Ian McDonald

Stand-Alone Novels:

Desolation Road — (1988) Publisher: Nominated for the Arthur C. Clarke Award. It all began 30 years ago on Mars, with a greenperson. But by the time it all finished, the town of Desolation Road had experienced every conceivable abnormality from Adam Black's Wonderful Travelling Chataqua and Educational Stravaganza (complete with its very own captive angel) to the Astounding Tatterdemalion Air Bazaar. It's inhabitants ranged from Dr. Alimantando, the town's founder and resident genius, to the Babooshka, a barren grandmother who just wants her own child grown in a fruit jar; from Rajendra Das, mechanical hobo who has a mystical way with machines to the Gallacelli brothers, identical triplets who fell in love with and married the same woman.

Out on Blue Six — (1989)

King of Morning, Queen of Day — (1991) This story collection won the Philip K. Dick Award. A story collection. Publisher: The dangerous allure of the faerie lover manifests itself through three generations of women. The spirits that haunt Ireland's Bridestone Wood first claim Emily Desmond in the early 1900s; in the 1930s, working girl Jessica Caldwell follows the man of her dreams into a dreamlike world; and in the near future, writer Enye MacColl battles the invisible forces of faerie. McDonald's power as a storyteller lies in his stylistic versatility and intensity of language as well as in his capacity to create vivid and memorable characters.

King of Morning, Queen of Day: A fairy tale of unforgettable power

I knew, just by reading the back cover blurb, that this book was right up my alley. Women with mystical powers? Check. Faeries? Check. Ireland? Check. In fact, I think the only reason I didn't discover this book earlier is that it was published in 1991, and I only started reading fantasy sometime in the late nineties.

The story begins with Emily, a bratty but endearing girl of fifteen, poised on the edge of adulthood in the early 20th century. Emily knows she is special — set apart — and when she sees the faeries in the wood by her family's home, she knows she will never be satisfied with ordinary life. Emily makes a colossal mess of things, as bratty fifteen-year-olds will do, and sets in motion events that will affect generations to come.

What follows is a fairy tale, but not precisely a tale of faeries; it's more of an exploration of the nature of reality and of myth, as seen through the eyes of Emily and two other women: Jessica, a glib-tongued teenager of the 1930s whose tall tales have an uncanny way of coming true; and Enye, a woman of the late 1980s, torn between everyday life and a battle with supernatural forces from the world beyond.

This is a stunning story and one that I'll probably reread over and over again. It doesn't suffer one bit from the ailment that afflicts so many multigenerational novels — the tendency for one or more of the intertwined stories to lack luster. All three of the women, and their lives and times, are vivid and passionate. And I must say, there are few male authors who can write such nuanced and three-dimensional female characters. Get your hands on a used copy of this. I wish they'd reprint it...
—Kelly Lasiter

The Broken Land — (1992) Publisher: In the distant future, the peace between two rival religions in a tranquil, self-sufficient city is shattered by revelations that rebel soldiers are hiding in the confines of the city.

Kling Klang Klatch — (1992) With David Lyttleton. Publisher: At 5:00 a.m. on the greasy streets of a city that never sleeps, the dolls are on the hard stuff and the transport's about to strike again. On the news it's all bombs and killing machines the size of tenement blocks. The only consolation for a weary middle-aged cop on his way home is a little illegal sugar and some sweet tenor sax. But that was before they found the body that looked like somebody had unzipped it then scooped out all its insides. And the three words scrawled on an alley wall. Three red words, so fresh they were still dripping. KLING KLANG KLATCH. It's enough to knock out anyone's stuffing. And in Toyland, that's no joke. KLING KLANG KLATCH is set in a superficially glittering world that, if not exactly human, reflects humanity's desires, corruption, and racism at a fundamental level. Ian McDonald's (Desolation Road) blackly bizarre wit and David Lyttleton's (Punch) razor-sharp eye for detail have created a unique fantasy with a delicious streak of dark humor.

