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April 29, 2004

Maslin Watch: But It's Not Science Fiction

by Ron Hogan

"This is a novel in which a theme-park technician whose forte is animatronic orangutans surreptitiously takes on the job of creating a fake bride."

I am not a fan of the book-reportish "This is a novel in which..." construction, but maybe Maslin's review of Thomas Berger's Adventures of the Artificial Woman gets better. Or not, the next sentence goes: "Popular culture is strewn with such soon-to-be-treacherous creatures, from HAL of 2001: A Space Odyssey to The Stepford Wives." Now, the Stepford connection is obvious, but you're left wondering what HAL 9000 has to do with fake brides, until you realize she's lumping them all together as "soon-to-be-treacherous creatures," but here's the thing: there's no clue in her lead that Berger's fake bride is "soon-to-be-treacherous," and the Stepford Wives were the very opposite of treacherous, which was rather the point. Well, I suppose maybe they were treacherous if you were Katharine Ross.

But Mr. Berger's version is friskier than most, even if his story also has a decidedly porcine angle.

Somebody may, perhaps, be subconsciously recalling a long-ago viewing of Weird Science, featuring Kelly LeBrock as the soon-to-be-treacherous Lisa and Bill Paxton as the decidedly porcine Chet. But on we go, through the plot synopsis and occasional commentary, until we get to:

Adventures of the Artificial Woman finds the author of Best Friends and Little Big Man in high spirits, and in a high-concept storytelling realm. Whatever its missteps, it manages to undertake a familiar form of satirical fantasy and come up with something new.

This "something new" is, from the sound of it, Philip K. Dick's We Can Build You with naughty bits and lame political satire. But since it's from a "real writer," it's not science fiction but a "high-concept storytelling realm," even though all Maslin's outside comparison points are science fiction films based on science fiction stories--no, wait, I think Levin was able to escape the ghetto, too, as I recall. This isn't the first time this year Maslin's given an author the opportunity to evade the science fiction label; back in January, she bailed out J.D. Robb: "[E]ven if it unfolds in the midst of household droids and futuristic technology, Divided in Death isn't really science fiction."

At this point, I've got to ask: What does it take to convince Janet Maslin a book is science fiction?

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