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A review by miguel
The Reign of the Kingfisher by T.J. Martinson
4.0
The Reign of the Kingfisher is an arresting, innovative, and deeply flawed book that positions T.J. Martinson as one of the most intriguing new authors in the canon of contemporary literature.
It cannot be overstated: this text is thrilling, and rare is the text that manages to balance such eye-gluing plot turns with substantive and sophisticated ideas. Martinson interrogates the idea of the superhero and heroism in ways that are occasionally a little too on the nose, but interesting nonetheless. Martinson positions the superheroics of the Kingfisher in contrast to the quotidian heroism of a disgraced police officer (disgraced, of course, because the rules of progressive political engagement and the generic structure of hardboiled fiction from which Kingfisher draws mean that there are no good cops) and young hacker.
Kingfisher reads like an everything and the kitchen sink novel, going so far as to include in protagonist Marcus Waters as an ode to the New Journalism stylings of Tom Wolfe, Gay Talese, and Joan Didion (although Waters would be continuing the tradition past its height in the 1970s).
The novel is, though, not without flaws, some more serious than others. Most can be attributed to this novel's debut status. Martinson introduces his three protagonists in routine and formulaic ways, making the book's early chapters somewhat repetitive. He also makes a fascinating choice describing the hacking exploits of Wren, using an impressionistic style to give the scenes more kinetic energy and excitement. I may be wrong to consider this a flaw, it is a legitimately inspired artistic choice, but I am just not sure it lands here. Beyond that, I always wonder depictions of hacking in fiction appear to individuals with the ability to engage in such activities. If Martinson has made himself an expert and depicted these scenes in a way that would be meaningful to computer wizards, I'd consider the scenes to be a success — even if they might come across a little strange to the uninitiated.
With all that said, there's much more to love about Kingfisher than to take issue with. The novel is a triumph.
It cannot be overstated: this text is thrilling, and rare is the text that manages to balance such eye-gluing plot turns with substantive and sophisticated ideas. Martinson interrogates the idea of the superhero and heroism in ways that are occasionally a little too on the nose, but interesting nonetheless. Martinson positions the superheroics of the Kingfisher in contrast to the quotidian heroism of a disgraced police officer (disgraced, of course, because the rules of progressive political engagement and the generic structure of hardboiled fiction from which Kingfisher draws mean that there are no good cops) and young hacker.
Kingfisher reads like an everything and the kitchen sink novel, going so far as to include in protagonist Marcus Waters as an ode to the New Journalism stylings of Tom Wolfe, Gay Talese, and Joan Didion (although Waters would be continuing the tradition past its height in the 1970s).
The novel is, though, not without flaws, some more serious than others. Most can be attributed to this novel's debut status. Martinson introduces his three protagonists in routine and formulaic ways, making the book's early chapters somewhat repetitive. He also makes a fascinating choice describing the hacking exploits of Wren, using an impressionistic style to give the scenes more kinetic energy and excitement. I may be wrong to consider this a flaw, it is a legitimately inspired artistic choice, but I am just not sure it lands here. Beyond that, I always wonder depictions of hacking in fiction appear to individuals with the ability to engage in such activities. If Martinson has made himself an expert and depicted these scenes in a way that would be meaningful to computer wizards, I'd consider the scenes to be a success — even if they might come across a little strange to the uninitiated.
With all that said, there's much more to love about Kingfisher than to take issue with. The novel is a triumph.