Come in, Mister Mortimore, I've been expecting you.
[Reviewer strokes imaginary fluffy white cat.]
What's that? Ah yes, my apologies for the stereotypical specimen of felis silvestris catus. It would have been a corn snake, but ours has just died. And I'm currently laid up with a fever. So I am not in the best of moods.
[Mortimore tries to speak, only to realise he has no face.]
Again, my apologies. I have no idea what you look or sound like, so I haven't bothered to imagine you properly. Minion! Fetch the prisoner a face mask.
[A brief delay, then the shadowy minion places a cardboard cutout of Patrick McGoohan's face over the author's lack-of-features.]
I didn't ask for a The Prisoner face mask, you imbecile! Still, it does seem... appropriate. For an author who transgresses as often as you do.
Oh yes, I know who you are. You are the one who cannot resist pushing at boundaries. Usually by seeing how much death, destruction and pain you can inflict on your characters, but also in other ways. You wrote the truly wonderful A Natural History of Fear, one of the strangest Big Finish audios ever and certainly the jewel in the crown of the Divergent Universe arc, and that alone would earn you a place in my personal hall of fame. I've not read all your other Who novels and short stories, but those I haven't I know by reputation; and you also wrote this.
Readers who hate spoilers should look away now. Isn't that right, Mr. Flopsy?
[The large white rabbit jumps down off the reviewer's lap and starts nibbling at Mortimore's toes. Assuming he has toes.]
My favourite episode of Red Dwarf is Back to Reality, which reveals early on that the characters' adventures are all part of a virtual reality game. This is what happens at the end of Campaign, where the Game of Me (which has been mentioned throughout) turns out to be the V.R. game they are playing. (While we're spoiling, I'll tell you that Ian wins. Nyer.) And although 'reset switches' are lame devices, what else can you do when you've destroyed the universe outside the Tardis and killed everyone inside? Many times?
The point is that it doesn't matter, because the novel isn't really about that; it's exploring paths not taken in Who, in the author's inimitable, unrestrained style.
ISN'T IT, MISTER MORTIMORE?!
[The white hamster scurries away at the sudden sound.]
You went so far this time that you scared off the BBC. Oh, maybe it was the shouting matches rather than the content, although it sounds as if there was a lot they wanted changed. But there were some things you wouldn't budge on. As a result you published it for charity instead, and then made it available online. Which is nice.
Within the Whoniverse, large parts of this form the earliest sequel to The Edge of Destruction, set entirely within T.A.R.D.I.S.; but this is married to events outside happening around the time of Farewell, Great Macedon - or at least an alternate version of same. Cliffanlola get the bulk of the focus, though it opens with Alexander himself. And, actually, closes with our heroes about to go off and meet the king for the first time. Which means that I've reviewed this in the wrong place. And that the Doctor can control the TARDIS. So within the novel even reality isn't, if you get my drift. It's like eXistenZ - how many layers down can you go until you drop out of the Whoniverse completely and into the mundane world of discarded character outlines and rejected BBC scripts - The Masters of Luxor; Farewell, Great Macedon; and, of course, Campaign itself? The snake bites its own tail.
Speaking of discarded characters, it's hard to comment on things like characterisation when they are changing every other page. Sometimes even the format changes, giving us John and Gillian in comic strip form, or words arranged like Carroll's The Mouse's Tale, or optical illusions turning the simplest of games, through repetition, into DNA (double helix, not Douglas Adams!) and then Breughel's tower of Babel. It's all part of the madness. But glorious madness.
Very well, I suppose you can go. Just pass that poodle back to me, will you? Ta.
Oh, and it's true about the fever, so if this review (if that is what it is) lacks coherence I do have an excuse; at the moment it seems like a good idea, given the nature of the book I'm reviewing. And I did cut out the bit about the gorilla. Except... well, I only wrote part of it while feverish, though I tried to stick to the plan I made while I was. Robert Heinlein had a stroke while writing The Number of the Beast, and people have claimed that they can pinpoint the place in the writing where it happened. Perhaps the same will be true here?
Unfortunately, it's also true what I said about the snake dying.
RIP Sunlight. You are already sorely missed.
Published:
Date: May 2000
ISBN:
Rating:
How can you rate something like this? I enjoyed bits of it, and admired other bits. It's pretty violent in places (though not gratuitously so), which is a bit of a turn-off for me; but on the other hand it's all about perceptions of reality, which is very much my thing. 10/10 for chutzpah, 0/10 for sanity? Whatever, it's well worth experiencing. Go get it and decide for yourself. And if you do love it, contribute to the Bristol Area Downs Syndrome Association. Details in the book.
Next Time:
It sounds like it should be set at the end of time, but it's not. The Doctor's going Roman for The Last Days.
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