Friday, 10 February 2023 09:14 pm
Book Review: Upgrade
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deckardcanineTwo friends of the family recommended Blake Crouch's recent book to my parents, who then read it and passed it on to me. They don't normally read much sci-fi, but if all four liked it, who was I to say no?
Some decades from now, following a huge famine resulting from an experiment gone awry, all genetic research without direct government oversight is highly illegal. Miriam Ramsay, the genius in charge of that disastrous project, has committed suicide. Her 40-something son, Logan, the first-person narrator, hopes to clear his name by working for the U.S. Gene Protection Agency (GPA), unhappily arresting scientists he used to envy. At least he loves his wife and daughter.
One day, Logan walks into a trap that alters his DNA. To his surprise, he gradually finds that all the mutations are arguably positive. He doesn't really look any different, but his immune system and physical abilities are enhanced. More importantly, he's gone from slightly above the average IQ to putting Sherlock Holmes to shame with perfect lifelong recall, impeccable observational skills, superb multitasking, and a knack for shelving his feelings. (I wouldn't call this a superhero story.)
Of course, this isn't all good from a social standpoint. To Logan, unenhanced adults are like children. And once the GPA catches on, they don't want him to be a free man.
Alas, the government is not the worst enemy this time. Logan's sister, Kara, who also got the upgrade, gains the means and motive to spread it virally across the world. Just making involuntary mutants is controversial enough, especially when the initial illness is always an ordeal. But what self-respecting scientist would extrapolate from a sample size of two? And when the virus turns out to have more than a one-in-eight chance of condemning the recipient to an agonizing death, Kara and her allies still consider the price worth paying.
No, not for the relief of intelligent companionship. In case you haven't guessed, these radicals believe that only an enlightened humanity can save itself from extinction within 150 years. Logan does not deny this literal deadline, based partly on the flooding of Manhattan, but he's not at all convinced that this virus will get survivors to change their ways for the better, let alone that it's the sole or best approach. Heck, he could have cited the almost immediate enmity between him and beloved Kara as proof that the upgrade doesn't guarantee agreement. (Really, why not take time to talk this out? While 150 years isn't much on a biological scale, it's hardly nothing to lose.)
OK, I have one answer to my parenthetical question: the author's need for excitement. This story reads like it's dying to get adapted -- upgraded, if you will -- into a movie. It wouldn't even need any extraordinary effects. If done right, it could be the next Minority Report.
That might actually be selling Upgrade short. Haste aside, it is very smartly thought out. It feels quite timely, even making brief mention of COVID-19, but stands to become a classic. Whether or not you believe we're that close to killing ourselves via climate impact, you should agree with the more specific lesson not to let desperation make you a monster.
When I say "monster," I don't want you to think of sheer villainy. Nobody in this book comes across as all that evil, with the possible exception of a one-scene thug who takes pleasure in violence. The main failing is hubris. It matches what I've grown to believe more year after year: Braininess and wisdom have very little to do with each other, as the former tends to put too much faith in itself. Fortunately, Logan never (for long, at least) loses sight of the importance of compassion in the equation.
I do have a few nits to pick. First, Logan's GPA tester is far too impressed at his ability to follow the Fibonacci sequence. I could do that, and he's already outclassed me by that point. Second, if I were the editor, I'd allow a lot fewer one-sentence paragraphs, particularly when they seem to emphasize trivial details. It's as jarring to me as dramatic music in an uneventful film scene.
I won't say that the ending is the happiest one available, but it was probably the best choice for storytelling. It doesn't assert an ideal solution. It just cooks your noodle one last time. Well, before the next Crouch read. I have got to get me another.
For now, I'm starting Lady Slings the Booze by Spider Robinson. That promises to be amusing.
Some decades from now, following a huge famine resulting from an experiment gone awry, all genetic research without direct government oversight is highly illegal. Miriam Ramsay, the genius in charge of that disastrous project, has committed suicide. Her 40-something son, Logan, the first-person narrator, hopes to clear his name by working for the U.S. Gene Protection Agency (GPA), unhappily arresting scientists he used to envy. At least he loves his wife and daughter.
One day, Logan walks into a trap that alters his DNA. To his surprise, he gradually finds that all the mutations are arguably positive. He doesn't really look any different, but his immune system and physical abilities are enhanced. More importantly, he's gone from slightly above the average IQ to putting Sherlock Holmes to shame with perfect lifelong recall, impeccable observational skills, superb multitasking, and a knack for shelving his feelings. (I wouldn't call this a superhero story.)
Of course, this isn't all good from a social standpoint. To Logan, unenhanced adults are like children. And once the GPA catches on, they don't want him to be a free man.
Alas, the government is not the worst enemy this time. Logan's sister, Kara, who also got the upgrade, gains the means and motive to spread it virally across the world. Just making involuntary mutants is controversial enough, especially when the initial illness is always an ordeal. But what self-respecting scientist would extrapolate from a sample size of two? And when the virus turns out to have more than a one-in-eight chance of condemning the recipient to an agonizing death, Kara and her allies still consider the price worth paying.
No, not for the relief of intelligent companionship. In case you haven't guessed, these radicals believe that only an enlightened humanity can save itself from extinction within 150 years. Logan does not deny this literal deadline, based partly on the flooding of Manhattan, but he's not at all convinced that this virus will get survivors to change their ways for the better, let alone that it's the sole or best approach. Heck, he could have cited the almost immediate enmity between him and beloved Kara as proof that the upgrade doesn't guarantee agreement. (Really, why not take time to talk this out? While 150 years isn't much on a biological scale, it's hardly nothing to lose.)
OK, I have one answer to my parenthetical question: the author's need for excitement. This story reads like it's dying to get adapted -- upgraded, if you will -- into a movie. It wouldn't even need any extraordinary effects. If done right, it could be the next Minority Report.
That might actually be selling Upgrade short. Haste aside, it is very smartly thought out. It feels quite timely, even making brief mention of COVID-19, but stands to become a classic. Whether or not you believe we're that close to killing ourselves via climate impact, you should agree with the more specific lesson not to let desperation make you a monster.
When I say "monster," I don't want you to think of sheer villainy. Nobody in this book comes across as all that evil, with the possible exception of a one-scene thug who takes pleasure in violence. The main failing is hubris. It matches what I've grown to believe more year after year: Braininess and wisdom have very little to do with each other, as the former tends to put too much faith in itself. Fortunately, Logan never (for long, at least) loses sight of the importance of compassion in the equation.
I do have a few nits to pick. First, Logan's GPA tester is far too impressed at his ability to follow the Fibonacci sequence. I could do that, and he's already outclassed me by that point. Second, if I were the editor, I'd allow a lot fewer one-sentence paragraphs, particularly when they seem to emphasize trivial details. It's as jarring to me as dramatic music in an uneventful film scene.
I won't say that the ending is the happiest one available, but it was probably the best choice for storytelling. It doesn't assert an ideal solution. It just cooks your noodle one last time. Well, before the next Crouch read. I have got to get me another.
For now, I'm starting Lady Slings the Booze by Spider Robinson. That promises to be amusing.