'A Fickle and Restless Weapon'

I didn't really want to read Jason Erik Lundberg’s ‘A Fickle and Restless Weapon’ (2020). Of course there's a summary of the book, and it didn't seem like the type of story I'm keen on. It was very hard for me to sit through this in one reading, but I did it. To me, it isn't as enjoyable as the author's previous book of which its stories are more attractive to me. 

This is supposed to be a fantasy and a satire. The timeline spans 1990s to 2010, with an epilogue in 1982. Everything comes to a head on the fictitious island of the Republic of Tinhau where resistance groups aim to destabilize the incumbent government. Among the humans, there're 'swees', humans who are mutants and who possess special powers and might not look entirely human. 

Zed (Quek Zhou Ma, and later on 'Zuma') is a successful artist who returns to his homeland of Tinhau and feels disassociated and betrayed by a failed performance through no fault of anyone's besides the resistance known as Red Dhole. Then there's this faction of civil society that's against the government which is represented by Tara who ironically works for the Ministry of Culture, and later on Zed's creative partner Vahid Nabizadeh. The Ministry of Culture is all powerful and corrupt, along with all the government machinery that's all about politicking and making scapegoats out of people. Then there's this mysterious cloud formation termed as the 'Range' that sends lightning strike down to any venue in any city in the world, destroying all in its way. Okaaaaay.

The book focuses on little vignettes in its storyline, taking time to lovingly paint the details as each conversation or scene unfolds.

They picked at the fish head, and spooned curry and vegetables onto their rice. Neither of them spoke while they ate, engaged in the act of concentrating on the proper way to eat the fish, and as more and more of the flesh was consumed, the fish's eyes grew cloudy, and soon stopped blinking. Tara scooped out the left eye and Zuma the right. The jelly-like orb was grayish, and exuded a sweet smell, almost like cinnamon. Windows to the soul, if a fish could have a soul, or if souls even existed. They tapped their spoons together, as if clinking wine glasses, then consumed each respective eye, swallowing whole, not wanting to burst the sour vitreous humor. 

As I went through the book, I was very thrown off by the names and cities. It's like a mesh-up of Hong Kong and Singapore. I had to stop thinking that this was similar to whatever in Singapore and Hong Kong. Even if the incidents made any allusions to real life events, I refused to compare and draw links. I had to keep in mind that this is fiction, not a fact-checking mission.

When Zed/Zuma became Elisha in features and physical traits, and couldn't morph/change back, and also had a daughter, I lost it. I was like WHAT THE. The notion isn't too wild. But does it have to be so? To show that the struggle for identity is complete after going round and round? Of course the story isn't Zed's alone. Tara and Vahid's stories rounded up the final few chapters. It's such a politically correct book with robust characters, absorbing and presenting all elements of a multi-cultural, multi-gender, multi-faceted society in a world that's to come, and yet this story was set in the past. I don't know if this is sci-fi per se, or if it's fantasy. It's fantastical. But it's not my cup of tea.