The Review of Contemporary Fiction

Radiance by Carter Scholz
James Crossley

Carter Scholz. Radiance. Picador USA, 2002. 388 pp. $24.00.

America’s newfound interest in homeland security has led to a resurgent focus on missile defense; one hopeful by-product of the tense current context is enhanced commercial relevance for Radiance, Carter Scholz’s deserving debut novel of the misbegotten machinations of the military-industrial complex. Politics aside, artistic accomplishment is the real draw here. Scholz already shows off a master’s command of detail, and he uses it effectively to enliven this cautionary tale of funds-devouring weapons projects with unstoppable, inhuman momentum. Corporate chicanery, political expediency, and the buzzing, blooming profusion of time-saving technology combine more convincingly than in any other recent fiction, resulting in a compelling picture of “chaos on the edge of complexity.” Worth particular notice is Scholz’s dialogue, unmatched since Gaddis. Interrupted continually by TVs, radios, computers, and each other, Radiance’s characters jargonize and obfuscate with absolute authenticity. The sheer realism proves Juvenal’s maxim about the impossibility of not writing satire: “I know that some of you think the, the language we use is unimportant, but I want to, to fine tune this mission statement based on DOE’s expectations. First, and I’ve seen most of your drafts, you all know, you should know that we no longer use the word nuclear in our public information. We say national security, special programs, threat reduction, or NBC.” “What’s that, guided peacocks?”; “not just the power you know, it’s the terawatts plus the teraflops”; “Could we, could we possibly use a different word?” “A different word, what do you mean?” “Teraflops sounds like failure. We’re selling this to Congress.” “But, but, that’s the word for it. Trillions of floating point operations per second.” “I’m worried about how it sounds. How about teraops?” “Sounds like a dinosaur.” “No, it sounds optimistic.” Miraculously, when such an ugly word is deployed this skillfully, it actually does. [James Crossley]


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The Review of Contemporary Fiction Radiance by Carter Scholz James Crossley Carter Scholz. Radiance. Picador USA, 2002. 388 pp. $24.00. America’s newfound interest in homeland security has led to a resurgent focus on missile defense; one hopeful by-product of the tense current context is enhanced commercial relevance for Radiance, Carter Scholz’s deserving debut novel of the misbegotten machinations of the military-industrial complex. Politics aside, artistic accomplishment is the real draw here. Scholz already shows off a master’s command of detail, and he uses it effectively to enliven this cautionary tale of funds-devouring weapons projects with unstoppable, inhuman momentum. Corporate chicanery, political expediency, and the buzzing, blooming profusion of time-saving technology combine more convincingly than in any other recent fiction, resulting in a compelling picture of “chaos on the edge of complexity.” Worth particular notice is Scholz’s dialogue, unmatched since Gaddis. Interrupted continually by TVs, radios, computers, and each other, Radiance’s characters jargonize and obfuscate with absolute authenticity. The sheer realism proves Juvenal’s maxim about the impossibility of not writing satire: “I know that some of you think the, the language we use is unimportant, but I want to, to fine tune this mission statement based on DOE’s expectations. First, and I’ve seen most of your drafts, you all know, you should know that we no longer use the word nuclear in our public information. We say national security, special programs, threat reduction, or NBC.” “What’s that, guided peacocks?”; “not just the power you know, it’s the terawatts plus the teraflops”; “Could we, could we possibly use a different word?” “A different word, what do you mean?” “Teraflops sounds like failure. We’re selling this to Congress.” “But, but, that’s the word for it. Trillions of floating point operations per second.” “I’m worried about how it sounds. How about teraops?” “Sounds like a dinosaur.” “No, it sounds optimistic.” Miraculously, when such an ugly word is deployed this skillfully, it actually does. [James Crossley]

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