Terminal Cafe — (1994) Publisher: It is a few decades after a revolutionary technology has given humans the ability to resurrect the dead. The ever-increasing population of the risen dead is segregated into areas called necrovilles. Here they have created a wild culture, untouched by the restrictions of the law — except that the dead cannot stray into the realm of the living, nor the living into the teeming necrovilles, after nightfall. It is November 1, the Day of the Dead. Virtual artist Santiago Columbar, creator of drugs and 'ware that melt and reconfigure reality for his many disciples, has grown bored with the realities at his command. There is one reality he has yet to try, the culmination of his life as an artist: He will venture into the forbidden streets of the Saint John dead town, and there walk willingly into the open arms of death. At Santiago's invitation, four of his friends will meet in Saint John to record his death and resurrection. On their way to witness Santiago's transformation, as the necroville erupts into the first volley of a revolution against the living, each will face danger and adventure in the wild streets of the dead... and find that life has changed forever.

Scissors Cut Paper Wrap Stone — (1994) Publisher: The creator of computer-generated images that have the power to heal, erase memories, bring ecstasy, and kill savagely, graphic arts student Ethan Ring must brave treacherous terrain to escape those who would use his invention for evil.

Necroville — (1994) Publisher: It's November the second, 2063 — the Day of the Dead. Down in Necroville, the dead are planning to party — and everyone's invited. For in the 21st century, nanotechnology has revolutionized the laws of birth, death and entropy. The resurrected dead account for almost one third of the world population — and the backbone of its workforce. They have their own culture, their own mores — and their own ghettos, the Necrovilles. And tonight is their night. Down into Necroville go five young people in fulfilment of a pact, each one knowing, or unknowing, in search of something. As their paths entwine, and they find themselves drawn ever deeper into the mysteries of the post-lifestyle, each one will find him or herself irrevocably changed.

Evolution's Shore — (1995) Publisher: It began in the year 2002 with strange activities on one of Saturn's moons. Then came the meteor strike on Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa, followed by an alien infestation by a strange vegetative life-form known locally as the Chaga. For Gaby McAslan and her SkyNet news team, this is the story of a lifetime — and a golden chance at fame. As the Dark Continent becomes a frenzied backdrop of apocalyptic anticipation, Gaby fights to be the first to get to the truth behind the Chaga, only to come up against a wall of official secrecy. Suddenly rumors are spreading as fast as the Chaga: of people disappearing into the alien growth or being herded by U.N. troops into restricted "research" camps. Soon it becomes clear that the real story is bigger than Gaby could every imagine — a story that must be told even if it means betraying the man she loves. Is the Chaga an invasion or a gift? Does it mean destruction or evolution? Does it spell the final chapter for humanity... or just the beginning of the most amazing story of all?

Sacrifice of Fools — (1996) Publisher: When a prominent Shian family is brutally murdered, human and alien cultures find themselves on a collision course, with only Andy Gillespie, ex-con and aspirant to the mysteries of the Shian law, standing between them.

Kirinya — (1998) Publisher: The end of the universe happened at around ten o'clock at night on 22 December 2032. It's just that humanity hasn't realized it yet. And the Chaga, the strange flora deposited from the stars, is still busy terraforming the tropics into someone else's terra. Gaby McAslan was once a hungry news reporter who compromised her relationship with UNECTA researcher Dr. Shepard for the sake of her story, but Gaby is no longer a journalist and she doesn't want to be a full-time mother, even though her child Serena is her last link with Shepard. Gaby's fire has gone out; she's gone soft. But the massive political and military upheavals that are rocking the world are about to drag her back into the action.

Tendeleo's Story — (2000) Publisher: The World of fourteen year-old Tendeleo Bi is small, safe, stable: school, farm her father's church, the village of Gichichi. Then one night, the Chaga comes, and everything is different. Advancing across the plains of East Africa at ten metres every day, this alien infestation transforms terrestrial ife into something strange, perilous, wonderful, and nothing can stop it. Her village destroyed, Tendeleo becomes a refugee, with one need that drives her on: a place she can call home. Trapped between the relentless march of the Chaga, the UN and Nairobi Street gangs, her story moves across a southern hemesphere being terraformed into someone else's terra and byond: to a love that transcends continents, worlds, and a humanity on the edge of a staggering evolutionary leap, and that, like the Chaga, will transfirgure everything it touches.

