Before I get too far in to this book review, let me say that I have read other books by Richard K. Morgan and enjoyed them. I like his writing enough that I plan to read all his books sooner or later. This, one though… Well let’s get to that.
In the late 1960s and early ’70s there was a genre of sleazy spy novels that were basically semi-pornographic and trashy and not particularly exciting. An example of these would be any of the Ted Mark “Man from O.R.G.Y.” novels.
In these books you’d have this spy who is really hip and cool. He’d be a part of a top secret organization (like O.R.G.Y.) and he would fight operatives from various evil organizations who might be planning to dump LSD into the drinking water of Washington D.C. or something. Halfway through the novel, the hero would find himself in Africa and just after he got it on with some amazing babe, he would have a conversation with a double-agent or someone. Then the next 30 pages would be an excruciatingly boring exposition about the political situation in Northern Africa and how the last 200 years of history in that region had been derailed by European colonialism or something like that. Let’s make it clear that said conversation would have nothing to do with the plot, and would not be mentioned later in the story. It was as if the author thought to himself. “Well at the very least I can educamate these pervs in between sex scenes, and I know my editor doesn’t read my books anymore, so why not?”
Thirteen is like this but a million times more annoying. At one point in the story, our operative Carl travels to the Middle East, ostensibly to interrogate a source of information. This event, however, was REALLY set up to bore the reader with a too-clever-for-my-pants parallel discussion on politics and issues of race and genetics, right in the heart of a region of the world that is at war because of these very issues (how symbolic.) This wouldn’t be so bad if it was an isolated event, but it kept happening over and over. Carl became the man with a chip on his shoulder so huge that nobody in their right mind would ever be able to bear his presence for longer than five minutes. I kept wishing for the line: “And then Carl laughed because it all had become too absurd and he realized that he had been taking himself too seriously lately.”
Don’t get me wrong. Part of what I love about some authors like Margaret Atwood or Phillip K. Dick is their social and political relevance. I admire any author who is willing to take on social and/or political issues in their writing, but I resent being beaten over the head with it for several hundred pages in a dire, humorless manner. About three quarters of the way through this book I thought to myself. “Maybe the fact that this book never seems to end is a commentary on how racism never really ends for people who are affected by it.” And I think that was wrong.
Creepy Factor: 4 out of 5 (gets my vote for most disgusting ultra-violent scene of the year.)
Suspense Factor: 3 out of 5
Weird Erotic Tension Factor: 1 out of 5
Seriously Annoying Factor: 4 out of 5
Final result: I really loved Altered Carbon by the same author, but unless you really really loved everything else you’ve read by Morgan, I have to say pass on this book.
Thirteen – Richard K. Morgan – Del Rey – 2007
Thanks for reading another one of my book reviews on Dark in the Dark.
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