Blood Music
Ratings73
Average rating3.9
So there's this guy Vergil. He's nerdy, overweight and unhealthy, and he hacked his university's data system to add in credentials he never earned so he could get a job in a bio lab doing research work. Do we like him? Probably not but Greg Bear writes him in such a way that we start out on his side.
The bio lab finds that he's been doing private stuff after hours. He's experimenting with encoding bio information and DNA onto microchips, wanting to create intelligent nanobots he can inject into people to cure diseases etc. It's not the normal approach to the mad scientist with dangerous intentions that we see, but Bear sneaks him in under our radar.
His boss decides he's got to go - today. But Vergil needs more time in the lab to complete his current experiments because he's getting somewhere. He needs to get his samples past the security guys and out of the lab. He decides to inject them into himself, then find another job in another lab where he can extract them and continue his work.
Does his plan work? Partly. The cells he's manufactured start multiplying in his bloodstream and they kick his system into a more healthy state. His physical condition improves. His eyesight improves. He becomes a fantastic lover. Everything is looking great for him. But he can't get another lab job and he can't control the increase of the 'wonder cells' in his body.
As the novel progresses the cells become a contagion and spread to other people. They cause changes that are far beyond what Vergil imagined. And like everything that a mad scientist in a SF book causes, things accelerate to the unbearable and point to the destruction of humankind.
What stands out in this book is the seamless blend of hard science with the human element, intertwined with a philosophical exploration of what it means to be human and the ethical quandaries that can arise from scientific progress. This mix allows us to connect with the characters on a human level while contemplating the profound scientific ideas at play.
The further I went through the book, the weirder the story became - the story's climax is a thrilling and mind-bending experience, where the consequences of the noocytes' evolution come to the forefront in a way that challenges understanding of reality and existence.
I really liked this book, the story really grips your curiosity, and the characters are believable and well developed. My only issue was with the last quarter of the book, which is really, really strange compared to the rest - I'm not sure if this is actually a bad thing, but with all biology and genetics' scientific terms and explanations, discussions with noocytes, and abrupt introduction to the Information mechanics, it became a bit hard to follow. I've found the ending to be too abstract and lacking in a definitive resolution, but it was an interesting experience and definitely thought provoking.
Nauseating to read because 2020, but mind-blowing and gripping. Took so many wild turns, and in terms of style felt like it could have been written yesterday.
Oh man. That was fun. Gory, messy, ridiculous fun.
The story is that usual sub-sub-genre of the “mad scientist” trope, where the mad scientist's mad experiment goes terribly wrong (or right? depends on your perspective, I guess) and takes down most of everything else with him. It combines that rarest of emotional harmonies: horrifying/disgusting, with hilarious. The zany grotesque, if you will. Think David Cronenberg, or that wonderful, underrated jewel, Slither. It's gross-out, and it's funny, and it's mostly beautiful pulp (pun intended?!). I also think it's a bit anti-science/anti-tech, cuz, you know, all hell breaks loose in Silicon Valley, and what sort of message is Mr. Bear trying to send the kids? Eh?
Much of the book is a post-apocalyptic disaster movie, which is also fun, but - honestly - the premise promises more than it delivers. One day, Silicon Valley-type Vergil Ullam (who I picture as Danny Huston - also underrated!) is confronted by his genetic engineering firm employers over the creepy “smart” viruses he's creating down in the corporate lab. He promises to flush them down the toilet, but first saves a few... IN HIS VEINS, MWA HA. And ttthhhence begins the glorious orchestrations of the, ahem, BLOOD MUSIC. i.e. The smart viruses start to take shit over, and much fun is had by all (sort of - well, mostly by the virus). The rest is a post-apocalyptic disaster movie.
All that said, I was surprised by how sloppy much of the book is, with weird typos (blame Amazon/publisher?), weird dangling plot threads (whatever happened to the twins and Ullam's mom in LA?), lazy and jarring scene changes/POV shifts, and - that most deadly of spec fic failings - a complete inability to see beyond a white male perspective.
YO, IMMA LET THIS REVIEW FINISH, but first I just gotta vent: the characterizations in this book were so godawful sexist that sometimes I wanted the book itself to get infected with smart viruses which could turn it into blood music-humming mush. Because, COME ON. This was approaching Alfred Bester levels of retrograde gender stereotypes. Except that Greg Bear was writing this 20-30 years later, in the 1980s. Thus this was ostensibly Cyberpunk/Biopunk period, not Golden Age of Sci-fi (Sexism)/Good Ol' Boy Period period. Bechdel test = FAIL. Survivor girl who is meek, pouty and (self-described) dumb: FAIL. Survivor man who is Upstanding White Elder Statesman who is, in contrast, fully intelligent, informed, and all about his big thoughts blah. And who muses on his past ladytroubles. Fail, fail. So much fail. Color me disappointed, Greg Bear!
So things pretty much peter out by the end, which is a shame. But it did whet (pun intended) my appetite for Rudy Rucker's post-human stuff, a la Postsingular or the wetware stuff.
The original gray goo apocalypse. These days we're afraid of nanotechnology and cyber-singularities, but apart from a couple is quaint leftovers from the eighties (disk drives, what no Internet?) it's still a fresh as when I first read it.