The Water Knife by Paolo Bacigalupi
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The Water Knife

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NATIONAL BESTSELLER • A "fresh, genre-bending thriller” (Los Angeles Times) set in the near future when water is scarce and a spy, a hardened journalist and a young Texas migrant find themselves pawns in a corrupt game.

"Think Chinatown meets Mad Max." NPR, All Things Considered

In the near future, the Colorado River has dwindled to a trickle. Detective, assassin, and spy, Angel Velasquez “cuts” water for the Southern Nevada Water Authority, ensuring that its lush arcology developments can bloom in Las Vegas. When rumors of a game-changing water source surface in Phoenix, Angel is sent south, hunting for answers that seem to evaporate as the heat index soars and the landscape becomes more and more oppressive. There, he encounters Lucy Monroe, a hardened journalist with her own agenda, and Maria Villarosa, a young Texas migrant, who dreams of escaping north. As bodies begin to pile up, the three find themselves pawns in a game far bigger and more corrupt than they could have imagined, and when water is more valuable than gold, alliances shift like sand, and the only truth in the desert is that someone will have to bleed if anyone hopes to drink.

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ISBN-10

080417153X

ISBN-13

978-0804171533

Print length

384 pages

Language

English

Publisher

Vintage

Publication date

April 04, 2016

Dimensions

5.1 x 0.8 x 8 inches

Item weight

2.31 pounds


Popular Highlights in this book

  • Anyway, the thing he said that stuck with me was that people are alone here in America. They’re all alone. And they don’t trust anyone except themselves, and they don’t rely on anyone except themselves.

    Highlighted by 348 Kindle readers

  • That odd mix of broken souls, bleeding hearts, and predators who occupied the shattered places of the world. Human spackle, filling the cracks of disaster.

    Highlighted by 328 Kindle readers

  • You didn’t judge people for caving under pressure; you judged them for those few times when they were lucky enough to have any choice at all.

    Highlighted by 319 Kindle readers

  • Sweat was a body’s history, compressed into jewels, beaded on the brow, staining shirts with salt.

    Highlighted by 270 Kindle readers


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B00NRQOR26

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1630 KB

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Editorial Reviews

Best Books of 2015 • NPR Book Concierge, Best Books of 2015 • Kansas City Star, Best Fiction of 2015 • Paste Magazine, Best Fiction of 2015

“[A] fresh, genre-bending thriller.... Reading Paolo Bacigalupi's richly imagined novel The Water Knife brings to mind the movie Chinatown. Although one is set in the past and the other in a dystopian future, both are neo-noir tales with jaded antiheroes and ruthless kingpins who wield water as lethal weapons to control life—and mete out death.... Bacigalupi weaves page-turning action with zeitgeisty themes.... His use of water as sacred currency evokes Frank Herbert's Dune. The casual violence and slang may bring to mind A Clockwork Orange. The book's nervous energy recalls William Gibson at his cyberpunk best. Its visual imagery evokes Dust Bowl Okies in the Great Depression and the catastrophic 1928 failure of the St. Francis Dam that killed 600 people and haunted its builder, Mulholland, into the grave.... Reading the novel in 93-degree March weather while L.A. newscasts warned of water rationing and extended drought, I felt the hot panting breath of the desert on my nape and I shivered, hoping that Bacigalupi's vision of the future won't be ours.” —Denise Hamilton, Los Angeles Times

“[A] water-wars thriller set in the Southwest only a few decades from now.... While Bacigalupi's environmental message could not be more powerful, it's neatly embedded in a nonstop action plot, full of murders and betrayals, that should satisfy thriller readers who didn't even think they cared about these issues.” —Gary K. Wolfe, The Chicago Tribune

“Mr. Bacigalupi’s is the most thought-provoking of the recent apocalypses. It’s a very timely read for policy-makers, as well as anyone living in the threatened American West. That’s the thing about sci-fi authors: Some of them really mean it.” —Tom Shippey, The Wall Street Journal

“Residents in the southwestern United States enduring that water crisis will appreciate the precision with which Bacigalupi imagines our thirsty future.... Bacigalupi is a grim, efficient and polished narrator.... Our waterless future looks hot—and filled with conflict.”—Hector Tobar, The Washington Post

