Bringing together twelve bleak, powerful short stories into a single volume (published by Grimdark Magazine), T.R. Napper’s cyberpunk collection Neon Leviathan paints a suitably, at times harrowingly grim picture of a not too distant future. Across a deliberately jumbled, back-and-forth timeline Napper explores tales of desperation, survival, love, loss, corporate greed, oppression and fear, all set in a loosely defined world formed from a warring, conflicted melange of Australia, South and Southeast Asia. As nations, alliances and realities blur, as technology becomes increasingly pervasive and life ever more stratified, Napper asks questions of what’s real, what’s possible and what people will do to survive.
Many of these stories have appeared individually in various publications before, while some are newly written for this collection, but they all share thematic links if not tangible narrative connections. Spanning a period of approximately 150 years, from eerily close to today and onwards, they’re presented intentionally out of sequence, challenging the reader to look for connections and teasing with shared characters and/or recurring names. Almost all revolve around memory – as currency (and therefore power), as links to past selves and identities, as something to be exploited or manipulated, shaken up, misused or underappreciated – and questionable reality, in which both characters and readers are unclear on what the truth really is. From soldiers on and off the battlefield to scientists, thieves, gamblers and fighters, almost everyone in these stories is hiding from or trying to escape their past or their future, irrevocably tied up with their memories and senses of self.
Whether there’s a single overarching narrative is really up to each reader to decide, but there’s no question that these stories are all set in a shared future – and a bleak one at that, with every gleaming technological marvel contrasted by oppressive consequences. While Napper predicts power and opportunity for those graced with wealth and prosperity, and little more than war, hardship and struggle for those without, there’s an overriding sense of being shown the consequences – for everyone – of the modern age. There’s a smattering of action throughout, much of which is visceral and thrilling, but even at its pulpiest this is more about the hell these characters are going through – or often that they have gone through – than heroics or glory. The war (or wars), individual battles, bare-knuckle scraps and frantic tussles, are all as often remembered and reflected upon as actually portrayed, conflict an ever-present shadow looming large in memories both personal and cultural.
This isn’t escapist fiction, it’s thought-provoking, concern-provoking science fiction at its best and most haunting. Powerfully, worryingly relevant and relatable, these stories are tough to read – very few are anything other than heartbreaking – but at the same time wonderfully written, and utterly compelling. There’s beauty hidden amongst the darkness, in quiet moments of emotion and human connection, but more prevalent is an agonising sense of inevitability, of characters incapable of escaping their lot in life with everything stacked so firmly against them, so much so that all they can do is acquiesce, or keep digging themselves deeper. It’s a book that’s best absorbed in small doses, both to appreciate the fabulous writing and avoid becoming overwhelmed by the darkness and the blurred realities, but it feels like an important one too, with a strong voice and a lot to say.
i bought the book, because i was intrigued by richard k. morgan’s comment in his blog. Excellent review! thank you.
Thanks! Hope you enjoy the book 🙂