For those looking to relax and have a little fun with a sci-fi
conceit, Kim Stanley Robinson’s Escape
from Kathmandu may be just the ticket.
Taking the idea of the yeti and running—full tilt—with it, serious
literature it is not, but fun, indeed, it is.
(Please note this review is for the novella, not the short story
collection of the same name.)
George Fergusson is mountain guide waiting between treks in
Kathmandu. Staying at the Star Hotel, he
passes the left-mail rack everyday. One
of the letters, which bursts its envelope, catches his attention, but it isn’t
for some time until he lets the dust convince him that the owner has left the
country for good. The story of a group
of botanists and zoologists studying the plant and animal life of the upper
Himalayas contained within, there is one surprise: the mammalogist meets a
yeti. But things turn all the more
interesting when the mammologist returns looking for his unreceived letter.
All hell breaking loose in the aftermath, Robinson takes the
reader on a romp through the capital of Nepal’s exotic taxi, rickshaw, and cow
filled streets as the story of the yeti unravels—secret service, Jimmy Carter,
hash, and yetis in disguise escalating the E.T.-esque
plot. For those who enjoy a simple
thriller, this is it.
Indeed a one-off, Robinson knowingly presses harder on the
absurd pedal the more things progress. Searching
out worthwhile content would be a wasted endeavor, that is, save one item: the
debate over whether it’s the scientist’s duty to report what he finds, or look
at the larger picture and refrain from citing evidence for the protection of a
larger ideal. Otherwise, Escape from Kathmandu is Encino Man in the Himalayas.
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