“Bacigalupi's characters are engagingly unpredictable, and his story blasts along like a twin-battery Tesla. The Water Knife is splendid near-future fiction, a compelling thriller–and inordinately fun.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer

“A noir-ish, cinematic thriller set in the midst of a water war between Las Vegas and Phoenix.... Think Chinatown meets Mad Max.”—NPR, All Things Considered

“Paolo Bagicalupi's new near-future thriller arrives at a depressingly appropriate moment.... The Water Knife is a carefully constructed thriller, with elements ofChinatown and The Maltese Falcon. But the novel ultimately transcends its pulpier origins. Bacigalupi offers a carefully calibrated warning of what might happen if the US refuses to address global climate change and its own water-wasting ways. It's one we ignore at our peril.” —Michael Berry, Earth Island Journal

"These days are coming, and as always fiction explains them better than fact. This is a spectacular thriller, wonderfully imagined and written, and racing through it will make you think—and make you thirsty.” —Lee Child, author of Personal

"An intense thriller and a deeply insightful vision of the coming century, laid out in all its pain and glory. It's a water knife indeed, right to the heart." —Kim Stanley Robinson, author of Aurora

"Anyone can write about the future. Paolo Bacigalupi writes about the future that we're making today, if we keep going the way we are. It makes his writing beautiful . . . and terrifying."—John Scalzi, author of Lock In

"The Water Knife is an noir-tinged, apocalyptic vision of the near-future: What will the world be like, and how will we live in it? Bacigalupi already seems to live there. Once I started, I couldn’t put it down.” —Kelly Link, author of Get in Trouble

“A fresh cautionary tale classic, depicting an America newly shaped by scarcity of our most vital resource. The pages practically turn themselves in a tense, taut plot of crosses and double-crosses, given added depth by riveting characters. This brutal near-future thriller seems so plausible in the world it depicts that you will want to stock up on bottled water.”—Library Journal, starred review

"The frightening details of how the world might suffer from catastrophic drought are vividly imagined. The way the novel's environmental nightmare affects society, as individuals and larger entities—both official and criminal—vie for a limited and essential resource, feels solid, plausible, and disturbingly believable. The dust storms, Texan refugees, skyrocketing murder rate, and momentary hysteria of a public ravenous for quick hits of sensational news seem like logical extensions of our current reality. An absorbing . . . thriller full of violent action."--Kirkus

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Sample

Chapter 1

There were stories in sweat.

The sweat of a woman bent double in an onion field, working fourteen hours under the hot sun, was different from the sweat of a man as he approached a checkpoint in Mexico, praying to La Santa Muerte that the federales weren’t on the payroll of the enemies he was fleeing. The sweat of a ten-­year-­old boy staring into the barrel of a SIG Sauer was different from the sweat of a woman struggling across the desert and praying to the Virgin that a water cache was going to turn out to be exactly where her coyote’s map told her it would be.

Sweat was a body’s history, compressed into jewels, beaded on the brow, staining shirts with salt. It told you everything about how a person had ended up in the right place at the wrong time, and whether they would survive another day.

To Angel Velasquez, perched high above Cypress 1’s central bore and watching Charles Braxton as he lumbered up the Cascade Trail, the sweat on a lawyer’s brow said that some people weren’t near as important as they liked to think.

Braxton might strut in his offices and scream at his secretaries. He might stalk courtrooms like an ax murderer hunting new victims. But no matter how much swagger the lawyer carried, at the end of the day Catherine Case owned his ass—­and when Catherine Case told you to get something done quick, you didn’t just run, pendejo, you ran until your heart gave out and there wasn’t no running left.

Braxton ducked under ferns and stumbled past banyan climbing vines, following the slow rise of the trail as it wound around the cooling bore. He shoved through groups of tourists posing for selfies before the braided waterfalls and hanging gardens that spilled down the arcology’s levels. He kept on, flushed and dogged. Joggers zipped past him in shorts and tank tops, their ears flooded with music and the thud of their healthy hearts.

You could learn a lot from a man’s sweat.

Braxton’s sweat meant he still had fear. And to Angel, that meant he was still reliable.

Braxton spied Angel perched on the bridge where it arced across the wide expanse of the central bore. He waved tiredly, motioning Angel to come down and join him. Angel waved back from above, smiling, pretending not to understand.

