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It's a colourful, whimsical romp that plays entertainingly with themes from Bester's peak years, though without his old driving, compelling savagery. Hero Rogue Winter is a "Synergist", acutely sensitive to the world's patterns: in one set-piece sequence he follows an intuitive trail from 12 drummers drumming in a street parade, to the goal of a (metaphorical) partridge in a pear tree. Winter is also heir-apparent to the Maori Mafia which controls much of the Solar System's crime, but must single-handedly battle the dread mammoths of Ganymede to earn his crown, and meanwhile has fallen helplessly in love with a sexy non-human shapeshifter from Titan, making him vulnerable to minions of the insidious Manchu Duke of Death who plans to smash the syndicate that's smuggling the priceless miracle fuel Meta from the heavily defended mines of Saturn's Chinese/Japanese-dominated moon Triton...
Bester crams this wild farrago of a narrative with wisecracks, junk science, circus glamour, odd catchphrases, bits of self-conscious cleverness and excess, Chinese esoterica like the Mirror-and-Listen Mystery, and his trademark typographic tricks. Amusing candyfloss nonsense; quite readable, but definitely not in the same league as his 1950s classics. --David Langford --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
THE DECEIVERS was written later in his career, and it's my belief that THE DECEIVERS is one long in-joke, filled with cryptic goodies and extremes which probably only Bester and his closest supporters took any real enjoyment in. My feeling is THE DECEIVERS was much less written for the audience at large, and much more written for an aged author who was trying to keep himself entertained.
On one level, the text seems to be written with great ease and intricacy, but at what expense? It's a campy, oblique love story set in an elaborately expanded solar system, with tricky gibberish and painful future slang tossed in. I feel like Bester must've had an absolute blast writing this book. And in the process, I think he alienated the more casual reader.
I read it. I finished it. I can't say that I enjoyed it. In fact, there were a few moments where I asked myself, "Why am I reading this?" Libraries were invented for books like this one.
THE DECEIVERS is a very deliberate work of fiction, but more valuable as a performed effort of an accomplished afficianado than as accessible entertainment for the masses.
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