Paul Di Filippo Reviews Starter Villain by John Scalzi

Starter Villain, John Scalzi (Tor 978-0765389220, hardcover, 272pp, $28.99) September 2023

Graham Greene was fond of labeling some of his books as “entertainments,” implying that they were lighter, less serious, more pop-culture-oriented than his “novels.” Other artists have made similar distinctions, either implicitly or explicitly, switching from solemn works to less weighty ones and then back again. For instance, after the gravitas-laden Nebraska album, Bruce Springsteen chose to release Born in the USA.

I think John Scalzi likes to swap it up in this fashion. After finishing a widescreen space opera, the Interdependency Trilogy (2017-2020), he gave us in 2022 a very sleek and non-fraught adventure, The Kaiju Preservation Society (reviewed by me, right here in these very pages). Now, remaining in the light-hearted “entertainments” mode, he delivers a wild thriller-cum-postmodern-fairy-tale which goes down smooth as a cold hand-crafted beer on a hot summer day.

Having made this somewhat artificial distinction between two types of narratives, I should affirm that “entertainments” are not easier to construct than heavy-duty “novels.” In fact, they might be harder to craft than their more solemn brethren. Entertainments have to flow smoothly and fast, be witty and frothy (traits which do not preclude deeper resonances or frissons or morals), and feature plots designed to keep the readers turning pages. No word-count-bolstering longueurs or pages of arty descriptions or philosophical disquisitions allowed. In other words, a cri de coeur can be baggy and shapeless, while a bon mot has to be honed razor-thin.

Scalzi certainly succeeds along these vectors in Starter Villain. His amiable, smart-but-schlubby protagonist has us on his side and in his pocket from the start. The plot moves like a runaway train from one outrageous shock to another. The supporting characters are all quirky and believable. And the dialogue crackles and snaps, achieving laugh-out-loud effects more often than not. Finally, the climax is unforeseeable, and the denouement truly satisfying.

Charlies Fitzer, divorced, lives alone, save for his cat Hera. A substitute teacher barely scraping by, he has no close relatives or friends. He meditates on a half-hearted scheme to buy a local pub and turn his life around (a very Blaylockian motif), but that hinges on an ungettable bank loan. At this downcast moment a strange woman walks into his life: Mathilda “Til” Morrison, representative from Charlie’s recently deceased billionaire Uncle Jake—whom Charlie has not seen or heard from since age five. Jake’s final request was for Charlie to officiate at the uncle’s funeral. For this favor, there might be a small recompense. Charlie agrees, and immediately discovers that Uncle Jake was not a simple parking-garage mogul. The funeral is attended by a host of evil desperadoes who all seem intent mainly on spitting on Jake’s corpse.

Thus opens up the dangerous rabbit hole down which Charlie plunges, with the aid of super-efficient and ruthless Til Morrison, formerly his Uncle’s Gal Friday. To cut to the chase, it turns out that Uncle Jake was part of a network of global bad guys—real Ernst Stavro Blofeld avatars—many of whom belonged to a group called the Lombardy Convocation. Charlie has been nominated as Uncle Jake’s heir, which immediately puts the naïve amateur “starter villain” head-to-head with his rivals. He is taken to a Caribbean island HQ, complete with active volcano, intelligent talking dolphins, and a legion of Hera the cat’s comrades, who are also sapient and able to communicate via keyboard and screen. (Hera was assigned by Jake to Charlie’s domestic retinue as a spy and bodyguard.). What follows is Charlie’s ever-surprising, sink-or-swim deadly initiation into the super-villain lifestyle. Can he survive numerous assassination attempts from his peers, deal with the militant dolphins who wish to unionize, parlay a cave full of treasures into a form of life insurance, and forestall the continuing attempts of Tobias the Stabber to cut him off at the knees?

The only thing I could find missing from this scenario is a little love interest. Til Morrison, basically the sole female character of note, is all business and too scary to qualify. Arguably, Charlie is so busy trying to stay alive that he’s got little time for romance. Still, it would have been nice to see him with a supportive partner of some companionability. Hera actually comes closest.

I described this book as a thriller-cum-postmodern-fairy-tale, and the fairy tale I had in mind is Dick Whittington and His Cat. That account of a poor humble youth elevated to riches and status certainly maps onto the novel. The Bond-style thriller bits are all lovingly explicated with some nice burnishings and twists from the standard presentation. For instance, Chapter 22 opens with Charlie’s complaint that he has to conduct high-level dealings on a laptop using Zoom, instead of from a mission-control style high-tech bunker with a “three-hundred-inch screen.” Told by one of his employees that such a setup would run about fifty million dollars, Charlie wisely and parsimoniously squelches his dream.

In the end, Scalzi’s accomplished tale most reminds me of a classic SF book that features an unfulfilled male inheriting something life-changing from an uncle: The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything by John D. MacDonald. Scalzi takes the controls of this carnival ride from the hands of his predecessor and shows us that this arcade amusement is still full of life.

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