“Come down!” Braxton called up.

Angel smiled and waved again.

The lawyer slumped, defeated, and set himself to the final assault on Angel’s aerie.

Angel leaned against the rail, enjoying the view. Sunlight filtered down from above, dappling bamboo and rain trees, illuminating tropical birds and casting pocket-­mirror flashes on mossy koi ponds.

Far below, people were smaller than ants. Not really people at all, more just the shapes of tourists and residents and casino workers, as in the biotects’ development models of Cypress 1: scale-­model people sipping scale-­model lattes on scale-­model coffee shop terraces. Scale-­model kids chasing butterflies on the nature trails, while scale-­model gamblers split and doubled down at the scale-­model blackjack tables in the deep grottoes of the casinos.

Braxton came lumbering onto the bridge. “Why didn’t you come down?” he gasped. “I told you to come down.” He dropped his briefcase on the boards and sagged against the rail.

“What you got for me?” Angel asked.

“Papers,” Braxton wheezed. “Carver City. We just got the judge’s decision.” He waved an exhausted hand at the briefcase. “We crushed them.”

“And?”

Braxton tried to say more but couldn’t get the words out. His face was puffy and flushed. Angel wondered if he was about to have a heart attack, then tried to decide how much he would care if he did.

The first time Angel met Braxton had been in the lawyer’s offices in the headquarters of the Southern Nevada Water Authority. The man had a floor-­to-­ceiling view of Carson Creek, Cypress 1’s fly-­fishing river, where it cascaded through various levels of the arcology before being pumped back to the top of the system to run though a new cleaning cycle. A big expensive overlook onto rainbow trout and water infrastructure, and a good reminder of why Braxton filed his lawsuits on SNWA’s behalf.

Braxton had been lording over his three assistants—­all coincidentally svelte girls hooked straight from law school with promises of permanent residence permits in Cypress—­and he’d talked to Angel like an afterthought. Just another one of Catherine Case’s pit bulls that he tolerated for as long as Angel kept leaving other, bigger dogs dead in his wake.

Angel, in turn, had spent the meeting trying to figure out how a man like Braxton had gotten so large. People outside Cypress didn’t fatten up like Braxton did. In all Angel’s early life, he’d never seen a creature quite like Braxton, and he found himself fascinated, admiring the fleshy raiment of a man who knew himself secure.

If the end of the world came like Catherine Case said it would, Angel thought Braxton would make good eating. And that in turn made it easier to let the Ivy League pendejo live when he wrinkled his nose at Angel’s gang tattoos and the knife scar that scored his face and throat.

Times they do change, Angel thought as he watched the sweat drip from Braxton’s nose.

“Carver City lost on appeal,” Braxton gasped finally. “Judges were going to rule this morning, but we got the courtrooms double-­booked. Got the whole ruling delayed until end of business. Carver City will be running like crazy to file a new appeal.” He picked up his briefcase and popped it open. “They aren’t going to make it.”

He handed over a sheaf of laser-­hologrammed documents. “These are your injunctions. You’ve got until the courts open tomorrow to enforce our legal rights. Once Carver City files an appeal, it’s a different story. Then you’re looking at civil liabilities, minimally. But until courts open tomorrow, you’re just defending the private property rights of the citizens of the great state of Nevada.”

Angel started going through the documents. “This all of it?”

“Everything you need, as long as you seal the deal tonight. Once business opens tomorrow, it’s back to courtroom delays and he-­said, she-­said.”

“And you’ll have done a lot of sweating for nothing.”

Braxton jabbed a thick finger at Angel. “That better not happen.”

Angel laughed at the implied threat. “I already got my housing permits, cabrón. Go frighten your secretaries.”

“Just because you’re Case’s pet doesn’t mean I can’t make your life miserable.”

Angel didn’t look up from the injunctions. “Just because you’re Case’s dog don’t mean I can’t toss you off this bridge.”

The seals and stamps on the injunctions all looked like they were in order.

“What have you got on Case that makes you so untouchable?” Braxton asked.

“She trusts me.”

Braxton laughed, disbelieving, as Angel put the injunctions back in order.

Angel said, “People like you write everything down because you know everyone is a liar. It’s how you lawyers do.” He slapped Braxton in the chest with the legal documents, grinning. “And that’s why Case trusts me and treats you like a dog—­you’re the one who writes things down.”

