What do You think about Nekropolis (2002)?
A touching tragedy set in a near future Moroccan society that provides the experience of being a social outcast, a runaway, a refugee, and a foreigner.Writers, read this for point of view: The narrative's shifting viewpoints — from Hariba, the girl who sells herself into slavery; to Akhmim, the man-made life form Hariba loves; to Hariba's mother, who undergoes risk to protect Hariba when she runs away; to Ayesha, Hariba's childhood friend who takes risks to get Hariba and Akhmim out of the country; and back to Hariba, now living in Spain — provide the perspective for deepening layers of tragedy. It shows the entrapment of people and personalities within social structures.
—Shel
All I could think while reading this was that McHugh had a whole hell of a lot she wanted to say about fundamental Islam and / or Arabic society's treatment of women and I wished she would just come out and say it - but then I would remind myself that this was a fiction novel, and she was contentedly making whatever point she wanted to make. I guess. Having just read Infidel by Hirsi Ali made Nekropolis seem like weak criticism indeed, but then that's probably an unfair comparison.I was excited when, in the first few pages, the female protagonist Hariba met the humanoid flesh-and-blood construct (genetically engineered chimera, whatever you want to call it) and ends up asking herself, "Can something not human blaspheme?" It seemed like a blast-off, a signifier of discussion to come, and I was excited to follow. Unfortunately (to me, maybe not to you) it was just one of dozens of little glimpses into Hariba's thoughts. It worked for what it was supposed to do - show us that she was concerned about her religion while not completely subjugated; she's willing to actually question things around her - and it did so effectively. I just disappointed myself by mis-reading it as an opening to a story that wasn't coming.[now I want to read a story about a [g/G]od that exists and where human-engineered human-alikes aren't part of [h/H]is scheme and therefore can't truly belong, and can't blaspheme, and can't go to Heaven or Hell, and man that'd be a good story. I wish I were a good enough writer to do it myself.]McHugh's prose is solid and I thought her pacing was fantastic in that the story never once dragged unnecessarily or shot ahead. It's like an unstoppable slow-crawling tank heading over and through the obstacles. Unfortunately I found myself uninterested in the protagonists, so I just watched this tank from afar with no concern for its passengers or destination. I liked Hariba at first, I thought her situation was fascinating and I anticipated seeing her weaknesses grow into fantastic strengths by the end. Then McHugh lost me by leaving Hariba sick and helpless in the middle of the story and shifting the narrative to other bit players. I was left without her voice for so long that I forgot about why I liked her. Overall I found the stories following Hariba's mother and her best friend more interesting. When the supporting stories are more captivating than the main tale there's a problem.Everything from here on down is [SPOILER ALERT] so stop reading now.I was satisfied with the ending because it felt very true. A new life, new opportunities, new choices - and everything going to shit anyway. I would have been disappointed if it all turned out roses, but McHugh knows better. Even the way it all slowly disintegrated was appropriate; there was no explosion, no drama, just a gradual dissolution, and it felt very true. I just wish I'd actually cared about Hariba's pain at the end.
—Kevin
This is going to be one of those works dearest to my heart - not because they are stimulating, nerve-challenging or fast enough to make my heart race. No, this is far from traditional SF - the plot is of no importance here, nor the characters - what matters is the world and how difficult it makes life for those who question its ways.What makes this novel stand out for me is its setting - it is so rare to see the future in a place that no one has bothered to look at, as if the future will not have it - Morocco.In the 22nd century, Hariba got jessed at twenty-one - a neurological implant that would make her artificially, but inescapably subservient to her master for life, to whom she would be a slave. Five years later, she flees to her home, Nekropolis - an act that could cost her her life, because it is illegal for a slave to flee her master. Even more scandalous, she bids a harni Akhmim, a bio-engineered being equal in status to a jessed human, an android, a lesser-than-human and the property of her ex-master, to flee with him.What is disturbing about this simple work is how realistically it looks at a future fundamentalist theocratic state in command of immense technology - and how it marginalizes certain people through the use of invasive technology. Hariba, despite her repulsion for a socially-despised harni, falls for his intelligence, soft, concerned temperament.Maureen's political concerns are evident - the idea of a chemically indentured woman in an ultra-conservative future and how we willingly tend to give up freedom for security and safety are intriguing, and reflect largely on our own times, despite set in the future. She allows no easy answers, and the farther our freedom is, the steeper is its price.When you read this book, don't expect adventures, twists and turns or fantastic writing skills. Read between the lines - this is ideological SF - it penetrates our own views of life, of what it means to be human, and reflects on how a current political, social, traditional and moral ideology has an impact on the choices we make. Our choices are not mere reflections of our own selves, but that of the place and community we live in.A very short read, nevertheless, it is heart-breaking and liberating at the same time, and will be most easily related to by people who find themselves misfits in their cultures.
—Lit Bug
