STORY PLACEMENT THIS STORY TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE NOVELS "HOPE" AND "TRADING FUTURES."
WRITTEN BY JONATHAN MORRIS
RECOMMENDED PURCHASE OFFICIAL BBC 'EIGHTH DOCTOR' PAPERBACK (ISBN 0-563-53847-3) RELEASED IN MARCH 2002.
BLURB Imagine a war that has lasted centuries, a war WHICH has transformed an entire planet into a desolate No Man's Land. A war where time itself is being
used as a weapon. of decelerated time and bring the enemy to a standstill. You can create storms of accelerated time and reduce the opposition to dust in a matter of
seconds. reached a stalemate. Neither SIDE HAS made any gains for over a
hundred years. COMPANIONS arrive at Isolation Station Forty, a MILITARY research STATION on the verge of a breakthrough which COULD change the
course of the war. way to send soldiers back in time. But time travel is a primitive, unpredictable and dangerous business. And not without its own sinister side effects... |
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Anachrophobia MARCH 2002
Jonathan Morris is one of my preferred Doctor Who writers. His many scripts for Big Finish Productions have each been with laden with wit and worry in equal measure, and his earlier novel, Festival of Death, is generally regarded as being one of BBC Books’ finest offerings. Anachrophobia, however, is something of an oddity. A cursory glance of its René Magritte-inspired cover is all that’s needed to get a feel for its surrealist tone, but pencils and diagrams are needed to fully get one’s head around the workings of the plot. Whether that’s a blight or a boon is very much in the eye of the beholder.
In a nutshell, Anachrophobia is about a conflict where the weapons being used are temporal in nature. Ever since The End of the World, the phrase “Time War” has conjured up images of Bow Ships and Saucers; of Cruciforms and Nightmare Childs. The television series has, probably rather wisely, chosen not to expound upon the mechanics of such a war, keeping its references as vague and as lyrical as possible. Back in 2002, however, Morris showed no such fear, revelling in the horrors borne of directed temporal weapons. Anachrophobia’s prosperous prose describes soldiers with ancient, withered limbs hanging from otherwise youthful bodies; combatants whose faces have been replaced by clocks, as an insubstantial force enslaves them to its will; and, most chillingly of all, fear of these things running rampant. Indeed, this book’s compound title is an apt one as, within the confines of Isolation Station Forty, Morris’ takes the fears of his protagonists and milks them for all they’re worth.
The author’s handling of the three regular characters is sublime here, particularly the Doctor, whose newfound frailty is finally given the attention that it has warranted since the removal of his second heart. What I find so forceful about Morris’ rendering of the Doctor is that he is clearly trying to be his old self – all that curiosity and zeal is as patent as ever it was - but he’s hampered by the almost human limitations that come with having just one heart. All he wants to do is throw himself headlong into the adventure, but he can’t be who he once was - he has to sleep at night, for heaven’s sake. It’s actually quite painful to read.
However, the Doctor’s weakness allows Morris to showcase the strength of his companions. Fitz is dashed heroic here, taking on the mantle of not only the Doctor’s physical protector, but his mental guardian too. He tends to his friend’s needs, but plays those needs down in front of him. Anji, for her part, does much the same, showing her true colours after the perfidy of Hope. Sadly (and quite ironically, really) the novel’s supporting characters are a faceless bunch, with the sole exception of Mr Mistletoe, who can’t really claim to be a new character.
Furthermore, as I’ve already intimated, the narrative is quite tortuous, rivalling the complexity of Festival of Death but not sharing any of its grace. Matters do not become clear until right at the death, when Sabbath appears to explain to the Doctor – and thus the reader – exactly what has been going on and why. But even despite its gaucherie, Anachrophobia’s coda is tremendously exciting, building upon the momentum that’s been snowballing since The Slow Empire whilst at the same time demonstrating the lengths – and indeed the depths – that the Doctor’s new archenemy will go to in order to achieve his goals, the morality of which is very much open to debate. At least for now…
Overall then, Anachrophobia is hard work, but worth it. Deft characterisation and harrowing prose are fused with wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey shenanigans that Steven Moffat would be proud of, leaving the reader with a series of nightmarish images and cruel concepts to haunt their dreams for a long time thereafter.
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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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