September 2002			Big-Picture Transformation End of an Era Fortunate Son	Letters Sports E Line Books Alumni Passages Classes From the Field First-Person Huskiana
		Mind Games A techno-thrille probes the underbelly of ambition. By Charles Coe Gray Matter by Gary Braver (Forge Books; New York; 2002; 400 pages; $25.95) Gary Goshgarian leads a double life. By day, he serves as a mild-mannered professor of English at Northeastern. By night, he’s a novelist specializing in popular-fiction techno-thrillers. In Gray Matter, Goshgarian (writing as “Gary Braver”) continues his exploration of a favorite question: What happens when technology is used to tinker with human biology in ways scientists believe they can control, but ultimately cannot? Elixir, Goshgarian’s earlier novel, published in 2000 under the Braver pseudonym, examined the nightmarish consequences of a fountain-of-youth potion that extended human life indefinitely. Now, with Gray Matter, the author offers another chilling vision: the repercussions of a surgical procedure developed to enhance intelligence. The novel opens with a glimpse into the picture-perfect lives of Rachel and Martin Whitman, a Massachusetts couple who seem to have it all: money, good looks, health, and a great marriage. Martin’s rapidly growing executive recruitment firm has just moved into fancy digs in Cambridge; Rachel spends her days swimming happily through a sea of designer labels. And they’ve just traded their starter home in a blue-collar town for a fancy new North Shore address. But they have one little problem. Young son Dylan is a sweet-tempered child who loves to sing, but his language skills lag behind those of his day-care classmates. Although the Whitmans have tried to convince themselves he’s developing at his own pace and will eventually catch up, the gap between Dylan and his peers steadily widens. Finally, the situation becomes impossible to ignore, as the little boy begins to fall prey to other children’s cruelty. Lucinda, a brilliant and controlling classmate, teases Dylan constantly, calling him a “dummy,” delighting in bullying others to join in the abuse. When the Whitmans have Dylan tested, they discover his IQ is below average. The realization that their son has a developmental disability they can’t “fix” severely strains their marriage. Suddenly, the unhappy couple is presented with an option that gives them hope. Sheila, Lucinda’s mother, approaches Rachel, hinting she may know of a way to increase Dylan’s intelligence. She introduces Rachel and Martin to Dr. Malenko, a Russian expatriate surgeon, who carefully feels them out before revealing he’s developed a surgical “enhancement” that could double Dylan’s IQ. However, there are a few catches: The procedure will cost $500,000 in cash, and the Whitmans must never discuss the operation with anyone. The good doctor urges them to decide quickly—the younger the child, the greater the chances for a successful outcome, he says. This is no decision to be taken lightly. To add to the tension, we learn something the Whitmans don’t know. Several other young people in the community have been enhanced—and have experienced psychological side effects. Though these human guinea pigs enjoy new benefits that run the gamut from photographic memories to genius IQs, they have paid a steep price. And then there’s Lucinda. When Sheila reveals that her child has had the surgery, Rachel must face the possibility that good-natured Dylan could become as hateful and cold-blooded as his tormentor. On the other hand, Martin wholeheartedly embraces the idea of the surgery, brushing aside his wife’s concerns. He becomes increasingly impatient with Rachel’s ambivalence, and the discord between them builds. Ultimately, Rachel’s suspicions lead her to confront Malenko and permanently alter her family’s lives. Gray Matter is a first-rate page-turner. In his fifth novel, Goshgarian exhibits his mastery with the mechanics of storytelling. Yet what especially distinguishes this book from Goshgarian’s earlier work is the emotional complexity his characters reveal. Rachel and Martin Whitman are compelling portraits—by turns, both sympathetic and unlikable. The novel’s narrative convincingly exposes the fault lines in the foundation of their seemingly ideal union. And the author skillfully suggests that the high-powered couple’s desire to augment little Dylan’s intelligence is a complicated mix of genuine love and the desire for a trophy child who complements all their other “possessions.” Although the novel is provocative and well written, let the reader beware: This roller-coaster ride is not always fun. The novel offers some truly horrific moments and covers a good deal of somber territory. In fact, the title emerges as an double-entendre acknowledgment of the book’s melancholy tone. Readers may find it difficult to imagine sane parents deciding to “enhance” their child. The Whitmans are unaware of the procedure’s possible side effects and the unsavory methods behind the technique. They don’t know that Sheila, as she helpfully introduces them to Malenko, has her own agenda. These plot twists aside, surely any well-meaning couple would realize such an operation’s terrible consequences would far outweigh its advantages. And yet, perhaps an even more sobering thought is that someday such surgery may be available without the side effects. What if parents were able to crank up their child’s intellect without damaging his core personality? Would that make a decision to proceed morally or philosophically acceptable? Such a procedure would likely be available only to the wealthy—what would that exclusivity mean? And exactly how far would people like the Whitmans go to retrofit their children? These questions aren’t raised to suggest that Goshgarian ought to have taken a different tack with Gray Matter. The book is a suspenseful and compelling read just as it is. Still, given the breakneck advances in modern biotechnology, such simple questions might someday prove the scariest of them all. Charles Coe, a program officer with the Massachusetts Cultural Council, reviewed Goshgarian’s previous novel Elixir in the May 2000 issue. Coe is a former writer and editor in Northeastern’s University Publications office. Pembroke by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman; Northeastern University Press; 2002 New England mores have long inspired American novelists. Witness this work by Mary Wilkins Freeman, who takes a searching look at the unpleasant dynamics of small-town life. Originally published in installments in Harper’s Weekly in 1894, the novel recounts a tale of several pairs of lovers who, if perhaps not star-crossed, suffer from the region’s prevailing conservatism. When a heated political discussion boils over between Cephas Barnard and his prospective son-in-law, Barney Thayer, Barnard orders Thayer from his house. The resulting clash between the two families sets off events that ultimately affect the relationships of two other couples. Freeman skillfully depicts the conflicts between individual desires and societal expectations. This new edition will offer many readers a good introduction to a notable nineteenth-century writer. The Black Sleuth by John Edward Bruce; Northeastern University Press; 2002 Like Mary Wilkins Freeman, John Bruce originally published his novel as a serial. From 1907 to 1909, McGirt’s Magazine ran this adventure of Sadipe Okukenu, a West African immigrant turned gumshoe. Okukenu works for the International Detective Agency, investigating the theft of a large diamond. The complex plot offers Bruce, a leading black political figure of the era, an engrossing frame for his criticisms of racial injustice and Eurocentrism. Fans of such writers as Walter Mosley and Barbara Neely may be particularly interested in this novel, an intriguing forerunner to contemporary detective stories.