 The Shrinking Man (1956)
First, just to clarify, The Shrinking Man is The Incredible Shrinking Man.
Matheson's books and stories are well-known for their plentiful adaptations in Hollywood - from dozens of "Twilight Zone" episodes to Charlton Heston's hippie vampire hunter in The Omega Man, based on I Am Legend.
So in an attempt to add marketing value to a decent and understated title, some 1950s era hack threw in the word "incredible" and pretty much consigned the book (at least for now) to the dustbin of pop culture. If you're anything like me, you automatically assume that anything from the 50s with the word "incredible" in the title is bound to be ridiculous and dated.
But The Shrinking Man is exceptionally cool and very modern. It's quite simply a great sci-fi novel. Maybe not the greatest novel ever written, but sci-fi's not about great writing. It's about storytelling. And Matheson's clearly got that in spades.
The book presents Scott Carey, an everyman who gets inadvertently sprayed with toxins on literally the first page. In a neat narrative device, Matheson jumps between Carey's slow realization that he's shrinking every day and his last desperate attempts at survival as he shrinks below an inch and soon into oblivion.
Shrinking Man is surprisingly realistic in its depiction of Carey's struggles as he shrinks past manhood to the size of a doll, and then to a toy, and smaller and smaller until a single cracker crumb is a full meal, and a garden hose is a cavernous tunnel.
It's a hugely visual novel, and though at times a bit confusing in its explanation of the cellar where Carey is trapped, you can really "see" the story as it's happening. Carey takes a logical approach to every problem that arises, so that it's very hard not to identify fully with the character. Even when he makes an obvious mistake, Matheson is smart enough to have Carey realize it.
What's equally great about TSM is that in addition to sometimes heart-pounding suspense (seriously, try not to get excited when the monstrous black widow comes calling), the book is a credible emotional allegory.
Matheson depicts Carey as a proud family-man who has failed in his mild ambitions, and is forced to rely on his older, more successful brother for a job. Because of Carey's lack of breadwinning skills, he believes his wife and daughter have lost respect for him. He's angry at everyone, but most of all himself. And the greater the anger and self-pity, the smaller he gets.
This isn't some fancy-pants literary pretension I'm spouting here - the book pretty clearly lays out the case without stating it overtly. Scott feels like a lesser man, therefore he becomes less of a man.
Like an alcoholic who has to admit his powerlessness, only by realizing he has no control over his life, and taking action to restore his dignity, does Carey even have a chance at survival, let alone transcendence over his plight.
The book has action, comedy, pathos and even sex with a midget. And it's written in a knowing, modern style; easy to forget it was written several years before the end of slavery. Oh wait, it's from the 1950s, not the 1850s. Ah, that explains them having cars.
But fuck all that shit. Be it The Shrinking Man or The Incredible Shrinking Man, it's a book you really must read. At the very least, it'll give you plenty to talk about at NerdCon '04, you incredible pussy.
Review by Crimedog |