Reviewing this novel for Locus, I make a big fuss about how every book I read features an analogue of Elon Musk—the narcissistic billionaire cos-playing as Hitler and the world’s saviour. My astute editor rightly pointed out that this is not a new phenomenon and that this character is a well-established archetype within the genre. I changed my review to clarify that I wasn’t talking about Lex Luthor or the supervillains of the last century. The analogues for those guys aren’t as apparent. For example, dear Lex isn’t based on a single person but rather robber barons, nameless industrialists and, if we’re being specific (and generous), people like Rockefeller, Carnegie and Morgan (of the J.P. variety). 

The analogue is far more evident with the recent crop of fictional arsehole billionaires. It’s either Elon, Zuck or Jeff*. At the moment, I think most of these portrayals have Elon as their model because even five years back, he was the most charismatic and visible of the three (with “charismatic” doing a fuck-tonne of work in that sentence). It’s just a viewpoint; you don’t have to agree with me, and I won’t hate you—not even a little bit.

As for the book, it’s good. The Elon Musk analogue barely appears, but his presence is felt throughout. He wants to colonise Mars, believing Earth is fucked. He’s not half wrong. The novel is structured around four generations of a single family—starting in the present day and moving a century into the future—all of whom play a central role in humanity’s destiny.  (Reed toggles between each generation rather than telling the story sequentially). There’s also time travel, and while the application here is a bit obvious, it still works.

You can read my full review in the April issue of Locus.

*And frankly, given how they’ve all removed the mask, it could be all three.