At the Path's End

Well, what a denouement Neuropath has.

After the big twist that all of the book's blurbs promised we get a solid 60 pages of falling action that lead to an ending that isn't entirely what you'd expect. At least from a narrative standpoint. Sort of.

For, you see, in those pages upon pages of denouement we learn all about the intricacies of the creation of neuropaths and what is necessary for them to come about. And we get some of Bakker's more stripped down writing. His writing style is particularly on display in those parts where he attempts to describe things outside of normal experience.

Other writers might just not bother trying to describe these things in concrete ways, opting instead for the abstract and the absurd, but Bakker instead describes such things as the breakdown and alteration of perception in basic terms. This approach works, but it makes for a clinical explanation of something truly tremendous.

Though, that *is* the purpose of the book.

A phrase that keeps coming up in the book's end sequence is "the brain observing itself" and being able to get past the concept of the "mind." Although outside of regular experience it's possible that Bakker is suggesting that just that sort of a clinical perspective is the one that a brain aware of itself for what it truly is would take up. In that way his descriptions in this section of the book work, but otherwise concretizing the abstract is what I expect from Bakker, and he certainly delivers, but the ending as a whole left me wanting more.

When it comes down to it everything's too neatly tied up. It has the same impact as the ending of 1984 - hell, maybe that's just it. maybe they have the same kind of ending where the terror of the climax's trauma is so great that it taints the denouement's release of the reader's interests in the world of the book and leaves them with heavy things to think on.

So it works, but I wonder if it's maybe not a little out of place, I mean, all of the neurological stuff was neat, and the Chiropractor reveal was somewhat surprising too, but I think my biggest problem is that the book runs about 60 pages too long.

Aside from releasing Thomas, Nora, Ripley, and Frankie back into the world with a brand new perspective, the end of the book just doesn't accomplish much plot-wise. And when it comes to the endings of books that's generally what's focussed on.

What a Twist!

Well, I totally called it. "The seed is strong," indeed.

Frankie is Neil's son, not Thomas'. However, that's not the book's twist that all the blurbs rave about. That twist is indeed a twisty twist of unexpected proportions. Someone even closer to Thomas than Neil turns out to be the true villain.

However, looking back this reveal doesn't make much sense. I mean, it turns out that Thomas indeed was the target of all of the neurological attacks, but I can't really say (or see) why exactly. For all it matters it could have been anyone who was targeted, and his being a psychology professor was more of a danger to his attackers only when they attacked, otherwise it was hardly a liability. So I feel like the motivation for the villains is lacking, but still. With another 80 pages to go, I could still find a satisfactory motivation.

Also, this is the chapter where the title finally gets mentioned! We find out just what a neuropath is, and it's totally whacked stuff.

Rather curiously, though, the idea of a neuropath, a term that refers to anyone who's had their brain re-wired, reminds me of the homunculi from the anime Full Metal Alchemist.

In this series the homunculi are beings created from attempts to resurrect the dead, and as such are just shells of people. A major part of the series' big plot arc is these beings' struggle to gain human souls and thus to become fully human. I think the connection between them and neuropaths comes up for me, because of some deep-seated idea that the human soul is the totality of a natural brain - to take bits away or to switch bits about somehow removes the soul.

Motivated Reading

So, I've recently been reminded why why I was a bit hesitant about Neuropath when still early into it.

Bakker's pared down style is great and his characters are decent enough, but he doesn't play fair with his information.

In what was read for this entry Thomas figures out Neil's true motive based on a chain of thoughts and events that start with his realization that he is connected to all of the people that Neil has kidnapped. He voted for the congressman, he protested against the businessman, he argued with Nora about a book by the preacher, he had the porn star in his psychology intro course. And, of course, Frankie is his son (so far it seems that yesterday's entry will be off the mark with my speculation about that).

All of this is fine and dandy, but Bakker doesn't dole out these connections throughout the book. Instead he has him come across the connection to Cynthia Powski (the porn star) and then tells us about the other connections outright. Because this is a major thing, and part of the fun of a thriller is trying to work things out for yourself, Bakker effectively shuts us down on that front.

Keeping this information in Thomas' head up to this point while having him boldly think that he had been batting around the other connections, but Powski cemented it as fact, is not a good way to engage readers in your story. However, I've kept on reading because of my curiousity about the Argument, and, particularly over a few pages after this connection was made, wondering "so what?" - what's Neil's real motive?

