I like seeing writers stretching and trying new things. To date, and in addition to her short fiction which I have not read, Mary Robinette Kowal has published a completed series of five Regency romances with magical elements, an ongoing series of space exploration against the background of an Earth slipping into uninhabitability, a (so far) standalone novel set during the First World War in which spiritualism works, and a slightly spooky novella that’s a medium-future meditation on memory and authenticity. The Spare Man is an interplanetary mystery, set in a 2075 in which thousands of people can take a cruise from Earth to Mars for vacation. Permanent settlements on the moon and Mars are established enough that people can travel from one to another as tourists, but they remain in the background.
All of the action takes place on the International Space Ship Lindgren, an interplanetary vessel that Kowal says in her afterword about the science “is bonkers” and that “no one would actually build. Except a cruise line.” Kowal takes as her main characters a newly married couple: Tesla Crane, traumatized inventor and rich-as-Croesus heiress, and her husband Shal (short for Shalmaneser) Steward, a recently retired detective of some renown. They’ve taken a luxury cabin for their honeymoon cruise, and they’re accompanied by Tesla’s service dog, Gimlet, who’s a Westie.
The Spare Man is an homage to the “Thin Man” movies of the 1930s and 1940s. Kowal works to present an updated version of black-and-white Hollywood glamour in space — banter and cocktails, yes; smoking and a lily-white cast of characters, no. The movies were billed as comedic mysteries, all in good fun with the occasional dead body, and so it is with The Spare Man. I haven’t seen any of the movies, so I can’t speak to how far the parallels go, or how well Kowal translates the style to another era and to interplanetary space. I could tell that she had fun writing this story, and that came across even when her leading couple were terribly inconvenienced, if not in too too much danger. There’s a cocktail recipe at the start of each chapter. Some are traditional, some were made up for the book; some are alcoholic, some are zero-proof; all appear drinkable. And on the Lindgren, practically every hour is cocktail hour, at least for the rich and investigative.