Ares Express — (2001) Publisher: A Mars of the imagination, like no other, in a colourful, witty SF novel; Taking place in the kaleidoscopic future of Ian McDonald's Desolation Road, Ares Express is set on a terraformed Mars where fusion-powered locomotives run along the network of rails that is the planet's circulatory system and artificial intelligences reconfigure reality billions of times each second. One young woman, Sweetness Octave Glorious-Honeybun Asiim 12th, becomes the person upon whom the future — or futures — of Mars depends. Big, picaresque, funny; taking the Mars of Ray Bradbury and the more recent, terraformed Marses of authors such as Kim Stanley Robinson and Greg Bear, Ares Express is a wild and woolly magic-realist SF novel, featuring lots of bizarre philosophies, strange, mind-stretching ideas and trains as big as city blocks.

River of Gods — (2004) Publisher: As Mother India approaches her centenary, nine people are going about their business — a gangster, a cop, his wife, a politician, a stand-up comic, a set designer, a journalist, a scientist, and a dropout. And so is Aj —the waif, the mind reader, the prophet — when she one day finds a man who wants to stay hidden. In the next few weeks, they will all be swept together to decide the fate of the nation. River of Gods teems with the life of a country choked with peoples and cultures — one and a half billion people, twelve semi-independent nations, nine million gods. Ian McDonald has written the great Indian novel of the new millennium, in which a war is fought, a love betrayed, a message from a different world decoded, as the great river Ganges flows on.

River of Gods

Ian McDonald’s River of Gods is a complex, multi-threaded tale that takes place in near-future India which has been split into somewhat warring states. There is a water shortage as the monsoon hasn’t come in three years, a rigid caste system is in place, and political and economic strife is tearing cities apart at the seams. While the rich get richer and designer babies are common among the elite, there is a gross gender imbalance where men outnumber women by two thirds. It’s a complex, foreign, and unique world.

McDonald’s writing at times reminded me of a mixture of K.J. Parker’s dry, cynical humor and a dash of Peter F. Hamilton’s science fiction. McDonald is incredibly descriptive, and he seems to purposefully take a “no holds barred” stance with many of his scenes. He equally describes the good, bad and ugly sides of his world in shocking detail. This approach conveys that the situations McDonald discusses are multifaceted and it emphasizes the influence of culture and tradition.

River of Gods is full of everything. McDonald uses many aspects of Indian culture such as the Ganges River (i.e. the river of gods), India’s caste system, and arranged marriages. He even creates a third gender — nutes — out of India’s well-known and plentiful castrated male population. An asteroid that is older than the solar system and a mysterious extra terrestrial message add an extra layer to the story. McDonald balances commonly known cultural signs with new and unique science fiction gestures, making River of Gods an easy and interesting read. 

Each chapter of River of Gods focuses on one to three characters. I can't decide which kept me most interested — these characters, or the plot. Some of the characters are absolutely despicable, but each has such engaging dramas and it wasn’t until the end that I realized how they all fit into the plot as a whole. There were a few characters I wouldn’t mind McDonald dedicating entire novels to.

Potential readers should be warned that there is plenty of sex, language, and violence in River of Gods. Also, be aware that there is a glossary in the back of the book which will help considerably with your understanding of the culture and plot.

River of Gods is profound as it toys with holiness and divinity from numerous perspectives — from the perspective of the Krishna Cop's “god gun” to that of the aeais who have overtaken the entertainment industry to the point where no one seems to notice they are virtual constructs rather than real people. Throughout the book, the question of “who creates the creator” is subtly asked, and River of Gods invites readers to find their own meaning. —Sarah Chorn    
FanLit thanks Sarah Chorn from Bookworm Blues for contributing this guest review.

