovacs faces a younger version of himself as an antagonist, brought back by hostile corporate forces. Given the risks of cliche or an overly introspective turn inherent to this setup, it’s surprising how well it works, the plot twist that launches much of the novel’s conflict feeling natural and effective to the story rather than contrived to it.

Where the political tone of the book is perhaps most unique is in the force it brings in against religion. There are some speeches here, that are probably meant to be largely the author’s, with some pretty strong things to say about oranized religion and its impact on women. I could have done without such moments, to be honest, and the larger arc of Kovacs at war with a specific religion. They make sense in a dramatic mode and with Kocacs’ character, but feel somewhat gratuitous. What plays better than the forceful denunciation of religon as a Very Bad Thing is the aspects of the setting that show dysfunctional faith emerging as linked to and in part an explicit reaction against dysfunctional economic structures. It is of course a formula that’s common to the real world, but one that doesn’t seem to show up in science fiction as well or as plausibily as it could.

I liked this book a fair bit better than Steel Remains, perhaps because it was the conclusion of a universe rather than the opening of one--it brought a lot more final pathos and connected endings, and made the specific action-objective of this narrative more central. It's also surprising and dramatically effective that Morgan concludes this story with giving the characters some real hope that things might end better for them. For all the griminess and brutality, that's a pleasing resolution.

Better than: Market Forces by Richard Morgan
Worse than: House of Suns by Alastair Reynolds