Book review of “The Adjacent” by Christopher Priest

By Brent McKnight | Updated 14 seconds ago

Christopher Priest (The prestige) Science fiction novel The outbuilding is a frustrating book. The first two thirds are still full on. The writing is fantastic, the story is vague but in an intriguing way, and an unusual structure, pace and tone make for an entertaining, exciting read. But then it goes off the rails, and badly. Although most of the book is one of the better ones I’ve read, the denouement made me so angry that I can’t possibly recommend this, on the whole, very good book.

The outbuilding The narrative jumps back and forth between the near future, World War I, and the present. Although they are only explicitly connected by the tenuousest of threads, these threads are thematically linked. Each is a compelling story in its own right, but also as part of a larger whole.

With novels that jump back and forth like this, there is often a danger that one story will take precedence over the others and remain the focus until you want to skim over the others to return to the path you like best. Priest does a good job of preventing this in The outbuildingPut the pieces together to form a mosaic and no matter where you jump, you’ll be equally immersed.

In the future, a photographer encounters a shocking new weapon in various scenarios. During the war, a young pilot falls in love with a mysterious woman, while a stage magician is sent to the Western Front on a strange, secret mission.

In the present day, a theoretical physicist discovers a way to redirect and manipulate matter that will have devastating consequences, forcing him into isolation and a state almost reminiscent of a hermit.

In The outbuildingThere is an overarching sense of mystery, and Priest is particularly adept at world-building in the future, creating a setting that is full of echoes of an Orwellian religious dystopia without ever making it clear what he is doing.

The outbuilding Details that make it seem real and concrete are woven naturally into the narrative, which never feels intrusive and doesn’t rely on huge amounts of information to get its point across. Much is left for you to deduce and invent on your own, and you are trusted to untangle the web.

Then The outbuilding drives into a wall. At full speed.

With about 100 pages remaining The outbuildingthe story jumps into a new world, a sort of pseudo-fantasy world filled with characters that resemble amnesiac versions of the characters you’ve met in previous chapters. Any momentum comes to an abrupt halt.

Why would you interrupt the story as you’re building toward the climax and insert a whole new place and time? You start from the beginning, with an introduction, and lay all the groundwork for that new place, including information that doesn’t serve the story in any way.

You don’t need to know anything about the feudal logistics of the five ruling families of a fictional island nation. It has absolutely no significance or impact on the story.

This is the only time that priests The outbuilding The prose is bloated and unnecessary. In the past, characters and plot would get you through, but here it’s the opposite. You’re overwhelmed by a flood of facts and figures and minor details that you don’t need and that add nothing. I can’t begin to explain how frustrating and infuriating this step is. Pure anger was the only thing that got me through this section.

So much of The outbuilding is beautifully written, with beautiful language and precise, methodical plotting. However, despite all the positive elements and a last-minute attempt to fix everything that fails to save the situation, I was left with such a bitter aftertaste that that is all that comes to mind when I think of this novel.