by Ray Verola ‧ RELEASE DATE: N/A
A proficient story that addresses the human-robot quandary in an entertaining fashion.
A salesman at a robot-production corporation who knows too much may lose considerably more than his job in this sci-fi outing.
Taylor Morris is the most successful sales executive at RobotWorld, a manufacturer of industrial and personal robots. The company is prospering in the late 21st century, years after World War III devastated much of the world. While the former U.S. is primarily a wasteland, the survivors live and work in what’s called the Northeast Sector. By all appearances, Taylor is content: His pay is substantial, and the socially awkward man has a companion in Jennifer, a live-in, lifelike RW robot. But Taylor doesn’t shy away from voicing his strong opinions, such as his belief that Arthur Toback, the Northeast Sector’s supreme leader, is a fraud. When he expresses a dread that RW’s bots will adversely affect human employment and relationships, his supervisor, Sophia Ross, is irate and ultimately fires him. Being out of a job makes Taylor’s addiction to the drug Serenity an even larger burden, but his problems subsequently escalate. As there’s a good chance Taylor has seen something he wasn’t supposed to, Sophia decides that it would be easier if someone were to terminate him—permanently. Verola’s (Torpedo, 2012, etc.) solid thriller is set in a believable futuristic world. Technology, for one, is plausible, like personal transport vehicles’ autopilot feature, which is merely an option. The genre’s traditional fear of machines taking over is prevalent, but both humans and robots in this tale offer surprises. Some people aiding Sophia, for example, are doing so reluctantly, and not all of Taylor’s allies are trustworthy. Incidentally, Taylor has a “higher power of intuition,” a rare ability that has little impact within the narrative. A voice he dubs George provides clear-cut advice and insight only sporadically, and it doesn’t always put Taylor at ease. But supporting characters stand out, particularly the women: Sophia and Taylor’s executive assistant and friend, Roz Troward.
A proficient story that addresses the human-robot quandary in an entertaining fashion.Pub Date: N/A
ISBN: N/A
Page Count: 324
Publisher: Dog Ear Publisher
Review Posted Online: March 29, 2018
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
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by Alex Michaelides ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 5, 2019
Amateurish, with a twist savvy readers will see coming from a mile away.
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New York Times Bestseller
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A woman accused of shooting her husband six times in the face refuses to speak.
"Alicia Berenson was thirty-three years old when she killed her husband. They had been married for seven years. They were both artists—Alicia was a painter, and Gabriel was a well-known fashion photographer." Michaelides' debut is narrated in the voice of psychotherapist Theo Faber, who applies for a job at the institution where Alicia is incarcerated because he's fascinated with her case and believes he will be able to get her to talk. The narration of the increasingly unrealistic events that follow is interwoven with excerpts from Alicia's diary. Ah, yes, the old interwoven diary trick. When you read Alicia's diary you'll conclude the woman could well have been a novelist instead of a painter because it contains page after page of detailed dialogue, scenes, and conversations quite unlike those in any journal you've ever seen. " 'What's the matter?' 'I can't talk about it on the phone, I need to see you.' 'It's just—I'm not sure I can make it up to Cambridge at the minute.' 'I'll come to you. This afternoon. Okay?' Something in Paul's voice made me agree without thinking about it. He sounded desperate. 'Okay. Are you sure you can't tell me about it now?' 'I'll see you later.' Paul hung up." Wouldn't all this appear in a diary as "Paul wouldn't tell me what was wrong"? An even more improbable entry is the one that pins the tail on the killer. While much of the book is clumsy, contrived, and silly, it is while reading passages of the diary that one may actually find oneself laughing out loud.
Amateurish, with a twist savvy readers will see coming from a mile away.Pub Date: Feb. 5, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-250-30169-7
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Celadon Books
Review Posted Online: Nov. 3, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2018
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by Margaret Atwood ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 17, 1985
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.
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New York Times Bestseller
The time is the not-so-distant future, when the US's spiraling social freedoms have finally called down a reaction, an Iranian-style repressive "monotheocracy" calling itself the Republic of Gilead—a Bible-thumping, racist, capital-punishing, and misogynistic rule that would do away with pleasure altogether were it not for one thing: that the Gileadan women, pure and true (as opposed to all the nonbelieving women, those who've ever been adulterous or married more than once), are found rarely fertile.
Thus are drafted a whole class of "handmaids," whose function is to bear the children of the elite, to be fecund or else (else being certain death, sent out to be toxic-waste removers on outlying islands). The narrative frame for Atwood's dystopian vision is the hopeless private testimony of one of these surrogate mothers, Offred ("of" plus the name of her male protector). Lying cradled by the body of the barren wife, being meanwhile serviced by the husband, Offred's "ceremony" must be successful—if she does not want to join the ranks of the other disappeared (which include her mother, her husband—dead—and small daughter, all taken away during the years of revolt). One Of her only human conduits is a gradually developing affair with her master's chauffeur—something that's balanced more than offset, though, by the master's hypocritically un-Puritan use of her as a kind of B-girl at private parties held by the ruling men in a spirit of nostalgia and lust. This latter relationship, edging into real need (the master's), is very effectively done; it highlights the handmaid's (read Everywoman's) eternal exploitation, profane or sacred ("We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices"). Atwood, to her credit, creates a chillingly specific, imaginable night-mare. The book is short on characterization—this is Atwood, never a warm writer, at her steeliest—and long on cynicism—it's got none of the human credibility of a work such as Walker Percy's Love In The Ruins. But the scariness is visceral, a world that's like a dangerous and even fatal grid, an electrified fence.
Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1985
ISBN: 038549081X
Page Count: -
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1985
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