Well.

That question at least finally got answered in this section.

Neil is doing all of these things and showing them to Thomas because, at least so far as Thomas thinks, he's trying to overcome his own shame - the shame he feels for being in love with Thomas.

If this is the twist, then it's pretty twisty, but definitely not as grandiose as I had expected from the book's blurbs. Bakker does a fine job of explaining why and how Neil's shame would work as a motive, though.

Still, Tom and Sam are now about to confront Neil, and the next bit of the book will indeed be the conclusion.

Moments of Crisis

Okay, so the shit's really hit the fan at this point in Neuropath.

Thomas' son Frankie's been taken by Neil and as a nice little "fuck you" Neil killed the dog on his way out (or so I believe, since it's not yet been confirmed). Also, Nora's told Sam that she and Tom fucked a week earlier, and so Tom's relationship with Sam has been thrown up in the air as well. When asked by Atta and Gerard (the other two agents on the Neil case), Tom has described Neil's motive as going through and methodically showing how the brain constructs those concepts that people consider essential to and characteristic of humanity: pleasure, will/responsibility, spirituality, and love (so far, I've yet to find out if Neil gets around to any more).

Just as when any madman is figured out - or, when the one doing the figuring has figured said madman out as much as his capacity allows him to - it causes the figurer to break down. Thomas is no exception, as things begin to very quickly accumulate for him.

Plus, chapter 12 is the first and only one to be presented without a date and time attached. It stands alone in a crowd, a halo of emptiness around it, making it different, yet limited. Thomas' mental breakdown in this chapter reminds me of Harry Truman's in Twin Peaks, after the death of Josie.

Of course, Thomas is the grief stricken parent rather than the grief stricken lover, but for me the comparison stands. These two positions are comparable in my mind because they are both reactions to a deep loss, and in the terms that the book itself sets out, both are related to reproduction and the carrying on of genes, the mourning and grieving that go on in both situations are all about conditioned responses and impulses in the brain.

Still, I wonder if we'll get anything else from Frankie's perspective. He's been taken and Neil apparently put something in his brain that has his fear responses on loop. After this gets cleared up (assuming, of course, that it does) I'll be curious to see if Frankie's perspective on life has changed, or if Bakker reveals what I suspect - that Frankie is in fact Neil's own son.

While thinking about why Nora cheated on him even before their marriage, all I could think of was Jon Arryn's dying words: "The seed is strong." I'm waiting on the twist that all the book's blurbs rave about with great anticipation, and here I was worried that I'd see it coming!

A Fresh Perspective

All I have to say about what happens next in Neuropath is that sometimes you win some, and sometimes you lose some.

The book actually has two perspective characters: Thomas, and his son Frankie.

But Frankie's part (so far) has only been to get us readers into the world of Thomas' kids. They're definitely an important part of his life, and very much a major part of his normalizing method in his time of crisis (finding out that his ex-wife was cheating on him with his best friend, that said best friend is a psychopath among psychopaths), but I'm not sure what Bakker could hope to achieve by letting us into their eyes except to show us how much of a construction Thomas' idea of what his kids are really is.

Yet that would require more from the perspective of his kids, and not just a scene that's kind of a tension release valve since the kids go through a perceived crisis moment while camping in the backyard (Frankie worries about "sick-sickos" coming for them out of the night, and when one seems to be approaching it's just Thomas, their dad, pretending to be a bear).

Though, at the same time, Frankie's thoughts about the world outside the tent (really outside the home, since these thoughts are accompanied by thoughts of starting pre-school) being "dark, big, and hollow, filled with great nothings and terrible anythings" seems awfully sophisticated to be merely part of a simple relief passage.

Anyway, after we get this other perspective we're brought right back to Thomas' as he sits and watches over the kids, eventually being joined by Mia. Their conversation is a neat recap of and addition to the goings on of the book so far, and the mentions of the killer known as "The Chiropractor" make me wonder if Thomas or Neil or even Mia is somehow involved in that. Only time, and more reading, will tell, though.

Showing through Telling

Chapters 7 and 8 see my prediction from yesterday's entry come true. After about 37 pages, the two have had sex, and chapter 9 ends off with the two hooking up again. And, as with the rest of his writing, Bakker writes these scenes sparsely.

In fact, what I've come to conclude is that Bakker's style is to show through telling. However, I don't think this works against him or makes him a less engaging writer to read.

