Authority
by Jeff VanderMeer
First reviewed December 2014
I still don’t use e-readers, so I’m not totally sure why I was using a technological argument against the artistic choice of splitting the Southern Reach novels into different books.
The tone and format of each book is different, so suggesting that you just stuff them into one cover seems weird to me, now.
Anyway, I didn’t like this book. Not crazy about this review, either, to be honest.
The multibook series is an anachronism. With the advent of the ebook, there remain no practical—only purely stylistic—reasons to fill multiple distinct covers with the same contiguous story. That’s not to say an author shouldn’t, just that they needn’t.
Take, for example, Authority. I typically feel no need to frame out my paragraphs—of course I am going to be discussing Authority—because you’re reading a review. Of Authority. But, let’s carry on like this writing stands on its own, like you didn’t click a hyperlink titled “Authority” in the first place. No one would jump into “Book Two of The Southern Reach Trilogy” by choice. And with the vastness of the cloud, the ubiquity of wireless, and any sort of smart phone or tablet, there is absolutely no reason why that should ever be a situation. It is not like the Kindle App is going to run out of copies of Book One.
Having everything in one extended text simplifies; The Southern Reach and if breaks beyond chapter formats are required, it is: Part One: Annihilation; Part Two: Authority; Part Three: Acceptance. I recall spending hours of my childhood in bookstores and libraries trying to decode which fantasy novel started the series, or, worse, which series was the correct jumping-off point. Was this one a prequel miniseries and this the original—so even though the second set came first chronologically, the originals were required foundation? Which to read first, Book One of the Belgariad Series or of the Mallorian Series? Was it better to jump ahead in the Angel Park All-Stars Series to Book Seven (Line Drive) because the library had it, or wait until I could continue from where I left off—Book Four (WHAT A CATCH!)? Don't even get me started on the impenetrability of the plethoric Shannara series. The nineties were a confusing decade.
Don’t misunderstand; I still prefer paper books. I appreciate not lugging 900 page tomes on subways, in cabs, and on planes. I was drawn to the shiny green embossing on the cover of Annihilation, a tactile decision that would have been flattened or removed had I been browsing on a Nook, even with the highest quality .pdf images. I like that individual novels bring a chance for a sea change in writing style or point of view. But it isn’t required. Authority may continue the story of Annihilation, but it carries nothing else with it. Legacies of the first book—a character reappearing, a location revisited--bring the thrill of memory, the joy of conspiracy: “Hey, I remember that!” But there is precious little that intertwine the two beyond plot—and it was the style, not the plot, that made the first book worth reading.
I remain unsure what conspiracy might be required to compel me into reading the third in this series, beyond the facts that: it exists; I already borrowed it from the library; I might as well. The style and tone changed so much from Book One to Book Two—became so banal—that it now seems to be merely a vehicle for pushing forward a plot in which I am barely invested. The journal-narrative conceit of the first book of the Southern Reach Trilogy—and with it, a limited point of view—brought a pinhole perspective that made the small facts you were allowed to see expand the scope of an unknowable world. Authority brings the periphery into view, and you quickly find it better remained in the imagination.
It may seem unfair to continuously compare this book to its predecessor, but that is precisely the point—no one is going to read this without having read that. All will have that perspective. I will not sit here and lament the fact that Authority isn’t Annihilation, but I will lament that it is not as engaging. It has started to go bad:
Due to his own baggage, he guessed. Due to the fact it always started out well, but then, if he stayed too long...something happened, something he couldn’t quite define. He became too invested. He became too empathic, or less so. It confused him when it all went to shit because he couldn’t remember the point at which it had started to go bad—was still convinced he could get the formula right.
My expectations for this book were set by how much I enjoyed the last—if I allow the same influence from this book to the next, the Southern Reach may be behind me.