Suzanne
Rating:
Review
This is an imaginative, gritty detective novel with a futuristic spin. Conrad Metcalf is the cynical private investigator whose last client turns up dead. Metcalf's electronic karma card is perpetually running low, but he's full of wry humor and I found him to be more likeable and sympathetic than most of his ilk. The post-"inquisition" noir version of Oakland he inhabits doesn't have cell phones or the written word, and asking questions just isn't done anymore, at least not without a license. There are genetically "evolved" animals who speak and function as second-class citizens (featuring one tough-guy kangaroo in particular), and government-sponsored mind-numbing drugs like Avoidol and Forgettol. Celeste Stanhunt, the widow of Metcalf's erstwhile client, serves as a femme fatale type, as does Catherine Teleprompter, the new, black-haired State inquisitor assigned to stake him out. The story is violent, but compelling. If you liked the 1982 movie Blade Runner, you'll like this.
Best Line:
Like looking at the world through a rose-colored bloodstream..." (pg. 129)
Kim
Rating:
Review
Conrad Metcalf is a detective in futuristic Oakland, where animals have evolved with human characteristics and the entire population carries their own personal karma card, which can be increased or decreased in points depending on how they behave themselves. Most of the people ingest some type of mood-altering drug too, may it be Forgettol, Believol or Avoidol to name a few, and which happens to be issued and supported by the government. Metcalf has been hired by Orton Angwine to prove he didn't kill a prominent local doctor, since the police think he did and are gunning for him. Angwine's appearance in this story is brief though, because plenty of other people are involved in the killing, including the good doctor himself. Metcalf tangles with the local police often, and as he digs deeper into the mystery, the people he comes across become less law-abiding and more sordid, including a thug named Phoneblum and a kangaroo named Joey. I liked this story, but it was on the slow side for me. I liked the author's Motherless Brooklyn a lot more.
Best Line:
"Violins were stabbing their way through the choral arrangements in a series of ascending runs that never resolved, never peaked, just faded away and were replaced by more of the same."
