Stars: 2 out of 5.
This was my first encounter with cory Doctorow, and the result is rather underwhelming. The blurb sounded very promissing – a forensic accountant, cybercrimes, cryptocurrencies, and all that jaz. I was fully onboard and ready to enjoy a good story. Unfortunately, the book itself was a big disappointment.
My biggest issue with this book, and why me and this story didn’t mesh at all, is the writing style. The prose is extremely dry and impersonal, even though it’s not third person omniscient. We are watching the events unfold from Marin’s perspective. But the book reads more like an instruction manual than a heart-poinding crime story. I mean, the author describes a horrifying scene of death and torture in the same dry language as a romantic encounter our protagonist has with one of his lady friends. Both scenes are supposed to evoke emotions, instead, they just induce boredom.
Part of the problem is also that the author doesn’t particularly do a good job with showing things. We are told that Martin is profoundly shocked by what he saw when he found those slain kids, but we are not shown that. Show us hims having nightmares about it, or a panic attack once he gets out of the crime scene, or something. Don’t just tell me that he didn’t sleep well, then continue with the story like nothing happened. I can’t be emotionally invested in a situation, if the protagonist doesn’t seem to care one way or another either.
My second problem is Marty himself. Boy, does he have plot armor or what? Also, he reads more like the author’s wish fulfilment than a real person. So he is 67, doesn’t exercise or try to keep himself in shape (at least the author doesn’t mention him going to the gym even once or for a hike, or something). He drinks like an Irishman, easts whatever he wants… yet he doesn’t seem to have any health issues (at 67), or have to take medication for anything, and he can spend weeks homeless in the streets of SF and still be a functional human being after that? Oh, and all hot, intelligent, younger women he encounters fall head over heels for him instantly. No seriously, this guy has more intimate encounters in this book than James Bond. Either this dude won the gene pool jackpot, or the author really doesn’t know what being in upper sixties feels like for most of the population.
On top of that, the story got bogged down in useless descriptions of dinners the protagonist cooked and consumed, alcohol he drank, or other rather useless trivia that didn’t advance the plot in any way. I mean, you could easily have trimmed off at least 100 pages. It would have made the book a lot tighter and faster to read. As it stood, I got bored a few times while reading and had to skim along until the plot would pick up again.
All in all, this was a disappointing book for me. I don’t think I will be continuing with this series, and honestly, I don’t know if I will check out other books by this author.
PS: I received an advanced copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.