Tim
Maughan –Paintwork.
The
three short stories which comprise Paintwork are all set in a future
that in some respects feels as close as tomorrow, but a longer moment’s
consideration of the technology that is almost a normal part of everyday life suggests
that this future is perhaps not quite as close as one initially thought. It can
be difficult to find an appropriate balance between the ‘gosh-wow new stuff’
approach and the fact that it should mostly be a normal and unremarked thing to
the stories’ inhabitants, if not to readers. Post-Neuromancer, there is
the danger when using themes such as augmented reality, street art or manga, this
that authors are rehashing the same old ideas, using past cultural cues in lieu
of new content, to evoke a sense of the futuristic. For the most part, Maughan
lets the technology speak for itself but doesn’t always quite avoid the intrinsic
self-consciousness that comes with such territory: the debate as to how much
should the author divulge, how much should the reader be left to figure out is
sometimes a little more visible than it ought to be.
Of
the three stories, ‘Paparazzi’ suffers most from this. The quasi-anonymous John
Smith is reduced to taking an assignment to gatecrash a beta version of new
online game, and needs to spend a lot of time learning the game. It is a not
unreasonable reworking of the modern advertising practice of creating a story
where a story doesn’t exist but too much time is wasted in setting up the scenario,
which isn’t a story itself, while the payoff is slight. I’d like to believe
that ‘Paparazzi’ is in some way performative of its theme, but the fact remains
that it is the weakest of the three stories, for all that it contains a
pertinent nugget of observation about the way in which the press both
manipulates and is in turn manipulated.
Instead,
let us turn to ‘Paintwork’ itself and to ‘Havana Augmented’, both of which,
among other things, explore the idea of art and the environment in which it
occurs, and most importantly, with the nature of artistic integrity. ‘Paintwork’
itself is about the making of art, and what it is that makes it authentic. Is
it craft or is it result that matters? And following that, is the satisfaction
to be gained from doing it properly personal or something more than that?
These
are the questions that 3Cube, a ‘writer’, has to grapple with during the course
of the story. The meaning of ‘writer’ has obviously shifted since the present
day. Cube’s ‘art’ is as much coding and stencil-cutting as it is pictorial (3D,
even, given the technology at his disposal). He takes a pride in his various
skills, and in doing things the ‘old-fashioned way’. However, all this is
called into question when his newest set of artworks are sabotaged almost
before they’ve been witnessed. It would spoil the story’s denouement to go into
much more detail, but it revolves around a fascinating set of dichotomies about
art as inspiration or product, about the fashion in technologies, whether art
is somehow more worthwhile if you go about it in one way or another.
What
distinguishes Cube from his fellow artists is something best characterised as a
romantic streak. He is engaged with the notion of art as a way of achieving
personal transformation, and as having the power to transform others, while
most of the artists he knows seem to regard it as a commercial enterprise. Maughan
seems to be suggesting that this is the artist’s quintessential dilemma, no
matter what the medium he works in, and this idea spills over into ‘Havana
Augmented’, which is a joyful and outrageous story of young games programmers
who have moved a virtual game into the augmented reality of their spex and are
now playing Rolling Iron through the streets of Havana. Inevitably governments
and big business become involved, and I can’t deny that the story’s ending
smacks somewhat of the fairytale, but in the end, why not? 3Cube is criticised
by fellow artists for being too optimistic, for seeking the beauty buried
within the grim, trying to remind people that there is hope of something
better, and for Paul and Marcus, there is a similar prize at stake in their
dealings with the outside world.
In
all, Paintwork is a very enjoyable and thought-provoking collection of
stories about the place of art in the future. For further details about Paintwork,
go here.
Disclosure
notice: ebook of Paintwork provided, unsolicited, by Tim Maughan
I was all set to go and buy a copy after reading this, and then I followed your link and noticed: "including the 2010 BSFA Short Fiction Award nominated ‘Havana Augmented’." Which is disingenuous enough to stop me spending money. It's not quite as pathetic as "Clarke longlisted", which I've also seen, but it's close.
ReplyDelete@Maurenn - sorry, only just found this review! Thanks so much for the thoughtful write up, and glad you (largely) enjoyed it!
ReplyDelete@Niall - apologies if I've made some kind of faux pas, in my defense I am very new to this, and not as yet completely clued up on the politics and etiquette of the SF community. When I received the nomination I have to confess I was barely aware of the BSFA, and contacted them to see if mentioning it during promotion was acceptable. They had no problem with this. Again, apologies if this was somehow a vulgar thing to do.
If it is still enough to stop you from buying the book, please let me know. I'd be more than happy to provide you with a free review copy.