Calypso

by Oliver K. Langmead

P-Date: 2024

Genre: SciFi

Review: Is it ok that I don’t get it? A story line that is bereft of empathy, inter-change, emotion, and communication makes for inventive writing but leaves the reader empty. Emotionally wilted, our MC does not even question her surroundings and the circumstances in which she finds herself. Her motivations are purely self-centered as evidenced by her constant self-recrimination. Maybe that is natural but within this inner conflagration she will suddenly go to a moon or go to a planet and allow weird shjt to happen and then it is never given any thought again. It is like she is in a constant state of short-term memory loss.

The writer creates for themselves a menagerie of prose that is supposed to be creative/clever. In application this prose or poetical writing is perhaps intentionally vacant in hopes that it adds tension. What it really does is annoy this reader. Nothing connects. Not the dialogue, not the scenes, not the instances of exchange between people and definitely not the science part of fiction.

This is a novel of what could have been. Character exchanges were stilted and bland. Saying one word responses to serious questions does not make the scene pivotal. It is intentionally vague to mask the lack of effort it takes to weave some mystery into the work. In short, I just got angrier with every page turned.

I know I am the lone outcast not exhibiting gushing praise because I need to show everyone how connected and hip I am in understanding “eco-prose” and “lyrical” this and that while promoting drivel.

At any rate, I dug a hole for this book and buried a dead racoon on top of it.

Rating: 1.5/5