Channel SK1N

by Jeff Noon

Welcome to the new interface.

Channel SK1N tells the story of Nola Blue: pop prodigy, the girl every teen wants to be, or be with. She has talent, hit tunes, international fame, everything she could possibly want. But when she begins to pick up TV signals on her skin, Nola is forced on a journey far beyond the boundaries of the mega-stardom she was moulded for.

This is a Frankenstein tale for the X-Factor Generation. Saturated with the same parasitic media that prey on Nola, Channel SK1N broadcasts Noon’s lyrical mastery on a viral frequency.

Genres: Science Fiction, Fiction, Fantasy, Weird Fiction, Ebooks

ebook

First published August 2, 2012

About the author

Jeff Noon is a novelist, short story writer and playwright whose works make extensive use of wordplay and fantasy.

He studied fine art and drama at Manchester University and was subsequently appointed writer in residence at the city's Royal Exchange theatre. But Noon did not stay too long in the theatrical world, possibly because the realism associated with the theatre was not conducive to the fantastical worlds he was itching to invent. While working behind the counter at the local Waterstone's bookshop, a colleague suggested he write a novel. The result of that suggestion,

Vurt, was the hippest sci-fi novel to be published in Britain since the days of Michael Moorcock in the late sixties.

Like Moorcock, Noon is not preoccupied with technology per se, but incorporates technological developments into a world of magic and fantasy.

As a teenager, Noon was addicted to American comic heroes, and still turns to them for inspiration. He has said that music is more of an influence on his writing than novelists: he 'usually writes to music', and his record collection ranges from classical to drum'n'bass.

Reviews

[Daniel Roy · Rating 3 out of 5]

When Vurt came out in 1993, I thought Jeff Noon was the best thing that ever happened to SF. His novel was like an acid trip of an impossible future of headache-inducing colors and greased up pixels. Reading Channel SK1N twenty years later, I wonder if Mr. Noon's future has simply become the echo of an impossible past.

There is still much of the madness and deft prose of Noon's previous works in this book, his first since Falling Out of Cars, ten years ago. But much of the color has been washed away, replaced by monochromatic television static. This story feels like a novelization of an experimental play performed in an abandoned warehouse. It would make a fine Serbian art film, with long, dislocated dialogues and unsettling composition.

There is an allegory about stardom and fame, about how the media devours the message and digests people. Some of the imagery is potent, uncomfortable, pungent. But for every time the prose borders on the poetic, there are moments of such gravitas that they collapse under their own weight. Characters emote and exchange lines with the bravado of actors acting out in a foreign language.

I'm left puzzled and frustrated by this book. In awe, not in love. Its allegories are at once too much on the nose, and too cryptic to be illuminating. Its prose is self-assured and often masterful, but it takes itself so seriously it feels like an insult to find it merely clever. The setting feels less like an impossible future than the flowering corpse of the nineties: there are television channels and bursts of static, making it all so analog.

And so, I find Jeff Noon's style and ideas as impressive as I did twenty years ago, but I'm forced to admit I'm no longer in love with them. I miss the cheerful drama and the urgency of his earlier works. This recent book is filled with so much numbness and sadness. It's the literary equivalent of the ghost print in an old television set of a woman crying.

[Kirk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have been reading this between the graphic novels I dove into, and while it took me a while to finish, I have to say this was one of the best books I read this year. It wasn’t perfect, but it is still five stars good.

I’ll start with the tiny bit of negative. I felt like this book wrapped up a bit oddly. I felt like it never really had a clear resolution. But then I also look back after reading and realize I don’t know what the plot trajectory was either. The protagonist finds she has this new ability, and much of the story is built around that high-concept element evolving. But then you get to around 70% of the book and you see that there’s not much beyond that.

I’m willing to overlook all of that though, because the style in this book is amazing. It is the perfect blend of traditional and experimental prose. The imagery pops in really amazing ways at times. You can tell this author is just an amazing wordsmith, and I’d probably read a book by him even if it meant nothing the entire time just because I enjoy the style so much.

