Anyone like me who has ever read a James Rollins novel, and especially any of his previous 'Sigma' books, will know that he tends to work to a pretty standard formula.
Based on the popularity of his books it’s quite obviously a very commercially successful formula, but that shouldn't obscure the fact that it is also one that has become creatively well-worn and rather tired.
After discovering Rollins’ pre-Sigma novels on business trips to the US before he had a UK publisher, I used to look forward to each new adventure. Even when he dropped the varied casts and settings of his early novels for the recurring world of Sigma I stuck with them. However, over time the rinse-and-repeat nature of the plots, along with the increasingly stale characters and overly familiar stylistic tics has slowly worn away my affection for the author to the point that I skipped his last Sigma novel, The Sixth Extinction, entirely. I simply couldn’t see any appeal in going over the same narrative ground yet again.
When I was offered the opportunity by Amazon Vine to review The Bone Labyrinth however, I couldn’t resist the chance to find out whether Rollins had, by some miracle, managed to drag himself and his characters out of the creative rut they had become stuck in.
Unfortunately, and I have to say not surprisingly, the answer is that he and they haven’t. The Bone Labyrinth represents very much business as usual for both Rollins and Sigma. All the elements of the old formula are very much present, correct and tiresomely predictable.
So we have the usual cast of bland, all-American heroic-types. Even former-assassin Seichan has had her rougher edges smoothed off and gotten fully on-board with Sigma. There’s the standard archaeological discovery that kicks off a plot with world changing implications and leads to yet more scientific discoveries. There are the usual implausibly unpleasant bad-guys with aspirations to world domination. There’s much globe-trotting, taking in locations as diverse as Croatia, Ecuador and China. There are action sequences that defy the laws of logic, probability and physics. There are monsters and heavy chunks of pseudo-science to justify the former’s existence and the existence of all the discoveries made along the way. And it all ends in the collapse of not one but two hidden underground complexes as the heroes rush to escape and simultaneously save the day.
All of which could describe pretty much any of Rollins’ Sigma novels right back to the first, Sandstorm. Yes, there are some variations here and there. At least one new, minor character on the side of good who may possibly reoccur in future novels is introduced, but that’s been done by Rollins before with Tucker Wayne. The identity of the bad guys also marks a change, with the Chinese government taking on the role of protagonist rather than the standard fictional shadowy cabal or megalomaniacal industrialist.
Unfortunately Rollins decision to turn a very-real organisation into a bunch of sociopathic killers feels like a mistake from the get go. When the bad guys are entirely fictitious it’s easy enough to suspend disbelief and go along with the fact that they’d be willing to send teams of assassins to foreign countries and assassinate or kidnap scientists or soldiers to reach their goals. It’s less difficult believe that about the government of China, who whilst not morally unimpeachable aren’t generally in the business of destroying shrines in Italy, attacking archaeological expeditions or kidnapping American scientists just to get a small head start on a secret science project.
As result of Rollins unwise choice of enemy for Sigma to face I found myself struggling even more than usual to go along with any of the events occurring on the page. Rollin’s novels always have a pretty tenuous grip on plausibility, but they have generally managed to stay just the right side of the line of believability. In the early days they also benefitted from a combination of originality and sheer verve and pace of story-telling, all of which helped paper over the many cracks, such as lumpen dialogue and excessive use of lazy stylistic tricks like ending every chapter on an unnecessary cliff hanger.
With The Bone Labyrinth however, the stale, recycled plot and questionable narrative choices leaves all Rollin’s weaknesses as an author exposed, and the book with little to recommend it beyond nostalgia for earlier, more entertaining Sigma adventures.