A Review of Jeff VanderMeer’s “Hummingbird Salamander”
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
When I wrote my review of Jeff VanderMeer’s recent omnibus collection Ambergris, I called him a genius. (See the end of this review for a link to my take on that book.) I also considered his novel Dead Astronauts to be not prose, nor poetry, but music. (Also see a link to the review of Dead Astronauts at the end of this piece.) With his new novel, Hummingbird Salamander, VanderMeer reaches a new level of genius, although the book is far from being as wildly experimental as Dead Astronauts to a point. Combining everything from computer security to male-dominated workplaces to biotech and bioterrorism to illegal wildlife trafficking and poaching, this thriller is a lot of things wrapped up into one. It is taut, compelling, and effortlessly readable. This is the kind of book you should know nothing about before reading it because it is full of switchback twists and turns that you won’t see coming. It’s an A+ read and completely startling.
If you absolutely must need a synopsis before you crack open the cover, the book’s about a woman named Jill (sometimes Jane) Smith (not her real name, which is never revealed) who works as a data analyst at a security firm somewhere in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. One day, a coffee shop barista hands her an envelope with an address for a storage unit and a key. Inside the unit is a box with a taxidermied hummingbird belonging to an extinct species. Pretty soon, Smith is on the trail of a mysterious woman named Silvina to whom the bird belonged, but as she goes about her investigation, her life begins to slowly unravel and pretty soon it becomes clear that someone or some people might want her and her family dead for knowing too much.
Hummingbird Salamander is an intriguing book in that the authorial voice rests with Silvina and not Jill. You get the sense that VanderMeer’s philosophies more coincide with hers because she’s something of an environmentalist (and so is he), even if she may or may not be something of a bioterrorist. That makes for an unnerving, unsettling read because the main protagonist is discovering, through her detective work (and at one point in the novel, she even becomes something of a true-life detective), a philosophy in terms of caring for the Earth and treating it with something akin to “respect.” However, the Jill Smith character is also interesting in that she is a masculinized female. Her past includes taking part in amateur wrestling matches and working as a bodybuilder. She is a true rugged individualist, and that makes her even more fascinating and wonderful as a character. There is nobody quite like these two characters in all modern literature. And that’s part of the pleasure of this puzzle.
And “a puzzle” is exactly what this novel is. You won’t know where the plot may take you next, and Hummingbird Salamander easily feels like three or four novels that fit inside one volume of text. It’s a thriller but it’s also an espionage book, a mediation on the state of the environment, and a paranoid screed to boot. It’s a whole lot of things, and that, too, keeps the book captivating and enthralling. True, if you think about the plot a little too much, it might not completely line up and some of the plot elements feel to be a bit of a stretch under scrutiny. (After all, the book kind of falls apart if you think that Jill Smith has no real reason to go hunting down who the hummingbird belonged to.) I was willing to completely ignore this though because the book is just that well wound. There’s a real sense of propulsion with this work, and the book keeps moving through its paces. It is a hard read to put down, and you may find yourself flipping the pages well past your bedtime.
All in all, you must go, find and read this novel (when it is released). Hummingbird Salamander is so good, I’d be willing to bet that the book will be on multiple best-of lists at the end of the year. It is perfect reading for the pandemic era (and was written at the outset of the pandemic, which weasels its way in as a setting towards the end of the read). Hands down and bar none, Hummingbird Salamander is a gripping, fingernail-biting, completely astonishing rollercoaster ride. Even if it may have a few seeming loose ends or be completely hard to fathom character motivations, the book is so professionally written and so twisty and turn-y that you probably won’t care.
Hummingbird Salamander is a bright spot in the canon of Jeff VanderMeer books (and I’ll handily admit that I have some catching up to do as I haven’t read all of his novels) and proves that he is a master when it comes to the environmental/biotech genre of fiction. Not quite speculative fiction but not quite a straight balls-to-the-wall technothriller, Hummingbird Salamander is that rarity: a book that is, in many ways, uncategorizable. You won’t believe that you’re reading something this good and well thought out, and the book will constantly surprise you — never leaving you too much time to be baffled by it. I did think the very end was a little, well, far-fetched, when Silvina’s ambitions are finally revealed. Still, for all I want to poke holes in the plot and the book in general, I had such a good time reading this one that I honestly don’t care too much. This is an absolute must-read for those who want their books to mine a certain melancholy when it comes to real-world concerns, and Hummingbird Salamander more than hits the spot. This is a thrilling read from cover to cover, and I cannot be more effusive in my praise than that! Go. Read. Now.
Jeff VanderMeer’s Hummingbird Salamander will be published by MCD on April 6, 2021.
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You may also be interested in the following reviews: Jeff VanderMeer’s Borne, Jeff VanderMeer’s Dead Astronauts, and Jeff VanderMeer’s Ambergris.
Get in touch: zacharyhoule@rogers.com