Brasyl — (2007) Publisher: Think Bladerunner in the tropics... Be seduced, amazed, and shocked by one of the world's greatest and strangest nations. Past, present, and future Brazil, with all its color, passion, and shifting realities, come together in a novel that is part SF, part history, part mystery, and entirely enthralling. Three separate stories follow three main characters: Edson is a self-made talent impressario one step up from the slums in a near future São Paulo of astonishing riches and poverty. A chance encounter draws Edson into the dangerous world of illegal quantum computing, but where can you run in a total surveillance society where every move, face, and centavo is constantly tracked? Marcelina is an ambitious Rio TV producer looking for that big reality TV hit to make her name. When her hot idea leads her on the track of a disgraced World Cup soccer goalkeeper, she becomes enmeshed in an ancient conspiracy that threatens not just her life, but her very soul. Father Luis is a Jesuit missionary sent into the maelstrom of 18th-century Brazil to locate and punish a rogue priest who has strayed beyond the articles of his faith and set up a vast empire in the hinterland. In the company of a French geographer and spy, what he finds in the backwaters of the Amazon tries both his faith and the nature of reality itself to the breaking point. Three characters, three stories, three Brazils, all linked together across time, space, and reality in a hugely ambitious story that will challenge the way you think about everything.

Cyberabad Days — (2008) Publisher: Extraordinary new fiction set in the future India of River of Gods. Ian McDonald's River of Gods called a "masterpiece" by Asimov's Science Fiction and praised by the Washington Post as a —"major achievement from a writer who is becoming one of the best SF novelists of our time" — painted a vivid picture of a near future India, 100 years after independence. It revolutionized SF for a new generation by taking a perspective that was not European or American. Nominated for the Hugo Award and the Arthur C. Clarke Award, and winning the BSFA Award, the rich world of this novel has inspired McDonald to revisit its milieu in a series of short stories, all set in the world of River of GodsCyberabad Days is a triumphant return to the India of 2047, a new, muscular superpower of one and a half billion people in an age of artificial intelligences, climate-change induced drought, water-wars, strange new genders, genetically improved children that age at half the rate of baseline humanity, and a population where males outnumber females four to one. India herself has fractured into a dozen states from Kerala to the headwaters of the Ganges in the Himalayas. Cyberabad Days is a collection of sevenstories, one Hugo nominee and one Hugo winner among them, as well as a thirty-one-thousand word original novella.

Cyberabad Days

Cyberabad Days is a fully realized vision of a near-future India — indeed, of a near-future world in which India is a major player, even more so than today. Ian McDonald’s prose sparkles, the plots of the stories are uniformly tight, but it is the imagination, the picture of the future, that really works here. If you want that “sense of wonder” that science fiction is most famous for, this is the place to find it.

Cyberabad Days is set in the same universe as McDonald’s River of Gods, a highly praised novel that won the British Science Fiction Award in 2005, and received nominations for the Hugo and Arthur C. Clarke Awards. In the seven stories of Cyberabad Days, linked by setting and technology but not by characters, McDonald imagines a mature India split asunder by politics and the ubiquity of artificial intelligence, but still a cluster of countries that constitutes a major world power. These are countries of immense contradiction, where the rich are richer than ever and the poor are completely left behind as technology changes, even completely transforms, those who can afford access to it.

The stories are arranged so as to gently introduce the reader to this near-future world. “Sanjeev and Robotwallah” begins the book with a tale of warriors who are really young men operating remote robots — and how quickly they become obsolete in a world changing at an incredibly rapid pace. Traditional warfare is also the theme of “Kyle Meets the River,” but it tells the story of how Western ideas are so alien to India that they become nonsensical. East and West cannot meet in this story; mingling is actually dangerous, or so the privileged members of the West believe.

The growing use and presence of aeais (we’d write it as AIs, meaning “artificial intelligences”) and other highly advanced technologies truly begins to come to the fore in “The Dust Assassin.” This tale, highly reminiscent of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” is about one family’s revenge on another, which all but destroyed it. The revenge theme also reminds one of the Chinese proverb, “If you seek revenge, dig two graves.” No one truly survives this sad and bloody story.

