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3.95 AVERAGE
3.95 AVERAGE
Once again, Smith delivers with a book that defies genres. It's a strong sci-fi story with threads of humor and big chunks of horror blended together with mind-opening psychological components dealing with life, relationships, and whether a person can ever escape their past and live in the present.
I've read nearly all of his works and this book is an excellent part of his bibliography.
I've read nearly all of his works and this book is an excellent part of his bibliography.
adventurous
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Avant d’aller plus loin, un avertissement au lecteur. Il s’agit d’un ouvrage de [a:Michael Marshall Smith|12339|Michael Marshall Smith|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1223977759p2/12339.jpg]. Il faut donc dès le départ abandonner pas mal de choses au vestiaire : comme par exemple l’illusion souvent entretenue que le personnage principal doit être positif, car l’auteur a des racines manifestement issues du roman noir, et son héros part toujours (tout au moins dans les différents romans que j’ai lu) d’une image assez classique du privé un peu glauque, limite malhonnête et trop souvent drogué (quoiqu’il ait ici de bonnes raisons d’avoir un tel comportement). L’un des autres points forts de cet auteur, excessivement déconcertant pour le lecteur, et son utilisation d’un unvers très dickien dans l’esprit, où la réalité n’est pas vraiment ce qu’elle devrait être et, quand bien même elle l’est, elle n’est peut-être pas aussi réelle qu’elle en a l’air.
Mais je me rends compte à l’instant que je n’ai pas évoqué du tout ce roman. Il n’est pourtant pas mal du tout, quoique pas au niveau d’[b:Avance rapide|920395|Only Forward|Michael Marshall Smith|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179461861s/920395.jpg|123899], par exemple. Il semble aussi que ce roman ait été dévoré pour servir de base au script de The Island, une platitude cinématographique d’outre-Atlantique, ou tout au moins utilisé, comme nous le dit FilmDeCulte. Bref, pour ne pas trop le déflorer, le héros prend donc pitié d’une bande de clones utilisés comme stocks d’‘organes en bonne santé pour les emmener. Dans sa fuite, pas de bol, il est obligé de repasser par son ancienne ville, une espèce de cité-immeuble du vice à plus de deux cents étages et autant de perversions au moins. Et, comme si ça ne suffisait pas, pour aider ses jeunes orphelins, il doit replonger dans un passé glauque, mélant une guerre virtuelle et la disparition de sa famille.
Comme je le disais dès le départ ou presque, ce roman ne vaut pas [b:Avance rapide|920395|Only Forward|Michael Marshall Smith|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179461861s/920395.jpg|123899]. En effet, le rythme n’y est pas aussi bien maîtrisé, les personnages ne sont pas forcément très bien campés, et le décor, quoique très élégant dans un style tout en décadence, n’a pas le charme foncièrement dévastateur de cette cité-monde touchée d’une fièvre séparatiste. Mais, surtout, l’intrigue, bien qu’on soit dans un univers à la [a:Smith|1036615|Charlotte Brontë|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1200329744p2/1036615.jpg], est un peu trop confuse à mon goût.
Ca reste donc un assez bon roman dans l’absolu, mais un cran en dessous des meilleurs de l’auteur.
Mais je me rends compte à l’instant que je n’ai pas évoqué du tout ce roman. Il n’est pourtant pas mal du tout, quoique pas au niveau d’[b:Avance rapide|920395|Only Forward|Michael Marshall Smith|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179461861s/920395.jpg|123899], par exemple. Il semble aussi que ce roman ait été dévoré pour servir de base au script de The Island, une platitude cinématographique d’outre-Atlantique, ou tout au moins utilisé, comme nous le dit FilmDeCulte. Bref, pour ne pas trop le déflorer, le héros prend donc pitié d’une bande de clones utilisés comme stocks d’‘organes en bonne santé pour les emmener. Dans sa fuite, pas de bol, il est obligé de repasser par son ancienne ville, une espèce de cité-immeuble du vice à plus de deux cents étages et autant de perversions au moins. Et, comme si ça ne suffisait pas, pour aider ses jeunes orphelins, il doit replonger dans un passé glauque, mélant une guerre virtuelle et la disparition de sa famille.
Comme je le disais dès le départ ou presque, ce roman ne vaut pas [b:Avance rapide|920395|Only Forward|Michael Marshall Smith|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179461861s/920395.jpg|123899]. En effet, le rythme n’y est pas aussi bien maîtrisé, les personnages ne sont pas forcément très bien campés, et le décor, quoique très élégant dans un style tout en décadence, n’a pas le charme foncièrement dévastateur de cette cité-monde touchée d’une fièvre séparatiste. Mais, surtout, l’intrigue, bien qu’on soit dans un univers à la [a:Smith|1036615|Charlotte Brontë|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1200329744p2/1036615.jpg], est un peu trop confuse à mon goût.
