The Water Knife

Excess graphic violence.

wow. the writing is at times artless and sometimes shockingly gory, but the story and the POV characters are so on point. I tore through it, glad I read this. a great book for our present climate, politically and environmentally, and IMHO a worthy follow up to THE WIND-UP GIRL and THE DROWNED WORLD.

Not usually into sci-fi action, but this was a good read. Hard to get into at first because you get thrown into the story without a ton of exposition, but once you meet everyone it’s engaging, fast paced and tells an important story about our potential future if water use isn’t considered. Did want a more satisfying ending.

This should be required reading. Bacigalupi shows us our not-too-distant future and it isn't pretty, yet the book is a page turner. Bravo!

An interesting book; thrilling, bloody, philosophical.

I reviewed this on my blog (in two posts: first half, second half), so will share those reactions here. First half I’m 52% of the way into Bacigalupi’s near-future science fiction novel The Water Knife, and wanted to share some notes for our online reading/book club. (Relevant posts on this blog are tagged waterknife) First, quick and general reactions with an eye on futurism. Second, notes from a lit crit perspective. Third, onward. I’ll try to avoid spoilers. I: General reactions Quick summary: Water Knife takes place in the American southwest, principally the Las Vegas-Phoenix area, in a near future devastated by drought. We follow three main characters: Angel, the titular water knife, a former thug and current fixer for a Las Vegas water baroness; Lucy, a journalist covering water and crime; Maria, a Texan climate refugee. It’s a detailed and grim world. “Big Daddy Drought” (8) has knocked America down from its superpower perch, as social collapse to varying degrees gnaws at major states and cities and China looms ever-larger as an advanced and philanthropic power. Violence, disease (60, 178), inequality, and corruption are rife as American lurches towards becoming a narcostate (104). Militias (79) and crooked cops ride herd over climate refugees, including faith-based Merry Perrys (a reference to former Texas governor Perry, I bet). Some is based solidly on today’s world, like the Central Arizona Project (CAP) and the “third straw” to Las Vegas (thanks to Alan Levine). The world continues to provide advanced technologies. On the digital front we see phones with multiple and hidden operating systems (100), cryptocurrency (68, 113), augmented reality (“military glass”, 51), and social media that seems to have swallowed up journalism. Other technologies appear, including just-in-time building construction, effective solar power (69), and a cheap plastic bag for recycling urine into drinkable water, the ClearSac (73). Bacigalupi knits those characters and the world to hit several major themes. Ecosystems, unsurprisingly, appear everywhere, from detailed descriptions of water systems (183, for example) to the human predator-prey arrangement. Belief is a big one, between the worship of La Santa Muerte and faith-based climate denialism. Gender and sexuality appear, but in a retrograde fashion for 2016 readers, with men largely brutes and women all too often either victims or prostitutes. History looms large for a book about the future, as characters remind us that people could have avoided this situation (Cadillac Desert appears twice so far), or compare the plot’s present to their past – i.e., our present. II: A lit prof’s notes Details that catch my lit prof’s eye: The first page crams in a ton of hints for the book to come. It hits us with labor, violence, Latino culture (both the Spanish language and Santa Muerte), and migration. Leading with sweat brings to mind exertion and ecology. The style is fast paced, with some interesting features. We get neologisms and new slang, as is classic with science fiction: icy (for cool), wet (for ignorant; ironically applied to American migrants), fivers (wealthy people). Dollops of Spanish and, to a lesser degree, Chinese show the impact of two social changes. There’s a good amount of noir bitterness:“Somebody’s got to bleed if anybody’s going to drink.” “You sound like a Catholic.”(162) Or: “Thick mud walls and personal solar panels heavily chained to the roof, looking like mental patients in danger of escape.” (152) And some nice syntactic moments, where you have to read between the lines:“Just because you’re Case’s pet doesn’t mean I can’t make your life miserable.” Angel didn’t look up from the injunctions. “Just because you’re Case’s dog don’t mean I can’t toss you off this bridge.” The seals and stamps on the injunctions all looked like they were in order. “What have you got on Case that makes you so untouchable?” Braxton asked.