As the result of a bizarre lab accident, Sarah finds herself pregnant with a child that is half human, half bonobo. The scientists wish to end the pregnancy. Sarah flees. She and Kevin seek to raise the hybrid baby, Sage, in rural isolation. But a drunken miner who spots the child thinks he's seen Bigfoot. A local militia, the Kristian Kommand, investigates Sageand so does the federal government. Sage and her parents flee into the Oregon wildernessbut the government agents won't rest until they've captured her. And even if she can elude the feds and militiamen, how can Sage survive in a world in which she is both human and animaland neither?
Good and bad, but nothing in betweenAn engineer, an environmental activist and a writer/editor for
Truth Out, Kelpie Wilson brings the requisite knowledge to
Primal Tears, her eco-conscious and daring first novel. She extrapolates believably from the possibility that humans and chimpanzees may be as inter-fertile as horses are with donkeys or lions with tigers, and she doesn't shy away from the realities of bonobo sexuality. She handles the controversial aspects of her novel with taste and sensitivity (though easily shocked readers should probably steer clear). She treats environmental problems realistically; Sage's trip to Africa, for example, doesn't stop the devastating exploitation of the Gold Coast region. Wilson's passionate commitment to conservation and her love for the wilderness shine through in passages of lyrical beauty (new high-fantasy authors could do a lot worse than study how Wilson writes about wild places). And she believably develops Sage's alien mind and personality, creating a complex, sympathetic character.
Other aspects of the novel are more problematic.
Primal Tears is written in the limited third-person viewpoint of several characters, but the viewpoints change between paragraphs instead of between scenes, confusing readers. Too, the viewpoints rarely immerse readers very deeply in the characters' heads. As a result, the novel too often summarizes events it should show. Some important scenes, like Sage's reunion with her human parents, her introduction to her bonobo father and her significant sexual encounters with man and woman, zip by in a few expository sentences. Even events that are dramatized, such as a kidnapping attempt, are not sufficiently detailed.
The novel's biggest weakness is the division of good guys and bad guys along stereotypical lines. The good guys always turn out to be Earth-loving liberals who accept the fact of evolution and are never bothered by a human-bonobo hybrid. Meanwhile, the bad guys aren't just conservative creation-science believers who are uptight about breeding with animals; they're unethical, ultra-right-wing, gun-obsessed, Christian militiamen. By the time a corporate executive shows up, readers just
know he's unethical, and they're right.
Of course, caricatures are fine in satirical fiction; but
Primal Tears isn't satire. It's drama, and drama loses its effectiveness when the author assigns positive traits almost exclusively to characters who share her beliefs. Sophisticated readers know that people of every political persuasion would be disturbed, however briefly, by a human-chimpanzee crossbreed. Sophisticated readers know there are liberal gun owners and conservative gun-control supporters, atheist militia members and ethical corporate executives, Christians who accept evolution and liberals who exploit the environment. As a result, few sophisticated readers are likely to finish
Primal Tears.
When Kelpie Wilson imbues both her protagonists and her antagonists with the unpredictable mix of positive and negative traits and beliefs found in us all, she'll be a novelist of considerable power. Cynthia