CURE, a massive private paramilitary organization, has replaced the police force in all major cities. The general public is fully armed. The population of cockroaches has exploded.
In this world lives Palazzo, an entomophobic pacifist (and his cat, Larry). His goal is simple and yet impossible: maintain a shred of sanity as society erodes around him. Human empathy is on the decline. CURE s influence expands rapidly into all aspects of daily life. If he listens closely enough, it seems as though the sky is screaming.
Palazzo learns that his neighbor is a member of a clandestine group that call themselves Unarmed Citizens. He attends a meeting, setting into motion a series of events that will put him in the incredible position to change CURE and therefore society from the inside out.
Terrific, horrific vision of the future which seems all too probable. I couldn't put it down. A very timely tale of a man yearning for the single version of the Truth in a world gone mad.
Very astute dystopia about the zeitgeist, even as it forcefully jabs thick 'cockroach' and 'unarmed/paramilitary' points. Barsotti's prose seems pretty workmanlike and MFA-glitzed usually, with some ratatat tricks over an already-clearly-decided mood, but I guess that's supposed to be part of the charm. Our hero is of course a pacifist in a violence-choked hell, surreal moments interspersing the general grayness, and of course he's let into a conspiracy: Unarmed Citizens. In our age of politically-accepted alt-right shadow jackasses screaming lies, the dread that America is actually becoming exactly like this booked-about dystopia (spazzy paramilitary gun nuts, a loud and sick post-truth always-on internets, etc.) is juxtaposed with quainter Blade Runner, Robocop, Idiocracy, Videodrome queer angst. Angst isn't generally 'quaint', though? I guess it depends what the angst's about!
I appreciate that the government, or at least some swooping external force, doesn't seem the source of the dystopia: it's just the plain rashness and thickness and ugliness of each individual. Not just deep down in subtext, but right there on the surface. There are some itchy stream-of-consciousness run-on scripts to show us what the internets became -- weak comment, disagreement, shrill and off-base comment, accusation of weakness, threat of murder, etc. -- that would probably instantly fall unsuccessful, unconvincing. But that's what internets is, boom. Every discussion ends in a flat "I'm gonna kill you [period]" and everything is spelled absurdly wrong because no one cares about their spelling not seeming absurd. Right? I wouldn't know at all, but I guess it's fine to guess.
Similarly, our central character seems not inauthentic, apart from a few plot-happy moves (like staying loyal to a Long Goodbye-esque cat, or finding romance with some tough girls, etc.). He doesn't charge in with the perfect thing or hang back with the meaningfully imperfect thing, but stays mostly in the middle. Pacifism and indecision as good things, on the hero's end? Cagey. Ok. *100 emoji in red and underlined twice* Barsotti plays his end pretty loud, and its softness is surprising given how abrasive most of the book is that came before.
Scott Barsotti's vision of the near future is as disturbing as it is believable. I was utterly engrossed from the first time I picked up the book. The one small quibble I can offer is that the end felt slightly rushed, but as there is no 4.75 star rating, I feel the 5 stars are well deserved.
An impressive piece of work and doubly so for a first novel. I very much look forward to seeing what Mr. Barscotti has in store for us in the future.
I like his writing style. Did a good job of taking current tendencies and extrapolating them to extremes. Was disappointed the end seemed a bit rushed and the things that became apparent in the last 30 pages weren't explored more in depth.
I read Scott's book when it was first released. Though years have passed, it regularly creeps back into my consciousness. His vision of a dystopian future is such a spot-on extrapolation of where we're going that it has actually grown more relevant since publication.
The book evokes the influence of both Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (there's a whimsical element to the prose; a certain intentional absurdity that really drives home the absurdity of the reality he depicts, which is disturbingly close to becoming our actual reality) and Philip K. Dick (I won't give away what makes this book Dickian, but the payoff is very much evocative of his works and I found it intellectually and narratively satisfying).
"Single Version" is a brilliant work. It stands up next to some of the best science fiction in the canon, and I think it deserves much wider acclaim. I don't promote many things because I think most things are dreck. It's not my style to try and make people see what I think should be readily obvious to them. Yet, I proselytize for this novel.
I think it's a vital work that everyone should read. If I were still teaching high school, I'd assign it to my students. I've given copies of it to people (I ordered a bunch in support of his campaign to be published (he and I don't know each other from Adam)), and I don't expect that I'll ever stop talking about it to anyone who will listen. Do yourself a favor and buy it. Or at least read it.
If you take the rhythmic prose and musical structure of Chuck Palanhiuk and apply it to the darkest, most dire speculations from Paolo Bacigalupi or William Gibson, you get SINGLE VERSION by Scott T. Barsotti.
SINGLE VERSION is a near-future dystopic nightmare that could be taking place in the same universe as Children of Men or Blade Runner. It envisions a world in which mankind hasn't so much gone bad as they have given up the effort of being human. Everyone, EVERYONE, is armed, because going about otherwise is incomprehensible. Things fall apart, the center cannot hold. And also there is something up with the cockroaches. They are literally everywhere.
In this world is a small handful of people who haven't yet given up the struggle, and risk being ostracized, arrested, or made another victim of "justified" homicide just by going out unarmed.
This book is relentless and bleak, but it moves at a terrific pace and pulls you along with it. And the ending is outlandish enough that either there might be a shred of hope for humanity there, or it's possible it's a Brazil-like twist, but which one depends on what would make it a better story for you.
An intensely well-written vision of humanity's decline at the hands of an insidious paramilitary organization, internet hoax videos, and cockroaches, and also a meditation on empathy that digs in and won't let go. Not the easiest story to read in current times, but that's why we should all read it anyway.
This book is wonderful. And horrible. (I mean that in the best possible way). And even moreso if you read it while traveling through the streets of Chicago on public transit. Also, LARRY.