We survive capitalism. Evolving into a library economy, we flourish in a garden city powered by the sun. People no longer need to kill themselves working or each other, with all of our needs met. And yet, malice lives on in paradise.
When a painter is murdered in a library of things, citizen detectives use crowdsolving to catch the criminal. A Native-American crime-scene investigator pools his expertise with a full-time dad, an ex-cop bloodhound handler, and a femme fatale.
A.E. Marling writes on pages, cards, and buildings. A member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, A.E. has published several novels and written names and flavor text for Magic: the Gathering. In the past he also shone words in light on buildings as a projection activist (@AEMarling).
I read a couple of books from A.E. Marling's dark fantasy series The Land of Loam about a decade ago. In between then and now, I lost track of Marling, but a friend's recent review of a book by a different author (I don't recall which at this point) made me decide to look him up again. I found he'd published this mystery set in a near-future solarpunk city late in 2023, and picked it up right away, encouraged in part by a very pretty cover.
This rather short novel went slowly for me at first. It was reading much like a mosaic novel, with each chapter in third-person narration from a different character's point of view. And I wasn't finding the characters particularly interesting. In my mind, they were distinguished from each other solely by their "diversity points" or some kind of prop--green outfit, motorcycle, staff, etc. I ended up paging quickly through the book on my e-reader to see if the cast stabilized or not. (Thankfully, the answer was "yes." So I backed up and read the book at my usual pace.)
What seemed like a standard whodunnit in its early stages didn't help its case much, either. I'm not a mystery person, though I keep on trying the genre in the hope that maybe I've been missing something.
So perhaps it's just as well that this doesn't play out like an old-school mystery. . Some of the characters started to distinguish themselves more, as well. Taino is incompetent, Juul is anxious and/or lacks self-confidence, and so on. This isn't true of all of them--for example, I only remember Omari because his sections, almost without exception, focus heavily on his newborn spitting up and evacuating.
Murder in the Tool Libary has a "solarpunk" setting. I've read a couple other books along these lines, and even if I hadn't, Marling provides a brief explanation of its ethos before the story starts. In this novel, there's an emphasis on social harmony, equitably distributed and shared resources, mental health, and respect for the environment. Some carry-overs from today are ubiquitous social media and a culture of surveillance, though there are some exceptions that enable people to have some privacy.
A murder, of course, is a disruption to social harmony, and to the mental health of people who have to cope with its aftermath, so dealing with the killer promptly is crucial so that they don't kill again. The CDS is a detective group that most of our point of view characters belong to, that does much of its work via a group chat-with-upvoting in cyberspace.
Once the killer was caught, this story became much more intriguing, since it opened questions about how a society so fixated on harmony might deal with . In the past, there was some sort of uprising against , and the justice meted out to a murderer matches that of . Advocate Vittoria became a more engaging character as a public trial of the murderer played out, and I saw that her unassailable self-confidence and egotism bears a strong resemblance to the killer's.
I, and a minor character who speaks out at the trial, felt strong discomfort about the proceedings. It's true that our current system of justice and incarceration is inequitably applied and often involves literal slavery, and that that system must be one of the many systemic ills to be abolished in a solarpunk revolution. Prevention of , if possible, would have been ideal, but given that not happening, isn't satisfactory, to say the least. The investigation involved invading the suspect's home and trashing some of their things, and , none of which caused the slightest hesitation or objection from anyone involved. If the suspect is guilty, it's fine?
If future books have the same cast, I'd like to see a bit more development for them, both individually and as part of the CDS. I have a hard time believing that no one in the CDS gets into frustrated or even angry confrontations with Taino or Vittoria, each for different reasons. There's an emphasis on community here and there that isn't strongly played out through the characters themselves. Nakamura and Eše'hemeo'o, for example, feel isolated or separated from the cultures they show linguistic or religious signifiers for. No one in the CDS seems to have siblings, parents, or any sort of family connection beyond their own home.
I prefer Marling's other books I've read to this one, mainly because I like fantasy much more than mystery. But I'm willing to read another one of these to see how things continue from here, ideally by filling in some of the blanks I've perceived, and to see if it continues to investigate the cracks under the surface of what would otherwise seem to be a perfect society.
How do I start describing the myriad of ways I feel about this book? I think saying I loved it is a good one. The incredible way in which A.E. Marling spun a web of technologies, customs and system-altering ideals in the form of a city serves as an amazing backdrop to this mystery that is sure to have you theorising alongside the colourfully diverse cast of characters that whirl you around their world as they make every move possible to catch the culprit before they strike again.
I loved this book. I'm a fan of the optimistic sci-fi genre, but have honestly never found something quite like this.
The strength of the book is its visionary world building. It describes a high tech city on a recovering earth, where diverse residents enjoy a version of post-scarcity abundance produced in part by technology, but in larger part because they've just learned to share things well. The titular tool library represents the heart of this concept, and the violent murder committed in its halls represents some sort of deranged lunatic's quixotic desire to offend the world with the purest form of senseless violence, and challenge the world to deal with them.
It's a solid premise, carried more than capably throughout the story by an array of interesting characters with interesting relationships to one another. The characters themselves are unique and easy to get to know. Their contrasts and interactions fill out the premise of the story in a way that goes far past the overused tendencies in realistic sci-fi in which pages are filled with expository descriptions of how a technology works.
The writing style is direct and capable. It's not extravagant, but it's lively. It does justice to the setting with rich descriptions, but doesn't waste words. It feels very much like reading the early work of a master author. I would compare it favorably in some ways to the writing of Andy Weir, although I think Marling's writing is frankly better on most measures. For anyone who is looking to fall into a world that feels both believable but foreign, Marling tells a story that is refreshing in concept and delivery, and I'm eager for more.
I recommend this book for people who like to seek out grounded, earth-bound science fiction that explores new ways of living in ways that are both contemplative and exciting.
On the one hand, the world building is a remarkably capable vision of what a solarpunk future could be. It's a well-considered, genuine attempt to outline how society could be structured to meet a set of ideals. It also does a decent job of examining potential flaws and issues that might exist within that setting. I appreciated the extrapolation from current technology, and the organic way all these ideas were introduced reminded me pleasantly of Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom.
On the other hand I found roughly half of the cast just... a bit unlikeable. Some characters the book itself seemed determined to cast in a poor light, even when their errors were very human (see poor ). Others exhibited behaviors I found off-putting (enthusiasm for invading privacy, personal vendettas and ego driving law enforcement, sheer lust for violence) even as the book presents them as apparently sympathetic or even as reader stand-ins (see especially). These stand in uneasy contrast to the more likeable characters like Nakamura and Omari.
This left an odd taste in my mouth- especially with regards to the aspects the narrative tacitly supports.
On the whole however, I always appreciate a thoughtful take on something I've seldom seen, and this book delivers on that in (borrowed) spades. I am excited to read the sequel I've heard is coming soon!