Cephalopods & Super Soldiers. Oh my!
I have a friend who’s been recommending Greig Beck’s books to me for a while. They knew he has a tendency to bring together a lot of elements I like. So, based on their recommendation, I finally gave one of his earliest books a try. Beneath the Dark Ice is the first in a series of books featuring protagonist Alex Hunter. The plot, story, themes, and initial idea behind this book were pretty great. The execution, on the other hand, was a little wobbly and uneven.
A plane carrying a CEO and some of his executives crashes in Antarctica. On impact, it exposes a massive cave and slides down into the icy maw. A rescue team is dispatched, but shortly after they go down into the cave they also disappear. Enter Captain Alex Hunter, his team of commandos, petrobiologist Aimee Weir, and the usual assortment of other scientific experts who always seem to be dispatched when such things happen in a novel.
This book has a lot of things going on which I typically enjoy in a good beach read. There are strange disappearances, adventure to exotic places, a strange lost civilization, nods to a great historical mystery (in this case Roanoke Island), a terrifying primordial monster (in this case a giant cephalopod), blood and guts gore caused by said monster, tension (will they make it?), body horror (worms!), slimy impersonators, cool technology, an insane Russian or two, and reverential nods to Lovecraft (did I mention the giant cephalopod?). If there are any movie producers reading, this is basically my dream movie right here. It is exceptionally rare to find all these elements together in one place.
Beck’s writing style is solid enough. There are times when the prose is slightly choppy and uneven. But let's be honest, this isn't the sort of a book you pick up because you want to feel classy and refined. This is a testosterone-fueled romp through the great mysteries of the unknown. This is the paperback you bring to the beach, maybe hide the cover of from those around you, and enjoy the hell out of.
The biggest weakness in the novel, in my opinion, is the protagonist. I'm not going to lie, I found myself groaning and eye rolling a lot over our story’s hero, Alex Hunter. In his backstory, he was shot in the head by a Chechen operative and survived. The brain damage inexplicably “unlocked neural pathways” that resulted in fundamental systemic changes which are hard to justify and often a bit silly. He is now able to lift large boulders (neural changes affect bone density?), see in total darkness (think Riddick), observe heat fluctuations on people's skin (infrared vision?), and “just know” when danger is near (basically, spidey sense). And then there’s the name Alex Hunter. Really?! I guess names like Bo Savage, Jack Merck, and Dirk Lethal were already taken.
To some extent, Alex Hunter’s excesses can be excused. A saving grace for this book is that it is not pretending to be something it isn’t. This isn’t Proust. Some days you just want to read a tale where a heroically heroic hero does heroic things in the most heroic way possible while thinking heroic thoughts. But even so, there were still more than a few times I found Hunter just plain annoying.
My favorite part of this book is the way Beck manages to coherently bring in so many elements without having them trip over each other. On their own, they are each done better by others. Dan Brown is better for ancient mysteries. James Rollins does archaeological action better. Steve Alten is better at writing about primordial monsters from the deep. Nick Cutter’s body horror is more unsettling. Years after his death, no one has improved on Michael Crichton for penning a good techno-thriller. Even so, few authors manage to bring all those storytelling styles and elements together. Those who try, usually make a tangled mess or it or take up 800 pages. Like I said before, except for the protagonist maybe, this book is close to everything I’d ever want in a movie or beach read.
In the final analysis, this book is a thumbs up. It definitely isn’t a book for everyone. There is clearly a lot of testosterone flowing through the pages of this book. The women quiver and the rippling muscles of the men have ripples of their own. It drifts into the realm of the silly from time to time, but honestly it’s no worse than half of the big budget summer action films we flood the theaters to see each year. Ultimately, that’s probably the best metric to decide whether this one is for you. If you get a kick out of those big blockbuster flicks that always keep one eye on the 15 year old boy demographic, you’ll probably enjoy this one too. On that level, it’s fun page-candy.
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