Also: his ideas are brilliant. The concept here was captivating. I started the book because it reminded me of
my book Aetherchrist, but the concepts were so much more advanced, and so fully realized. Noon didn’t fuck around. He thought his concepts through to completion and he made that a big part of the narrative arc. I barely scratched the surface.

So I found another living writer who is truly a hero of mine now. I enjoy a lot of writers. I admire many, but I only have a handful of heroes, and even fewer of those are still alive.

Jeff Noon just went immediately into my top five living authors.

I hear his earlier work is even better, and I can’t wait to check it out.

[Miroslaw Aleksander · Rating 1 out of 5]

This one doesn't quite work for me. I found it repetitive, but, admittedly, you have to have read the thing that is being repeated, so I do see how some people might have liked it more than me.

Despite being described as 'Frankenstein for the X-Factor Generation' it is very reminiscent of older films and books that express fear of or serious doubts pertaining to mass media, celebrities, and the such. Nothing we didn't have in Cronenberg's movies (Videodrome!), William Gibson's fiction (Idoru, Mona Lisa Overdrive), and others. And, I'm afraid to say, executed in a way I find more pleasurable. This is a shame, because although Noon's had his weaker moments, Vurt, Pollen and Falling Out of Cars are among my favorite novels.

Other than repetitiveness, which actually is a fairly subjective issue, the books suffers from several other issues: the plot is predictable and rather thin. The protagonists are somewhat underdeveloped for my taste,

The language of the novel is irritating. I think Noon was trying to imitated the effect of zapping through the channels on a TV. However, this has been done by many others before him, from Marshall McLuhan to Transformers movies. It really isn't that cutting edge. Perhaps if it were a short story, it would be more compelling, but in this form it just drags out for too long.

[Simon Brind · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jeff Noon's first novel in almost a decade isn't really a book at all, at least not in the traditional sense. He's trying to do something with prose - and it remains prose, even though the style often appears to cross over into poetry - that has more in common with video than text. We've seen a similar style in bits of his earlier works and some of the short stories, and he uses it a lot on twitter in his 150 character "spores" - I am certain it is twitter that has spawned this book.

Stylistically, it definately works, but as a reader coming to what is essentially a new form it takes some getting used to and I think the transition from straight prose to the new prose happens to quickly for the piece to be entirely satisfying. This might be because I read it on the kindle; perhaps it works differently on paper.

That being said it is a very clever story, a post-post-cyberpunk look at reality television, the cult of celebrity, and the pressure of being in the public eye.

[Ivo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Starting off feeling like a modern retelling of classic anime Perfect Blue, this novel quickly incorporates the familiar themes, wordplay and experiments that make it undeniably a Jeff Noon novel. I can't think of any other writer this good at conveying a feeling of synesthesia. He managed to blend music and writing in Needle in the Groove with hypnotic results. I felt this novel attempts to do the same with writing and visual communication, both on tv and online. He sometimes misses the mark, but most often succeeds brilliantly.

[Damon · Rating 1 out of 5]

This was just not good. Made worse, actually, by the couple seeds of really interesting ideas that were in it, but they definitely seemed to rot and die in the ground - probably because of over-watering with weird stream of consciousness sentence fragments and pretty much unreadable pseudo-cyber poetry nonsense. I really liked Noon's earlier stuff, and had thought his last book (the last couple maybe) was a solid step in the direction of books that one can actually read and enjoy. Not the case here, sadly.

[Jakub · Rating 5 out of 5]

A haunting, dream-like, poetic journey into the not-so-distant future. An interesting experiment that manages to convey how lonely one can be among a throng of others, of viewers, of voyeurs.

[Darlene · Rating 1 out of 5]

Straszny bełkot, zbitek zdań, które nic ciekawego nie przedstawiają.

[katooola · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perełka wśród dziwaczności.

