Gods roaming the earth, interacting with humanity and generally being a nuisance has been a fantasy staple since Greek mythology. Annoying humans became their favorite sporting pastime. Giving the gods a physical form gave us something relatable, something to blame. Gods suddenly become responsible for all the good or ill that befalls someone. And we understand this, ascribing their actions as the cause of our misfortunes.
Your herd of cows died? Blame the god of animal husbandry. There's a drought. Blame the god of weather. There's a bite missing out of your Burrito Supreme. Smell the dog's breath first. Failing that, blame the god of Taco Bell for its cruel and wanton punishments.
For us, science has redefined ordinary causes. It's nonsensical for us to curse the god of lumber because we can't find the slab of wood we're looking for at Home Depot. But what would have happened if science in its infancy during the Renaissance had been forced to reconcile itself with the physical manifestations of gods. How does the scientific method stack up when you're trying to measure godhood? How do you measure the immeasurable?
In Felix Gilman's remarkable and wildly imaginative debut Thunderer, the Renaissance is re-imagined as a burgeoning scientific method must contend with measuring the immeasurable, in this case, the city of Ararat. Gods roam Ararat, a city so vast that its borders seem non-existent and so mysterious and ever-changing that the city itself appears divine. It's polytheism meets reality television. Real World: Ararat—Deity Edition.
Unlike the gods of yore though, Ararat's deities seemingly have no awareness of humanity. Gods don't interfere with people, but people attempt to interfere with the gods.
One day, a mystical entity known as the great Bird returns to Ararat, its arrival accurately predicted by the scientist Holbach. Holbach uses the Bird's mysterious presence as an opportunity to launch his airship, Thunderer. He envisions the airship as instrumental in his quest to attain knowledge about the city. The ship will be able to travel high above the city, providing the vantage point necessary for finally mapping the unmapped Ararat. Unfortunately others have a more sinister purpose in mind for the ship.
In another part of the city, the Bird's return has allowed young Jack to escape from the workhouse he's imprisoned in. Once free, Jack joins a gang of street urchins who steal in order to survive. Soon he discovers that his encounter with the Bird has left him with a special gift, and new purpose in his life.
Arjun arrives in Ararat on the day of the great Bird's return. He has traveled far to reach Ararat, across the Peaceful Sea from Gad. A trained choirman, Arjun left the Choristry in Gad to search for their missing god called the Voice. So where better to search for a missing god than a city brimming with gods. And like a man rummaging through a deity Lost and Found, Arjun searches Ararat for any trace of the Choristry's missing Voice.
Thunderer is richly imagined, detailed and incredibly nuanced. It's unpredictable and fiercely intelligent, tackling issues like the purview of knowledge and the limits of science and the corruption of both faith and science for personal gain. Gilman is an undeniable imaginative juggernaut. Ararat is astonishingly memorable and multifaceted, a living, breathing entity, a sinuous chameleon always squirming in the background. Grabbing hold of it is like grabbing water. The city is the novel's richest and most intriguing character, and also the most mysterious.
Every page of the book holds some new insight or direction, often left completely unexplored by Gilman. I found myself more intellectually engaged by Thunderer than emotionally charged. I felt the story more with my head than with my heart. The characters while intriguing felt sterile, like interesting specimens in a Petri dish. Only Jack overcame this flatness, his passion fiery and evident.
The majority of the novel is written from either the point-of-view of Jack or Arjun. Not surprisingly, I found Jack's narrative much more engaging. There were moments in which I was intrigued by Arjun's plotline, but these were quickly followed by times in which I completely lost interest. There's an oddness to Arjun that I found off-putting, leading to my inability to really get into the character's head. No matter how hard I tried, there was a point where Arjun remained foreign to me.
While Gilman packs tons of intriguing ideas into Thunderer, I would have liked a deeper treatment of them. This may be a rare case where there are too many aspects to the story, and less would have been more. I felt that Gilman could have written a novel that just concentrated on Jack or Arjun and possibly had a more engaging piece. Still that said Thunderer is an incredibly auspicious debut.