He left Braxton glaring at him from the bridge.

As Angel made his way down the Cascade Trail, he pulled out his cell and dialed.

Catherine Case answered on the first ring, clipped and formal. “This is Case.”

Angel could imagine her, Queen of the Colorado, leaning over her desk, with maps of the state of Nevada and the Colorado River Basin floor to ceiling on the walls around her, her domain laid out in real-­time data feeds—­the veins of every tributary blinking red, amber, or green indicating stream flow in cubic feet per second. Numbers flickering over the various catchment basins of the Rocky Mountains—­red, amber, green—­monitoring how much snow cover remained and variation off the norm as it melted. Other numbers, displaying the depths of reservoirs and dams, from the Blue Mesa Dam on the Gunnison, to the Navajo Dam on the San Juan, to the Flaming Gorge Dam on the Green. Over it all, emergency purchase prices on streamflows and futures offers scrolled via NASDAQ, available open-­market purchase options if she needed to recharge the depth in Lake Mead, the unforgiving numbers that ruled her world as relentlessly as she ruled Angel’s and Braxton’s.

“Just talked to your favorite lawyer,” Angel said.

“Please tell me you didn’t antagonize him again.”

“That pendejo is a piece of work.”

“You’re not so easy, either. You have everything you need?”

“Well, Braxton gave me a lot of dead trees, that’s for sure.” He hefted the sheaf of legal documents. “Didn’t know so much paper still existed.”

“We like to make sure we’re all on the same page,” Case said dryly.

“Same fifty or sixty pages, more like.”

Case laughed. “It’s the first rule of bureaucracy: any message worth sending is worth sending in triplicate.”

Angel exited the Cascade Trail, winding down toward where elevator banks would whisk him to central parking. “Figure we should be up in about an hour,” he said.

“I’ll be monitoring.”

“This is a milk run, boss. Braxton’s papers here got about a hundred different signatures say I can do anything I want. This is old-­school cease and desist. Camel Corps could do this one on their own, I bet. Glorified FedEx is what this is.”

“No.” Case’s voice hardened. “Ten years of back-­and-­forth in the courts is what this is, and I want it finished. For good this time. I’m tired of giving away Cypress housing permits to some judge’s nephew just so we can keep appealing for something that’s ours by right.”

“No worries. When we’re done, Carver City won’t know what hit them.”

“Good. Let me know when it’s finished.”

She clicked off. Angel caught an express elevator as it was closing. He stepped to the glass as the elevator began its plunge. It accelerated, plummeting down through the levels of the arcology. People blurred past: mothers pushing double strollers; hourly girlfriends clinging to the arms of weekend boyfriends; tourists from all over the world, snapping pics and messaging home they had seen the Hanging Gardens of Las Vegas. Ferns and waterfalls and coffee shops.

Down on the entertainment floors, the dealers would be changing shifts. In the hotels the twenty-­four-­hour party people would be waking up and taking their first shots of vodka, spraying glitter on their skin. Maids and waiters and busboys and cooks and maintenance staff would all be hard at work, striving to keep their jobs, fighting to keep their Cypress housing permits.

You’re all here because of me, Angel thought. Without me, you’d all be little tumbleweeds. Little bone-­and-­paper-­skin bodies. No dice to throw, no hookers to buy, no strollers to push, no drinks at your elbow, no work to do . . .

Without me, you’re nothing.

The elevator hit bottom with a soft chime. Its doors opened to Angel’s Tesla, waiting with the valet.

Half an hour later he was striding across the boiling tarmac of Mulroy Airbase, heat waves rippling off the tarmac, and the sun setting bloody over the Spring Mountains. One hundred twenty degrees, and the sun only finally finishing the job. The floodlights of the base were coming on, adding to the burn.

“You got our papers?” Reyes shouted over the whine of Apaches.

“Feds love our desert asses!” Angel held up the documents. “For the next fourteen hours, anyway!”

Reyes barely smiled in response, just turned and started initiating launch orders.

Colonel Reyes was a big black man who’d been a recon marine in Syria and Venezuela, before moving into hot work in the Sahel and then Chihuahua, before finally dropping into his current plush job with the Nevada guardies.

