Broken Angels

Broken Angels, by Richard Morgan

Broken Angels is Richard Morgan’s second novel, published in 2003 and the sequel to his first novel Altered Carbon which I discuss here.

Like Altered Carbon, it features his protagonist Takeshi Kovacs, here working as a mercenary in a bitterly fought war taking place on a planet with valuable alien artefacts, remnants of a race humans refer to as Martians – as that was where we found the first trace of their relics.

Altered Carbon was a work of updated cyberpunk fiction, but a work that went back to the genre’s roots and which was infused with a distinct noir sensibility. Here Morgan is writing something closer to military SF (a sub-genre I have little personal familiarity with) and the tone is therefore quite different. Morgan expands his setting, filling in details such as how humanity came to colonise the worlds it has (following Martian maps, in short) and how wars are fought and fortunes made over the artefacts this seemingly long dead race left behind them (though whether they really are dead, or simply no longer in this part of space, is not known). As Kovacs reflects:

In the end, we’re not much more than a pack of jackals, nosing through the broken bodies and wreckage of a plane crash.

It’s not giving too much away then to say that before too long, Kovacs is involved in a scheme to lay claim to what may be the greatest find in xenoarchaeology ever made, a scheme that could make his fortune and the fortune of all involved. Naturally, with a prize so valuable, other interests are involved and the result is a fast moving and exciting novel but a novel which is plot rather than character driven.

As a rule, I don’t discuss plot details on my blog, to do so can after all damage a book for a future reader quite badly. Happily, plot isn’t that important to most novels I read, so that generally leaves me quite a lot to say still. Here, the plot is so central that in avoiding spoilers I’m left unable to discuss a lot of what makes this worth reading, that said Morgan is an interesting and intelligent writer and there are some themes in this work that are I think worth bringing out.

Morgan continues to explore the mind/body problems created by his fictional future, in which human minds can be digitally stored and transferred body to body. Bodies are referred to as sleeves, and the wealthy or the useful can be resleeved on death, placed in a new body. At the novel’s start, Kovacs and the mercenary company he is attached to are sleeved in bodies genetically tweaked for combat and with elements of wolf dna included in their makeup, to encourage aggression but more importantly team bonding (pack behaviour). In the first novel, Kovacs’ sleeve causes him to be attracted to an ex-lover of that sleeve’s original inhabitant, the chemistry between them being a matter of biology rather than mind. Here, Kovacs is fiercely loyal to those he works with, a loyalty born again of his body rather than his mind. Later in the novel, at the archaeological site, Kovacs is suffering from severe radiation poisoning and the implications of being in a dying body but with a mind which can escape it are explored to good effect – the tensions between the signals the body is sending and the intellectual (but not visceral) knowledge that the poisoning is a problem of logistics, rather than mortality.

Morgan also expands his setting, perhaps less successfully. His future is one that, to anyone who has read a decent amount of SF, will seem very familiar. Machiavellan corporations use covert ops against each other while within them executives compete through dirty tricks (including assassination) as much as by more normal business techniques. A long vanished and little understood civilisation grants humanity access to advanced technology it doesn’t understand, faster than light travel is employed though without raising issues of causality. All these (particularly the precursor aliens’ concept) are SF staples, the corporations a cliche of cyberpunk fiction.

More curiously, Morgan also introduces in this novel references to Voodoo, it transpiring that some colonies practice this faith and one central character being a Houngan on the side. Although this is clearly a reference to William Gibson’s Count Zero which features Voodoo and seeming-Loa as a major element, it feels bolted on here and the occasional implications that it may have some underyling validity sit oddly in what is otherwise a broadly hard SF novel.

It is apparent from Altered Carbon how much of a debt Morgan owes to William Gibson, the two novels after all have fairly similar core stories (not that I thought to mention it in my previous writeup). The Voodoo element in Broken Angels is a continuation of that debt, and it’s not of course unusual for new authors (as Morgan still was at this point) to wear their influences a little obviously, but in Altered Carbon that influence worked to strengthen the novel where here it feels more of an intrusion.

Much more successful are Morgan’s dead aliens, the Martians (not that there’s any evidence, thankfully, that they come from Mars). Little is known of them, but what is is subtly alien, their psychology unlike ours in ways I found convincing and interesting. Each of their maps places has its place of discovery at the centre, each Martian colony considering itself the most important site of their civilisation. There is little evidence of cities, as a winged predator species the Martians seemed not to possess the herd instincts of humanity, spreading out and following settlement patterns very different to our own.

More interesting yet, is how Morgan shows that the beliefs about the Martians say far more about those holding those beliefs than they do about the Martians themselves. So little is known of the Martians, and so much of what is known ambiguous, that they become a canvas on which are painted the desires of all who consider them.

In real life, there is a fascinating direct parallel for this. Theories of the psychology and behaviour of Neanderthal man have varied dramatically through history, even now some hold views on them that bear little resemblance to what little we can deduce from their remains. Just as the Victorians considered them ape-men, and some modern day utopians herald them as beings who lived peacefully in harmony with nature, our lack of knowledge of them allows them to become what we need them to be.