Last Word:
Beautifully written, Thunderer is like an espresso shot—one part imagination and one part smarts—filled with more clever ideas per page than most books have in total. Felix Gilman establishes himself as a rising talent.
Final Grade: 80 out of 100
Your herd of cows died? Blame the god of animal husbandry. There's a drought. Blame the god of weather. There's a bite missing out of your Burrito Supreme. Smell the dog's breath first. Failing that, blame the god of Taco Bell for its cruel and wanton punishments.
For us, science has redefined ordinary causes. It's nonsensical for us to curse the god of lumber because we can't find the slab of wood we're looking for at Home Depot. But what would have happened if science in its infancy during the Renaissance had been forced to reconcile itself with the physical manifestations of gods. How does the scientific method stack up when you're trying to measure godhood? How do you measure the immeasurable?
In Felix Gilman's remarkable and wildly imaginative debut Thunderer, the Renaissance is re-imagined as a burgeoning scientific method must contend with measuring the immeasurable, in this case, the city of Ararat. Gods roam Ararat, a city so vast that its borders seem non-existent and so mysterious and ever-changing that the city itself appears divine. It's polytheism meets reality television. Real World: Ararat—Deity Edition.
Unlike the gods of yore though, Ararat's deities seemingly have no awareness of humanity. Gods don't interfere with people, but people attempt to interfere with the gods.
One day, a mystical entity known as the great Bird returns to Ararat, its arrival accurately predicted by the scientist Holbach. Holbach uses the Bird's mysterious presence as an opportunity to launch his airship, Thunderer. He envisions the airship as instrumental in his quest to attain knowledge about the city. The ship will be able to travel high above the city, providing the vantage point necessary for finally mapping the unmapped Ararat. Unfortunately others have a more sinister purpose in mind for the ship.
In another part of the city, the Bird's return has allowed young Jack to escape from the workhouse he's imprisoned in. Once free, Jack joins a gang of street urchins who steal in order to survive. Soon he discovers that his encounter with the Bird has left him with a special gift, and new purpose in his life.
Arjun arrives in Ararat on the day of the great Bird's return. He has traveled far to reach Ararat, across the Peaceful Sea from Gad. A trained choirman, Arjun left the Choristry in Gad to search for their missing god called the Voice. So where better to search for a missing god than a city brimming with gods. And like a man rummaging through a deity Lost and Found, Arjun searches Ararat for any trace of the Choristry's missing Voice.
Thunderer is richly imagined, detailed and incredibly nuanced. It's unpredictable and fiercely intelligent, tackling issues like the purview of knowledge and the limits of science and the corruption of both faith and science for personal gain. Gilman is an undeniable imaginative juggernaut. Ararat is astonishingly memorable and multifaceted, a living, breathing entity, a sinuous chameleon always squirming in the background. Grabbing hold of it is like grabbing water. The city is the novel's richest and most intriguing character, and also the most mysterious.
Every page of the book holds some new insight or direction, often left completely unexplored by Gilman. I found myself more intellectually engaged by Thunderer than emotionally charged. I felt the story more with my head than with my heart. The characters while intriguing felt sterile, like interesting specimens in a Petri dish. Only Jack overcame this flatness, his passion fiery and evident.
The majority of the novel is written from either the point-of-view of Jack or Arjun. Not surprisingly, I found Jack's narrative much more engaging. There were moments in which I was intrigued by Arjun's plotline, but these were quickly followed by times in which I completely lost interest. There's an oddness to Arjun that I found off-putting, leading to my inability to really get into the character's head. No matter how hard I tried, there was a point where Arjun remained foreign to me.
While Gilman packs tons of intriguing ideas into Thunderer, I would have liked a deeper treatment of them. This may be a rare case where there are too many aspects to the story, and less would have been more. I felt that Gilman could have written a novel that just concentrated on Jack or Arjun and possibly had a more engaging piece. Still that said Thunderer is an incredibly auspicious debut.
Last Word:
Beautifully written, Thunderer is like an espresso shot—one part imagination and one part smarts—filled with more clever ideas per page than most books have in total. Felix Gilman establishes himself as a rising talent.
Final Grade: 80 out of 100
SHARE
