I read Daniel Key Moran's Emerald Eyes out of order--a fact that caused it to suffer considerably in comparison to its sequels, the superb The Long Run and the wildly ambitious The Last Dancer. Those two books were phenomenal entertainments, big on ideas and story, with a deeply thought out setting. Emerald Eyes is, in some sense, more of the same. It explains important scenes that the later books take for granted--for instance, the climax of Emerald Eyes is the remarkable introduction to The Last Dancer--but, more importantly, it also gives some crucial background that helps explain the emotional motivations of the characters in Moran's later books. Reading Emerald Eyes last thus nicely filled out some of the gaps of Moran's later books.

Unfortunately, reading Emerald Eyes last also revealed its flaws as an earlier novel. Moran's writing is not as smooth as it would become by The Long Run; nor is his plotting as fast-paced and seamless. Furthermore, although Emerald Eyes is a short book, Moran unwisely chose to present too much of his universe in the space of too few pages. Thus, the book begins with a character known as the Named Storyteller, a cosmic being detached from time who pops in and out of the narrative but has absolutely nothing to do with the story or with any of the characters. When Moran did the same thing later in The Last Dancer, it was just as far out but much less confusing, not only because Moran had a lot more pages to deal with, but also because Moran integrated his larger universe more thoroughly into the narrative. In Emerald Eyes, by contrast, his cosmology is just a distraction rather than another interesting bit.

The good news is that Moran falls into stride about halfway through the book, after a somewhat aimless beginning. From that point forward, the book is all good, as Moran spins out his tale of revenge, hate, devotion, and passion. For those familiar with Moran's universe, Emerald Eyes tells the tragic tale of Carlos Castanaveras and his "family." Carlos, like the rest of his brood, was created by the genetic experiments of the United Nations, which now rules the world by force of arms. The UN's genetic experiments made Carlos and his children telepaths, but the UN's governing members made Carlos and his children less than human, legally speaking. The first half of the book deals, in a somewhat offhand fashion, with the telepaths' struggle to be declared fully human.

The story really gets interesting after the telepaths are emancipated and move into the Chandler Complex (a name that fans of the series will instantly recognize). Carlos is a tragic figure, doomed by his overwhelming arrogance and violent temper. His enemies easily exploit Carlos's flaws by pushing the newly independent telepaths: lawsuits against them, terrorist attacks, fake demonstrations outside their home. Moran builds the pressure to an almost intolerable intensity; Carlos's occasional flares of outrage are perfectly understandable against the forces pitted against him. The inevitable confrontation, when it happens, is almost a relief, a loosening of the tension that Moran has skillfully ratcheted up.

It is a mark of Moran's narrative skill that even those who know how Emerald Eyes ends will be enthralled by the story. As usual, Moran presents nothing too deep with this novel. But the operatic intensity, epic feel, and rollicking plot of Emerald Eyes makes it a first-class diversion.

Copyright © 2003 Steven Wu