Customer Reviews

The Dream of Perpetual Motion (Playaway Adult Fiction)

5 star:		(13)
4 star:		(19)
3 star:		(9)
2 star:		(6)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Set in the early twentieth century, after "the age of miracles," Dexter Palmer's steampunk novel and the city of Xeroville teem with technology rooted in the knowledge of the day: mechanical men instead of robots; answering machines that record on drums of wax; flying cars that rattle; teaching helmets lowered by cables and operated by hand cranks; and a zeppelin powered by the first (seemingly) perpetual motion machine. Amid this, the narrator of Dexter Palmer's debut novel tells how he grew from a shy, awkward boy to a prisoner aboard the Chrysalis, high above the world he used to know.

Palmer holds this complex novel together with bits of philosophy, sly wit, and a narrative voice that pulls the reader along from start to finish. It's an eloquent and often playful tale about the tenuous boundaries between mechanization and humanity, between love and narcissism, between perfection and fatal flaws. The cast of characters have names right out of Shakespeare: Prospero, the most brilliant inventor of his time and Harold's nemesis; Miranda, Prospero's adopted and sheltered daughter who acts more mechanical than human; and mad genius Caliban, the monster of Prospero's inventiveness. But other allusions abound, with hints of Roald Dahl, Jules Verne, Neal Stephanson, and L. Frank Baum to make this not only a fascinating read but also one that can be read again and again.

This novel is one of the best books I've read in 2010, and it deserves a readership that ranges from steampunk fans to literary fiction readers. The novel offers such a rich array of characters, ideas, and imagery that reading it feels like eating an enormous, magical feast. Expect to be challenged -- and to have people ask why you're smiling as you delve into Palmer's highly inventive world.

-- Debbie Lee Wesselmann

I am reviewing a copy provided by the publisher.

Harold Winslow is prisoner aboard Prospero Taligent's Perpetual Motion Machine. In this luxuriantly mechanical 20th Century, Prospero is an inventor; his tin men and machines have taken over the world just as computers have done today. Harold's life is inundated with the noise of the city, the grinding and buzzing of a steady stream of mechanicals churning the city's economy, displacing the need for human labor like a universe evolved tangentially from the Industrial Revolution. Plagued with his lack of voice (in a world filled with them) he writes greeting cards to be the voice of others. But his is a story bombarded by distractions in which he discovers the many failures of communication and why sometimes what he thinks he wants, isn't what he wants at all.

I probably picked the wrong time to read The Dream of Perpetual Motion. It's definitely not the kind of book you can pick up and constantly put down expecting the read to go smoothly. Dexter Palmer's prose is dense and in many instances, poetic. There were a few times I worried that I hadn't been paying close enough attention and had missed some important narrative musing. Or that something crucial had just happened, but I'd lost the narrative thread by setting the book down. While I do blame my poor timing, I also think what Palmer was attempting with his narrative had something to do with it as well.

The Dream of Perpetual Motion is either one of the most intelligent and innovative books of this year, or it suffers from the weight of its own cleverness. Palmer clearly wanted the reader to walk away with an overwhelming sense of how many distractions Harold faced in his daily life, let alone in his adventure, to the point that it interfered with his ability to communicate effectively. More often than not the book is nothing but a collection of miscommunications, distractions piling on top of distractions--the Shrinkcabbie fiddling with the radio as Harold tries to relate his problems (the nature of the Shrinkcab--a brief interlude between locations--is conducive to Palmer's argument as well); Astrid having a one-sided conversation with Harold's Demon; Miranda's official Portraitmaker and Prospero teasing out long, frustrated and vague, half explanations for the next commission. The narrative itself is a complication of dream sequences and jumps in time and setting. There is no singular narrative thread that isn't interrupted in one way or another by each of the others. They all vie for attention, struggling as each attempts to be heard through the sometimes confusing narrative of perspective as we jump through time between different characters and mediums (letters, traditional prose, or diary entries).

