Eden Green is a blend of sci-fi and horror by Fiona Van
Dahl. It begins with the concept of a parasite, one which will merge with and
regenerate its host. Functional immortality and heroic endurance are perks. Of course,
these things come with a price. There’s also the question of where the parasite
came from, and what this means to both the protagonist and to humanity as a
whole.
There’s some really interesting ideas in Eden Green. The
idea of a symbiont that works to regenerate its host is intriguing. It allows
exploration of a couple of themes – most immediately, that of power. When an
individual has seemingly superhuman strength, and can recover from repeated
mortal wounds, then what does that do to the individual? How do they cope, in a
world where they are something other than normal? It’s a theme that has been
explored elsewhere, but Eden Green approaches these questions unflinchingly,
and with a degree of nuance which was enjoyable to see on the page.
It also approaches the question of identity. As an
individual is regenerated by their symbiont, the question arises of whether
they are, in fact, human any longer. The role of identity is touched on, and
the author isn’t afraid to examine the effects of a changing or even lost sense
of self. The actions of the symbiont prove an excellent way to do this, and the
interactions between characters as they attempt to resolve who they are, who
they think they are, and what defines them as, well, themselves, is an
interesting read.
The first section of the book revolves around the
protagonist, Eden Green, as she’s drawn into the world of the symbiont, and the
creatures that inhabit that world. The author sketches Green well – a focused,
rational individual, with a penchant for logic and lists, and a genuine sense
of caring for her friend. Her supporting cast includes the aforesaid friend,
and a mysterious individual who first provided that friend with the symbiont.
Eden’s chum is also well done – a scatty trouble-magnet, with the ability to
make extremely dubious decisions, usually for all the wrong reasons. I was
quickly joining our protagonist in sighing in frustration at her friend when
she appeared on the page and did something incredibly, but plausibly,
unfortunately, wrong. The third of this band, the mysterious stranger, I didn’t
enjoy as much initially. There’s a sense of power there, certainly, and
something of danger, but the character doesn’t quite work in that mould – their
dialogue a tad disjointed, their actions not tied together with quite enough
narrative rope. On the other hand, there’s some excellent notes of genuine
menace there – the character seemed like a solid base, which needed a bit more
building up to have the narrative impact required.
As the book progresses, all three of this central core of
characters change – the degree of change depending somewhat on the narrative. I
give credit to the author for trying something ambitious, showing us the
descent of individuals, and the way that they alter as their perceptions of
themselves shifts. I think the sense of confusion that laces the text is a
great way to convey this mood, but also that the reader could use a few more
signposts, even if the characters don’t get to see them – some later segments
felt a little scattershot, and I was trying to figure out what was going on as
much as Eden. Maybe this is intentional, but I think a little more signposting
would have helped the flow of the text.
Plot-wise – there’s some excellent sections here. Eden’s
initial encounters with her friend, and with the creatures that seem to be
involved with the symbiont, are deliberate, well paced, and explode
occasionally in compulsive action sequences. As the scope of the text broadens,
the narrative momentum seems to be lost a tad – there’s a middle section which
has ramifications for the narrative, but seems either longer or shorter than it
needs to be. The author does well at evoking the sense of the human and the
alien internally – and the city our protagonist lives in is drawn with enough
detail to feel real, but it, and other environments, could use a little more
texture in order to make them come alive.
Is it worth reading? I’d say so. There’s some intriguing
thoughts in here, ideas about humanity, about what makes us who and what we
are, which are worth pursuing. I a little more polishing - and in some
instances a cleaner narrative structure – would do wonders for the text, but
right now, it’s an interesting, emotionally punishing read, with some
interesting things to say.
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