To opowieść o młodej, gwiazdce popu - Noli Blue, która jest ucieleśnieniem marzeń milionów. Pewnego dnia zaczyna transmitować sygnały radiowo/telewizyjne na swojej... skórze. Tak, dobrze czytacie. Skórowizja, spikselowane ciało, czy jak to tam nazwać. Dosłownie, telewizja absurdu, która niejednemu zrobi wirówkę w głowie.

Pokochałam eksperymentalną zabawę autora stylami narracji. Momentami pozornie chaotyczna gra słów, czasem niczym wiersz, trochę to jest niczym wyrzut przypadkowych obrazów z TV. Jest to takie oniryczne, psychodeliczne, poetyckie i wręcz hipnotyzujące. Przepadłam.

"TV Ciał0" skłania do wielu ponurych refleksji. Traktuje o transhumanizmie człowieka w cyfrowym świecie, kiedy granica między istotą ludzką a mediami zostaje zatarta? Celebryci mają termin przydatności, jako produkt bywają przeżuci i wypluci, dosłownie. Wystarczy chwilka i upada się boleśnie na dno. Jak ten cały światek plotek, ploteczek, wszelakich reality show i celebrytów bywa kapryśny.
O samotności jednostki nawet w wielkim tłumie, o wyniszczającej presji bycia na świeczniku, o chorej obsesji fanów. Czy wyprodukowany człowiek mający karmić media ma jeszcze w sobie "ja"?
Potem pozostaje jedynie pustka.

Coś niesztampowego! Polecam, choć zdaję sobie sprawę, że nie każdemu taki sposób narracji przypadnie do gustu. Mam ochotę na inne książki tego autora!

[Pat · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's weird, there's bat-shit crazy, then there"s Jeff Noon, In a near future England obsessed with popularity and the media we follow a young starlet as she starts to broadcast media signals on her own skin. throw in a sub-plot about a reality TV show that has achieved the status of a religious cult, where people watch a contender slowly go mental living in an empty, transparent dome. All delivered in Noon's trademark surreal style.

[Stijn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is it. This experimental, (New?) Weird story is what it is all about. Maybe too experimental for some, but people familiar with his work or with the Weird genre will find a true gem here.
Channeling radio/tv/... signals on your skin. Vision screen, skincast, channel skin. It is a perfect setting for the beautiful mind of Jeff Noon. It almost reads like a poem. Sometimes the rhythm of the words are hypnotic, as if Nola Blue is not the only one that channels signals.

[Adrik Kemp · Rating 3 out of 5]

A techno fever dream

[Artur Coelho · Rating 4 out of 5]

No inesquecível primeiro parágrafo de Neuromancer William Gibson descreve o céu como da cor de ecrãs de televisão. Um ano antes David Cronenberg brincava escatologicamente com as teorias de Marshall McLuhan em Videodrome, filme onde as ilusões televisivas ganham vida própria e a carne humana se mescla com a tecnologia video em formato VHS. Uma implicação das ideias de McLuhan é a influência dos media na consciência humana. Expostos a novos media, a nossa forma de pensar altera-se, e por extensão a sociedade modifica-se. É um conceito particularmente pertinente nestes primeiros anos da era digital, onde a internet surge como força transformativa modificando profundamente os mais díspares e insuspeitos aspectos da sociedade contemporânea. Mas regressemos a Gibson. Anos depois de Neuromancer publica Idoru, romance cyberpunk sobre uma estrela pop artificial.

Misturemos estas ideias com uma dose forte de prosa experimental, numa veia de alucinação eléctrica cheia de energia verbal, e temos Channel Sk1n, onde uma estrela ascendente da música pop sofre uma transformação que torna a sua pele no ecrã de televisão. Nola, a cantora, é uma voz artificial, ser humano recriado pela sabedoria de produtores que transformam pessoas em ícones de perfeição para consumo dos gostos transientes da população. O mundo está saturado de media, saturado pelas emissões de míriades de multicanais cuja escolha se transforma numa permanente paisagem mediática em constante mutação.