There is a lot going on in this book, to say the least. If Palmer doesn't make his point about how technology is interfering with daily living (causing huge distractions that discourage simple communication between two individuals), then there is a commentary on souls and miracles, or the certainty that we immerse ourselves in illusions and fantasy that will inevitably fade when reality hits. An example of this is the greeting card offices where Harold works. The hallways and cubicles are decorated for Christmas in June as the employees develop the phrases for that year's holiday cards. Another would be the more consequential dilemma of the perfect moment: the one right before we get what we think we want because it is filled with possibilities. It is filled with our dreams.

To be fair, Harold does give us a warning within the first few pages of the book as he tells us this will be a "story of fragments" (p. 4). Thus, it will be given as an approximate imitation of the way technology relays information to us: in bits and pieces. If we think of this in terms of the internet, there is almost no escaping ads or the nature of the beast itself: the ability to switch between webpages or applications with a few clicks. True, eventually one article or whatever has taken a person's interest will be read and finished, but think of how often you have interrupted an e-mail or instant message by multi-tasking with another instant message, a comic strip, a YouTube video? Palmer's book is therefore relevant to what I believe was one of his ultimate intentions, even if difficult to navigate.

There is so much beautiful prose here, so much talent in the writing that I do feel best recommending this purely for an admiration of the craft. I also recommend it for the ideas Palmer presents on an academic level, but with the warning that those ideas tend to get overwhelmed by the presentation. It does not have an entirely linear narrative; readers expecting or wanting that would do best trying something else. Though, there are multiple layers that can be enjoyed in this book for readers willing to navigate his prose. His re-imagining of Shakespeare's The Tempest through Prospero, Miranda, and Caliban is there to be explored by fans of the play (Prospero is the penultimate wizard of creation; Miranda is objectified; Caliban is monstrously misled) as the characters exude a unique signature mixing Palmer's imagination and interpretation with the originals.

That being said, I don't think this is a book to be read solely for the characters. The Dream of Perpetual Motion is driven by ideas, not characters. It's a statement more than anything else, a deliberate contemplation of concepts disguised in the shroud of a steampunk adventure. Words are powerful, but only when they are heard. Only when we have the courage and temerity to disregard all distractions (and ironically, the technologies that are supposed to make communication easier), open our mouths, and speak to each other. And besides, who wouldn't want to read a book where Prospero is portrayed as a demented and tech-savvy Willy Wonka?

The Dream of Perpetual Motion, by Dexter Palmer, has a great opening. Past a poetic and ominous first few lines, we get the narrator telling us "If my reckoning of time is still accurate . . .the one year anniversary of my incarceration aboard . . . a high altitude zeppelin designed by that most prodigious and talented of twentieth-century inventors, Prospero Taligent. It has also been a year since I last opened my mouth to speak. To anyone. Especially my captor . . . because it is the one thing that she desires, and my silence is the only form of protest that remains to me."
Great image--that zeppelin flying up there. Great hook--why's he imprisoned up there, why's he not speaking, who is "she"? Great voice--formal, solemn. In short, great opening. Does the rest of the book live up to the start? Well, not frequently enough, to be honest, but still, it was often enough that I'd recommend Dream.

Our captive narrator is Harold Winslow, writer of greeting cards, lover of Miranda Taligent, cat's-paw of Prospero Taligent. The book veers between first and third-person narration, though all by Harold, who informs us of when the "he" becomes "I" along the way of his explaining how he first met Miranda and Prospero and how that led to his current predicament. The novel covers Harold's childhood (about 20 yrs. pre-present time), the jumps ahead a decade to his college years, where his sister becomes more of a focal point, then another jump in time closer to the present. The movement is all straightforward and easy to follow. Mixed into Harold's narration are a few other elements: newspaper excerpts, diary entries, a host of dreams, and the like. These, I thought, varied greatly in their effectiveness, and I wouldn't have been sorry to see a large number of them, especially the dreams, dropped in favor of a more streamlined book.
T
he characters varied as well, with most of them a bit distant; I can't say I cared much for any of them, actually, though I found several interesting enough to carry me through. Luckily, one of those was Henry. Prospero was probably the most compelling, though several of his hired hands (two at the start and three at the very end) give him a run for his money in that department. Harold, as mentioned, was interesting enough, Miranda less so unfortunately. Harold's sister was interesting in her role and premise; she could have been on stage a bit more; though without her critic friend, who seemed the most forced and clichéd character of the book.