Instead, I think showing through telling sets Bakker up for some very imagistic lines that can be incredibly effective, interesting, and perfectly placed.

Like when Sam leaves the morning after she and Tom have fucked, as she drives away Bakker writes that "The sound of her car had teeth." Up until that point we're bombarded with Tom trying to see how Sam works with his kids and how they work with them. In his own words, Tom tries to give Sam a sense of how he is in his natural habitat, and from his actions, thoughts, and ultimate last few words to Sam it seems like this goes awkwardly, and almost badly. And then we get that image after a lot of direct, telly writing.

Really, the only things that Bakker seems to dwell on - that is, on which he provides us with more than a few sentences strung into a runty paragraph - are his character's thoughts. Since this is a third person limited novel with - so far - just one viewpoint character, that means we spend a lot of time in Tom's head. Bakker spends a lot of words in there, and he walks us through the various neurological/psychological concepts that he wants to get across.

This presentation makes it a little bit like a pared down textbook narrated by a psychologist, but since most thrillers push some agenda or other on the reader, it's refreshing to see that this book's agenda is to challenge notions of consciousness and to get readers wondering about thought and the brain themselves.

More on the story next time.

On R. Scott Bakker's Style

Okay, so pretty deep into Neuropath things roll onward irretrievably. Thomas has just been asked by Sam to go in with her to question one of Neil's victims. All in the hopes of learning more about Neil's motive and method, of course.

After the first 20 pages of the book I was pretty much convinced that this was the same R. Scott Bakker that I had become intrigued and amazed by in the Judging Eye (a scientific fart joke notwithstanding). But, now that I'm another 100 pages into it, I can say that it definitely is that same Bakker. His style is minimalistic in that he really doesn't describe much of anything aside from the bare minimum. The make of a car, the colour of a house's siding. That's it.

However, I also find that he uses this minimalism to great use in his imagery - particularly things like his describing sunlight as light "glinting from a thousand windshields. His is a style that I think is closest to my own ideal style - sleek, minimalist, and striking.

Since act 1 has long since finished, I've already met the miscellaneous name-dropping of Neil's victims.

The latest two, a blonde girl and some sort of religious politician, are named as necessary, and both are noted as having previously been missing in the same breath. This bothers me for two reasons.

One: it's what every thriller, mystery, police procedural does. Agent x: "Oh my god, that's Senator Y, who's been missing since three days ago;" Agent w: "Yes. Yes, it is.".

Two: Bakker drops all sorts of tidbits about the near-future world in which his story is set. Yet he makes not one mention of either of these victims in passing. Still, from his brief and tidy sidebars we know that the world is in turmoil, wetware is on the rise, and terrorists burned a large portion of the southern US' forests, along with many other details that seem like they're from a proper dystopian future, while also being similar in tone to most modern news tickers.

This shortcoming notwithstanding, I'm interested in seeing what sort of twist awaits at the end of the book, and how long it takes Thomas and Sam to hook up. I'll likely learn about the latter before the former, but my theory about the twist is that Thomas has somehow engineered Neil's actions and all of his clinging to his kids and what not is just his method of insulating himself from the truth.

But such a twist is very predictable, especially since Bakker has underlined Thomas' struggle with the Argument (that all experience, emotion, and choice, is based on chemical impulses rather than 'will') and pointed out several times that though everything else in his life is currently in turmoil, his kids offer solace, solidity, and safety.

We'll see, I suppose. We'll see.

Stepping onto the Neuropath

Some 20 pages into R. Scott Bakker's Neuropath, I've already found his characteristic grit.

Of course, the nature of the story - a brutal killer who forces people to do whatever he wants them to via brain manipulation before offing them - lends itself to this grit.

Also on display is the same minimalistic quality found in Bakker's the Judging Eye. On my way through that tome what struck me most is that its prose was very pared down. Compared to G.R.R. Martin, Bakker's writing just has some of the fat cut away.

As a direct comparison of the two styles, Bakker's description tends more towards the internal, whereas Martin's focus is more on the external. It's been just 20 pages, but proportionately, there isn't nearly as much description of characters' clothes in Bakker as there is in Martin. It's a curious thing to notice, but I really do think that it's a major marker of Bakker's style. External details are sacrificed for the sake of internal ones.

As per the story so far, I'm intrigued by the premise, and all of the hype to be found in the blurbs all over the back, the front, and the inside. It sounds like a perception changing story, and I'm excited to read such a thing for myself.