Whenever you have an issue with a tiny aspect of something you read or watch, there often comes a fear that the follow-up book/movie/whatever will spend more time on that aspect and, therefore, infuriate you. This was the case with my reading Ex-Patriots. In my review of the first book, Ex-Heroes, I noted that the racial dynamics of the characters were bothersome. There was so much time spent introducing readers to the heroes that this wasn’t a really big issue. This time around, however, I couldn’t ignore it.
It started right off the bat. Four paragraphs into Chapter 2, we are introduced to a young Latina who is participating in a celebratory cutting of St. George’s hair. It turns out the girl is only an excuse to introduce us to Cesar, her uncle, who wants to disclose his own superpower to St. George. Cesar was previously a gang member. So we’re not into Book 2 of this series and we haven’t yet met a Latino—in Los Angeles, mind you—who isn’t associated with a gang. A little later, the heroes decide it’s finally time to be nominally inclusive. Of course, most of the team objects, but St. George insists. “I expect to see at least one person with a tattoo,” he says. When they finally choose a former gang member to go out with them, he voices his disdain for the team’s new armor: “Shit looks gay.” Come on, man.
The most hilarious racial moment occurred when Colonel Shelley, the man in charge at Yuma, asked one of the heroes how they were able get chickens in the Mount. Shelley was told, “There were a bunch of families from Mexico and South America who kept them in their back yards. Lots in Chinatown and Little Tokyo, too. Some of them found shelter with a group calling themselves the Seventeens.” That is practically an admission that the Mount had been free of Latinos before taking in survivors after the war with the Seventeens. It is confirmation that all the Latinos in this series are associated with the gang.
At least one of them is treated like a good guy at some point. I can’t say the same about Asian people. Throughout the first two books of the series, there have been three named Asian people. There are Sandra Oh, described as being “The bitchy Asian woman,” from Gray’s Anatomy, a Korean ex-hero who was Gorgon’s underaged girlfriend and went by the name Banzai, and Christian Nguyen, a citizen of the Mount who was very anti-hero.
I don’t mind her being anti-hero, but Christian Nguyen represents part of how the plot was not, in my opinion, very well thought out. The survivors of the Mount had been living there safely under the protection of the heroes for about two years when the Army showed up out of the blue one day. There is no way you can convince me that in a post-apocalyptic scenario, the most enthusiastic voice of the “Hey! We’re rescued because the Army is here!” is going to be a non-White person. Not in this America.
In Ex-Heroes, there weren’t really any named Black characters. That changes in Ex-Patriots. In this novel, the heroes of the Mount contend with a band of genetically enhanced super soldiers from a base in Yuma, Arizona. These soldiers, the Unbreakables, are led by a Black man named Captain John Carter Freedom. This guy is a piece of work. Captain Freedom is “Six-eight, maybe six-ten, easy, and built like a fucking linebacker.” What a patriot this guy is. “The Army was where I was supposed to be and I was going to serve until I died. I had a duty to serve my country. The United States had fought a war against itself, spilled its own blood, so my great-great grandfather could be free. So I could have this proud name.” Oh yeah, Freedom’s special gun is called Lady Liberty. Writing from the point of view of the oppressed requires skill and nuance not many people have. Ugh.
It wasn’t just race. This book is seriously flawed in dealing with gender as well. From Danielle, who is too frightened live when not in the Cerberus suit—she sleeps under her kitchen table for crying out loud—to Sergeant Kennedy, who is an eager-to-pleaser under the guise of being a strong soldier, this book is downright demeaning to women. “I’m not supposed to freak out,” Kennedy says. “Girls freak out.” The best part was this: “Mom says having three girls was murder on him. He loved us, don’t get me wrong. He was the greatest dad in the world and he spent every minute he could with us, but it was rough on him not to have a son to keep up the military tradition…I was the youngest. And the tomboy. As soon as I was old enough to understand Dad’s quiet disappointment, I knew what I was going to do with my life.” Right.
In Ex-Heroes, I thought that Stealth was the author’s sexual fantasy put on paper. This is another area in which Ex-Patriots is worse than the original. The text is fairly explicit in this regard. When Stealth asked St. George how he was able to resist someone’s powers of persuasion, he told her he thought of a loophole. “That soldier hit you with his rifle. The second he did that, I realized I didn’t want to beat the bad guy. I just wanted to save the girl.” Stealth says to him, “You have heroic fantasies where I am ‘the girl.’” And then Stealth, the stoic, aloof Vicki-Spock woman, says, “At the moment I find your heroic fantasies somewhat endearing.” What? Essentially, this entire series has been a nerdy hero too afraid to tell the object of his desire how he feels about her saves the damsel in distress tale.
And I haven’t even brought up the Obi-Wan Kenobi zombie. That was too much for me. Had I been reading a paperback, I would have thrown it against the wall. No, man. Just…no.
I thought the autobiographical chapters in Ex-Heroes helped moved the plot. I felt the opposite this time. They took me out of the rhythm of the story and, in some cases, gave away too much as to take some of the intrigue away.
For the most part, I did like the way Peter Clines wrote John Smith. He was actually a great character. From his first appearance, his dialogue and actions were perfect. Everything involving him was very well done…until the end. John Smith had been too smart throughout the entire novel to make the mistake of creating a situation in which he could not be heard.
This book was not for me. If the series continues, I doubt I’ll pick it back up. Interesting concept, but not my style.