The setting wasn't particularly sharp or fully there, but it had moments of brilliance, such as the "shrink-cab", whose drivers are trained psychiatrists so one can get therapy while on the way to or form work; and the mechanical men invented by Prospero (they, like Harold's sister, could have seen more book-time).

If the plot was solid enough and the character decent, though, where the book shined, and the main reason for recommending it, is its prose and narrative voice, which was consistently strong throughout the novel. Here, for instance, is the description of Harold's greeting card workplace at night:
And nightfall has come to the greeting card works.

The building is nearly silent. Most of the machines are resting, with only an occasional isolated whir or hum in the darkened corridors, Christmas tinsel rustles in the dark from stray drafts of ice-cold air-conditioned wind. The building's struts and columns contract with quiet creaks and pops in the coldness of night.
And now the mechanical men concealed in hatches and secret doorways come out by the hundreds, creeping on cat feet like burglars or mischievous sprites, carrying huge burlap sacks on their backs. Quietly, they remove the red and green and silver and gold decorations from the walls and ceilings, stuffing them into their bags, replacing them with red cardboard hearts with arrows drawn on them, and long twisting billowing strands of pink crepe.
And in a stuffy room in the basement . . . a dwarf . . . removes his elf costume, squeezes into a bright red pair of tights, and straps a pair of cardboard cherub's wings around his naked hairless chest with a belt. A quiver full of arrows completes the outfit. Christmas is over. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day.

That is an author in control of his voice and while that's a standout section, there are several equally as good and others that come close. There's also a wonderful theme of silence that runs through the story, as well as some thought-provoking conversations and monologues.

The passages makes up for a so-so plot that could have used some cutting, especially of some of the interludes and more-forced-feeling passages, as well as for the less-than-empathetic characters. Because of the sometimes problems with narrative and character, Dream of Perpetual Motion was not a fluidly enjoyable read, and once or twice I had to kick myself a bit to pick it back up, but it's worth a read on its own and certainly piques my interest as far as what the author will do for his second book with a bit more seasoning.

This book reads like a mental exercise designed to imagine what it would be like to write a book about nothing. In fact, it feels like that episode of Seinfeld when Jerry and George discuss creating a TV show about "nothing", only imagine it was a write and his editor.

---

GEORGE: See, this should be a show. This is the show.

JERRY: What?

GEORGE: This. Just talking.

JERRY: (dismissing) Yeah, right.

GEORGE: I'm really serious. I think that's a good idea.

JERRY: Just talking? Well what's the show about?

GEORGE: It's about nothing.

JERRY: No story?

GEORGE: No forget the story.

JERRY: You've got to have a story.

GEORGE: Who says you gotta have a story?

---

A book about nothing indeed. Reading this book was painful.

But let's assume that you're a masochist. In that case, if you can get past the boring characters, the contrived plot, the abysmal pacing, the drab world and the frustrating writing style, then I suppose you can finish this book.

But dear God why would you want to? There is so much better fiction out there, don't waste your time on this crap.

Here are some problems with this book, if you feel you need more details before choosing to read something else.

== Characters ==
The main character is not a hero. The main character isn't even an anti-hero. The main is one of those cardboard cutouts of a person that just gets transported different places so he can stand there and act indifferent. Let's be clear, he isn't stoic. He isn't "hard to read". The main character produces no useful emotional responses to anything. He does however whine for pages on end about how he wishes he could feel more emotion. Trust me, you don't care.

