I read this book because I loved the movie version of "Sahara", which was based on a book of the same name by Clive Cussler and was about the same central characters. I always like to read a series in order, so I started with this one.
I deliberated whether to give this one star or two. I almost gave it two, to be kind, but in the end I couldn't do it. I mean, the book is not entirely without merit, but its message to the reader just contains too much that I find disturbing and believe to be fundamentally wrong. I cannot say that this is 'ok.' I do not like it.
I have been unable to avoid spoilers in this review, in order to make the important points.
THE GOOD STUFF:
1) THE PLOT
I would file the plot of this book under 'daft, but fun.' I enjoyed the central story, and there were a few minor plot twists towards the end that I did not see coming.
2) AL GIORDINO
I liked Al. My personal view is that he would make a much better protagonist than Dirk Pitt. Where Pitt is melodramatic and whiny for the majority of the book, Al just grins and gets on with it - even when 'getting on with it' involves considerable physical pain to himself. He's witty, too. He is, in fact, a ton more likeable than Pitt, and a lot more interesting as a character. Unfortunately, he doesn't actually appear until quite near the end of the book.
(I also quite liked Sandecker, but he was only in it for one scene.)
SOME MINOR NIGGLES:
1) MELODRAMATIC TONE
The book is melodramatic in tone right from the first paragraph, and this never really lets up. It's like the writer is always telling us: "This is dangerous! This is scary! This is exciting!"
Except that it doesn't make it seem exciting. In fact, it detracts from the excitement, and robs scenes of the impact they might have had, if handled more deftly.
2) HEAD-HOPPING
The point of view switches from one character to another with a wild abandon, which makes scenes that bit harder for the reader to follow. Possibly, however, this was not quite so frowned upon at the time when this book was written.
3) MIXED METAPHORS
There are more of these than you can shake a stick at. It's like he's doing it on purpose. (It is, as I say, a minor niggle. But it's still a niggle.)
THE EXTREMELY DISTURBING AND SUCKY STUFF:
1) MR CUSSLER'S ALARMING ATTITUDE TOWARDS WOMEN
At first I just thought, "Ok, this is kind of androcentric, and contains a great deal of male wish-fulfilment." Then, after a while, I thought, "Actually, this is distinctly male supremacist." And while after that, I thought, "We are now getting into the realms of serious misogyny."
To begin with, every woman Pitt meets (with the exception of the old woman who lends him her telephone) is a stunner. And they all want him. Hmmm.
When Pitt meets one of these women, we are told that he "...automatically cross-indexed her in his mind as to height, weight, build, age, and if she might or might not." (p. 86). Automatically. This what Pitt automatically does upon meeting a woman: every woman is bedroom fodder to him. And Mr Cussler appears wholeheartedly to approve.
We also meet a woman who behaves in much the same way towards men as Pitt does towards women. She is an object of derision throughout the book, and is almost treated as less than human.
Tinsy
double standard there?
At one point, Pitt is in conversation with this woman's father, and trying not to mention that he has previously slept with her. He thinks, "How do you tell a father that his daughter is a sexual maniac...?" (p. 199). Well, I don't know, sonny - how would you tell your mother that you are?
And the fact that she is an object of derision does not stop Mr Cussler from trying for cheap thrills by frequently having her show up scantily dressed, or not dressed at all. He is happy to use her for sexual kicks, even while he is despising her.
Basically, if Mr Cussler can throw a scantily clad or naked woman into a scene, he does. He even throws them into action sequences, and slows down the action by dwelling upon just how scantily clad - or unclad - they are. It's pretty lame.
Mr Cussler also puts forward the idea that lying to a woman does not really count. "Lying to a woman was easy, Pitt thought, but lying to a man was something else." (p. 199). No, actually, it's exactly the same thing. This is not rocket science.
He also speaks of "...the usual preliminaries, the artful little lies, the step by step manoeuvres that the female species demands without understanding why" before they will put out (p. 43). There is so much wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start. But we have to start somewhere - so how about the strong implication that if a man wishes to sleep with a woman she ought to put out straight away, without these "preliminaries"? Or the implication that a man is therefore justified in lying to said woman in order to get her to put out? Or that women really know that they are being lied to, but "demand" that it should be done to them anyway? Or that women have no understanding of themselves or their own actions? Or that women are another frigging
species
and therefore not human at all? Enough to be going on with?
The 'love interest' begins by appearing to be sufficiently sophisticated and worldly to convince the highly experienced and worldly Pitt that she is so, yet by the end of the story, she is shown to be naive to the point of imbecility. Judging from what follows (see below), this appears to be Mr Cussler's concept of the ideal woman.
