Teaser

The Cabal. A secretive group of the worlds most dangerous – and most deranged – criminals. Nothing can derail their plans for the greatest heist of all time. Except, perhaps, an impending alien invasion . . .

Review

Here’s the thing. I love science fiction. Even the messy little corners have their own kind of charm. I want to be a positive force within science fiction. Encourage people to read books. Spread the word about my favourites. Open up the genre and tuck into the juicy innards. I want to experience as much science fiction as I can. How else are we supposed to understand something? The problem is that this inevitably leads to me reading books I don’t enjoy. This is not in itself a bad thing. You can learn a lot from a book you don’t enjoy. If nothing else, it helps you refine your tastes. In my case, it helps put together the tapestry of SF history. The Cabal is only the second SF novel I’ve read from the year 1978. Besides all that, my not enjoying a book doesn’t mean a book is bad. What I see as flaws, others may see as appeal. I’m keenly aware that I am not the sole arbiter of good taste, and I always try and reflect that in my reviews. If I say a book is too character-driven, I mean it’s too character-driven for me. Any time I call a book slow, disjointed, or nonsensical, I’m always talking from a personal perspective. Yet I do also have some academic training when it comes to writing. I can generally tell if something is objectively poorly written.

All of this is a very long way of saying that The Cabal is a dreadful book.

The grammar is fine. The prose is readable. There’s nothing wrong with the font. However, looking at this book forty-seven years after first publication, I can’t help but find it wanting. Wanting to be something other than the mess it is. The Cabal has the feel of an 80s straight-to-video action movie, and not in a good way. It’s the sort of book that gives pulp a bad name.

Let’s start with the characters. There are six, which is already a lot for such a small novel. Each has a chapter-long introduction. It starts fine with a clandestine meeting in an old shop. And then the train careens off the track and leaves no survivors. One character is introduced having an orgy with some nuns. The next (the sole female, who is naturally a depraved nymphomaniac) is introduced indulging in a little post-coital cannibalism. These murderous, lusty lunatics then team up to – and this will sound unlikely, but bear with me – rob the world’s largest sperm bank. Meanwhile, an alien fleet is approaching Earth with an eye to take plunder its wealth, settle its lands, and, presumably, despoil its women.

Following this month’s theme of ‘Junk or Jewel?’ I have no problem whatsoever consigning The Cabal to the Junkpile. It does not quite, however, scar itself with the indignity of a one-star rating. There are two reasons for this. First, the background worldbuilding is intriguing. The future Earth shown here is almost depopulated, whereas the reverse was a general assumption of the time. Yes, the explanation is incredibly shaky (apparently people who don’t work see no need to reproduce and die by the age of forty), but the kernel of innovation is there. What really earns that second star, however, is the fact that I couldn’t stop reading. It’s so bad it, well it’s certainly not good, but it is compelling. Like the proverbial train crash, I couldn’t look away. I had to know how it was all going to end.

That need, however, is not strong enough to compel me to read the rest of the series, even if the cliff-hanger ending clearly wants e to do so. This book remains terrible, and even if Stockholm Syndrome kicked in this time, I’m in no rush to go through it again.

Book Stats

• The Cabal #1
• Published in 1978
• 175 Pages