Not only am I meant to be reading The Reality Dysfunction, but I’m also, at this moment, supposed to be finishing my first draft of my thesis, due, in fact, later today. Oh well. I’ll get to both of them in due course.
As for The Teleportation Accident… I don’t really know where to begin. It sort of defies review. It certainly defies review if the reviewer wants anyone to read it afterwards. There’s nothing I can say to do it justice, especially not if I don’t want to spoil the plot. I’m not sure, even if I did try, that there’s anything I can say to make it make sense… even though it makes perfect sense in itself. It’s also not really very like anything, so I can’t compare. I think the best I can say is that if Vellum grew up and started making sense, and set the first part of its story in pre-War Berlin, and that doesn’t come anywhere close.
So, in a pathetically short review, I shall simply say that it is objectively excellent (as opposed to the fact that I like it, which would probably suggest that it’s terrible, and it really really isn’t terrible at all), beautifully written, thoroughly confusing and altogether entirely worth reading. The author is obviously and constantly aware of what he’s doing and while this sometimes leads to terrible literature, here it works, and makes the book intensely satisfying to finish. It feels like a book that would benefit from a second read, so I can see all the things I missed the first time round. And possibly a third read too. It definitely merits becoming a book I irritatingly pester people into reading (thus again being in some ways like Vellum). It doesn’t really feel like a science fiction novel, I have to say. It feels like proper literature, maybe? I don’t know what modern proper literature looks like, to be honest. But part of what kept me very keen on it is the fact that I couldn’t really tell what it was, all the way through. Pleasingly mysterious.
Thus ends my incompetent attempt. I may try again later, since this is blatantly inadequate.