Nola dilui-se no ciberespaço televisivo. O vírus etérico que lhe transforma o corpo num ecrã causa a morte e acaba esquecida, abandonada num campo. Mas Nola é um símbolo de artificialidade. Consumida pelo sonho da popularidade musical, a estrela é alguém que foi treinado e redesenhado até à exaustão pelos gestos precisos dos produtores, especialistas em recriar a mulher aos olhos do público. Uma recriação tão profunda que Nola chega a esquecer-se de si própria, transformando-se totalmente no ser artificial cuja voz e música a metro cativam multidões.

Na pervasiva paisagem mediática electrónica ninguém é poupado, nem os feiticeiros que conjuram as imagens que enchem o espectro electromagnético. George, o produtor de Nola, é um exímio criador de estrelas para o fluxo do consumo cultural mediatizado. Artesão da sensível arte de modelar humanos à imagem do gosto comercial, tem uma filha que participa num singular reality show. O mais visto dos inúmeros programas, resume-se a colocar o participante dentro de uma redoma cujo exterior projecta todas as imagens do interior. Os fãs mais renhidos concentram-se fisicamente à volta da redoma, como tribos reunidas junto do fogo que ilumina e aquece. Mas esta concorrente consegue o impossível. Sob o olhar panopticon de milhentas câmaras e espectadores, desaparece sem deixar rasto. Um mistério que se começa a resolver quando a princípio pequenos vestígios da concorrente vão surgindo nos ecrãs. Imagens fugazes, visíveis apenas pelo olho da lente. Aparições públicas, manifestações em filmes antigos. Torna-se claro que o corpo foi consumido pela febre digital e a sua imagem ganhou vida própria, habitando o éter da cultura pop televisiva.

Num fluxo cultural constante, a memória do físico depressa se desvanece, mas a memória virtual permanece. Nola é esquecida, George afunda-se entre ecrãs em busca de vislumbres da filha que reencarnou como imagem televisiva. Mas neste futuro de ecrãs interligados, em laços de bits e feixes hertzianos, há sempre uma memória digital, um ficheiro de vídeo num servidor, um clip que passa num dos milhentos canais televisivos, vislumbrado num fugaz momento de zapping.

Confesso que já há bastante tempo que um livro não me deixava tão intrigado. Talvez pelo experimentalismo da prosa. Channel Sk1n não é leitura fácil, com uma linguagem vernacular muito própria, inventada para a obra. Faz recordar o inglês futuro que dá a Clockwork Orange de Burgess a estranheza do plausível. Ou talvez pela temática, remisturando teorias da vida digital, sociedade de informação, cultura pop comercial com forte dose de McLuhan. Neste livro, Jeff Noon reduz ao absurdo a ideia que as tecnologias que criamos nos modificam intimamente. Perdoem-me o name dropping, mas a dromologia de Virílio, a era da informação de Castells, a terceira vaga dos Toffler e o meio como mensagem de McLuhan colidem e inspiram este livro. Ou então estou muito enganado e sucumbi à doença mediática de atribuir demasiado significado às imagens transmitidas.

[Larou]

I first encountered Jeff Noon’s works through a reading from his second novel Pollen he did in a Camden Town bookstore while I was on vacation in London. I wasn’t really reading any Science Fiction anymore at this time, but I was looking for something to do that evening when I saw the announcement and his novels seemed very well written, so I decided I might as well give it a try. And I am very glad that I did, not only because I walked away with a signed copy of Pollen from that reading but also because it introduced me to one of the most exciting contemporary Science Fiction writers, and one of the very few for whom SF is a form and a language as much if not more than a content. In that light, while he used to be called the British answer to William Gibson, I’d much rather view him as continuing in the vein of the work of the young Samuel R. Delany.

