I abandon my laboured song-inspired post titles, at last, because I’m also abandoning Matthew Reilly’s Seven Ancient Wonders. At least for the time being. I will now provide minor justifications for this drastic action, in case all the others weren’t reason enough.
Super-
Adding the word “super” to other words doesn’t make them super. It makes the author sound like a child. Knowing he isn’t one, it makes the author sound like a dick. When that inlet was described as having super-deep walls I wanted to slap Reilly silly. There are other examples. The final straw was his describing the armour-piercing bullets as being “super-lethal” – fuck me. Good thing he didn’t go into advertising. “Don’t settle for more – have extra-more.” This is pathetic writing on a piddling-small scale.
Interestingly, however
Throughout the book (okay, okay, the first half anyway) Reilly punctures his text with sentences starting Interestingly comma, or Curiously comma. However comma. “Fine, comma, whatever” says I. In the third chapter, several characters are sat around a table waiting for that vital meeting and one starts reading a briefing kit entitled “The Golden Capstone”. Guess which words, which phrase structures, feature. Reilly has only one narrative voice – even a text within his narrative employs the same voice.
He – he just – he can’t – he – he. It’s. I mean.
If you asked Matthew Reilly to write a shopping list, would it read like one of his novels?
That, of course, is a rhetorical question.
The god-damned mother-fucking Italics
I didn’t mention this in the previous post, but the following truly is the reason why I’m calling a halt and moving on. I’ve made the point about Reilly’s spectacular misuse of italics already. However, comma, in The Battle Of Guantanamo Bay chapter the big stupid stealth jumbo jet makes its landing on an unusual improvised airstrip. After describing Gitmo’s wiry horrors, Reilly concludes:
It is a forbidding installation, one of the bleakest places on Earth.
And yet after all that, only 500 metres from the Camp’s outermost razor-wire fence is something you would find only in an American military base: a golf course.
It’s that golf course they land on, naturally. Now, I know what Reilly means. I know he doesn’t mean to suggest that all of Scotland is one massive US military base, even though you can’t turn left there without someone screaming Fore in the distance. He means to say not that golf-courses are only found on military bases, but that they are –
…something you would only find in an American military base…
– thus, by italicising, emphasising an essential difference between US and Non-US combat facilities. So, after littering his writing with misplaced, misinformational italics, when he actually needs to use them… he doesn’t. I would have more sympathy if, due to carpal tunnel syndrome, his little finger kept dropping on the Shift key and half the novel was in block capitals – but italics have to be used by conscious choice. Reilly goes out of his way to call his own consciousness into question.
Yes, I admit it, I’m still just having some fun at the guy’s expense, but there are proper reasons why I feel a longing for something that (comparatively) soars to the levels of quality demonstrated by Dan Brown – even, to a lesser extent, good old Clive Cussler. My feelings about both of them are well documented here, their many dire failures of characterisation, plotting and prose – but at least they demonstrate the barest bones of what it takes to be a writer. Matthew Reilly has set a benchmark for inability that would turn away even the most flexible of literary limbo dancers.
In a way I feel admiration for him. Reilly has achieved what I and many other amateurs can only dream of – he writes for a living, and what he writes is read by many. In a much greater way, though, I feel contempt. He can put words on a page and he can tell a story, but only in the most superficial of ways. This happened and this happened and this happened and this happened. Often with exclamation marks, onomatopoeia and unnecessary swearing! Twat! Shit! Boof! This happened!
A large proportion of this contempt I feel is reserved for Pan Macmillan, or Macmillan, or whatever they want to be called – how can a publisher possibly consider this worthy of release? I presume they open manuscripts before acceptance, and in what I’ve actually read of 7AW there has been only one spelling error for example – but no competent editor can have assessed this and not found it horribly wanting. The comedy exploding of this pamphlet to book proportions is the final cynical cherry on the turd trifle – take my last paragraph and hit carriage return three times before every capital letter to complete the picture. It stinks of fear, either on his part or that of Pan McDonald’s, that some of Reilly’s fans might realise they are paying too much money for too little ink.
That there is a fan base out there to worry over is dismaying in itself. Reilly’s success far outstrips his skill – and don’t mistake all this criticism for genre snobbery either. I’m all for a good thriller, I love science fiction, give me bit of horror any day of the week – but I expect some craft as well as imagination. Reilly barely has even the latter, but when it comes to craftsmanship I wouldn’t trust him to nail his thumb to a door. Unless there were zombies approaching the other side of it.
