Scan barcode
A review by tachyondecay
Memoir of a Mad Scientist by Erin Z. Anderson
challenging
dark
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Ambiguous antiheroes and antivillains are always my jam. Give me a book from the point of view of the bad guy. Give me a repentant antagonist—hell, give me an unrepentant one. Memoir of a Mad Scientist is exactly what it says on the tin, albeit with a tongue-in-cheek, slightly absurdist twist. Erin Z. Anderson has crafted a tale that gets you thinking about where to draw lines. How far is it OK to go in the name of science when lives are on the line? How do you reconcile a life of privilege with the growing awareness of its cost for others? Although it didn’t electrify me in the telling, this book nevertheless got me thinking and feeling in all the right ways. I received a copy of this book in exchange for a review.
Dr. Jarian Voss is a mad scientist. Well, not quite, but the next closest thing. Raised on a farm, he’s worked his entire life for the Coalition. They saved the planet. Now he does science for them. But the research institute where he’s sheltered from the inequities of everyday Coalition existence starts to feel like a less-than-gilded cage as security steps up, his bosses keep getting replaced, and now he’s been assigned to a high-pressure cybernetic experiment with a subject who … maybe consented. Wait, is Voss the baddie?
This is the essential question at the heart of Memoir of a Mad Scientist. Or rather, one might say the question is: once you know you’re a baddie, what do you do about it? Voss is arguably a hero with an F in good; he has the best of intentions but his morality shades towards amoral—or at the very least, he keeps his head down and thinks his science can be apolitical. As the story unfolds, it quickly becomes evident that this is not the case, and he has to take sides and make hard choices.
I read this at the very start of the year, after Donald Trump had been reelected president of the nation to the south of mine but before his inauguration. Now, writing this review the weekend he kicked off a trade war with my country, I am thinking a lot about resistance versus collaboration. This novel hits, for that is exactly the choice Voss has to make, again and again and again. Anderson demonstrates with chilling accuracy just how easy it is to sell your soul by saying you’ll give in just this one time because then next time you’ll be in a better position to resist. (You won’t.)
Voss is an interesting protagonist because I definitely don’t like him—he’s so cringe—but I still sympathize with him and at the very least appreciate his growth. Probably the part that’s hardest for me to swallow is his naivety, yet I suppose that is part of his privilege, the cosseted way he’s been raised and coddled as a member of the intelligentsia. I admire Anderson’s choice to write a main character who isn’t a squeaky-clean hero but rather someone with a laundry list of flaws, for like it or not, all of us are probably somewhat closer to Voss than we are to any of the Nazi-punching heroes in our comics. In a book full of cyborgs and space lasers, Jarian Voss grounds us as the most realistic element.
Indeed, Memoir of a Mad Scientist is a book that walks the line between surrealism and realism with grace. The title alone should say enough, but if you need to look further, consider Voss’s relationship with his boss, who is stressed out and overworked. He could be a caricature, but Anderson humanizes him, has him level just so slightly with Voss, and then of course later in the novel Voss gets a little more … perspective, shall we say? Similarly, Voss’s ambivalent relationship with the rebels showcases how often the novel veers into surrealist set pieces: cloak-and-dagger dead drops and pseudonyms, allies who could also be enemies and vice versa.
Anderson’s writing style didn’t always work for me, and there were times I was frustrated with how simplistically the characters and their relationships seemed to be developed and telegraphed. Some of that I’ll chalk up to the surreal atmosphere, as described above—some of these characters are more archetype than actual person. Reading this book felt, at times, a bit like watching a stage play with actors who are overeager, or a movie that knows it’s a little over the top—it’s not a bad experience, but it’s one I have to be in mood to seek out.
Finally, the resolution was a bit rushed—after feeling like it took forever to get to the climax—and morally uncomplicated. While I can appreciate the scenario Anderson constructs and the message it sends, I wanted to see more from Voss and his allies. I wanted some reckoning, wanted to see some deeper moral calculus at work.