The consequences of the use of abortion to choose the sex of one’s child are played out in “An Eligible Boy.” By the time of this story, that is, the middle of the twenty-first century, men hugely outnumber women in the middle class:

Economists teach India’s demographic crisis as an elegant example of market failure. Its seed germinated in the last century, before India became Tiger of Tiger economies, before political jealousies and rivalries split her into twelve competing states. A lovely boy, was how it began. A fine, strong, handsome, educated, successful son, to marry and raise children and to look after us when we are old. Every mother’s dream, every father’s pride. Multiply by the three hundred million of India’s emergent class. Divide by the ability to determine sex in the womb. Add selective abortion. Run twenty-five years down the x-axis, factoring in refined, twenty-first-century techniques such as cheap, powerful pharma patches that ensure lovely boys will be conceived and you arrive at great Awadh, its ancient capital Delhi of twenty million, and a middle class with four times as many males as females. Market failure. Individual pursuit of self-interest damages larger society. Elegant to economists; to fine, strong, handsome, educated, successful young men like Jasbir caught in a wife-drought, catastrophic.

The competition to catch a wife is enormous, which means that men must do every single thing they possibly can to make themselves desirable, from superficial ploys like radical dentistry to whiten the teeth to more sophisticated plots like using hidden aeais from moment to moment to suggest conversational gambits. And perhaps, when all else fails, there is another option to taking a female as a wife.

One of my favorite stories in this collection is “The Little Goddess,” about a girl who is appointed as — in religious thought, literally becomes — the incarnation of a goddess as a very young child, chosen by surviving a gauntlet of horrors we in the West would never consider deliberately exposing a child to. The rules for her reign are that she no longer has a family, but is attended by two servants, called Kumarimas. She is confined to her palace, and leaves only six times a year, when she is carried in a palanquin; she cannot touch the earth, for if she does so, she will cease to be divine. And she cannot shed blood, not from a scrape or scratch, certainly not from menstruation. The minute she bleeds a single drop, the devi leaves her and she becomes merely human once again and is to be returned to her family.

All is well for many years — really, until the hormones of a typical young woman start to kick in, despite drugs taken to delay her maturation. And even then it is not her physical body but her mental and emotional development that lead to her downfall, and she is once again human. But of what use in the world is a former goddess? She is a novelty. Untrained to take up any of the tasks of a woman in India, she cannot find a husband even in a woman-starved world. At least, that is, until she is purchased by a Brahmin, a term that we find has an entirely different meaning in this brave new world than it does in ours. And her solution to this problem is even more dramatic. There is not a single false step in this story, which is so rich in both culture and technology that, once read, it cannot be forgotten.

“The Djinn’s Wife” is the tale of a woman who marries an aeai, and precisely how that works. More, though, it tells us how certain countries are coming to distrust aeais, even to outlaw them, and gives us the political reasons for these actions.

The education in realpolitik continues in “Vishnu at the Cat Circus,” which was nominated for both a Hugo and a Nebula. In this story, one of the Brahmins grows up, with all of the talents built into him at their greatest. What does such a man do? What does he become? Where does he find his equals? What kind of progeny will he produce? There is so very much in this story, from sexual politics to the effects of global warming to psychology to technology to mathematics. Reading it is like watching a fireworks display, with something new and wonderful to think of — with something terrible and dangerous to be afraid of — in virtually every paragraph.

By the time you finish Cyberabad Days, you will feel that you’ve learned something about the real India. You haven’t, not really, because this India is not the India of our world. It could be, though; it very well might be on the path to becoming the powerhouse it is in this collection. This is science fiction at its very best, challenging intellectually yet stylistically well-executed. These stories make you think, imagine and wonder even as they entertain. This collection is not to be missed. —Terry Weyna