State of Nevada paid better, he said.

Reyes waved Angel aboard the command chopper. Around them attack helicopters were spinning up, burning synthetic fuel by the barrel—­Nevada National Guard, aka Camel Corps, aka those fucking Vegas guardies, depending on who had just had a Hades missile sheaf fired up their asses—­all of them gearing up to inflict the will of Catherine Case upon her enemies.

One of the guardies tossed Angel a flak jacket. Angel shrugged into Kevlar as Reyes settled into the command seat and started issuing orders. Angel plugged military glass and an earbug into the chopper’s comms so he could listen to the chatter.

Their gunship lurched skyward. A pilot’s-eye data feed spilled into Angel’s vision, the graffiti of war coloring Las Vegas with bright hungry tags: target calculations, relevant structures, friend/foe markings, Hades missile loads, and .50-­cal belly-­gun ammo info, fuel warnings, heat signals on the ground . . .

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About the authors

Paolo Bacigalupi

Paolo Bacigalupi

Paolo Bacigalupi’s writing has appeared in WIRED Magazine, Slate, Medium, Salon.com, and High Country News, as well as The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine. His short fiction been nominated for three Nebula Awards, four Hugo Awards, and won the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award for best science fiction short story of the year. It is collected in PUMP SIX AND OTHER STORIES, a Locus Award winner for Best Collection and also a Best Book of the Year by Publishers Weekly.

His debut novel THE WINDUP GIRL was named by TIME Magazine as one of the ten best novels of 2009, and also won the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, Compton Crook, and John W. Campbell Memorial Awards. Internationally, it has won the Seiun Award (Japan), The Ignotus Award (Spain), The Kurd-Laßwitz-Preis (Germany), and the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire (France).

His debut young adult novel, SHIP BREAKER, was a Micheal L. Printz Award Winner, and a National Book Award Finalist, and its sequel, THE DROWNED CITIES, was a 2012 Kirkus Reviews Best of YA Book, A 2012 VOYA Perfect Ten Book, and 2012 Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist.

He has also written ZOMBIE BASEBALL BEATDOWN for middle-grade children, about zombies, baseball, and, of all things, meatpacking plants. Another novel for teens, THE DOUBT FACTORY, a contemporary thriller about public relations and the product defense industry was a both an Edgar Award and Locus Award Finalist.

Paolo's latest novel for adults is The New York Times Bestseller THE WATER KNIFE, a near-future thriller about climate change and drought in the southwestern United States. A new novel set in the Ship Breaker universe, TOOL OF WAR, will be released in October.

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Reviews

Customer reviews

4.2 out of 5

5,031 global ratings

Plec

Plec

5

bleak

Reviewed in the United States on July 23, 2024

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Page turner post apocalyptic fiction. Inhaled and very much enjoyed this book. Well written with characters that are believable and filled with hope (mostly) despite a failed world

C. Alex Smith

C. Alex Smith

5

Bacigalupi channels Dashiel Hammett and Roman Polanski

Reviewed in the United States on December 19, 2015

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Global warming and over use of water have left the American Southwest a no man’s land of cities abandoned to desert wildlife. National Guard units prevent refugees from Texas and Arizona from crossing into states where water is still plentiful. Trapped in the dieing landscape, people huddle close to tanks where they can buy a day’s worth of water, before returning to their gutted suburban McMansions. Meanwhile, private corporations, states, and even drug lords wage war over the remains of the Colorado river.

In Phoenix, a murder has been committed. Actually, in Phoenix, they gamble on how many bodies will be found in a 24 hour period. But this murder is different. A fiver, a person living the increasingly rare lifestyle of the rich, has been tortured, murdered and discarded in the sand in front of the Hilton 6, as though he was just another throw away refugee. The scandal becomes a vortex sucking in an orphaned Texan, an independent reporter and a corporate owned spy/hitman.

The Water Knife’s cynical characters and dessicated setting channel the noir feel of a futuristic "Chinatown." Unlike his last few YA offerings, this novel is quite definitely an adult read with graphic violence and explicit sexuality. The book has adult language, in English and in Spanish, and possibly in Mandarin (I can’t be sure.) That gritty texture, however, contributes to a lightening fast thrill ride that kept me up late several nights in a row.

