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A review by ghostboyreads
Moxyland by Lauren Beukes
4.0
The corporate line shushes through the tunnels on a skin of seawater, overflow from the tide drives put to practical use in the clanking watery bowels of Cape Town- like all the effluent in the city. Like me. Art school dropout reinvented as shiny brand ambassador. Sponsor baby. Ghost girl.
It starts with nothing. A shot. An injectable. This nausea inducing dystopian begins with nothing more than an experiment, it ends just shy of disaster. In Moxyland, Beukes presents a fearful, addictive, slow burning novel, a panic-stricken story, a tale that feels far too possible, way too familiar. Highly stylistic writing makes up the bulk of this novel, making it a totally mystifying story to experience.
The beauty of this book is in its slowness. From the very first page, the reader is made aware that everything is beyond fucked, but the horrendous and frightful reality of this world serves more as an unpleasant, vile backdrop to the richly vivid characters we're introduced to. Messed up wasters, ailing addicts, propaganda fueled revolutionaries, these are the people we spend our time with in Moxyland, they're what elevate this story from a mere dystopian into something rather magical.
It starts with nothing. A shot. An injectable. This nausea inducing dystopian begins with nothing more than an experiment, it ends just shy of disaster. In Moxyland, Beukes presents a fearful, addictive, slow burning novel, a panic-stricken story, a tale that feels far too possible, way too familiar. Highly stylistic writing makes up the bulk of this novel, making it a totally mystifying story to experience.
The beauty of this book is in its slowness. From the very first page, the reader is made aware that everything is beyond fucked, but the horrendous and frightful reality of this world serves more as an unpleasant, vile backdrop to the richly vivid characters we're introduced to. Messed up wasters, ailing addicts, propaganda fueled revolutionaries, these are the people we spend our time with in Moxyland, they're what elevate this story from a mere dystopian into something rather magical.
When do I finally tweak what's happening? Not when he snatches my wrist, so tight I can feel it bruise. Not when he starts shaking violently or when his eyes roll back or his jaw clamps and he starts making hideous sounds through his teeth, wet, viscous shrieks.
Moxyland is a devastatingly bleak tale, a nihilism fueled fever-dream. It serves as a fantastic cyberpunk-esque dystopian for sure, never once is it overwhelmingly technical, it doesn't get bogged down with jargon, it simply stays an overly oppressive reading experience. This was a massive step outside of my typical reading comfort zone, one that I'm extremely glad I've taken.
The world tilts to the right, and then everything swarms up to meet me in a surge of claustrophobia. Suddenly I'm scared. I struggle up through the tightening darkness, sealing in one me, like the crush of water.