In Morgan’s future, the nature of the Martians is politicised, espousing the wrong theory of their character can lead to imprisonment or worse. While academics argue (surreptitiously) over the facts, others hail them as spiritual beings since passed beyond but who could – were they still here – teach us much. Again, the lack of real evidence makes them both politically and theologically convenient, a secular receptacle for our myths.

As the novel progresses, as the artefact at the core of the plot is explored, more is learnt of their natures and the meaning of the title becomes clearer. The Martians are the broken angels, advanced beyond us to an unimaginable extent, but still for all that flawed and mortal creatures, perhaps not up to bearing the weight of belief now invested in them.

Like its predecessor, Broken Angels is in places an extremely violent novel. It also contains some explicit sex scenes, the language of which is scarcely less aggressive than the battles. The novel is written in Kovacs’ voice, and Kovacs has no metaphors to hand which are not violent ones. He thinks in terms of killing, destroying, even when engaged in sex with someone he cares for:

…she fed me into herself with the confidence of someone chambering a round.

or when asked to contemplate what it would mean to have faith:

‘You’re wrong, Hand,’ I said quietly. ‘I’d love to have access to all this shit you believe. I’d love to be able to summon someone who’s responsible for this fuck-up of a creation. Because then I’d be able to kill them, slowly.’

That violence of language makes this still a surprisingly bleak novel, characters die (some permanently) with shocking suddenness, interludes of peace are interrupted by passages of horrific brutality, Kovacs is an engine of destruction when called on to act and his opponents are no less savage. This is a novel in which largely amoral people act from greed and have no compunction about killing those who get in their way, it’s not a noir work but a noir influence does remain, including sometimes in reminders of the cost that violence carries for those not at all responsible for it:

Clotted white.
For fragments of a second, standing in the hatch of the Nagini and staring across the expanse of sand, I thought it had been snowing.
‘Gulls,’ Hand said knowledgeably, jumping down and kicking at one of the clumps of feathers underfoot. ‘Radiation from the blast must have got them.’
Out on the tranquil swells, the sea was strewn with mottled white flotsam.

Ultimately, this is for me a less successful work than Altered Carbon. That doesn’t mean it’s bad, I thought this in fact an extremely good science fiction novel, but Altered Carbon I thought reinvigorated and pushed forward the cyberpunk genre while this is happy to be an excellent example of its genre. That said, Count Zero isn’t as good as Neuromancer, so perhaps here too the Gibsonian influence is showing…

Morgan later wrote a third (and apparently final) Takeshi Kovacs novel, before that however he wrote a novel called Market Forces which is the next of his I shall read. Of Morgan’s entire output, Market Forces tempts me least being an apparently rather heavy handed satire of capitalism and featuring more of his trademark violence but without the Kovacs’ voice to account for it. After that (and Market Forces isn’t that high on my current tbr pile), it’ll be back to Kovacs for Broken Furies and then on to Morgan’s more recent works which look very interesting indeed.

Broken Angels

Advertisements

11 Comments

Filed under Morgan, Richard, Science Fiction

11 responses to “Broken Angels

  1. Market Forces is a funny one. As you say, it does not sound very good on paper but I actually really quite liked it. The (ridiculous) premise isn’t treated as satire at all, it is all done with a straight face. Like all his novels it is very violent and very interested in violence as a concept.

  2. Thanks Martin, that’s very reassuring. I like Morgan’s work so far, I know I criticise this one a bit but I did really enjoy it, I just didn’t think it as groundbreaking as the original. It’s good to hear that Market Forces is better than I feared.

    I followed the link to your blog (as you’ll see since I just left a comment there), interesting stuff.

  3. I would caution that Market Forces is still a very polarising book so don’t blame me if you hate it!

    I just didn’t think it as groundbreaking as the original.

    I had the opposite problem. The hype surrounding Altered Carbon adversely affected the way I read it whereas with Broken Angels I had enough distance to start appreciating what he was trying to do. I liked Woken Furies even more, although be warned, it does complete the trajectory from cyperpunk to military SF started in Broken Angels.

  4. Happily I got to Altered Carbon so long after the hype I was barely aware of it, I associated Morgan more with Black Man. Of course, looking back I probably agreed with the hype, but at least I had the advantage of distance as you did with Broken Angels.

    I figured Woken Furies would go that way, I still look forward to it though. I wouldn’t want Morgan just to try to repeat Altered Carbon, over and over.

    And don’t worry, if I hate Market Forces I hate it, them’s the risks you take with any book.

  5. Max: I left you a note of JS’s blog but I expect it is long buried by now.

    If you are interested the Pushkin novella that was part of the give-away, I would recommend an Everyman hardcover that includes the Belkin Tales, The Captain’s Daughter, A History of Pugachev (one of the things that got Pushkin into trouble) and many other stories. It is a splendid edition and very reasonably priced.