I also purchased the audible version of this book. The narration was beautifully read and the realistic Latin accents added a definite Southwestern flavor to the dialogue. Great voice and skillfully read.

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3 people found this helpful

Xper Dunn

Xper Dunn

5

The California Drought Is Just A Warm-Up

Reviewed in the United States on June 10, 2015

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"The Water Knife" by the reliable Paolo Bacigalupi is a story of a near-future America suffering through the destruction of the American Southwest due to water shortages. The draining of the aquifers, combined with the lack of snow-melt from the Rockies, leaves California, Nevada, Arizona, and displaced Texans all struggling in a world where rivers are covered to prevent excess evaporation. Water rights become life or death matters for cities Las Vegas, LA, and Phoenix, AZ—where most of the action takes place.

The ‘water knife’ is a euphemism for an enforcer of water rights and a hunter of anyone trying to access water without legal authority. Angel is one of the best, in the employ of the sharp female administrator of Las Vegas’s Water Authority, Catherine Case. He becomes involved with a hunt for a water-rights treaty granted to Native Americans—a priceless document so old that it would take precedence over all existing agreements—and in the process, becomes involved with a female reporter who’s gone from being an observer to being in the thick of the life and death struggle of everyone in Phoenix as the water runs out and the dangers only grow more unbeatable.

However, the most frightening thing about this novel is its basis in fact—much of the disastrous environment described has been warned of in a non-fiction book, "Cadillac Desert: The American West and Its Disappearing Water" by Marc Reisner. That book was published in 1987, and much of what he warned about is starting to manifest itself—such as the present severe drought conditions in California.

Like most doomsday-scenario stories, “The Water Knife” describes people on the edge, people in trouble, and twisted people who take advantage of chaos to create their own little fiefdoms of violence and tyranny. I never read such stories purely for the goth-like rush of people being cruel and dark—but in cases where I feel the story will give insight into something real, I put up with it—especially from a writer as good as Bacigalupi. And this is an exciting, engrossing tale of intrigue, passion, and ‘history as a hammer’, for all its darkness.

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17 people found this helpful

Treesong

Treesong

5

A modern classic in dystopian apocalyptic fiction

Reviewed in the United States on November 16, 2015

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After reading The Windup Girl and Pump Six and Other Stories, I was really looking forward to reading the next Paolo Bacigalupi book on my list. I am pleased to report that The Water Knife definitely lived up to my expectations.

The Water Knife is set in an all-too-believable dystopian future where global warming and overconsumption of water have lead to widespread water shortages in the American Southwest. “Widespread water shortages” is an understatement. The entire region is practically in a state of civil war. California, Nevada, and Arizona are fighting in the courts and sometimes in the streets to secure access to what little water remains. Politicians, businesspeople, organized crime networks, refugees, and other everyday citizens are all struggling in their own interrelated ways to survive and get ahead in the often violent and cruel circumstances of what’s left of human civilization.

This novel works on many levels — and works on all of those levels quite successfully.

The basic elements that I would expect of almost any good narrative are all strong here. The plot, characters, and setting are all complex and compelling. I often do my reading in fairly short bursts, and I found myself wanting to extend my reading time for as long as possible. Some narratives — even some really good narratives — rely heavily on one or two of these elements to carry the story. But the plot, characters, and setting all work together brilliantly, like complex parts of a well-oiled machine driving the narrative forward to its conclusion.

Bacigalupi is especially good at getting inside of each viewpoint character’s head, bringing the reader into their inner world, and using their perspective to reveal some very vivid and intense imagery. Anyone can tell the reader what the character is experiencing, but few authors can describe it so well that the reader feels like they’re right there along with the character, experiencing all of the joys and horrors (let’s be honest — mostly horrors in this case) that the character experiences. When I read the Water Knife, I feel like I’ve been transported into a very real apocalyptic future — a feeling that is terrifying on some level, but eminently rewarding as a reader.

The precise apocalyptic nature of the Water Knife is actually somewhat uncommon. This is what I’ve come to think of as a “mid-apocalyptic” or simply “apocalyptic” narrative rather than a “post-apocalyptic” one. In post-apocalyptic narratives, human society has collapsed entirely, leaving behind small to mid-sized bands of desperate individuals struggling to survive in the aftermath. Post-apocalyptic narratives are popular nowadays, and most stories I’ve come across lately are either post-apocalyptic or non-apocalyptic.

