This is the book that I read for my Sci-Fi Fantasy Book Club meeting tomorrow night (June 12, 2012). I believe it was selected because it is based mostly near Baton Rouge, Louisiana. This would have been a great pure science fiction book, but, alas, the author chose to throw native color and sex and such into the book, which does not make it a simply bad book, but bad in wondrous new and terrifying ways.
First, as to the science fiction: all of the garbage of early 21st century America east of the Rocky Mountains and west of the Appalachians eventually gets washed down the Mississippi River – all of the pieces from electronic dodads, all the flushed-away prescriptions, all the toxic chemicals from landfills and industry – everything. The book’s core is that some of this stuff, eddied and cooking in the Louisiana sunshine, brewed up a sentient colloid that eats metal and emits pure water as a byproduct.
As to the people involved, we have one C. J. Reilly, a gorgeous erratic woman who is one dissertation short of her MIT doctorate and her current boyfriend, creole zyedeco musician Max Pottevents. They are working as scutworkers for Quimicron, a chemical plant located north of the Huey P. Long Bridge, cleaning up a toulene spill in Devil’s Swamp. The pair discover this colloid in a pond (it’s early March, and the pond is a sheet of ice), and Reilly quickly uses her chemist smarts to determine that this is something new to science that is way cool. However, the smoldering Brazilian CEO of Quimicron, one Roman Sacony, only wants this colloid destroyed, especially after it eats a few barges once it gets into the canal that connects Devil’s Swamp to the Mississippi River. Apparently everyone who works at Quimicron is Creole, and speak in a weird patois; and once word of this colloid leaks out, all of the workers begin whispering about Djab Dile and speculating on links with Baron Samedi. If the idea that everyone in and around Baton Rouge is apparently just-off-the-boat-from-Haiti Creole isn’t bad enough, the author has a way with words that would grant her a failing grade in any English composition class. She uses the word “drool” at least three times, and never as one would expect (“a stack of old batteries drooled ashy globs of corrosion”) and my favorite bad line is “Then she opened three sticks of cherry-flavored gum, stuffed them in her mouth, and masticated.” (And I haven’t even mentioned the sex scenes yet, and I don’t plan to.)
This was a bad book (which will probably eventually end up as a hit movie), but at least I will have great fun ripping the book apart at the book club meeting tomorrow night.