Logo
ISSUE #33.36 • BOOKS • REVIEW
[WORDS]

Thirteen


The creator of Takeshi Kovacs returns with something old, something noir.

Share: | Permalink
Email | Print | Rate It! | 0 comments
Recently in "Books"

November 4th, 2009
The Opposite Field | A father and son connect by way of the summer game.0 comments

October 28th, 2009
Q & A • Jon Raymond | Of hot springs, lost dogs and the Oregon Trail.0 comments

October 21st, 2009
Jonathan Lethem Chronic City | Manhattan goes meta.0 comments

October 14th, 2009
R. Gregory Nokes Massacred For Gold | Anatomy of a (120-year-old) mass murder.0 comments

September 30th, 2009
David Byrne Bicycle Diaries | A Talking Head on two wheels around the world.0 comments

September 23rd, 2009
Jen Yates Cake Wrecks | The cakes are so wrong, but the blog is so right.0 comments

August 19th, 2009
Curtis Ebbesmeyer and Eric Scigliano, Flotsametrics and the Floating World | Of junks and shipping trunks.0 comments

August 5th, 2009
The Impostor’s Daughter Laurie Sandell | A daddy’s girl gets a rude awakening. And bad credit.0 comments

July 22nd, 2009
Jeff Johnson Tattoo Machine | The secret world of ink according to a local needle-slinger.0 comments

July 8th, 2009
Portland Queer | A new anthology keeps Portland predictable.16 comments


BY MATT BUCKINGHAM | 503-243-2122

[July 18th, 2007]

Richard K. Morgan explores the oldest theme in science fiction in his new novel, Thirteen (Del Rey, 544 pages, $24.95). Science fiction writers have been tinkering with the idea of the scientifically enhanced superhuman ever since Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Now Morgan gives readers a Frankenstein's monster for the 22nd century: Carl Marsalis is a "variant thirteen," a genetically engineered super-warrior whose DNA is encoded with all the violent tendencies, brute strength and emotional detachment humans supposedly evolved away from 20,000 years ago as they learned to work together in civilized, agricultural societies. After a century of runaway genetic experimentation, though, the nations of Earth have banished thirteens and other genetically modified humans to colonies on Mars or locked them away in prisons. The United States, meanwhile, has broken up into a gaggle of separate nations, including the Rim States along the Pacific Coast, the Union in the Northeast, and a Christian fundamentalist confederacy in between, derisively nicknamed "Jesusland." Marsalis has recently returned to Earth to work as a bounty hunter for the United Nations, tracking down GM supercriminals too hot for normal humans to handle. Then agents for the Colony Initiative, the agency responsible for colonizing Mars, spring Marsalis from a Jesusland prison to help them catch another thirteen who has hijacked a space shuttle from Mars, eaten the passengers and crew, splashed down in the Pacific, and gone on a serial killing spree.

As with any good mystery novel, nothing and nobody are exactly what they seem, and the real story begins only after Marsalis catches and kills the guy everybody thinks is responsible for the murders. Morgan is one of a cadre of exciting new SF writers who have emerged from the U.K. in the past couple decades to breathe life into a moribund genre that had largely collapsed under the weight of military techno-thrillers and Star Trek novels. These guys—writers like Peter F. Hamilton, China Miéville, Alistair Reynolds, Iain M. Banks and Ken MacLeod—write just about the only new SF worth reading anymore. Morgan, best known for his trilogy of SF novels featuring private eye Takeshi Kovacs, specializes in urban SF noir thrillers that combine dazzling technologies and complex near-future societies with good, old-fashioned lust, murder and greed. Morgan is especially adept at explaining his imagined technologies and societies as he goes along without larding his books with long-winded prologues or clunky expository passages. The reader's only quibble with Thirteen might be that it drags a bit in the middle as characters take a break from the action—both sexually explicit and graphically violent—to wax philosophical about what it means to be human, in clenched-teeth debates peppered with way too much use of the f-word. Science fiction is most fascinating not for what it predicts about the future, but for what it teaches us about the present. In Morgan's novel, the real monsters aren't bred in genetics labs (or mosques), nor can they be contained by colonies on Mars (or the cells of Guantanamo Bay). The worst villains in Thirteen, like Mary Shelley's work, aren't superhuman—they're the most human of all. .














icon Story continues below

advertisement

advertisement

Richard K. Morgan reads at Powell's City of Books, 1005 W Burnside St., 228-4651. 7:30 pm Tuesday, July 24. Free.

 

Rate This Story
Be the first to rate this story.

 
read all 0 comments | add your comment
 

RECENT COMMENTS ON “Thirteen”

 
 
 





Recently in Willamette Week
December 31st 1969Washington State | The Canada of Oregon has it all—a Stonehenge replica, a longboarder's concrete wet dream and dark, damp underground lava caves. Vive les rocks.
December 31st 1969Oregon's Outer Edges | Crater Lake. Hell's Canyon. Wallowa and Steens mountain ranges. Hell, yeah.
December 31st 1969Central Oregon/High Desert | No rain, plenty of snow, obsidian flows and great local beer. The folks from the real eastside know how to unbend outside.
December 31st 1969Great Cascades/Columbia Gorge | With plenty of room to roam—and hot springs for your weary feet—it's the place to ramble and relax for the weekend.
December 31st 1969Willamette Valley | Monks, tracks, tubing and wine make the fertile strip a virile place to play.
December 31st 1969Stumptown | Tons of public parks, an extinct volcano and nude beach volleyball to keep you jolly. Get out and collect those merit badges, without leaving the city.
December 31st 1969The Coast | The beaches are public. You own them. Go play—hike in the old-growth forests.
December 31st 1969Cycle Tour 101: Your on-bike guide to Highway 101 | To ride the greatest bike route in Oregon, you need to get out of Portland.
December 31st 1969Doggin' It | What happens when a Portland running club jogs with pooches from the pound?
December 31st 1969Over the Edge | Sam Drevo will paddle yr ass.