As such, he fits in quite well with a recent discussion kicked off in a review by Paul Kincaid in which he claimed that Science Fiction had become tired and authors were lacking a vision and merely clinging to genre conventions (a brief summary with links to the discussion can be found here). Being too conventional is definitely not a problem that Jeff Noon’s novels suffer from – they are all restlessly experimenting, reaching for a structure and a style that would be appropriate to the future they depict. This is helped by the fact that Noon is a brilliant writer, whose linguistic inventiveness seems to know no bounds and who has a very fine ear for prose rhythm that provides his writing with its striking and inimitable groove. And in the context of that discussion, it might also be significant that he has not published a new book since 2002, making Channel SK1N his first novel in ten years and that he is self-publishing it as an e-book (and also apparently re-releasing his older works – if you do not already have them, I recommend getting them as soon as possible).

I admit, I had some reservations at first – when it starts out, Channel SK1N seems to rehash some very old, very tired tropes: Following its main protagonist Nola Blue, a pop star who just released a third song and already sees her career failing, the novel appears to be just another variation on the theme of “artist selling her soul for success.” But while Noon does riff on that well-worn traditional, he develops it in surprising directions, and soon the novel turns out to be a meditation on mass-media and self-identity and the way they interact with each other. There still seems to be very distinct Videodrome influence in the way media and real life begin to bleed into each other until they are becoming indistinguishable, but Jeff Noon does his own, very imaginative remix. Like his previous novel, Falling Out Of Cars, this is a very dark novel, with a very ambiguous ending, missing the exuberance his earlier novels – although not exactly comfort reads either – never were completely without.

While Noon’s prose is somewhat more restrained here than in most of his previous works, there still is some tight interweaving between form and plot, style and content – as Nola’s identity becomes increasingly fuzzy, as her self is blurred between her individuality, her pop star persona and her uncanny and unexplained (there is some kind of explanation, but in typical Jeff Noon fasion it’s very throwaway and barely qualifies even as handwaving) transformation into a human transmitter, the text drifts in and out of prose into song lyrics, and in intervals is interspersed with something that reads like the ASCII translation of a hex dump. There is some added complexity by a character complementary to Nola – while she finds her life and indeed her very body invaded by the media, another girl delivers her life (and, ultimately, her very body) to puplic consumption. Both their bodies become the medium: Channel SK1N.

Channel SK1N is an intense and compellling reading experience and marks the welcome return of one of the most orignal voices in contemporary Science Fiction, and I very much hope that it is a permanent return to writing fiction and that more will follow.

[Olof-Joachim Frahm · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know, maybe I have to read it again, but it didn't quite capture my interest as much as the previous books.

[Marc Nash · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book is swathed in genius, wonderful linguistic and imagistic set-pieces, yet doesn't quite hold together in a satisfying whole. Its world is a media saturated one, where pop singing sensations are created by George Gold, a Simon Cowell figure, but have a very limited shelf-life and live hopelessly isolated lives to protect them from the public's insatiable demand to paw at them. But Gold himself has lost his flesh and blood daughter to the most popular reality show of the day, "The Pleasure Dome", a sort of Spandau Prison in which its sole prisoner alternates between shucking the toxic inheritance of her father and trying to reach out towards him, through the public prism of 24-hour TV surveillance. Every thought is broadcast and contestants rarely emerge with their sanity intact

One of Gold's superannuated creations Nola Blue, develops a condition whereby her skin displays every televisual output as if it were a channel hopping screen itself. She develops an imagistic symbiosis with Gold's daughter Melissa. She shows her broadcasts from within "The Pleasure Dome", but she also channels her. There is a wonderful scene with the bereft George Gold when Nola alternates between herself and projecting the missing Melissa. But the strange thing is that although the novel ostensibly has Nola as its main character, Melissa is far more interesting, while Nola remains far more nebulous. Nola does much random travelling with no clear purpose in mind, which I found a bit frustrating. It seemed a part of the plotting that was underdeveloped.