    As for SF, still not into it, but if I am ever tempted, I will start with Philip Dick.

  6. GB Steve

    Have you read Gateway? It’s a very different take on the precursor myth, and the future of Earth too.

    I have read one of Morgan’s books probably Altered Carbon. It was fun but not especially memorable.

  7. marco

    Hi, Max. For some reason I cannot post comments anymore on the Torque blog. Maybe the problem is that I’ve cleared my cookies along with Firefox’s chronology and now my “new” first comment must be moderated again. In the meantime, I’ve managed to retrieve the text, so I’ll post my answer here:

    “The ones translated by Europa Editions should be good. I’ve heard bad things about The Colombian Mule and The Master of Knots, which have been translated by another publisher.
    From Europa I highly recommend also Ahmara Lakhous’s Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorio:
    here you can find introduction, interview and excerpt:

    http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/?lab=MaudNewtonClashIntro

    http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/?lab=RutaInterviewLakhous

    http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/?lab=LakhousClash

    Back on topic, I think only commercial genres are considered “true” genres. The others are considered acceptable modes of expression.
    The assumption is :published in a genre (sf,horror,romance) = commercial = adheres to genre conventions = formulaic.

    Your definition of what constitutes “literaryness”- style/language and psychological truth – is good, but not entirely satisfactory. You imply that genre fiction is usually satisfied with flat characters and unremarkable prose because its interests lie elsewhere: this is often true, but not always.
    Furthermore, I can think about genre and literary works which fit your definition and yet still feel somehow pointless. Ultimately both style and depth of character are means to an end – they are a function of what you want to achieve, what you want to communicate.

    Either it’s about the best book (and how do I compare Manifold Space with The Reluctant Fundamentalist exactly?

    Oh, but how do you compare an experimental/postmodern literary work with a naturalist one?

    It may not be the best metaphor, but many culinary prizes examine different dishes – and the judges must not be influenced by their personal tastes. Obviously the comparison is indirect – the winner is the one which seems to better succeed according to its own terms.
    There would be a higher level of arbitrariness, but it shouldn’t be impossible.”

    I’m surprised you haven’t heard of Goodis. He was a pulp writer, so it’s likely some of his lesser known works aren’t that good, but The Moon in the Gutter, Dark Passage, Down There and Nightfall are first class.
    If you haven’t , check out also Charles Willeford and James Crumley (The Last Good Kiss).

  8. Damn, an internet hiccup ate a lengthy reply.

    Guy, A Scanner Darkly I consider one of the finest novels dealing with the issue of addiction I’ve read, regardless of genre.

    That said, Dick was a prolific writer, as well as his more thoughtful stuff he wrote a lot of (in my view good quality) pulp sf. I thoroughly enjoy novels like Our Friends from Frolix 8 or The World Jones Made, but I wouldn’t recommend them to a non-SF enthusiast. A Scanner Darkly I would, by contrast.

    Put shorter, he’s worth getting recommendations on, there’s a lot of stuff not all of the same quality.

    Steve,

    I have read Gateway, great book. Like Rendevous with Rama, I think it’s diminished if anything by its sequels though, better as a standalone with mystery intact. It’s one of those that helped create the whole precursor ruins trope isn’t it? Lots of fun.

    Speaking of which, it’s interesting that Altered Carbon which for me was a groundbreaking and innovative work for you was fun but not memorable. Tastes do vary so much, thankfully really (it would be dull otherwise). At least Morgan won one of us over…

  9. I’d already heard of the Lakhous, but had forgotten it. Thanks for the reminder. Thanks also for the Carlotto warning, the Europa editions are good and it’s useful to know the others aren’t up to the same standard.

    I agree the assumption is as you say, I think it’s a false one though. A book may be commercial, and excellent, and genre writers do so more I think because that’s what they want to write than for commercial drivers (excluding perhaps fat fantasy, but perhaps even there, I’d really need the authors to tell me).

    Your right of course that my definition breaks down, definitions are by their nature artificial, at the end of the day there are only books that interest us or don’t, that achieve their goals or don’t. Genre is a post-hoc categorisation, always flawed.

    There’s certainly pointless literary works, I have read some McEwan.

    On your penultimate para, perhaps not impossible, but I doubt a single judge on the Booker panel would be competent to compare an Alistair Reynolds and a Ken MacLeod, I doubt they lack the vocabulary. Perhaps I’m being defeatist though. You do make good points on how to compare, but Stephen Baxter has argued that the quality of his characterisation simply isn’t that important to what he’s looking to achieve. If you read books for character, for depth, how do you get past that?

    Thanks for popping by incidentally, and thanks for those final recommendations. We all have gaps, your suggestions fall into mine, I suspect you have more depth of knowledge of noir than I do, I know some of the best stuff, but by no means all of it.

  10. Pingback: The Link Hand of God « Torque Control

  11. Pingback: The joys of trickledown | Pechorin’s Journal

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s