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Tuesday, 12 December 2006 18:35 |
| | David Forbes |
This week Iëm going to take a pause from the usual reviews to highlight a rather obscure book that falls into the category of "undiscovered gem," in my opinion.
The book is "Cat Karina" by Michael Coney (eReads, 223 pages, $15.95), fortunately back in print now, a science fiction novel that manages to juggle a huge array of innovative ideas along with some fascinating characters and, by the end, some real emotional impact.
The story takes place countless millenia in the future. Humans have been to space and then collapsed back in again to earth. In the process, they created countless hybrids tailored for certain tasks, by combining animal DNA with their own. The descendants of those "Specialists" live in an uneasy peace with the regular humans. On top of that, they all have adopted an alien religion that bans them from working metal, kindling fire or killing any living thing ÇƒÓ and thatës only the beginning.
The
story focuses around Karina, a feline-human hybrid whoës caught up in a
nexus of social upheaval along with the general problems of growing up.
Then thereës the
fact that Karinaës destiny is central to the plots of a Dedo, an
immortal priestess working to free a seemingly benevolent deity from a
dimensional prison erected by humans in their technological heyday.
Got that?
By all rights, a
book with this many ideas, characters and plot strands thrown into a
setting this strange shouldnët work. It should be incoherent, absurd or
pretentious crap.
Whatës so wonderfully surprising about "Cat Karina" is that it is absolutely none of those things.
Coney was a
Canadian science fiction author who, sadly, died in 2005. He had a long
and prolific career, notable for putting truly original ideas into
every work and for never really receiving the recognition he deserved.
This is, in my opinion, his best work, but anyone looking for something
wonderfully different to dig into would be well advised to try most
anything with his name on it.
 I first found
"Cat Karina" in the late ǃÚ90s in the discount bin at the local used
bookstore. Long out of print at that point, the yellowed copy cost 50
cents, boasted a cover that bore almost no relation to the novel and
had a publishing date of August, 1982 ÇƒÓ a month before I was born. I
bought it because it looked suitably strange and for the price, well, I
really couldnët go wrong.
I took it home
and found that I couldnët put it down ÇƒÓ I read it straight through in
one sitting. It has been one of the only books I have picked up again
every few years and still found fresh and enjoyable. I have read many
and continue, time and money allowing, to read many more. This is still
one of my favorites. Everyone, I hope, has a few books like that.
Why does it work so well?
Coneyës writing
makes the world live and breathe. Despite the totally exotic nature of
his setup, the prose, eloquent and naturalistic at the same time, makes
it seem real and immediate.
Grounding the
tale in truly three-dimensional characters helps. Karina, her
revolutionary father El Tigre, the young human Raoul who finds his
family on the wrong side of hers, along with a multitude of other
supporting characters ÇƒÓ all of them act, react and screw up in the most
believable sort of way. This helps render the rather grandiose ideas
running around the book enjoyable instead of absurd.
The novelës
structure proves as groundbreaking as some of its concepts. Since the
entire book is based around destiny and choices, the plot occasionally
diverges, showing briefly what would have happened if someone acted
differently. Characters connected to Karina even get their own brief
tales.
Wisely, these
tangents are never long enough to detract from the central plot. In
doing this, Coney successfully accomplished something that few authors
can boast ÇƒÓ he rendered his story truly multi-faceted while still
keeping it eminently readable.
The result is a
beautiful novel that functions as several stories in one ÇƒÓ an
action-filled tale of political upheaval, a coming of age story, a
cosmic epic and a sly rebuke to anyone who yearns for an pastoral
"utopia."
Most of all,
"Cat Karina" is a reminder that every choice, no matter how small,
sends out ripples and affects the world around us in ways we cannot
begin to grasp.
Books are no
different. They can survive their original times and authors to still
reach us in ways we canët predict. This is one such book. Read it. You
wonët be sorry.
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