All in all, I was neither blown away nor disappointed by this one. It’s a solid story sadly resonant with the mood of our current times, with a protagonist in whom you will hate seeing the less heroic parts of yourself. Memoir of a Mad Scientist reminds us that the baddies don’t always twirl moustaches and laugh maniacally—sometimes they’re us, going along with it, so as not to rock the boat or bite the hand that feeds. This is what science fiction is for.
Originally posted at Kara.Reviews.
Dr. Jarian Voss is a mad scientist. Well, not quite, but the next closest thing. Raised on a farm, he’s worked his entire life for the Coalition. They saved the planet. Now he does science for them. But the research institute where he’s sheltered from the inequities of everyday Coalition existence starts to feel like a less-than-gilded cage as security steps up, his bosses keep getting replaced, and now he’s been assigned to a high-pressure cybernetic experiment with a subject who … maybe consented. Wait, is Voss the baddie?
This is the essential question at the heart of Memoir of a Mad Scientist. Or rather, one might say the question is: once you know you’re a baddie, what do you do about it? Voss is arguably a hero with an F in good; he has the best of intentions but his morality shades towards amoral—or at the very least, he keeps his head down and thinks his science can be apolitical. As the story unfolds, it quickly becomes evident that this is not the case, and he has to take sides and make hard choices.
I read this at the very start of the year, after Donald Trump had been reelected president of the nation to the south of mine but before his inauguration. Now, writing this review the weekend he kicked off a trade war with my country, I am thinking a lot about resistance versus collaboration. This novel hits, for that is exactly the choice Voss has to make, again and again and again. Anderson demonstrates with chilling accuracy just how easy it is to sell your soul by saying you’ll give in just this one time because then next time you’ll be in a better position to resist. (You won’t.)
Voss is an interesting protagonist because I definitely don’t like him—he’s so cringe—but I still sympathize with him and at the very least appreciate his growth. Probably the part that’s hardest for me to swallow is his naivety, yet I suppose that is part of his privilege, the cosseted way he’s been raised and coddled as a member of the intelligentsia. I admire Anderson’s choice to write a main character who isn’t a squeaky-clean hero but rather someone with a laundry list of flaws, for like it or not, all of us are probably somewhat closer to Voss than we are to any of the Nazi-punching heroes in our comics. In a book full of cyborgs and space lasers, Jarian Voss grounds us as the most realistic element.
Indeed, Memoir of a Mad Scientist is a book that walks the line between surrealism and realism with grace. The title alone should say enough, but if you need to look further, consider Voss’s relationship with his boss, who is stressed out and overworked. He could be a caricature, but Anderson humanizes him, has him level just so slightly with Voss, and then of course later in the novel Voss gets a little more … perspective, shall we say? Similarly, Voss’s ambivalent relationship with the rebels showcases how often the novel veers into surrealist set pieces: cloak-and-dagger dead drops and pseudonyms, allies who could also be enemies and vice versa.
Anderson’s writing style didn’t always work for me, and there were times I was frustrated with how simplistically the characters and their relationships seemed to be developed and telegraphed. Some of that I’ll chalk up to the surreal atmosphere, as described above—some of these characters are more archetype than actual person. Reading this book felt, at times, a bit like watching a stage play with actors who are overeager, or a movie that knows it’s a little over the top—it’s not a bad experience, but it’s one I have to be in mood to seek out.
Finally, the resolution was a bit rushed—after feeling like it took forever to get to the climax—and morally uncomplicated. While I can appreciate the scenario Anderson constructs and the message it sends, I wanted to see more from Voss and his allies. I wanted some reckoning, wanted to see some deeper moral calculus at work.
All in all, I was neither blown away nor disappointed by this one. It’s a solid story sadly resonant with the mood of our current times, with a protagonist in whom you will hate seeing the less heroic parts of yourself. Memoir of a Mad Scientist reminds us that the baddies don’t always twirl moustaches and laugh maniacally—sometimes they’re us, going along with it, so as not to rock the boat or bite the hand that feeds. This is what science fiction is for.
Originally posted at Kara.Reviews.