So, you know what? I can’t be bothered.
Instead I’m going to reminisce, but in my old age the dates and years grow hazy, so bear with me. When I was (let’s say) ten, I started to read a Harry Harrison novel called Star Smashers of the Galaxy Rangers. I was young and I didn’t see deeply enough into it to recognise it as a work of satire. All I saw was cliché and, for the first time in my life as a reader, I put a book down unfinished. I was glad to do so. It sat on a shelf for a long time, glanced at and passed over with disdain, until, faced with a family holiday and a minimum of six hours in the back of the car, I deliberately picked it up again – specifically so I could say I’d never left a man behind, no matter how incompetent he was.
Of course, it turned out to be great. Affectionate parody of the sf genre, positive mockery of social conventions like race, gender, sexuality, etc. etc. I read it cover to cover by the time we arrived (at a farm in Wales) and finished it with a smile on my face. I know with certainty that Seven Ancient Wonders could be read in that time, probably twice over – but I also know that my only grin at the end of it would be a rictus.
Leave no man behind.
I’m not at all sure I’ll tell the chopper pilot to turn back for Matthew Reilly – but if we do happen to swing round again, maybe I’ll take pity and unload a full clip at him.
As a mercy.
For us all.
Fuck this crap, I’m going to read Angels And Demons.
Never thought I’d say that.
October 1, 2009 at 13:49
I loved Seven Ancient Wonders, i really did. However, i completely agree with you! Completely, honestly, as much as i loved reading it the italics and unnecessary comma’s were frustrating and somewhat distracting. I tried telling my friend (who is obsessed with his books) but she wouldn’t listen and i thought i was wrong. Thank god i read this ahaha it makes me feel a bit more sane knowing that I’m not the only one that saw this. cya =)
October 3, 2009 at 11:47
Dear Agie,
I salute your wisdom – well, your relative wisdom. You’ve made your first, tentative steps into a larger world, filled with good books – now break free from your reliance on Matthew Reilly, spread your wings and fly! Just don’t pick anything you find mentioned here (apart from this one, which is great – and also written by an Australian so I can’t be accused of racism).
Seriously, I’m glad you found solace in these humble opinions. And by “humble”, I mean “correct”.
Tell your friend! Spread the word!
Cliff.
February 14, 2010 at 13:56
Excellent, if somewhat savage, criticism.
I was too distracted by the video-game simplicity of the ancient wonders to pay attention to the grammar gaffes. The whole book was just so by-the-numbers action I could not believe the same guy had written Scarecrow which was much more fun (more XXX than Raiders).
February 19, 2010 at 13:50
Dear Mister Riley,
Most kind, sir, most kind. My excellence and my savagery are qualities I endlessly strive to perfect.
Hang on… Riley?
…or Reilly?
February 24, 2010 at 19:10
[…] Don’t bother with Matthew Reilly’s Seven Ancient Wonders, it’s terrible. Some of his other stuff is great though, so do read his books. Just avoid that […]
March 17, 2010 at 02:09
I am ashamed to admit that, apart from Five Greatest Warriors, which I am about halfway through, I have read all of Matthew Reilly’s clunky, stilted, amateurish novels. I a even more ashamed to admit that I quite enjoy them. To loosely paraphrase Stephen King, while I may appreciate a finely grilled rib-eye steak, sometimes I’m in the mood for a slapped-together peanut butter sandwich. (King’s version used baloney. I refuse to analogise American preserved meats.)
So yes, they’re dumb fun, and Reilly can come up with an enjoyably clever plot twist, escape plan, or action sequence on occasion.
That said, his prose is perhaps the worst I have ever read, at least published on paper in commercial quantities. Five Greatest Warriors has the honour of featuring the single worst paragraph Reilly has ever written, an achievement the immensity of which I am sure you will appreciate.
I quote:
This pyramid was surrounded by a seething lake of molten lava that flowed over the rim of the abyss in a completely circular lavafall. (A similarly circular tray a short way below the main rim caught the overflowing lava and presumably pumped it back up into the system above.)
Is it just me, or that clumsy parenthetical a margin note written to a sceptical editor that somehow got kept in the book by mistake? I mean, the heroes of this story are our eyes and ears, and apart from when the action cuts briefly to the villains, they are our source of information (clip-art aside).
This insertion negates their role in the story, as it just tells us how the trap works (superfluously, too – he’s never felt the need to explain the workings of his ludicrous ancient mechanisms before) by giving us information they could not have.