Ca reste donc un assez bon roman dans l’absolu, mais un cran en dessous des meilleurs de l’auteur.
Michael Smith's first novel, Only Forward, is one of my all-time favourite novels. If you've never read it, you really should. I wasn't expecting Spares to be quite as good, and it wasn't. It's still a very interesting novel, and from time to time, even reminded me of Only Forward. It takes a while before we learn what the Spares of the title are, but then ultimately, the novel isn't even really about that at all -- the Spares play a very minor part. It was an interesting read, but I didn't love it. I did, however, make note of one quote from near the end:
"Memories are nothing more than a book you've read and lost, not a bible for the rest of your life."
"Memories are nothing more than a book you've read and lost, not a bible for the rest of your life."
I really, really enjoyed this book. Although it could of done without the last 2 chapters which were very transparent and stereotypical. However, i enjoyed the rest of the book so much i'm willing to over look it... Or rip the pages out, i haven't decided yet.
Every time i put it down i had to tear myself away...
However, i was annoyed it was set in America when it's written by an Englishman. Practically every book and movie is set in the US, why not have it elsewhere for a change? But maybe that's just me being trivial...
Every time i put it down i had to tear myself away...
However, i was annoyed it was set in America when it's written by an Englishman. Practically every book and movie is set in the US, why not have it elsewhere for a change? But maybe that's just me being trivial...
It's bonkers. Brilliant. Messy. Don't be looking for a tidy coherent plot; find a messy, mental, disturbing, weird dream inducing sci fi meets psychotherapy romp.
I'm sorry I've finished it. And glad. It's wonderful. And terrible.
I might have to go and find something light hearted before reading One Of Us, but I know that anything light hearted will just get in the way. MMS' books make me feel like I need to see a therapist.
I'm sorry I've finished it. And glad. It's wonderful. And terrible.
I might have to go and find something light hearted before reading One Of Us, but I know that anything light hearted will just get in the way. MMS' books make me feel like I need to see a therapist.
Calling Spares a ‘hard-boiled detective’ story is like calling Ben&Jerry’s Wavy Gravy ‘chocolate swirl ice cream.’ Sure. I guess, if you ignore philosophy, organics, ingredients, and taste.
I mean, there lead is an ex-cop, ex-soldier; pretty standard, just replace the bottle of Scotch with a foil-wrapped pouch of Rapt. Usually.
“Then on an afterthought I reached behind me and took down a bottle of Jack Daniels. Actually, it wasn’t an afterthought. It had been a first thought and an in-between thought. I’d been trying to make it an ex-thought, but something inside me gave up.”
The damsel-in-distress is actually six-and-a-half clones escaped from a body Farm, but they’re as innocent and beautiful as the day is long. And the corrupt, dirty big city is a former two-hundred story flying MegaMall that landed in New Richmond, Virginia, and instead of districts or burroughs, we have floors–above 100 is the most rarified air. But the mob scene is pretty standard, as is the drug trade and the street whores, so who knows? Maybe its just like Sam Spade. Practically the same thing.
Except I just never know where Marshall Smith is going to take his stories, and that’s a thing of beauty. As a side note, though Marshall Smith often seems to fall into ‘sci-fi,’ he’s about as sci-fi as Philip K. Dick. He’s more interested in dreaming up concepts for plotting and social commentary, not for actual future-civilization possibility. I admit, I myself stuttered at the clone farm, but you know, it is a bit like a drug trip. You just surrender control and see where the conductor takes you.
The lead, Jack Randall, is a deeply troubled character, a classic Failed Knight. He’s a complex character, often stumbling when you wish he would rise, and often making the choices that keep him running in place. He shows an awareness of his flawsSome readers may not find him a likable character. But I found him a deeply human, albeit damaged one, with a sense of humor that appealed. I laughed as he questioned a hipster artist.
“Socializing,” I said. “Who did she hang out with?”
“Her friends, of course,” Golson said, clearly baffled. I checked my mental question gun, and found I only had about two patience bullets left. After that, it was going to be live ammunition.
“Okay. You, who the fuck else?” I asked.
“Well, Mandy and Val and Zaz and Ness and Del and Jo and Kate.”
My last patience bullet. “Remember any guys’ names?”
