One of Us by
Michael Marshall Smith
hbk out July 98
Published by HarperCollins
at £12.99
ONE OF US set me to thinking about what it is that constitutes great writing. It's not just language or storytelling or characterization or insight; I don't even think it's *all* those things (though it would be one hell of a head start). It's not hard
to know what *bad* writing is -- sadly -- but the difference between competent writing or entertaining writing and great writing comes
down, in the end, to little things. And it is precisely those little things that Michael Marshall so excels at, and which make him, I
enviously have to admit, a great writer.
ONE OF US is Smith's third novel, and is both of a piece and a step beyond his earlier work. Smith plays the mixed genre game a
dangerous game from a marketing point of view but a highly rewarding one for the enlightened reader. The publisher calls ONE OF US a thriller, though as it is set in the near future, it is probably most likely to be found on the science fiction shelves. The
structure is classic hardboiled detective -- cynical, urban, first-person, smart-ass, one step ahead of the reader -- even if the book's
accoutrements and ultimate message are not. The book has the same dazzling unpredictability of ONLY FORWARD and shares the tone and boldness of SPARES, but is not redundant of either previous novel. Like Michael Crichton, Smith is fast becoming a genre unto himself; but Crichton isn't fit to write Smith's shopping list.
The hero of ONE OF US, Hap Thompson, is your basic small-time Los Angeles loser who's stumbled onto a great scam: through a
slightly dubious technology he dreams other people's bad dreams for them. From there it's a tiny step up to the more dubious, and
definitely illegal, process of caretaking other people's memories. Memories of murder, say. Memories that can, and do, bring the whole
world down on what you're carrying inside your head.
The plot of ONE OF US zips around like a hummingbird on speed. It may not entirely make sense, but it's absorbing and clever and
moves so fast that you pass right over the odd "but-what-about..." The characters are familiar, yet fresh and likeable, and the dialogue damn close to perfect. Smith has a voice that's as smooth as ancient Scotch, yet snarky as a ferret in your trousers. And best of all, he does all the little things.
Those little things consist of moments, liberally sprinkled throughout the book, where you find yourself smiling at a turn of
phrase or nodding at a casually tossed off, but devastating insight into the essence of the human condition. The kind of things good
books are *supposed* to do, but hardly ever do. There are so many of these little moments in a Smith novel, tiny throwaways any one of which would be the highpoint of someone else's book, that you wonder
how a guy so young got to be so bloody smart. And where can I buy some?
Which is not to say ONE OF US is beyond criticism. As in his other books, Smith perhaps packs a little *too* much into the novel for its own good. There are so many ideas and clever bits and old-fashioned schtick, that it isn't all as fully developed as it might be. For example, the walking-talking household appliances which figure rather prominently in the plot, are not really credible, though they are very funny. To be fair, Smith doesn't entirely mean them to be believable: he is playing the kind of games with science fiction that "magic realists" play with fantasy elements in their novels. "Magic technologicalism" perhaps?
Smith ends the novel with an especially bold ploy, one that is vital to the thematic core of the book, but one which, it must be said, will infuriate some readers. Those who are only interested in conventional narrative pleasure may hate the ending of ONE OF US. But then the book and Smith's career are about rather more than conventional narrative pleasure; they are about, at risk of being presumptuous, the little things that make life and literature such a joy.
(
Jay Russell
- one of the greatest talents the horror industry has produced for some time… (Black Tears))
One of Us by
Michael Marshall Smith