Finished Bruce Sterling's
Zeitgeist yesterday after idiotically letting it sit on my shelf for a decade (it's a Y2K book). Sterling's one of my favorites but this ostensibly SF novel seemed initially to be mainstream fiction, became a bit of a surreal fantasy in places and the vaguest touch of AltHist in others, and was basically a bunch of symbolism. I spent the first half having a blast until the idea that I didn't know what the heck he was really on about (and that I still wouldn't by the time it was all over) became overpowering. While there were a couple of annoying tics, the prose was classic Sterling and, insofar as the characters were "real", it had great characters but otherwise it just kind of wandered around being clever. I'll keep it for an eventual re-read (when I re-read all of Sterling and write my best-selling critical survey, ha ha) and it may grow on me but I can't really recommend it at this point.
Examples of fun prose:
In one of our many settings:
As an outlaw state the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus had no flight clearance with the world's many grim, self-important civil air authorities. So the Republic's primary airport was, by necessity, a rather modest place. The terminal was flat and dusty, and surrounded by unkempt flowering shrubs. The airport's rusty radar scanner resembled a barbecue grill.
The starstruck young daughter (Zeta) of our protagonist (Leggy Starlitz) meeting the stunning superstar-to-be (Gonca) (who's the girlfriend of the Turkish heavy (Ozbey)):
Starlitz watched from a careful distance as his daughter approached Gonca Utz. Zeta bravely traipsed around the perimeter of Ozbey's thick-necked bodyguards, and intruded herself upon the actresses's attention. Miss Utz put down her clipboard, plucked out her Walkman earplugs, removed her Milanese sunglasses. She offered Zeta a radiant, unguarded smile that would have killed and cooked any male human being.
On a plane:
A stewardess passed down the aisle, with the trance-like step of a professional who lived between timezones.
Starlitz passed her three empty plastic liquor bottles and five disemboweled foil bags of peanuts.
And that's just some of what struck me randomly on pages 115-137 when I stopped long enough to note some. The whole 280 pages is full of gems. On the other hand, the "Dad! - What? - Dad! - What? - Dad! blah blah" and the "Yes, no, maybe" verbal tics of Zeta and Leggy, respectively, get a bit old and, while Sterling's fashion-statement descriptions serve a purpose and do good work, he relies on them too much and makes them do too much work.
And, as I say, plotwise and possibly symbolically/thematically, it's something of a mess. A con-man hustler manages a fake girl group (is there any other kind?), gets a daughter dropped on him, goes through some changes and some very strange "scenes", and observes the lunacy that was the 20th Century and that is the
fin de siecle.