(4) Imagine Braxton’s face while Angel focuses on those seals and stamps, and as he changes tack. More on names: “water knife” recalls “blade runner”, at least for me, with the full range of Phil Dick (inhuman humans, powerful religion) and William S. Burroughs (drugs, bad cops, violence, scary authorities). The other names are pretty programmatic. “Angel” is a bit on the nose for a protagonist, not helped by seeing himself as a devil (18) and having Saint Death tattooed on his back. Lucy made me think of Dracula‘s Lucy Westenra, with “Lucy” drawing from “light”, and the threat of the light going out of the West. I was correct, as we get this a few paragraphs after meeting her:The light going out of the world. Lucy thought she’d read that somewhere— some old Christian thing. The death of Jesus, maybe. The light going out, forever. Jesus blows out, and La Santa Muerte blows in. (20) And Maria, well, gets to be Mary. She’s a refugee and the major victim so far. I expect to see her acting as mother or redeemer. Is this novel a dystopia? I don’t think so. It’s semi-apocalyptic, that word appearing at least ten times, plus serving as a popular brand. I was surprised at the amount of horror. We get body parts, animals attacking people, people trapped under dead bodies (ex: 188). It’s mostly drawn from crime, but Bacigalupi isn’t shy about touching some horror tropes. III: onwards! While reading I paid more attention to certain news stories, like this National Geographic article about global trends in water depletion. I also drank more water, I think. The publisher has a discussion page (thanks to Joe Murphy). Overall, I’m fascinated and caught up. Can’t wait to read more. Second half Now the novel becomes a full-on thriller, with chases, escapes, sex, betrayals, shoot-outs, encryption and decryption, torture, a macguffin. Angel, Lucy, and Maria remain the main characters. I have to admit to losing my engagement with the book for some of this. The world-building and politics dwindled here. Some of the action became implausible (one character admits as much on 304), which reduced my investment. World-building slows down, although we learn some more details, like the fact that at some point between our time and the novel’s “the Cartel States too control [of Mexico] completely” (199) Wearable computing makes more appearances (“data glasses”: 200, 286). We get a clearer sense of Johnnytrucks as mobile composting stations (261). Medical science allows consumer-grade organ grafts (320) and portable tissue regrowth (341). And there’s a hilarious image of an ancient Britney Spears (320). There are some nicely condensed, even cinematic glimpses:A night market had sprung up around the pump. Tiny solar lanterns dangled like fireflies over men and women as they wrapped burritos and pupusas and soft tacos in the newsprint of the blood rags. (255) Lit prof notes: Some of the over-the-top symbolism continues, as “Angel” muses about being “the Devil” (201, for example). The city of Phoenix as the mythic bird also returns. Other names matter even more (see below). Gender roles remain in traditional forms, with men acting as gunfighters and women as hostages or nurses or torture victims, all too often. One wounded male sees a helping women (and sexual partner) as his mother (317). The end tweaks this in a noir direction, though (see below). Themes and tropes signaled on the first page (labor, violence, Latino culture (both the Spanish language and Santa Muerte), migration) continue right through the end. Plata o plomo (silver or lead; payment or bullets) returns as a theme (185). Other themes: ecosystems, both ecological and human, persist. History increases in importance, from Cadillac Desert to, well, the end. Phoenix by moominsean Now, if you haven’t finished the book, but would like to comment, just scroll to the end of this post and go ahead. 2: The end! with spoilers Seriously, if you don’t want to know about the second half, stop here.