As for the woman who treats men in the same way that Pitt treats women - she is endangered towards the end of the book, and nobody seems to think that her life is worth saving. Even her own father doesn't seem particularly bothered, and is more cut up when he thinks that Pitt (whom he barely knows) has died than when he is certain that his daughter is about to. Pitt and Al eventually save her, but Mr Cussler is at pains to point out that Pitt only did it for the sake of her father, not for her own sake. The life of a woman who behaves like a man, according to Mr Cussler, is expendable.
Quite early on, a woman knees Pitt in the groin and then tries to stick a hypodermic needle in him, and Pitt punches her on the chin. This is fair enough - he was defending himself, and she struck him first. He then carries her back, unconscious, to his hotel room, and when she wakes up, he threatens to rape her. This is not fair enough. The implication is that Pitt means it as some kind of joke, and I doubt that it would have been physically possible so soon after a major blow to the groin anyway. But it's a sick joke, and the fact that Pitt, and Mr Cussler, think that it is acceptable - let alone funny - is pretty disturbing.
There is also a scene in which Pitt, on waking up from a kip on someone's couch, sees a pair of female legs in front of him that he likes the look of. So he strokes them. Think about this for a moment: it means that if Pitt sees even
part
of a woman's body - without even knowing whose body it is! - he thinks he has the right to touch. It means that, according to Mr Cussler, a woman does not have a right to choose who touches her body and who does not - that choice lies with the man, and whether or not he wishes to touch. This is the outside edge of rape culture.
For reasons passing understanding, the love interest decides that she is in love with Pitt. (This is during the naive-to-the-point-of-imbecility stage in her development.) Pitt claims, in his internal monologue, that he loves her too. The love interest then dies stupidly. Pitt (who, along with Al, has by this time sustained the kind of injuries you expect at the end of a Lethal Weapon movie), is shipped off to hospital. By the time he is discharged, we are told that he is already starting to forget her face - not particularly surprising, since, by my reckoning, they can't have spent much above two hours in each others' company; maybe three, tops. (And he did not spend all of that time looking at her face, if you take my meaning.) Pitt decides that, to him, she is only a symbol of "...the one exciting, tantalising love that all men seek but are never meant to have." (p. 336). He throws some flowers into the sea for her, and by the time he has done this, he feels "happy" again, and goes away whistling (p. 346). The fact that she is dead no longer matters. The death of a woman - even Mr Cussler's ideal woman - apparently only matters for as long as it has adverse effects on a man.
There are other examples of misogyny that I could cite, but frankly, life's too short to spend any more time and energy on it.
2) DIRK GIT (sorry, PITT)
There is a good deal of overlap between this point and the last one, but I thought this character deserved a point ALL to himself.
He is, as I have mentioned, melodramatic and whiny for most of the story. He appears to think that women exist in order that he might sleep with them. And he's pretty unpleasant in other ways, too.
We are told, when he is first introduced to us, that his face is "hard-featured but friendly" (p. 11). This is fairly difficult to picture, and I soon gave up trying to picture him as looking "friendly", since he seems to go out of his way to antagonise almost everyone he meets. Remarkably, they all end up liking him anyway. The reasons for this change of heart are unclear to me.
At one point, he threatens to shoot a colleague with a nasty weapon intended for blowing up sharks, in order to force him to comply with Pitt's wishes.
Then there's the way he treats Al Giordino. Al has been Pitt's best friend since kindergarten. Pitt, in his internal monologue, uses a racial slur against this friend (who is dark-skinned in the book), and he does this while Al is trying to save both their lives. Pitt also, we are told, once deliberately stole Al's prom date by lying to her about Al, and has apparently not tired of rubbing his nose in it, however many years later this is supposed to be. Sweet fella.
In addition to these delightful traits, he also personifies the overriding theme of misogyny (as outlined in the point above).
In short, I am not impressed with Dirk Pitt. He is a git. Dirk Git.
He does, to be fair, show courage at times, particularly in the last few scenes. But this feels out of character after all the melodramatic whining, and there's no discernible character arc to explain it. And he sometimes shows quite a lot of intelligence, but at other times, he's spectacularly stupid (for instance: we know that a sinister intelligence is behind the disappearance of the submarine - so when we find it, let's split up to explore it!)
And those really are the only good things about this character that I can think of: occasional intelligence and spasmodic courage.
CONCLUSION:
After watching the movie "Sahara", I had high hopes for this book. I was deeply disappointed. I thought I would have a whole new series to follow - and part of me feels that it might almost be worth it, for the sake of Al.
Almost, but not quite. I don't want any more of my money to go towards making a misogynist richer - I've now checked out a few reviews for Mr Cussler's later books, and it appears that this element of his writing does not improve. I also do not wish to wade through any more books as misogynistic as this one. Life is too damn short.
And anyway, he might make Al as nasty as Pitt in the other books, and I really wouldn't want to see that.
So no more Cussler books for me. I'll just stick with watching the movie.