The other two main characters are a crazy, sheltered rich girl and her crazed inventor of a father. So, you have a princess and a mad scientist and the author manages to make both of them irritatingly hollow. The girl needs to be rescued because how else are we going to get the plot somewhat moving? The mad scientist is crazy because this wouldn't even be a story if he wasn't crazy. The characters in this book are so poorly written you will never confuse them with real people. Real people have motivations, emotions and desires. These characters have each been handed a fortune cookie and told "everything you need to know about your role is written on this slip of paper". This is one of the few books I've read in which I was actually rooting for some type of natural disaster to occur and kill everyone. When you reach the end of a book and you realize that you don't really care what happens to anyone, it's time to scratch this author off your list.

== Plot ==
The only thing that annoyed me more than the characters was what passes for a plot. <SPOILER ALERT> there is no plot </SPOILER ALERT>. Basically everything in the book is contrived by the mad scientist, up to and including the "big reveal" at the end. So, you would think having your entire life controlled, monitored and directed would upset the protagonist somewhat, right? Well, you would be wrong. He pretty much just trudges through the entire book with an attitude of "well, if I must, I guess I can" until he reaches the final confrontation with the antagonist. And how does it end? Slowly, painfully and with absolutely no purpose. That is the theme here, contrived pointless exercises. There are no "good guys", there are no "bad guys", there is no "conflict" there is no "resolution". It seems like something an art student would come up with to explain "man's indifference to man" or some other horse **** philosophy.

This isn't the worst book I've ever read, but it is amazingly bad. I finished it just to see if there was a ray of hope at the end, but sadly there wasn't. So do yourself a favor and go read something else.

It's actually really hard to describe this book. I VERY very highly recommend it. Strange and beautiful. Definitely in my top 5 of the past 2 years. I've let it sit for a month now before reviewing it, and it will definitely go in my re-read pile.

You can read other reviews for a plot synopsis. But I am NOT someone who thought I'd like a steampunk-scifi book. I like literary fiction, generally, but the title of this one intrigued me, so I thought I'd give it a try.

The basic ideas, prose, and writing style in the book is just beautiful though (I loved the discussion of silence. Made me really aware of all the sounds around me, even when things are "silent"). The plot layout is great, and the end left me thinking. Overall, I don't think I'd change a thing about it. The end got a bit weird with Miranda, but it kept me reading and ultimately made sense, I think. I'll definitely keep an eye out for Dexter Palmer.

WEll I have givin this book 3 tries and have barely made it to page 50..
Much like the plot that involved mechanical men and machines I feel the characters are too mechanical and robotic.
I have yet to feel invested into any one and find myself falling asleep or daydreaming while reading this book.

I do think the writer is very gifted and appreciate his gift of lyrical discriptions..

I just can feel no hook keeping me reading sadly, and have felt no desire to even make myself continue reading.
I may give it another go but for now it has suffered 3 strikes and I feel the need to move on.

Dexter Palmer has written down a dream, full of strange cuts from one scene to another, past to present to future all intertwined, bits and pieces winding around each other until it all slowly comes to focus ... almost ... and then suddenly you're awake and the book is finished.

I couldn't stop reading this book. I would want to. I would try to stop, to take a nap, try to digest what I just read, but I would just find myself staring at the ceiling, thinking about it until I would find myself sitting up again and reaching for the book, to continue reading.

How to describe it, though ... the main character is one Harold Winslow - an average boy (who will grow to be an average man) who gains the attention of a pair of men who work for Prospero Taligent at an amusement park and ends up getting himself invited to Miranda Taligent's 10th birthday party. Prospero is a genius, and an inventor, who has invented all types of things - such as mechanical men, who are taking over so many jobs and tasks in the world - and flying cars and other marvels in the world, bringing in the age of Machines and pushing away the age of Miracles. He took in Miranda as a baby and has adopted her and raised her as his own, but he has decided that she needs to be exposed to children of her own age.

