This is a much more successful book, in my eyes, than Blood Music. There is so much more hard science, and the extrapolation so far ahead, that the science does actually buttress the ideas, and are just more interesting to me, personally. Although, again, this is not cyberpunk, it is very squarely post humanism. Egan’s strengths, as one would somewhat expect of the subgenre and time of writing, is in the ideas conveyed, rather than plot, pacing, and characters.

It really depends on how interested the reader is in post humanism and how familiar (or willing) they are to consume a lot of terms and jargon specific to the ideas. I had to Google a lot of them. But I didn’t mind because it was engaging. Books labelled as hard scifi nowadays are not nearly as dense as this, so I imagine this as more niche than his other works.

I only attempted this because I owned it and have my cyberpunk ongoing reading project. I think a lot of works are labelled incorrectly in the subgenre solely based on a few tropes being present, and not assembled altogether. The most predominate is if something has anything like cyberspace, it seems like people just decided it was cyberpunk. Baffling, but seems like the only through line I can see with so many mislabelled in the subgenre, including this and Blood Music. It’s one of the most prevalent consumerists who decided a subgenre was present in a book based on style or nebulous other attributes, rather than was it was codified as.

Whereas the second book has a natural (almost inevitable) jumping off point from the first, it also had an epilogue that implies it was supposed to be a duology. Plot beats that only somewhat conform to the epilogue take place, and feel very strange, especially concerning a minor character who was in the epilogue, involved in plot beat relatively early on in the book, and promptly forgotten by the main characters completely. It feels antithetical to the MC in particular, who goes off like Jack Bauer for the slightest provocation in the earlier books.

Another reason it doesn’t work though, is the poor straddling of action thriller and legal thriller. There’s still somewhat more intricate plotting, with multiple characters colliding, but so much of the book is boring political machinations that it thinks is interesting. The pacing doesn’t nearly vacillate between the other characters, making large blocks of the books characters in a room trying to be coy with one another, where previously it was frenetic, epic, engaging plot beats. It doesn’t suit the character or tone of the books at all.

But more than that, it also doesn’t have anything new to say. It brings the narrative up to the “present”, when a Trump-a-like is sworn in. The novel aspect is allegations of that admin taking cartel money and ties, rather than the Russia collection, and I suppose reminds people that drugs are still a problem (as if we didn’t know it?). But that aspect brings in a new faction, led by a black man that was just not at all convincingly rendered, and the subsequent emphasis on heroin rather than the briefly touched upon fentanyl makes it feel completely out of step with the times, even as it’s trying to comment on them in a more relatable way via a Guatemalan immigrant trying to get to and in the U.S., also rather feeling like a cardboard cut out.

Winslow bit off a bit more than he could chew, making aspects of the book really difficult to suspend disbelief for, and steering away from his strengths as a writer.

Much more approachable than Accelerando, this is more plotty and near future, so its extrapolations, even when missing the mark, are more relatable. It seems like a lot of people were turned off by the use of second person. I liked it.

Three characters are embroiled in an espionage plot concerning, initially, the heist of a bank inside of a video game (invariably a D&D clone). In post cyberpunk fashion, cyberspace is the norm, for both daily life, as well as video games. One of the characters is a video game designer and adjacent fields, who gets hired by another main character as a kind of consultant, since its her job to figure out what happened with the heist, and works for a firm covering liability for the act. And as far as she knows, stealing from a digital bank in a video game should be both impossible, and hardly impactful to a company.

What ensues is an almost coven brothers esk romp that puts privacy rights and social engineering in the forefront. It is a bit silly but the implications are clear and sections were pretty interesting, mainly concerning tech issues. It probably was less silly when published, but since we are beyond this future now, hindsight always does this to scifi. Think of Neuromancer not predicting the cell phone, and how that small thing would blow a lot of plot beats wide open. Some things here—mostly the macro—are almost prophetic, reading correctly where the tech sector and social evolution was going. Others, well, they aren’t happening any time soon, slightly undermining the right parts. But this also makes it somewhat more interesting, having lived through well before and a bit after the projected year and publication. It’s entertaining to see how and why these extrapolations were put in. Just like it’s interesting to see how history actually unfolded.

Because it is all about privacy and participation in curated experiences and narratives, the use of second person fit very well, for me. The reader switching between characters, seemingly embodying them as an avatar, even as they go down the rabbit hole themselves. Then again, generally I don’t mind second person anyhow. It felt effective to me here, though. There’s also a plethora of techno babble, but that’s part and parcel of cyberpunk and harder Scifi, I was prepared for it, based on Accelerando. As is, this is a quirky book I really got on with, but I’m not certain who I’d recommend it to.

3.5 rounded up

I really enjoyed the previous instalment, but this was mostly an unconvincing rehash of what worked previously, a time jump that didn’t feel reflected in the technology or setting, and the poorly done inclusion of queer polyamory dynamic that felt shoe horned in for plot devices and shock value, rather than something core to the identity of the individuals. The hyper sexuality was very tropey.

Coupled with a plot that more fizzled out than came to head, there just wasn’t much to latch onto here, for me. I’m not sure what was compelling to return to the series. The characters didn’t feel further developed and the plot was almost perfunctory. If you skipped the first book or maybe a long time passed between books, enough to no longer be situated in the established world, maybe the issues wouldn’t be as prevalent.

Overall, quite a mixed bag with Stross. 3 books, only one I liked quite a bit. Happy to be moving on to other (possibly post) cyberpunk works.

Fun, quick, but of neo noir in a cyberpunk adjacent world. Stratification of class is embodied physically, with titans being a “progression” in humans. Long life but with a kind of gigantism, as a seeming side effect of a drug that saves lives.

