B O O K S

The latest Red Dwarf novel has been five years coming, and has lost a co-author somewhere along the way. But it's all been worth it. Doug Naylor's solo mission has taken Red Dwarf into new territory, and it's a pretty wild ride.

The story lifts off with our pal Lister being rudely awoken by a poorly digested bowl of cabbage soup. He's on his way to Cyberhell, sentenced to 18 years' hard thought for the heinous crimes he will commit at some point in the future.

It all seems straightforward for the first few pages, but then suddenly we make a sharp u-turn back into the past and embark on an action-packed journey that leaps recklessly across time and space with so many twists and turns that delicate readers would be well advised to bring a sickbag.

Last Human is a veritable frenzy of sci-fi. Doug Naylor pulls out all the stops on the futuristic control panel, creating an intricate scenario of the universe in x-hundred years' time. There are various new life forms, all manner of interesting viruses, and too many alternate selves to possibly keep track of. And it hurtles along at warp speed -- at times I was only just hanging on to the rear bumper.

The characters in Last Human are explored with more depth than in previous stories, and their adventures are of an unprecedentedly epic nature. And of course, it's all done with classic Red Dwarf style -- packed with snide chuckles and uncomfortably vivid similes. (Life in Cyberhell for Lister is "like living inside the mouth of a senile dog after it had smoked a pack of Turkish cigarettes".) Cynical readers may find the super-cheese warm fuzzies at the end a bit much, though.

Fast-paced, imaginative, thoughtful and funny, Last Human is an ambitious effort that, for the most part, actually lives up to its prodigious aspirations -- a rare achievement in sci-fi humour. Red Dwarf fans will not be disappointed.

Evening Standard, 12 May, 1996

"A Modern Revelation" is a big ask for a first novel, and unfortunately E.J. Michael just can't pull it off.

Although I was initially attracted by the blurb's promises of shamanic quests, political intrigue and mystical truths, it proved something of a struggle to get past vacuous inanities like the second sentence: "I've remained forever charmed by the notion that it is possible to live a life imbued with love and joy." Euchhh!

The story goes that Jason, frustrated artist and Really Nice Guy, stumbles across an ancient relic one day, which leads him into the South American jungle in search of peace, truth and personal enlightment.

He has meaningful conversations with various spiritual guides who declaim such pearls of wisdom as: "By subtle alterations in your habitual states of thought and feeling, combined with the transformation of your will, you will eventually reach the loftiest spiritual plateaus".

He also flies across canyons, meets his guardian angel, and learns all you need is love -- oh, and along the way manages to spiritually reawaken the leader of an evil global conspiracy. What a guy.

There are a lot of fascinating ideas in Queen of the Sun, but the attempt to blend them into a gripping adventure story fails dismally. Personally I'd rather have read a straightforward theoretical essay than bother with Jason's tedious educational processes.

If it's mystical truths revealed through wild fictional capers that you're after, read Tom Robbins. If it's a bland and patronising dissertation on New Age platitudes, give Queen of the Sun a go.

Evening Standard, 02 March, 1996