The Dervish House — (2010) Publisher: It begins with an explosion. Another day, another bus bomb. Everyone it seems is after a piece of Turkey. But the shockwaves from this random act of 21st century pandemic terrorism will ripple further and resonate louder than just Enginsoy Square. Welcome to the world of The Dervish House; the great, ancient, paradoxical city of Istanbul, divided like a human brain, in the great, ancient, equally paradoxical nation of Turkey. The year is 2027 and Turkey is about to celebrate the fifth anniversary of its accession to the European Union; a Europe that now runs from the Arran Islands to Ararat. Population pushing one hundred million, Istanbul swollen to fifteen million; Turkey is the largest, most populous and most diverse nation in the EU, but also one of the poorest and most socially divided. It's a boom economy, the sweatshop of Europe, the bazaar of central Asia, the key to the immense gas wealth of Russia and Central Asia. Gas is power. But it's power at a price, and that price is emissions permits. This is the age of carbon consciousness: every individual in the EU has a card stipulating individual carbon allowance that must be produced at every CO2 generating transaction. For those who can master the game, who can make the trades between gas price and carbon trading permits, who can play the power factions against each other, there are fortunes to be made. The old Byzantine politics are back. They never went away. The ancient power struggled between Sunni and Shia threatens like a storm: Ankara has watched the Middle East emerge from twenty-five years of sectarian conflict. So far it has stayed aloof. A populist Prime Minister has called a referendum on EU membership. Tensions run high. The army watches, hand on holster. And a Galatasary Champions' League football game against Arsenal stokes passions even higher. The Dervish House is seven days, six characters, three interconnected story strands, one central common core — the eponymous dervish house, a character in itself — that pins all these players together in a weave of intrigue, conflict, drama and a ticking clock of a thriller.

The Dervish House

Necdet, a troubled young man, is witness to what looks like a botched suicide bombing on a crowded city tram; afterwards, he starts seeing djinn and other supernatural creatures. Can, a nine year old boy with an amazing robotic toy — and a heart condition that confines him to a silent world — accidentally becomes involved in the intrigue. Ayse, a gallery owner, is contracted to find a mysterious and elusive relic, while her boyfriend Adnan, a successful trader, works on his own scheme to become rich. A retired Greek economist, Georgios, is recruited into a secret government think tank, and Leyla, a young social climber, tries to get involved with a promising nanotech startup.

These six narratives all take place in Istanbul, less than 20 years into the future. The city, historically a crossroads and now also the capital of the newest EU member nation, is where East meets West, old meets new, Christianity meets Islam, and Europe and Asia meet across the Bosphorus river that dissects the ancient city. Likewise, the lives of these six strangers will meet and interconnect in The Dervish House, a gorgeous new SF novel by Ian McDonald.

Just like in The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi, that other excellent near-future SF novel set in a capital city where ancient cultural traditions mix with a strong modern and western influence, the various point-of-view characters tell a complex, multi-faceted story, but they also create a vivid impression of life in a bustling, endlessly fascinating metropolis, seen from several equally effective angles. However, don’t draw the comparison between those two novels too far: The Dervish House isn’t without some darker moments, but it’s considerably less grim than The Windup Girl, and Ian McDonald is a much more experienced writer, resulting in a more accomplished novel. Readers who liked The Windup Girl will probably love The Dervish House, but the reverse isn’t necessarily true, even though they’re both excellent and memorable novels.

The Dervish House is initially a bit confusing, as the six separate narratives are each introduced in rapid succession, but Ian McDonald has enough talent to help you settle into the novel quickly. After a few sub-chapters, you’ll start recognizing characters, and even before that point, you can just enjoy the gorgeous prose and the loving look at Istanbul. Luckily, the author doesn’t overdo the exotic, evoking the city’s atmosphere with a few details here and there, letting much of it come across naturally as the story progresses. Leyla hectically trying to get across the city to a job interview, Georgios gossiping in a coffee house with his ancient Greek friends, Adnan and his colleagues obsessing over an upcoming soccer match: it’s hard not to feel as if you’ve actually visited Istanbul after reading The Dervish House.