But then Noon takes your breath away with the audacity of his creative and linguistic capabilities. "Words were written there (her forearm), blood words. They dripped red but could not be touched. George tried to: he put his fingers into the blood, feeling it to be dry, an image alone. It was the broadcast of a wound". Also the other two Noon novels I've read both have rather trite 'girl died/gone missing, search for that lost love' plots. I'm happy to report the two key relationships here are much fuller and more maturely handled; that of father-daughter with the Golds and also the Svengali to his acolyte with Gold and Nola. And then there's the fascinating relationship between Nola and Melissa who of course never meet in the flesh, yet resonate off one another's mental wavelengths.

Ultimately one's experience of the book will come down to the reader's expectations and demands for plot. Nola as I say wanders around to not much effect, except when she passes through interactions of interest. Then she almost fades out like the white dot on old televisions when you switched them off. The engrossment comes from the language, the imagery and the envisioning of our media saturated society. For me that was enticing enough, but it may not be to everyone's taste. For fans of "Videodrome", "The Illustrated Man", "Channel Skin" represents a twenty-first century updating of these visions, while it perhaps has most in common with the subplot of Jonathan Lethem's "Chronic City" in which one half of a celebrity couple is stuck in outer space, being broadcast on a round the clock reality TV show as they creep towards inevitable death.

[Alex Sarll]

I knew it would happen sooner or later - an author I love released an ebook exclusive, so I finally bought one, rather than sticking to free classics. And it's appropriate that it should be Noon, who's always been fascinated by the idea of media blurring into one another, and into humanity. As here, where a young woman ends up with TV skin.
The problem is, it's Noon's first book in a decade, and yet he doesn't really seem to have moved on in that time. Or if he has, it's not far enough - a tragic Simon Cowell-type figure, a shamanic update of Big Brother, seem like story components from five years ago. And while Noon has been away, Lawrence Miles' Faction Paradox has colonised much of this territory, even down to having a manufactured pop starlet (already halfway along the transition from human to image) as a protagonist exemplifying the blurring boundaries between humanity and our cultural output (and input). Touches of futurism elsewhere seem oddly dated; however many channels get added, is it really likely we'll start calling the TV a 'visionplex' any time soon?
These objections aside, though, there's one thing that makes it all worthwhile - the language. Noon remains a poet of interstitial roads, flickering TV channels and urban fizz.

[Will · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's great to be reading a Jeff Noon novel again, ten years after his last. His style is as unique as ever; lost in the margins between prose and poetry, writing and music, cyberpunk and fantasy, and clearly having great fun throughout. But Channel SK1N is not the rollicking adventure that Vurt, Pollen or Nymphomation were - it's much more of a mood piece, like Falling Out of Cars. I finished that book feeling a little let down, and the same is true here, but maybe I need to reset my expectations.

This book is shot through with Noon's simultaneous love and wariness of technology. The plot revolves around mass-broadcast television and the concept of fame/fandom in the age of the X-Factor and Big Brother. But the inclusion of woozy Noonalogues for the internet and social media gives the book a wonderful timelessness - other readers complaining about the book's anachronisms are missing the point.

[Guy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I count Noon amongst my favourite authors, but I didn't enjoy this one at all. The writing style is reminiscent of 2000's Needle In The Groove, with traditional prose regularly breaking down into poetry or just a jumble of un-punctuated words, but whereas in the former case it felt appropriate and conductive to the tale being told, here it feels forced and uneasy.

The story is both brief and bleak, the targets of the manufactured pop industry and reality TV feel too easy - this is a book that feels like it's riding on the fears of 10 years ago rather than reflecting the current zeitgeist. A disappointment.