(view spoiler)[ OK: in this part of the novel Bacigalupi ratchets up the tension with news disasters, as dams break, cities burn, and civil disorders break out. California emerges as the most powerful villain, as Steven Kaye notes. But the final move, a far quieter act of violence, is the real kicker. It’s not a surprise ending per se, but an ultimate twist that reframes the book’s themes and implications, especially for readers thinking about the future. The climax is a standoff between Angel and Lucy over the control and use of crucial documents. Lucy wants to give them to the city of Phoenix, in order to restore its water and therefore communal life. Angel wants to take them to his estranged boss, in order to get back into her good graces. If Lucy wins, the world could take a step forward, warding off disaster and spreading a spirit of communalism. And then Maria blows it up. While Angel and Lucy argue and scheme, Maria weighs her options… then shoots Lucy. Now she is in charge, and solves the crisis, and shapes the future. Maria, the mother, will mother the future. Is that an exaggeration, a lit prof’s overreading? No. The crucial bit, and maybe the most important passage of the book, is about how Maria sees the other characters. Listen closely as she describes Lucy by way of explanation to Angel:“She had old eyes,” Maria said. “My dad had that problem, too… “She thinks the world is supposed to be one way, but it’s not. It’s already changed. And she can’t see it, ’cause she only sees how it used to be. Before. When things were old.” (369) For Maria Lucy is the past. Lucy’s plans are therefore unrealistic. Lucy represents the novel’s recent history (our near future), while forward-looking and much younger Maria is the novel’s future. For badly-suffering Maria, Lucy’s desires are useless to both herself and the world. Instead of saving the world, Lucy and Angel will head to Las Vegas, the city of crime, power, and betrayal, to link up with a powerful player, instead of turning to Phoenix and redemption for both themselves and society. Lucy’s light (remember her name’s meaning) dims. Angel is neither a saving angel nor destroying devil; they have both been superceded. The last lines of the book reflect this, being about Maria feeling good, seeing the future she shaped “becoming real.” This is a stark condemnation of older generations and their ability to grasp the future – a point hopefully not lost on contemporary readers. Perhaps this chimes in with the negative view of writing in the book. Maria’s action as a futures move has been hinted at earlier, when Lucy wonders about the future. She fantasizes about future archaeologists looking at her time, then leaps ahead:Maybe in a thousand years everyone would be living underground or in arcologies, with only their greenhouses touching the surface, all their moisture carefully collected and held. Maybe in a thousand years humanity would become a burrowing species, safely tucked underground for survival – “There’s our man.” Angel pointed. (347) Lucy here lives up to her name as illuminator. But Lucy is at best a creature of the present, not the future. She can imagine, but not act. She recedes into the past, leaving the next world to Maria. Because of this final scene, Water Knife has interesting status as a work of near-future science fiction. It takes us from our present (book published in 2015) to sometime roughly a generation hence (recall Britney Spears as a grandmother), then concludes by pointing to the next generation. That’s a generation marked not by a sense of crisis and decay (that’s Lucy and Angel), but by collapse and savagery (Maria; recall her repeated traumas and mutilations). Bacigalupi’s world is heading into a darker dystopia, mothering a Mad Max future. I admire this as a work of fiction. Instead of freezing its frame, the novel is now set into the full arc of time, transmitting from past through its present and into another future. This conclusion also messes with some readers, as the text positioned Lucy and Angel as powerful actors, while Maria has been largely a victim. Seeing the latter assert herself is a narrative surprise. It also gives us much to think about in terms of near-future events. Not only does it ask us to imagine what happens next, but what follows after that as a result. We have to imagine the people involved, *then* their children and successors. Wise and powerful advice for futurists. Let me conclude with a few notes on gender roles. The final standoff ends in noir fashion, with one heroine acting decisively, egotistically, and betraying other people for her own benefit. Maria uses Angel, and badly hurts Lucy. We get a straight-up gender reversal when Angel “cradle[s]” Lucy, “making shushing noises to her, as if she were a little baby.” (367) One male character (Toomie) acts against the macho stereotype, first by shunning violence, then by offering a “we’re all in this together” speech, urging self-sacrifice and communal awareness (248). Interestingly, this ultimately fails. So does the book end with traditional gender roles reversed or destabilized? (hide spoiler)] Overall, recommended.

Who the fuck is Paolo Bacigalupi to write so well?! I didn't like this book as much as The Windup Girl, but that's a high high bar. And this book was still an excellent gripping read.