Getting into a Genetic Jam with Relic

Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have characters play Russian roulette with reptilian and human genes, viruses, and addictive plant fibers, mixing them all into a literary blender, and spitting out a hugely entertaining genetic jam with their first novel, Relic, published twenty-six years ago.

Thanks to their backgrounds and/or extensive research, they create a credible story that begins with the mythical monster of an extinct Brazilian indigenous tribe but ends as a scientific monstrosity. Or does it?

The pair get an A+ for weaving together knowledge from discrete specialized fields, including physical anthropology, botany, genetics, evolution, computer science, public museum politics and administration, law enforcement, architecture, and medical forensics. 

Preston and Child write in what I will call a third-person, omniscient point-of-view, but a very soft omniscience. The tale is not told from the perspective of one character, unless that person is in a scene by himself or herself. The pair stock their story with an abundance of characters, so their points-of-view are all portrayed, but every now and then the narrators gives you a sense of what is going on in the character's mind or tell you what he or she is doing without reference to a particular character's viewpoint. Though many characters play significant roles and often appear together, I did not get any sense of head-hopping.

I thoroughly enjoyed Relic, but I don't think it possessed any suspense about whether or not the legend of the monster, Mbwun, was true. From the beginning, it was clear Mbwun existed, whatever the actual cause of its existence might be. On the other hand, waiting for the characters to realize what they were facing and finding a way to deal with the threat was quite suspenseful. Throwing in the politics of greed and massive security system failure added tons of authenticity and credibility to the story.

One thing I wanted to monitor was how Preston and Child finished their scenes or their chapters. I went beyond Knost's book, however, and took direction from James Scott Bell and his tome Plot and Structure, about which I am writing an essay for the craft book portion of the thesis project. Roughly, Bell enumerates about nine ways an author can end a chapter while providing what he calls "read-on prompts" that will propel the reader's interest to turn the page to the next chapter. Preston and Child use just about all of them.

For examples, chapter one ends with what appears to be the looming death of Whittlesey. Chapter two ends with an explosive killing and we must know what effect that will have on the story. Chapter three gives us a tangible sense of an impending disaster: We know the children are going to die but we must find out whether they actually did or not. Chapter five leaves a question hanging in the air: If the killer isn't an animal, then who or what is it? While we know what it is, we are anxious for the characters to find out what we know. Chapter 10 finishes with the discovery of a claw in one of the dead boys, the revelation of a secret that brings the characters closer to knowing and understanding what is killing people in their museum. Chapter 20 offers a bit of misdirection and leaves us wondering whether Ms. Margo Green, working on her doctorate, is about to be attacked from behind after she appeared to successfully exit a room in which the monster was chasing her. She slams the doors closed to the Hall of the Heavenlies, leans into them, eyes shut, and head pressed against the door when Preston and Child write: “From the crimson gloom behind her came the unmistakable sound of something clearing its throat.”

Did the monster exit another way and get behind her. Humans clear their throats, not monsters, yet Preston and Child wrote "something" cleared "its" throat. Have to turn that page to find out! 

Chapter 24 is an informational chapter used to alter the pace and tension. It does its job. Chapter 27 ends with a secret revealed. Chapter 38 gives us a sense of impending disaster or at least fear of a disaster when armed Special Agent Pendergast advances into the "dark heart" of the museum, looking for the killer we know is a beast. Chapter 44 gives us both a secret revealed (body found) and a sense of impending disaster (the beast will attack the museum-goers at the Superstition Exhibition). A major decision by Pendergast, Frock, and Margo completes the 52nd chapter as they decide to go ahead with their plan for the beast, and we don't yet know what that plan is. A mysterious line of dialogue finishes Chapter 53 while 54 offers us a question hanging in the air: who is the predator hunting now.

The story proceeds to the end and is completed by the denouement in Chapter 62 and a secret revealed in the Epilogue. The whole story finishes strongly, if I may use an adverb, and leaves us wondering whose interpretation of events is correct, Frock and Pendergast's or Kawakita's.

Preston and Child also create the theater in our minds with their imagery. This is just one example from page 70:

"He gripped the metal handrail tightly as he crept downward. In the basement, he made his way along the wall until he felt a long horizontal handle. He pushed, and frigid night air streamed in. He wedged open the door and lit up a joint, inhaling the bitter smoke with pleasure as he leaned out into the courtyard. A thin light from the deserted cloister beyond gave a pale illumination to his movements. The faint hum of passing traffic, muffled by so many intervening walls, passages, and parapets, seemed to come from another planet. He felt, with relief, the warm rush of the cannabis—another long night made bearable. Smoke finished, he flicked the roach into the dark, ran his fingers through his crew cut, stretched."

The reader gets visual, aural, nasal, and kinesthetic sensory information that make the experience like 3-D.

The only serious weakness might have been some of the actions Margo Green took in making a fuss over hand-delivering a copy of her work to Moriarty (whose naming provided a bit of misdirection, too). They stretched credibility a bit. All-in-all, though, Relic was a tasty bit of horror nectar that juiced my brain.