Even though there are connections between the six narratives, especially towards the end of the novel, it may occasionally feel as if you’re reading six novellas that just happen to be set in the same city. Luckily, they’re six really, really good novellas. Even though you may like some of the story lines more than others, as often happens in novels with multiple p.o.v.’s, don’t skim over any of them, because you’ll find that they all have strong, multi-dimensional main characters and solid plot arcs. By the end, when the stories weave together towards the novel’s climax, I felt as I’d read the literary equivalent of Robert Altman’s Short Cuts, a movie that combines several Raymond Carver short stories into one big, impressive, bustling movie.

In the end, spending some time with these six characters in the fascinating city of Istanbul was pure enjoyment. Look for The Dervish House on the shortlists of the major SF&F awards next year. Highly recommended. —Stefan Raets

The Dervish House

Set in the near future, Ian McDonald’s The Dervish House explores the rise of nanotechnology — the next great technological revolution — in Istanbul. McDonald’s story has six protagonists whose stories are held together by the titular Dervish House, which is located in Adem Dede Square, a backstreet in the Queen of Cities.

A terrorist bombing on a public tram sets off McDonald’s plot. A woman has killed herself, but, unusually, there are no other casualties. Instead, one survivor, Necdet, discovers that he is suddenly able to see djinn. Leyla misses her job interview because of the suicide bomber, but her family sets her up with a nanotech startup. Retired professor of economics Georgios Ferentinou’s terror market is up 20 points, and the government calls to offer him a job with a new think tank. The bombing does not greatly affect the markets that the trader Adnan is manipulating to make his fortune, nor does it disrupt his wife Ayşe’s buying and selling of religious antiquities. Nine-year-old Can Durukan, who has Long QT syndrome, does not witness the bombing, but he sends his BitBot into the city streets to see what happened.

Can’s story is often the most charming part of The Dervish House. Can imagines himself as a heroic “Boy Detective,” and his BitBot — which can transform from snake to rat to monkey to bird — recalls the freedom offered by familiars like Lyra’s Pantalaimon from Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass. Can’s age, his heart condition, and his protective parents make him the least independent character in this novel. However, his BitBot allows him access to more adventure than any of the adults, all of whom are constrained by the realities of a world where workers need to inhale nano shots to improve their focus so that they can remain professionally competitive.

In many ways, The Dervish House feels less like a contemporary work of SFF than a Golden Age science fiction novel. Today’s SFF is often full of warnings about the future problems our technology enables, and, yes, the technology that McDonald describes is quite dangerous. For example, nano that improves our focus can also be used to erase our memories, or even to alter our beliefs. However, McDonald allows more than enough room to make the future seem, if not wonderful, at least wondrous. And I found it interesting that he chose to set this story at a time when nano was on the cusp of fundamentally changing the world, leaving his visionary character Aso to speculate about what the world might be like after the nanotech revolution is complete.

The treatment of technology is somewhat unusual, but the novel’s reliance on many perspectives feels familiar. McDonald’s decision to tell this story from the point of view of six characters that only happen to live near each other is a bold one. It allows him to really open up this future Istanbul, and his cast gives him access to the government, the academy, the market, robotics, art, and religion. McDonald is an author that likes to stop and look through every window in his future world, suggesting that he, like Georgios, takes a great deal of pleasure from the ingenuity of ideas. There are many moments to admire, but one of my favorites is Selma Özgün’s profession. Selma is a “psychogeographer” that has mapped the many layers of Istanbul through history. She looks for trends, such as why one side of a street has tended to be disastrous for business while the other has tended to be profitable.

Because McDonald’s story contains so many perspectives, I found that The Dervish House often had to rely on the premise, rather than the plot or even the characters, to keep my interest. There is very little time for complications and setbacks, and our characters generally move from one successful venture to another. It’s an approach that does little to enhance suspense. For example, when Can decides to truly live out his “Boy Detective” fantasy and leaves his home, his greatest obstacle is a group of old men that are curious about his robot. Will he be able to come up with an explanation that will satisfy their curiosity, or will they ask him to go home?

The future that McDonald envisions is indeed compelling. Though I found the plot too convenient, there is a great deal here that warrants acclaim. I would encourage hesitant readers to pick up a copy of The Dervish House. —Ryan Skardal