At any rate, the birthday party is just the first of several circumstances in which Harold's and Miranda's lives will meet. And it all ends up in Prospero's zeppelin, where Harold composes his memoirs, accompanied by the sound of Miranda's voice and the cryogenically frozen corpse of Prospero.

This is a very odd book - I'll tell you no lies there. But I think you will probably like it, if this is the sort of thing you like - steampunk, that is; dystopian futures that are actually in the past (amusingly this is all set back in the early 1900s sometime - it's not exactly told us - just that it's the "early 20th century"), that sort of thing. The mixture of sly humour (and yes, Dexter Palmer, I saw your cameo there!) and outright horror and the strangeness ... it's oddly beautiful when seen overall. Give this one a try - I think you'll be amazed.

After buying Boneshaker, I kept getting recommendations for this book, probably because people who buy one steampunk book buy them all. This was a debut novel and it has problems - the protagonist is unlikable, some scenes are too clever by half, some scenes nothing happens at all, the characters do not change, too many dream sequences. The book isn't bad, but I've read so many good books this year that it comes off a bit sour. As an example: There's a scene towards the end where the main character runs into a character from earlier in the book who gets cut off getting a parking space by an old lady. He then keys her car, shoots her dog and then throws a vial of acid on her face. A vial of acid! It is explained in the story later why he has that, but come on! Scenes like this seem to be trying too hard to establish a spectacle without actually adding to the plot or character development. The scene is throwaway. Nothing happens to the main character, the acid wielder doesn't show up again. It is worthless.

The book actually gets legs in the final quarter where you meet some interesting characters but they only live for a scene or two. It could have been a compelling novella if reworked. I'd pass unless you really dig a soup of steampunk, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and The Tempest.

This book wasn't for me. I have read some steampunk novels like Boneshaker and Julian Comstock. Loved them both. This book? Not so much. I generally don't like books written in the first person, and I really don't like books that don't appear to have an interesting plot. This book had these two strikes against it. I read fiction for a fun ride; this book never caught my interest or attention. The critics are totally wrong. Save your money.

I finished this book five days ago and still cannot quite figure out how I feel about it. I've written and deleted things three times now.

It's not what I expected- the cover promised an airship (which was provided, sure enough), mechanical men (ditto) and an alternate, Steampunk-ish history (once again, provided). I expected adventure from this, but this was not provided.

It's not an adventure novel at all; it's part reworking of `The Tempest', part philosophy, and part sociology all with a thin skin of sci-fi over it. Set in the early 1900s, protagonist (I cannot call him a hero) Harold Winslow is trapped in an airship powered by a supposed perpetual motion machine, his only fellow passengers are mechanical men, the corpse of Prospero Taligent, and the disembodied voice of Miranda Taligent. Prospero Taligent was the crazed genius who invented the mechanical men that changed society, along with many other technological wonders. He was also obsessed with keeping his adopted daughter Miranda a pure child instead of allowing her to grow up, going so far as to bind down her breasts and keep her from almost all human contact.

Chance intervenes and Winslow is invited to Miranda's 10th birthday party; for whatever reason Taligent decides that Winslow would be an appropriate companion for Miranda. This decision is quickly changed when he thinks the two children have been having sex. Miranda and Winslow do not see each other for 10 years, when Winslow is forced into rescuing her. Then another 10 years passes before he is asked to rescue her again... despite their relationship supposing to be the core of the story, they really have no real relationship.

None of the characters are very likable. Miranda comes closest to being someone that a reader can sympathize with, but she, like Winslow, seems to have no interests, no passions, no motivating force. The story drags on, seeming to take much longer to tell than it should have.

And yet I could not stop reading it. There are some passages that are so beautifully written that they are like dreams. Yes, some of those dreams are terrifying (in particular the way Winslow's artist sister, Astrid, dies), but they are still mesmerizing.

My final decision? There is a great core of work here, but it could have used some editing.