|
|
|
A Mouthful of Tongues: |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
erry Hackett is an administrative assistant at a U.S. biotech company, an ordinary woman whose nights are marked by vivid dreams of a lush jungle, of being stalked by a jaguar. Dreams are all they seem to be, however, until her employer decides to impress Kerry by giving her complete access to the secured laboratory sections of the firm. Beyond the palmprint-coded doors, Peter Jarius shows her the company's star project, a fabulously beautiful experimental life form called a benthic. The benthic is made entirely of totipotent cells, ones that have the capability of becoming any type of tissue.
The possibility of a romantic liaison with the boss goes awry, however, when Kerry is put off by one of Peter's kinks. Returning home, she finds her boyfriend in a violently jealous state—and after he assaults her and turns her out onto the street, she is attacked by a stranger, too. Shell-shocked and wounded, she returns to the benthic, breaking into its sterile environment and bringing herself into deliberate contact with its outer membrane. The result is a complete transformation. Kerry becomes, quite literally, a new form of life. Outwardly human, she can change her shape, detach her tongue, secrete drugs and poisons through her tissues, and even restore limbs to those who have undergone amputation.
Unique and alone, Kerry sets out for the jungles of Bahia, embarking on a quest to feed her altered sexual appetites and meet the destiny promised by her dreams.
A compendium of broken taboos
Paul Di Filippo's A Mouthful of Tongues is as much hardcore erotica as it is SF, a deft fusion of biological science and human desire. Kerry's movement through the jungle and peoples of Bahia explores a wide range of sexual behavior: straight and gay couplings, incest, variations of rape, S&M and bestiality. As the scope of Kerry's abilities expands, her empathy for her many partners begins to erode, and soon her lovers take on the status of mere playthings. From a victim of violence she moves into being its perpetrator, becoming a dark goddess of carnality. This is world-shattering stuff, and readers should go into this book with eyes open.
The novel is also beautifully written. Di Filippo's use of language is poetic and playful, as rich and sumptuous as the jungle that forms its principal setting. Bahia is drawn as a dense, humid zone packed with sensual delights and corruption, and it is all too easy to imagine Kerry lurking in its forests, on the prowl for her next lover. The characterization, on the other hand, is sometimes a little on the thin side. This is perhaps to be expected, though, in a novel whose protagonist goes through so many sexual partners in such a short space of time.
The logical progression of the story, and Kerry's change, is thoroughly admirable. A Mouthful of Tongues does not sketch out its heroine's change as a binary process, where she is human one minute and altered the next. As the story moves forward, Kerry continues to lose her humanity, becoming more alien with every page. These changes end only with mystical intervention, and even then it is clear that while Kerry herself may be stabilized, the nature of the world itself is suddenly up for grabs.
I was sorry whenever this moved from the milieu of science and sex to that of visions and prophecy, but that is all about my personal tastes. SF produces few genuine erotic novels, and the integrity and beauty of this one make it a definite must-read. — A.M.D.
Also in this issue: Chindi, by Jack McDevitt
|
         |
|
| Home |
Copyright © 1998-2006, Science Fiction Weekly (TM). All rights reserved. Reproduction in any medium strictly prohibited. Maintained by scifiweekly@scifi.com. |
