Metro Pulse/Pulp/Anonymous Rex, Casual Rex

Comment
on this story

Hybrid mystery/sci-fi/comedy novel engagingly juggles genre conventions

by Paul Lewis

Were you disappointed in Jurassic Park 3? No one would blame you. But if you think dinosaurs aren't cool, you're dead wrong. If you've forgotten about them, that's probably exactly what they want.

You see, dinos never died out in some massive conflagration. They simply adapted, shrank, lost some of their more savage urges, and found clever ways of masquerading as Homo sapiens, the dominant planetary species. They're all around us, working in every conceivable trade: doctors, lawyers—yes, even as hard-boiled private investigators.

It's a gimmick to be sure, one which requires a tenuous balance across the gaping chasm representing the distinct formulae of science and crime fictions. Eric Garcia, author of Anonymous Rex and its new prequel Casual Rex (you can see where he's going with these titles, can't you?), makes it work, and work freakishly well by adhering to a simple, oft-forgotten tack—he tells a story that makes you want to keep turning the pages. And then, just in case you start to over-analyze the proceedings, he renders said story as funny as that Godzilla remake with Matthew Broderick, only in a good way. There's not really a way to characterize these books other than by referring to them as "romps," and if that's your cup of tea, then this particular Earl Grey is warm and refreshing.

Garcia's high-wire act introduces Vincent Rubio, a Los Angeles-based Velociraptor with a keen ear for patter and a razor sharp sense of smell. In Casual Rex (Villard Books, $23.95), he and partner Ernie Watson, a Carnotaur, are hired by Ernie's ex-wife to locate her nephew, who has joined an ancestor-worshipping cult of fellow dinos called Progressives who feel their proximity to humans is tainting their ability to be natural creatures. Their investigation takes them to an immaculate religious Progressive compound in the Hollywood Hills, a Progressive seminar on a secluded Hawaiian island, and the Tar Pits of L.A. and mixes them up with dino deprogrammers, crazed cult members, and a sect-leading femme fatale named Circe whose innate odor of strong, addictive herbs drives Vincent ga-ga. Add their diminutive landlord hiring them to re-procure his rare human penis attachment ("The Mussolini"), stolen by his regular prostitute and a bundle of male dinos who cross-dress as human females, and you have, well, something unique.

Anonymous Rex (Berkley Publishing Group, $12.95) is more of the same, but more appropriately noirish. Vincent has hit the skids following Ernie's mysterious death on a case in New York, slumming on random cases and barely making ends meet while sinking deeper into his basil addiction. The death of a wealthy dino and a destructive fire in a late-night lizard hangout put Vincent on an insurance investigation case involving the greatest dinosaur taboo on the books—inter-species sex with humans. Add a plot involving gene-splicing, doctored autopsy photos, and a link to (gasp!) his partner's death, and the reader is left with a filling nosh of story. Anonymous is also the more accomplished mystery read; Casual is much more an adventure book with mystery elements.

Garcia's greatest asset is his likable and endearing protagonist, Vincent, despite the fact that he's entirely non-human (and in Anonymous, a junkie). Vincent is at his best when he's in over his scaly head, allowing his natural instincts for detective work to shine. But he also screws up enough to qualify as a flawed everyman, or at least a popular drinking buddy with a yarn to spin. Detective fiction lives and dies with the detective character, and while Rubio may not yet be Spade, Spenser, or Robicheaux, he's compelling enough to warrant continued trips down the bookstore aisle.

If these books have a weakness, it's that their structure very obviously resembles that of a screenplay, as if they are ready-made vehicles for adaptation (Anonymous Rex is currently being readied as a television project for the Sci-Fi Channel). Garcia relies on resolving his stories in large epic-scale confrontations wherein most of his plot points are wrapped up and final twists tweaked, while also delivering a visually entertaining set piece. It's a fairly shameless device, and not necessarily the most inventive storytelling, but considering the tales they're servicing, these endings are entirely apropos. Garcia's third Rex book will be the already-titled Hot and Sweaty Rex (you can really see where he's going with these titles now, can't you?). If he can continue to make his conceit eminently accessible and entertaining, the audience for these books will only continue to grow, and grow vocally.