There are some books that I’ve read that could have benefited from being trimmed down. It seems that authors sometimes try to get dense and intense, especially in the sci-fi/fantasy genres. Dune springs to mind. And while I haven’t even finished the Game of Thrones, its emphasis on royalty and lineage and so forth intimidates me. I like to be challenged with what I read, but if it gets to be more-work-than-fun (particularly in a genealogical way) I usually give up. Call it a mixture of ADD/laziness…
And man…Lexicon was work! But I finished it. Not because of the compelling characters or interesting story (which are barely relatable and confusingly non-linear, respectively) but because I wasn’t going to let it win. I might have been goaded by the rave reviews of friends and co-workers, too. But (while this is a science fiction novel, set in the near future) the most startling realization that I made after finishing this teeth-grinding novel is that it might have benefited from being expanded into a least another novel, if not a series. And it is currently fashionable to write the obligatory three-book series (especially in the YA realm). A prime example of a need to “explode” the story is the progression of Emily, the lead female character, from street-waif to student to banished pariah to love-lorn rebel, which felt rushed and at times confusing. How bout at least an entire novel dedicated to her time at Poet School? This was one case where I thought a more expansive view of the characters and the story and their world would have actually improved the effectiveness of all three aspects of the novel.
Also, I found myself asking too many questions. And not in a fun way. “Is she ultimately the villain here? What is she doing in the beginning of the novel?” I enjoy non-linear storytelling and respect the risks Barry took with his novel, but I only felt grounded in the world of the novel at the very end. And even if that was the point, it was never very effective in increasing my enjoyment of the novel or unraveling the plot.
One final note: Regardless of the characters, plot, or confusing nature of the storytelling, one major beef I had with the novel was the frequent profanity. Now, I’m no prude. Pulp Fiction is one of my top favorite films of all time as is Goodfellas. I love a good eff-bomb as much as the next guy. But in a novel where the main plot device centers around the power and profundity of language as a weapon wielded by an elite band of highly-trained operatives, maybe Barry could have given them some more interesting expletives to shout when the going got rough.
If you are having a hankering for sci-fi, I suggest Mark Weir's The Martian instead.