Jasper Fforde: (Not 50!) Shades Of Grey

This was originally posted on my old site, sometime in early 2011 or late 2010. I've added a single paragraph at the top, to address a subject I should have mentioned at the time, but didn't.

Before posting the article as originally written, I'd like to point out that the main biological/evolutionary premises in the novel are probably, well, dubious, at best. Not that I'm any kind of biologist, but they seem pretty much of a stretch to me. That said, the book reads more like fantasy than science fiction anyway, and it's internally consistent, so—unless you're a stickler for hard SF—I don't think it detracts much. As with most SF and all fantasy, we rely on suspension of disbelief. (A thought comes to mind; I can't think of a single SF or fantasy novel which deals properly with evolution. Hard SF is strict about physics and chemistry, but the biological sciences seem to still be treated to the good old 'half a paragraph of sciencey-sounding babble followed by some distracting action,' before the reader has chance to look too hard. I wonder why that is. Does anyone know of a writer—or even a single novel—that bucks this trend?)

And here's the rest of the article, as originally posted.

I've just finished a rather remarkable book, Shades Of Grey by Jasper Fforde. Anyone who's read his Thursday Next series and the spin-off Nursery Crimes novels, will know already that Fforde has a penchant for off-the-wall ideas, but Shades Of Grey, while just as … odd, is a darker affair altogether. It's tighter, too, with none of the playfulness with plot-holes, inexplicable coincidences and "suddenly a shot rang out" type contrivances. If you had any lingering worries that Mr Fforde used such things because he couldn't structure a story without them (an allegation I've seen made by one online critic), this will dispel them instantly.

Normally I dislike plot-spoiler reviews, and try to be as vague as possible about the actual content of a book, while still (hopefully) giving an idea of the 'feel' of the story, but, when talking about one as left-field as this is, I think I'm going to have to be a bit more detailed, simply because, apart from generalisms about dystopias (dystopiæ?), à la 1984 or Brave New World, there aren't any tropes I can point to and say 'it's a bit like this.' I'll try to limit myself to the setting rather than the plot but, like most exercises in world-building, the background is very much a part of the plot, so please feel free to skip the rest of the article, with my hearty recommendation to read this book. With that in mind, for those who want a little more, let's be about it!

The novel, the first of what looks to be a trilogy (though, as any Douglas Adams fan knows, that doesn't necessarily mean a three-book series) is set several hundred years after a disaster known as The Something That Happened. What this something was has evidently been forgotten, but has left the human race (or at least the part of it living in Britain) with varying deficiencies in their ability to perceive colour. Society has regressed to a technology level about equal to that of the mid-twentieth century, and has become rigidly dystopian, stratified around each individual's colour perception, formalised via a coming-of-age ceremony based on the Ishihara test, and with families taking their names from the colours they see best. Social strata, with Greys at the bottom and Violets at the top, are organised around the Munsell colour system. For instance, complimentary colours are forbidden to marry. Added to that is a system of genetic inheritence which makes sure that no particular family will stay at the same level from one generation to the next. There's a kind of constant generational convection current, taking some up and some down, and leading to politically arranged marriages whereby each family strives to keep its colour as high up the system as possible.

To this simple, yet bizarre, base, Fforde adds such things as artificial colour which can be seen by all, but is a seemingly finite resource, mined from the artefacts of the preceding civilisation. Artificial colour is employed for medicinal purposes, but can be used, especially in the case of the various shades of green, for recreation. The latter is known as 'chasing the green,' and appears to be treated as a fine thing in moderation, although lincoln is best avoided.

Further technological regressions occur in the form of official 'leapbacks,' which rather arbitrarily, it seems, ban various technologies, but are sometimes worked around by 'loopholing,' which does what the name would imply, such as the ban on railways being avoided by the defining of monorails as railway, singular, as opposed to railways, plural. And, as with any good dystopia, there are endless rules. The rulebook in this case seems very reminiscent of that of a straight-laced private school, with running and shouting, for instance, being ruled against, compulsory attendance at various sports, recreations and communal meals, a restriction of the availability of spoons, and all of the rules being upheld and adjudicated by prefects. What sets it apart from most dystopias, though, is that most of the policing is done by the community itself, rather than by some orwellian overseeing body – a much more insidious proposition, if we stop to think about it, as a good look at any theocracy, modern or historical, will show. They practically run on curtain-twitching and prodnosing.

The plot itself is, so far at least, a fairly standard coming-of-age story, with hints of growing rebellion on the part of the protagonist, Eddie Russet. Indeed it's Eddie's increasing questioning of the society around him that introduces us to much of the history and social structure of his world.

All of which makes this novel sound much dryer than it is in the reading. Yes, it's dark and dystopian, but not in a gloomy, angsty kind of way. Humour abounds, though more in the word-play between the characters than the more slapstick situational comedy of Fforde's earlier work. I love the Thursday Next series for its literary-based witticisms and playfulness, but I've a feeling that this trilogy will stand more re-readings, and turn out to have more levels of message and meaning. The only problem is that the next volume, Shades of Grey 2: Painting by Numbers, seems to have a likely publication date of sometime in 2014 (Now updated, it seems, to 2013). Anyone got a time machine I can borrow?
—Daz

Oops! Tagged as science, instead of science fiction. Ho-hum.