If readers really cared about where the lava goes (and if they’ve read this far into Reilly’s oeuvre they really shouldn’t) he could have handled it with some speculative dialogue. (“Where does the lava goes? Why doesn’t the lake drain?” “I don’t know. Maybe there’s some system below to keep it circulating.”)
So yeah, it’s a big claim, but I want to nominate this for Reilly’s worst paragraph ever. Your thoughts?
March 24, 2010 at 12:17
Dear Mr. X (or may I call you “Dex”?),
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, and further, for demonstrating that Reilly’s readership actually have some. On the other hand, curse you for making me open 7AW again in order to decide which festering prose splurt I consider to be Reilly’s worst ever.
If I was allowed to select two consecutive paragraphs (both small) for their, presumably, possibly, unintentional pun value I’d go for these:
“Hold it right there, partner,” an ice-cold voice commanded.
West froze.
The bold is to reflect Reilly’s continued iffy use of italics, btw. I don’t know if I have the mental strength to spend more than the two minutes just required to look for anything worse, although I’m sure I’ve blanked out many other failures of environment description to match the one you mentioned. If I ever run over someone’s pet cat with my Mercedes and feel the need to punish myself, I’ll open a page at random and see what turns up.
Thanks again through gritted teeth,
Cliff
January 10, 2011 at 06:13
I actually enjoyed the book. In the “Interview” at the back of one of his books, MR says that if proper grammar stuffs up the story he throws it out the window. This book is not a textbook. Books are to be enjoyed. You don’t have to go over them with a microscope.
However, I have discovered that MR can’t count: See page 104 of 7AW (Hardcover), and Jack West Junior’s eyes seem to change colour, also in that book.
I enjoyed the story and ignored the mistakes. If you are an English teacher, however, I understand.
January 10, 2011 at 12:03
Dear Violetta,
Good lord, I’ve been so entangled with my ongoing court battles that I haven’t added to The Manilla in almost a year. Let me thank you, somewhat, for bringing it back to my attention. May I also say what a charmingly musical name you have!
I’m pleased for you that you enjoyed Mr. Reilly’s story, very much so. However I am not sure, in all honesty, how the use of proper grammar could “stuff up” a story. Many of the world’s writers leave their stories stuffed to capacity with proper grammar, with the effect that their readers don’t even notice it is there.
Not to start lecturing to the class or anything, but no matter how fast and thrilling a rollercoaster might be, suddenly finding a brick on the tracks tends to break up the smooth enjoyment of the ride – conforming to the normal forms of language is one of the great brick-removal strategies. True, in the hands of a craftsman such rules are sometimes to be followed creatively, but to the casual observer Mr. Reilly’s interview sounds like a making of the excuses for to not working the language correct.
Regardless, comma, I am proud you chose to contribute to my blog, and as you were good enough to post other comments hither and yon I shall now hunt them all down and put them out of their misery.
Regards,
Cliff
January 12, 2011 at 08:20
I didn’t have time to find the correct article, so I’ll put this here: You have a sick mind. How old are you, 15? Just because Zoe’s the only young woman on the team doesn’t mean she slept with the rest of the (male) members. You have serious problems. End of story. Bye-bye. See you later.
January 12, 2011 at 12:08
I’m glad you’re taking this issue as seriously as I am. I DO have serious problems. In calously suggesting that isolated soldiers would be able to supress their urge to give kisses to people, or worse, books like “Seven Ancient Wonders” present a clear and present danger to the sexual mores of our global culture.
I would suggest that a careful experiment is conducted to evaluate the testicular response times of multiple military personnel during A DECADE spent within a single female exposure environment. Might I recommend you not volunteer for the role of central test subject, unless you are extremely broad-minded and don’t have much to do between now and 2021.
January 13, 2011 at 23:41
You are very critical, I’m surprised you didn’t notice I quoted Shrek. And don’t write off Matthew Reilly completely, the Scarecrow books are better than the Jack West books
January 14, 2011 at 18:44
Violetta, I must apologise for any offense taken, though none was intended. I’m clearly not up-to-date enough to identify subtle riffing off the Shrek franchise. Not recognising that you were only having fun, I’m sure you will understand how I might have thought you were being just a touch critical yourself. In any case, I accept your apology for any offense taken, of which there was none, so I’m pleased to see that we are now back on a friendly even footing.
However I’m not sure I’ll be able to give Matthew Reilly a second chance. I value my eyes too much, and I’d hate to have to pluck them from their sockets.