Review of redRobe by Jon Courtenay Grimwood

Jon Courtenay Grimwood's Arabesk trilogy is what put his name on the genre map—at least temporarily; the winds of change have evolved genre to the point long-term recognition is possible now only in niches. But before Raf and his near-future, alternate-history Turkish empire became a thing, Grimwood was exploring settings more recognizably cyberpunk. Through the first four novels of his oeuvre one finds the aesthetic front and center. It's only in the fourth, the subject of the review here, that hints of what's to come in Arabesk are made clear. Let's take a look at redRobe (2000).

Looking like a character straight from Japanese manga, Axl is spiky-haired young man living in a Mexico City of the near future who gives zero fucks for himself let alone other people. Physically augmented with various kit and a killer for hire, redRobe opens with Axl going out on a hit. His pistol possessing helpful AI, together the two take down the target. But things get twisted in the aftermath with Axl being taken into custody, his gun on the loose. Requesting a papal audience as his only hope of reprieve, Axl gets it—at least so he thinks. Soon after the rebellious young man is sent to a man-made planetoid to investigate where the Vatican's coffers disappeared to.

redRobe is slick cyberpunk product. Stephen Roof calls it “intelligent pulp”, and that is the perfect description. (Or perhaps sophisticated sensationalism?) Grimwood provides the reader all of the visual material they need to see the story; body mods, street shootouts, casual sex, and graphic violence liberally pepper the pages. But a portion of the onus regarding plot is on the reader. Where Grimwood works scene by scene, describing the details needed imagine where they are, he lets dialogue and action describe character motivation and direction, meaning the plot itself is something that needs to be put together by the reader. This is not challenging. Somebody has stolen money from the Church and is attempting some sacrilege to gain position within it, all the while Axl is violently hurdling internal and external obstacles to get to the bottom of it. That's it. Grimwood's stellar prose gives this a platinum sheen, a feeling that the whole is more sophisticated than it is. Intelligent pulp.

Regarding Axl himself, the reader does not get close to him, nor are they intended to given redRobe reads like a graphic novel—fast paced, dynamic scenes which focus on action and movement. That being said, Grimwood does play off of Axl's forgotten history. With minimal identity to hold to, the value Axl places on his own life and the lives of others likewise becomes minimal, meaning he can throw himself fearlessly into dangerous situations and blast away—the perfect action figure. It's this flailing at the world through lack of personal history that Grimwood explores in depth in the Arabesk trilogy.

If cyberpunk is a playground, then redRobe is a child's delight of monkey bars, jungle gyms, slides, swings, and other toys. From William Gibson to Ghost in the Shell, readers will be familiar with the world. But not in excess. The novel remains a sleek, fun experience; kids don’t go down the slide only once, after all. Thus if the cyberpunk aesthetic is in your wheelhouse, Grimwood here produces some of the purest distillate. For readers who enjoy the Arabesk trilogy, they will find its roots, specifically Raf, in the novel, which therefore may make it of interest.