Review by Frank Plowright
Benjamin J. Carp was a prolific science-fiction author of some renown, not least in his own head, and then one day he died. Yet Carp wakes up in a motel room after decades have passed. Contrary, combustible and convinced of his own importance, Carp is taken on a journey of self-discovery accompanied by Marcus Dingle as his guide to the 21st century.
Let’s hope Carp’s overbearing personality isn’t an extension of writer Ben H. Winters, but it’s a clever narrative device ensuring Carp is so self-obsessed there’s no need to stop and gawp at the wonders of progress during his death enabling matters to move onward. Referring to his own works, Carp’s convinced he’s been transported to the future via unknown technology to circumvent some pending disaster, except his own works would indicate he’s actually some form of robot.
With the twin peaks of Carp’s character and an intriguing mystery Benjamin is already halfway to creative success, and that’s assured by the confident art of Leomacs. Much is very funny, but there’s no overselling the jokes, and Leomacs puts effort into the people and their surroundings while also selling the more unusual events.
Constantly throwing in conceptual SF theories, Winters brings matters to a clever crisis point. Carp is either utterly delusional or completely beyond redemption, yet Dingle’s ordinary life has a purpose to him. He’s kindly, and not one for taking risks, yet the future of humanity could rest on what he does when confronted with an appalling decision.
Figuring stuff out alongside Carp is greatly enjoyable way of passing the time. Imagination rules, intelligence is compulsory and the fun is had.
