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The Janus

Conjunction

OCTOBER 1998

At the time of its release, The Janus Conjunction was a real divider of opinion.

It’s many critics picked holes in author Trevor Baxendale’s scientific inaccuracies (though no-one picked up on the one about the time-travelling, dimensionally-transcendental police telephone box and its bicardial pilot) and its patent lack of freshness, whilst its passionate defenders lauded the author’s gallant use of colossal, cosmic imagery and unsettling, tiny horrors. In my view though, this one isn’t anything to get even the slightest bit excited about either way.

Those familiar with Baxendale’s many Doctor Who works will be able to attest to the man’s outlandishly grisly, gruesome style, and The Janus Conjunction is a prime example of this. This novel features lurid terrors ranging from the personal to the profound, all of which are expertly evoked through the author’s almost callous, no-nonsense prose. From a massacre of babies to the nihilistic nightmare of the Janus super bomb, there is guaranteed to be at least one peculiar horror here that would get under your skin if you were to pick this one up.

However, save for in its most explicit moments, The Janus Conjunction did a remarkably shoddy job of holding my attention. Whilst the Doctor and Sam are each well portrayed, I found Baxendale’s cast of supporting characters to be completely unremarkable. Zemler was a particular disappointment, always threatening to step outside his cipher’s skin but never quite managing it.

Furthermore, the plot unfurls at a

leisurely pace that feels entirely

at odds with the level of threat

that Baxendale is trying to build

up. This does at least result in an

exceptionally tense and fraught

finale though, particularly for the

balding Sam who is forced to

look oblivion square in the eye. Her thoughts on her impending death are enthralling to read about; I especially love how, in what she believes to be her final moments, she succumbs to uncharacteristic bitterness and spite. It may not be romantic, but it smacks of truth.

And so whilst The Janus Conjunction does have its rewards for those able to endure its two-hundred and eighty odd pages without tapping out, it’s not a book that stands up well today, particularly now that we’ve been utterly spoiled by the new series and a decade of

Big Finish. I get the feeling that Baxendale wanted The Janus Conjunction to be a more ambitious Caves of Androzani, but instead it’s just a poor man’s Colony in Space.

Copyright © E.G. Wolverson 2010

E.G. Wolverson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

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