The MC is a detective that intersects with legitimate authorities on only specific cases, which naturally leads him down a noir rabbit hole of betrayal, sex, and murder.

I wouldn’t say there is that much emphasis on the core idea of the book. Most of it is very much little man caught up in big machinations, plot beat and plot twists. But it does feel novel enough that it didn’t read as derivative. There is no overstaying of welcome and the interactions with the titans keeps things fresh. It’s not fully bombastic nor sobering. It knows what it’s going for and manages to nail it. More upmarket than commercial, I’d say.

A solid, too-short probably, cyberpunk offering about a few have-nots in a world ruled by a megacorp that manufactures New People, which are replacing normal humans in the work place, despite their being out of designated revitalized areas sponsored by said megacorp. The people intersect in a believable way and is good at kitting out through dialogue, worldbuilding and characterization.

It seems particularly wary of showing not telling and info dumps, making the prose fairly solid but feeling somewhat sophomoric, as the dialogue comes off as only half natural. There’s no nuances to the New People, as far as what exactly they are and how they are constructed, nor other aspects of the setting. There just isn’t time. Nor is it interested in situating time and place, making it feel generic but also applicable to anywhere.

As someone who enjoys a high amount of specificity, I got on with the book, but didn’t really get attached to any aspect of it. But the fact that I wanted more of it, means I was interested enough in what was offered to like it, overall.

This is difficult to rate because the movie occupies a part of my identity as one of my all time favourites. There’s the nostalgia of reading and at once hearing the best lines of the film, and also realizing that if I did not have Cusacks’ delivery of the lines, I might actually have missed a lot of the depth and cadence that makes it resonate with me. Did I love this book simply because it was another way to consume the movie? I really don’t know.

Rob, though, I find to be relatable as well as a cautionary tale. Having watched the movie as a teenager, emotional maturity was something still somewhat foreign to me. Every relationship I’ve ever been in, literally, has had me wonder if I’m being like Rob. Insecurities are real in your 20s. Had I been in my 30s and still been like Rob, though, I’d have really been worried; for good reason. It speaks to a lot of things, and some people just hate Rob so much they don’t like the movie or the book. But, kind of like Fight Club, you aren’t supposed to look to Rob for enjoyment or inspiration. You see a very human experience that unearths issues men of a certain age in a certain society tend to embody, and tries to explore them as best it can, through the lens of someone embodying them, unfiltered. And with the complexity of music thrown in.

The book can’t truly live up to the movie, in my mind, simply because it doesn’t have access to music. The songs are imprinted in my brain for all time, in a way that no book can ever do. Books become indelible in an entirely different way. Because music is so integral to the experience though, in a real way, the book cannot live up to it.

Even if it is the millennial male Sally Rooney experience I have wanted for a long time. And I think it is. I don’t think my brain has what it takes to animate Rob and Laura without the movie. I needed to be educated on them first in order to see that life first. I’m the kind of reader that wants the internal nature of why they say the things they do, rather than extrapolate their personalities from it. I don’t want to fill in those blanks, I want to know everything. You don’t get that from a very solipsistic narrator like Rob. He doesn’t even understand himself, which is what makes it so funny. I can’t help but have wanted more than I had access to from the movie. This doesn’t have that. Most of the best lines, even the internal, is voiced in the movie. Yet I still really enjoyed reading it, if only to prompt my memories of the movie.

What a useful review this is, eh?

Despite a fan little twist, I find there seems to always be something slightly hampering my ability to suspend my disbelief with this authors books. A little edgy, gory, presumably in the attempt to make it visceral, but always instead distances me from it. This one has an even more overt uncanny element that could be explained by the twist, or perhaps not, making it feel fun, but also unsatisfying—needlessly so, I think.

Absurdism sort of always makes me feel like this though, as does comedic elements, generally. I’m just not really this authors target audience. Good thing I have two more of these lying around. But it is strange. I almost always get along with the themes of the novels, and never thought of myself as someone who needs heavy plot. But I guess I do need to have something feel believable when established, and usually the twists undermine that aspect of the story for me. I never wholly dislike the books, but I never resonate with them either.

I found this to be a really fun time, and reminded me of watching old Sinbad the Sailor movies with my dad, in some ways. The supernatural elements mixed with a mythology I know little about. An interesting character that subverts some expectations: “older” woman, but pulled back into the life she left behind trope, motivated by the push-pull of her wish for safety (both financial and physical) and adventure—all of it just really works for me. She is wildly endearing, as are the cast of characters.

It does segue into something unexpected around halfway too, but I ended up enjoying the change-up just as much, even if the later third felt quite rushed and had less character interaction than I was previously enjoying. It becomes, well, adventurous and climatic, with plenty of action and wild things occurring.

I will be picking up the next one. The setup for the next adventure(s) already intriguing. And it felt quite queer friendly to me too. Always nice.

The later half of this book comes together very well, whereas the first half was a very near dnf, for me. I read another “classic” time travel book a little while ago, and apparently authors were really enamoured with stranding people in the past without plot or pacing. All the momentum of the fairly interesting premise is utterly sapped and there is a long amount of time dedicated to sickness and disease, which is pretty hard to turn into forward movement in a story.

Luckily? I was driving and couldn’t turn it off, and as the characters began to be able to, you know, communicate with each other, a story started to emerge. A historian bearing witness to something incalculably terrible becomes fairly interesting, if for no other reason than it becomes a human experience rather than the distance historians claim to need and want from their texts.

That being said, not much actually happens. In a 21 hour audiobook, that’s a problem. It is overwritten and the dialogue serviceable. But it does have interesting themes that are driven home quite well, in the end.