Water Knife is something in between. It offers a glimpse of an American society that is well on its way to complete collapse, but still not fully gone. To an extent, there is still a society similar to what exists today — a civil government with various government agencies, a market economy dominated various large corporations, information and communication technologies, etc. People in power are still trying to maintain the appearance that society has not, in fact, collapsed. But in a very real sense, it’s all either broken or falling apart. For large groups of people, it has already failed, leaving them in fringe situations that we would normally associate with a post-apocalyptic setting. This middle ground between today’s society and a future post-apocalyptic society is a very rich space for exploring the problems of today and the direction in which they may be taking us.

What I find most rewarding about this novel is the importance of its central themes of water scarcity and global warming. Bacigalupi doesn’t seem to be pushing any single solution or course of action here in the present day. However, presenting the potential horrors of where we’re headed in graphic detail is enough to inspire anyone with half a brain and half a heart to give some serious thought to what we can do in the here and now to avoid water wars and climate catastrophe. Bacigalupi takes some very important concerns facing the world today and turns them into a compelling narrative that will entertain (and perhaps even inspire) many people who otherwise might not give much thought to these concerns. Good fiction doesn’t always need a deep message about today’s society — but it doesn’t hurt, and those are some of my favorite narratives. Bacigalupi’s approach to the task of writing such narratives is among the best I’ve seen. I definitely recommend the Water Knife to other readers and look forward to reading more of his work!

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18 people found this helpful

Paige Ellen

Paige Ellen

4

Futuristic noir thriller from Bacigalupi

Reviewed in the United States on January 19, 2016

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Usually, I find Paolo Bacigalupi's adult genre novels to be five-star events. For this reviewer, that was not the case. In some ways, this is a brilliant vision of a dystopian future for the world, focused in the southwest areas of the United States. As several reviewers say on the book's page on Amazon, the book does bring to mind the movie "Chinatown." That's a pretty hefty comparison. And, for the most part, the comparison is apt as the book lives up to the expectations brought to mind by that comparison. This is, without question, a genre bending event. It is dystopian, noir, speculative (science) fiction. The noir aspect is most prominent including the almost thoughtless violence. I felt that there was just a bit too much of that graphic violence, and that is why I docked the book one star. Make no mistake, this is a superb, well thought out speculation as to a very possible dystopian society evolving from the one that can be found now in the U.S. The reader is asked to accept a world in which water is more valuable than gold, and that means that whomever holds the water rights to any body of water, be it river, lake, pond, etc., is in possession of great wealth. Just as in the past of this part of the country, it was land that was fought over for grazing rights, farming rights and so forth, so it is with water rights in PB's dark vision of the not-too-distant future. His main characters are all well developed, with only the character of the "baddie in chief", Catherine Vegas, coming close to being stereotyped. The title, "The Water Knife", refers to the character Angel Velasquez, who is an enforcer for Catherine Vegas, "the Queen of Colorado," in this case referring more to river than the state. Water knives are brutal, almost sociopathic former military or cartel type thugs who are responsible for securing and protecting water rights held by their employers. Angel is thought to be the toughest of them all. The plot centers around the battle between Las Vegas and Phoenix for survival and involves a rumor that documentation exists that is so old that if found and valid, would save Phoenix and put a huge dent in Ms Vegas' empire. Bacigalupi's skill at putting the reader right in the middle of extremely desolate scenery inhabited by equally extremely desperate civilians living in those places, is unmatched. His descriptions of the despair and violence are terrifying, made more so by their credibility. A side plot involves the hatred of Texans who have migrated further west out of desperation. They are so hated because they put an even greater strain on the supplies of what water is available. As always is the case with PB's writing, it is his well-developed, disparate and believable characters and their various relationships that really carry this book and make it such a great read. He shows how certain relationships can transform despair into hope, and survival at a distance type relationships into relationships featuring various forms of love, be it agapé or romantic or merely utilitarian. It is the transformative effect that makes possible the surprising and unexpectedly gratifying ending to the novel. If you can stand the graphic violence, this is a great read. Potential readers with weaker stomachs may want to take a pass. Overall, very highly recommended.

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