Marcelina Hoffman is a reality TV producer who likes martial arts and will contemplate most things in the interest of good telly. Desperate for her next break she’s searching Brazil for the footballer that shamed the nation in the world cup half a century before. In the mid-21st century a street-wise Edson finds himself embroiled in the illegal trade in quantum technology. In the 18th century Quinn, a Jesuit priest, searches for another of his order who has gone rogue deep in the jungle where he is harbouring a dark secret. Such are the threads of story on which McDonald embarks in what is an entertaining but flawed novel.

Starting from David Deutsch’s classic meditation, The Fabric of Reality, McDonald attempts to weave together three disparate stories using the framework of quantum physics. What appears at first to be three different stories across three different times is not quite so straightforward and it’s an interesting narrative structure even if you’ve read the source material that spawned the idea. It’s not an entirely successful gambit.

The principal problem with split narrative is that there must be enough cohesion between the segments for the whole to hang together and in Brasyl I don’t feel this was the case. Largely because there wasn’t enough between the three threads for them to feel properly part of the whole and this fragmentation was particularly problematic in the beginning sections of the novel. Indeed, it was tough going for a while until more of the ideas began to seep into the story.

The most interesting and well-drawn character, for me, was that of Edson but I felt he was under-utilised. I didn’t find Marcelina that interesting or believable as she felt like a caricature, as did Quinn who seemed to be a cross between Charlie Sheen in Apocalypse Now and Zorro. This was disappointing because there’s so much scope within the conceits of Brasyl for character driven story and, indeed, the nature of identity which seemed to be woefully under utilised as a theme.

On the positive side you can’t fault McDonald on his ideas. They pound through the story like a chrome artificial heart pumping life into the novel and gathering pace as you head into the book’s conclusion. Detailed research on Brazil puts flesh on the poorly welded skeleton of the narrative, hiding its flaws beneath its dark beauty. The novel’s final punches are smart and scary in a way that leaves more mainstream versions of this idea exposed for the fluff they are (I am trying to avoid spoiling the ending for people hence not naming comparisons). Yes: there are things to admire in this book.

Three conclusions:

- I think it’s worth a read.
- I don’t think it’s exceptional – although it has its moments.
- I don’t think we’ve seen the best of McDonald yet.

3/5

NB - You can read a more admiring and in depth exploration of Brasyl over at Jetse de Vries’s blog here. It does contain spoilers.