Finity [Paperback]

Increasingly difficult to explain, Barnes's posited future involves parallel realities that bleed together through quantum interference derived from the use of particular quantum technologies: virtual reality devices, the internet, and telephones - essentially those technologies that define the Information Age. When an individual uses a quantum device, they switch over to a parallel reality, often to one close to their own (maybe they had something different for breakfast), but occasionally to a far different reality (the Axis achieved victory). Thus, a sizable amount of character interaction is comprised of discussions regarding the disparate realities from which they come - all of them missing a United States of America, none of which are widely different.

The most interesting aspect of the novel is the variety of parallel cultures that Barnes introduces, which are unfortunately only used as interesting segues rather than cultural explorations. And yet, of the variety of Americas introduced, and the political elements that lead to the disappearance of America, fascism seems to be the one constant element, inescapable whether the United States becomes the American Reich, Communist America, or the Puritan-run United States. As such, Finity seems to forecast the return of Republican-lead American government (although Barnes might have been responding to the Democrat-lead socialization projects of the 1990s); thus the novel seems particularly appropriate in latter twentieth century American science fiction, responding to the binary politics that relegate American politics to mediocrity cum fascism.

The protagonists are brought together for their academic specialties by Geoffrey Iphwin, a wildly powerful corporate executive, to solve the mystery of this disappeared America, and after 240 pages of preliminary adventuring and theoretical discussions on abductive reasoning and parallel realities, the protagonists are on the precipice of solving America's disappearance as they cross the border into the forgotten land. It seems that in some latter day America, an Office of the Pursuit of Happiness comes into being, responsible for achieving, through socialist means, happiness for all Americans, at any cost. If one can overcome Barnes's supposition that the American public, even under fascist Nazi rule, would accept socialized happiness this might be acceptable; Barnes imagines an America so un-American, that it's rather difficult to believe. Finally, when the source of the mystery is revealed, the conclusion of the novel - and the protagonists' escape from their imperfect realities - I found myself left wanting. Whereas Dick achieves a sense of horror in that the Nazi-ruled reality is inescapable, even for those who know more perfect worlds exist, Barnes allows the protagonists to escape their reality, constantly seeking adventure in other possible realities, thereby allowing them to also escape the imperfection inherent in any possible world.

This uplifting conclusion, very democratic, very absolving, entirely obviates the broader thematic interests implied by the use of parallel realities that exist under fascist, anti-American rule. Burdekin's very early mediation on a world run by Nazis was such an acute understanding on the nature of love and emotion in a fascist world, something that Dick was able to echo in the rather transitory and impossible relationships in The Man in the High Castle, but outside of the occasional inability for versions of characters to relate sexually, Barnes posits a Nazi world where love is an option. American transcendentalism leads to such conclusions, but Dick hinted at the same probability, but removed it from possibility by erecting an insurmountable barrier between realities, which Barnes crushes with newfound quantum physics. It's a rather pessimistic position to take regarding this novel, but I find that it's impossible for me to not be disappointed in Barnes's transcendental escapism - the novel could achieve so much more poignancy without it.

As a political novel, Finity falls short; The Man in the High Castle, infused with Dick's politics, was a perfect, and subtle, political novel much like Burdekin's earlier work - Finity is simply an adventure and as such, while it borrows tropes from Dick's, does simply that: it is more a pastiche than an homage.