Review of Titanium Noir by Nick Harkaway

Nick Harkaway is one of few writers I get genuinely excited about when hearing of an upcoming book. Part of it is good timing (Harkaway releases a new novel once every three-five years, so there is ample time to appreciate those which have been released and be expectant for those to come—the next Beatles album). But most of it is authorial voice. Like David Mitchell, Catherynne Valente, Paul Di Filippo, Michael Chabon, and others, Harkaway's style is so colorfully dynamic as to offer pure joy in the act of reading itself—regardless plot, character, what have you. 2023's Titanium Noir—six years since Gnomen—was thus exploding on my radar. I went in literally knowing nothing save the author's name on the cover.

Titanium Noir is a piece of straight-forward detective noir. Set in the near future, gene therapy is available to the ultra rich, a process which both rejuvenates the body to puberty but likewise adds height and weight, thus creating modern titans. As with many a good piece of noir, our consulting detective, Cal Sounder, is called to the home of the deceased at the start of the story. In this case, it's Roddy Tebbit, a titan. Neat bullet hole in the head, he's been the subject of an execution-style killing. A lab researcher with an immaculately clean home, the reasons for his death are not immediately visible, and talking with the neighbors doesn't turn up any clues. It's only in digging into the nature of Tebbit's research that the trail gets hot. And likewise with any good noir, it's a trail that leads Sounder into a den of lions, super-sized ones.

Titanium Noir is not equal to Gnomen or Tigerman, or even Angelmaker in terms of style. Seeming to put a Dashiel Hammett-shapped parachute on his back, Harkaway's signature voice is noticeably restrained. The stylings one may expect are not replete. It's only in rare moments that the reader is aware Harkaway penned the tale. This is not a criticism, only an observation. Harkaway is clearly trying to write in a vein. The story itself moves with the momentum of a freight train, however. The reader never remembers that style was an option. Which leads to...

Titanium Noir is, as advertised, a straight-up piece of noir. No tricks, no metamodern genre mixer, no attempt to be original in some cheap, overt way. It's just detective noir, as your grandfather liked, in a near-future setting. Again, this is not a criticism. Harkaway does the mold excellently. Many of the scenes are classic. The one liners zing but not too often as to be artificial. Each and every scene concatenates the broader storyline, pushing it forward, zero filler. Sounder's character, while not world weary to the point of nihilism, is hard-nosed, tough, and resourceful—just as you'd expect from such a story. The main plot device of titans is neither drab nor exciting, and has just enough originality to lend the narrative something it can call its own without overwhelming it. And the plot itself meanders its way through the police to the underworld, and does have a simple but logical climax—as readers are hoping. It's simply well done noir.

Recommending Titanium Noir is thus also simple. If you're looking for a relaxing detective story with sf flavor for the beach this summer, the book is precisely that. Harkaway restrains himself in diction, but offers a master class in detective fiction in terms of structure, pace, plotting, characters, etc. In fact, he makes it look easy. The pages slide by—as they should laying on the beach.