[Kerszi]

Książka inna niż wszystkie. Wiadomo Uczta wyobraźni obowiązuje. Wiem, że to SF, ale w książce troszeczkę zabrakło mi realizmu i pewne nieścisłości. Nie rozumiem w jaki sposób nie można powiększyć fragmentu obrazu, jakaś magia? To nie fantasy. Ostatecznie można zrobić zdjęcie zdjęciu i powiększyć. Chyba, że świat stworzony przez Jeffa jest taki jak nasz ale bez możliwości powiększenia ;) W książce jest wiele świetnych motywów, ale czepiam się akurat tego. Autor bardzo się starał stworzyć klimat, ale dla mnie trochę to wszystko za chaotyczne i naiwne. Proza przemieszana z poezją, kodem pseudo tv i piosenkami. Może się to spodobać, może i nie. Dla mnie trochę za płytkie, być może bo przeczytałem dużo SF i stałem się wymagającym czytelnikiem.

[Kars · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's been a long wait since the last Noon novel. This is a short, sad story of a starlet quite literally consumed by the media. In particular, it is a meditation on the omnipresent influence of television. The main issue I have with the book is that its subject matter feels strangely out of step with the times. In places it feels like scifi that would have been fashionable 10-15 years ago... Noon's wonderfully lyrical prose and nightmarish imagery saves the book though, he certainly remains a unique voice.

[Richard B · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh how I've missed you Mr. Noon. This is the first novel of his since 'Falling Out of Cars' which I loved and this one did not disappoint. A clever mix of sci-fi, social observation, meta-narrative and a flat out great story. Interesting only published as an ebook. A story about the fickle nature of celebrity, and the public's voracious appetite for it, and sadly believable model of constant consumption of entertainment news / gossip and reality entertainment. For fans of clever, intelligent science based fiction and meta-narrative. Welcome back Jeff.

[Krys · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is exactly what I expect from Jeff Noon - dizzying at times, a fast ride through a slow revelation.
If you've ever read anything by him, you will be very comfortable with his wordplay, and sometimes rambling explorations of a concept. He writes scathingly about our media and image obsession, and I absolutely love the pure creativity of his premise.

I recommend this book, highly. It was worth the wait.

[Steve Gillway · Rating 5 out of 5]

I recommend listening to Joy Division while reading this book. The dissonance and urban feel help to connect with the ideas. Really good book. I noticed that I was rattling through the book. It sweeps along, caustically expanding on current aspects of modern life. He's been away from a while and it is pleasing to see Jeff Noon putting some new stuff out. It's encouraged me to go back to the previous books which I read in the dim and distant past

[Lushr · Rating 4 out of 5]

So glad he's back, noon's ideas are so imaginative they will touch everything you see evermore. I read this really quickly and have read a lot since but the imagery and idea of this are so original and meaningful and relevant they cut through everything else. Not a huge fan of the poetry moments as sometimes they communicate little to me and fill in where action or plot would sit in a traditional book.

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am a fan of Jeff Noon's writing style. I love the way the story and the words become nearly lyrical. This was enough to satisfy me. But. I did want just a tad more more, I wanted more ideas, more weirdness. It was strangely grounded compared to his other stuff (or at least how I remembered them). The characters were also a bit empty. Stuff happened _to_ them. But that wasn't so much a problem for me.

[Kate Sherrod · Rating 5 out of 5]

A strange and subtle prose-poem about shattered attention spans, hypermediation, and the most likely form in which any actual transhumanism might take. May produce sensations of tickling. Watch your abdomens, and remember that we don't need anything so clumsily obvious as videotape slots anymore.

[Steen Ledet · Rating 5 out of 5]

An amazing book of lyrical prose, science fiction, media theory and posthuman philosophy. Taking an SF scenario, what would happen if one contracted a media virus which projected TV images on your skin, Noon writes engagingly and beautifully about the blending of human and media.

[Lee · Rating 3 out of 5]

A welcome return to form, although Channel Sk1n falls short of Noon's best work, the likes of Vyrt, and Pollen. The prose is fresh, vibrant and at times, poetic. However, it does feel to some degree like an expanded short story.

[Daimo Peat · Rating 3 out of 5]

I, like many others, have been waiting for a new book from the spectacular author, Jeff Noon. However, this just didn't get me interested in the way his other novels have. I was spellbound with previous books and was hoping to get the same experience from Channel Sk1N.