Review of Electric Forest by Tanith Lee

There is a never a clear fault line between eras of fiction. Books appear here and there, under the radar, with one or two elements in common. Slowly these elements occur more often until coalescing into something identifiable, and at that point become a recognizable phenomenon in fiction. It's at this time that writers begin consciously producing material in and around the phenomenon. Then comes the inevitable exhausted—steampunk <cough-cough>. But we are not here for that. Tanith Lee's 1979 Electric Forest is a clear work of cyberpunk, but its worth noting was created in the hazy gray area between unknown phenomenon and known quantity. Let's see what the innocence leads to.

Electric Forest is the story of Magdala. Born poor, ugly, and deformed, she jumps at the chance a suave stranger offers her for a new body. In the days that follow, he transfers her consciousness into the android body of a goddess. Capable of functioning like a human, for all its pride and pleasure, Magdala's only drawback is that she cannot stray far from her biological body, which is kept in a chamber. She enjoys her new body initially, but the deeper Magdala goes into her journey of selfhood, the more nuanced her views become.

Electric Forest is a fast but strong read. Girl goes for James Dean on the motorcycle, only to discover there is a reason mama said to avoid that type of man. It's then she takes that narrative in her own direction—not like a girl boss, but a person with agency. Surrounding imagery, plot devices, and world Magdala traverses getting to that point are recognizably cyberpunk to we modern culture hounds—a William Gibson or Bruce Sterling prequel. But Lee was tilling fresh soil at the time, which makes the cohesion of the elements all the more compelling.

Electric Forest is a work from early in Lee's oeuvre. It shows but doesn't show. Lee's signature style—objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear—is starting to form itself on the page. The attention to self, relationships, and sexuality is prevalent, as is the awareness of the primeval animal forces working within us. Lee would later imbue her writing with greater subtlety (for example, avoiding such obvious titles as “electric forest”), but what's available here remains better than what a lot of writers spend a career trying to develop.

Electric Forest, for the majority of its length, works within a clear story space that steadily builds itself. The climax has tension and seems to resolve the key plot points. But the denouement takes a sharp left turn, so sharp in fact, it may have caused an accident. Conceptions the reader has throughout the novel are overturned—a veil is removed to reveal the “real” story beneath. This tactic can work very well as long as the seeds are sown in the course of the novel. In Electric Forest, the approach undercuts Magdala's story. Perhaps I need a re-read, but I'm uncertain at the moment that the sharp left turn enhances the book. It feels more like a zealous editor who wanted to see a more classical sci-ending—fireworks that flash, but nothing but smoke remains a moment later.

In the end, Electric Forest is a strong piece of cyberpunk with particular focus on the physicality of being a woman, sexuality, and the meaning of self/identity. Were it published today it would undoubtedly receive rave reviews from the far left. For the reader who sits in the center or right, however, be aware there is a sincerity, a genuine earnestness of expression, which renders Lee's writing more than mere politics. She appears to be writing a personal story of one woman rather than ramming home an agenda thinly veiled as tale. The book does deconstruct itself upon the conclusion, intentionally or not, but the story leading to that point leaves a mark, if not for the cyberpunk imagery alone.