Review: The Jazz
Summary
The Jazz is exactly the kind of cyberpunk I look for: a relevant story untellable without believably futuristic computer technology carried by strong, interesting characters.
I recommend this book without hesitation, especially if you're looking for queer characters in your sci-fi.
Detailed Review
Despite being written 17 years prior, The Jazz manages to present a world of media identical to the one we know now in 2017, where the concept of "truth" is irrelevant. People believe what they want to believe and require the flimsiest of fabricated evidence to construct entire world views.
For Americans in 2016, this resulted in the election of a scheming and incompetent con-man as president; in The Jazz, we get the cathartic experience of seeing news-bending used for justice once we accept the nihilism inherent in the death of objective reporting.
The titular "Jazz" is more easily conceptualized as "bullshit." It doesn't just mean fake news, but refers to any kind of social engineering or fallacious self endorsement. It's refreshing to see so much social engineering in a cyberpunk story; any of the 90s hackers would tell you that a significant proportion of their exploits are based on pretending like they belong places they shouldn't.
The Jazz ages well thanks to this focus. Its computer-centric conflicts do not consist of avatars soaring through cyberspace fighting ICE but instead consist of people using mildly futuristic web browsing interfaces to spread lies with sock puppet accounts. Seeing as how the age of social media was still in its infancy in 2000, The Jazz is extra and eerily prescient. Scott predicts with ease the way that the "real world" fuzzily intersects cyberspace by way of hype trains and conspiracy theories.
Scott also features a wonderful depiction of what can best be described as wired smart phones. Called "smokes," these little all-in-one devices are carried by every character. Characters are constantly "going for a smoke" and checking the internet by plugging into public data jacks at bars and restaurants. Smokes are tied intimately to one's identity, and as such people in the book have a small pile of them tied to different false names. The lack of wireless technology is amusing, but otherwise Scott captures the addiction and spyware aspects of smart phone culture exactly.
In addition to all of these concepts, The Jazz follows in the footsteps of Scott's Trouble and her Friends by having unique and interesting characters. Tin Lizzy is a more complex and compelling character than your average aggro console cowboy and piecing together her history over the course of the book is one of the more satisfying parts of the story. Another character of note is Murfree, a black suburban nerd who realized he could get ahead by first acting like a gangbanging drug dealer for his white neighbors and later masquerading as a retired sports pro turned restaurateur. His part in the book is small but impactful. I was less engaged by the other main characters (especially Keyz, who is a little shit) but that left more room for Tin Lizzy's development.
While the book is less explicitly focused on queer narrative than Trouble and her Friends, it does address issues of class and corporatism. However, like Trouble, such commentary doesn't take the place of compelling storytelling, and Scott easily weaves it into the fiction and setting.
Go load up The Jazz on your smoke and check it out.