Dead To Me, by Anton Strout (Ace/Penguin 2008).Dead To Me has been billed as a "light-hearted" urban fantasy, and even as a parody of the genre, but I think the word that reviewers are searching for is: funny. The book is funny. But it's also quite good, and the sillier elements can distract readers from how fascinating and original many of Strout's concepts are.
The story focuses on Simon Canderous, a former-thief who now works for the Department of Extraordinary Affairs (I can't even tell you how jealous I am that Strout thought of this acronym before me). Simon has the power of psychometry, a very Victorian-sounding ability that allows him to psychically 'read' objects. In a genre filled with sexy telepaths, werewolves, vampires, and necromancers, the idea of someone who reads objects instead of people is refreshing. And the power itself has a lot of spinoff potential. Strout is careful to limit Canderous from the very first chapter, letting us know that accidentally touching your lover's watch or necklace in the middle of something hot-and-heavy is the quickest way to have your libido deflated. This is an interesting riff on Sookie Stackhouse, the psychic from Charlaine Harris's Southern Vampire novels, who eschews sex because she can't stand listening to people's thoughts before, during, and after. But the idea of a sensitive male ego getting pricked (sorry) by a woman's thoughts during sex, to me, is new and interesting territory within the genre.
When Simon and his mentor encounter a ghost, Irene, who can't seem to cross over, the three become embroiled in a mystery filled with psychotic bookcases, annoying paperwork, ectoplasm, and Intellivision. Much of the brilliance in Dead To Me comes from puns, one-offs, and funny details that you might not even notice during your first read. Simon is at his most convincing when he whines, whinges, and moans about being a 'hero.' I was pleasantly surprised by a male protagonist who wasn't suave, dark, or twisty. Simon reminds me of most of my ex-boyfriends: cute, a little clumsy, a bit clueless, but still, you kinda love him for being a putz. You cheer for him when he gets some action and roll your eyes when he's being...well, Simon.
The cons are minor and mostly structural. At times, Strout's jokes and puns tend to pile up on each other, distracting from the story. Simon's own attempts to be a noir hero are precisely what come off as unrealistic. I love the Ramones tee, but the jacket seemed a tad overdone. Similarly, why a retractable bat? Can't we find him a cooler weapon? And, instead of hearing about what a kickass thief he used to be, let's see some concrete examples. Hypoglycemia as an after-effect of psychometry still seems a bit minor, given the pros of the power, and if all Canderous has to do is pop a LifeSaver then it's not really a weakness at all. Projectile vomiting, debilitating migraines, or Muzak in your head--now that's a side-effect. It might be neat if, after touching something especially powerful, Simon's hands went numb or something (watching him try to drink coffee would be amusing).
I have high hopes for this series as a very cool riff on UF that doesn't take itself seriously. I think Strout could be a real contender for the position once held by Harry Harrison, Piers Anthony, and other fantasy/sf satirists who also know how to write good plot. Terry Pratchett is immortal, of course, so there's no budging him. But this is a great debut effort, and I look forward to seeing how Canderous develops as an everyguy hero in a genre filled with super-women and craft pack-leaders.
Buy it!
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