It gets a little strange when the situation requires going into The Gap, a surreal place and the site of the conflict/war that so damaged Randall when he was younger. I felt strongly the echoes of Platoon here, and all the ‘realistic’ Vietnam movies of the 1980s (the book was written in 1996). I won’t say anything more, but that reading requires a tolerance for getting weird. Think Annihilation, with more plot and better self-analysis.
“I believe The Gap is made up of all of the places where no one is, of all the sights no one sees. It comes from silence, and lack, and the deleted and unread; it is the gap between what you want and what you have, between love and affection, between hope and truth. It’s the place where crooked cues come from, and it’s the answer to a question: Does a tree exist when there’s no one there to perceive it?”
This was his second published novel, and you can see the genesis of some of the ideas he likes to play with. A talking refrigerator and the abilities of cats both make an appearance, albeit peripheral. Optioned by Dreamworks, this seems to be languishing in development, which is probably fine. I’m old-fashioned that way.
Overall, very good. I even had a tear in my eye when I finished, which may or may not have been hormones, but is more likely for an intriguing story that went from a noir mystery to a journey of redemption. There’s certainly problems, and as a reader, I’m left thinking about different aspects that were perhaps resolved in untidy ways, but that’s life, isn’t it?
I mean, there lead is an ex-cop, ex-soldier; pretty standard, just replace the bottle of Scotch with a foil-wrapped pouch of Rapt. Usually.
“Then on an afterthought I reached behind me and took down a bottle of Jack Daniels. Actually, it wasn’t an afterthought. It had been a first thought and an in-between thought. I’d been trying to make it an ex-thought, but something inside me gave up.”
The damsel-in-distress is actually six-and-a-half clones escaped from a body Farm, but they’re as innocent and beautiful as the day is long. And the corrupt, dirty big city is a former two-hundred story flying MegaMall that landed in New Richmond, Virginia, and instead of districts or burroughs, we have floors–above 100 is the most rarified air. But the mob scene is pretty standard, as is the drug trade and the street whores, so who knows? Maybe its just like Sam Spade. Practically the same thing.
Except I just never know where Marshall Smith is going to take his stories, and that’s a thing of beauty. As a side note, though Marshall Smith often seems to fall into ‘sci-fi,’ he’s about as sci-fi as Philip K. Dick. He’s more interested in dreaming up concepts for plotting and social commentary, not for actual future-civilization possibility. I admit, I myself stuttered at the clone farm, but you know, it is a bit like a drug trip. You just surrender control and see where the conductor takes you.
The lead, Jack Randall, is a deeply troubled character, a classic Failed Knight. He’s a complex character, often stumbling when you wish he would rise, and often making the choices that keep him running in place. He shows an awareness of his flawsSome readers may not find him a likable character. But I found him a deeply human, albeit damaged one, with a sense of humor that appealed. I laughed as he questioned a hipster artist.
“Socializing,” I said. “Who did she hang out with?”
“Her friends, of course,” Golson said, clearly baffled. I checked my mental question gun, and found I only had about two patience bullets left. After that, it was going to be live ammunition.
“Okay. You, who the fuck else?” I asked.
“Well, Mandy and Val and Zaz and Ness and Del and Jo and Kate.”
My last patience bullet. “Remember any guys’ names?”
It gets a little strange when the situation requires going into The Gap, a surreal place and the site of the conflict/war that so damaged Randall when he was younger. I felt strongly the echoes of Platoon here, and all the ‘realistic’ Vietnam movies of the 1980s (the book was written in 1996). I won’t say anything more, but that reading requires a tolerance for getting weird. Think Annihilation, with more plot and better self-analysis.
“I believe The Gap is made up of all of the places where no one is, of all the sights no one sees. It comes from silence, and lack, and the deleted and unread; it is the gap between what you want and what you have, between love and affection, between hope and truth. It’s the place where crooked cues come from, and it’s the answer to a question: Does a tree exist when there’s no one there to perceive it?”
This was his second published novel, and you can see the genesis of some of the ideas he likes to play with. A talking refrigerator and the abilities of cats both make an appearance, albeit peripheral. Optioned by Dreamworks, this seems to be languishing in development, which is probably fine. I’m old-fashioned that way.
Overall, very good. I even had a tear in my eye when I finished, which may or may not have been hormones, but is more likely for an intriguing story that went from a noir mystery to a journey of redemption. There’s certainly problems, and as a reader, I’m left thinking about different aspects that were perhaps resolved in untidy ways, but that’s life, isn’t it?
What Ishiguro's [book:Never Let Me Go] should have been! Shame about the film, though.
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes