Subject: Review: THE M.D., by Thomas M. Disch

From: [email-masked] (Dan'l DanehyOakes)
Date: 2 Apr 92 04:15:58 GMT

THE M.D.:  a horror story
by Thomas M. Disch

Review copyright 1992 Dan'l Danehy-Oakes

	Since his first novel, THE GENOCIDES, Thomas M. Disch has 
made it his habit to run counter to genre standards.  That book
was a classic SF aliens-conquer-the-world-and-decimate-mankind
story, with one variation:  the aliens win, finally, and mankind
really is destroyed.  Depressing?  No, said Disch, it was funny
as hell -- particularly the sausage machine scene.  After all, he
pointed out, the real thrill in these books was watching the world
destroyed.  Why not finish the job?
	Well, anyway, he continued, putting out an elegant (if
depressing) novel every few years, earning award nominations for
his brilliant CAMP CONCENTRATION -- the story of a prisoner of
conscience and an intelligence-raising plague.  His next novel,
334, the ultimate extrapolation of the welfare state and the dirty
little war, brought him recognition outside the SF field.  (He had 
already been garnering a reputation as a poet under the variant name 
"Tom Disch.")
	His last hooraw of proper SF seems to have been ON WINGS 
OF SONG, set in very much the same future world as 334, the story of
a "fairy" in a world that considers bodiless flight perverse.  If
the term "fairy" made the obvious analogy a bit heavy-handed, there
was much else that was subtle and delightful in WINGS, and many considered
it a major miscarriage of justice that this novel didn't sweep the
awards.
	In the meanwhile, Disch had begun parallel careers writing
children's stories (THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER), opera libretti (THE
FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER), poetry (THE RIGHT WAY TO FIGURE PLUMBING),
interactive software (AMNESIA). . .
	So his novels have become fewer and farther between, and he
hasn't written an SF novel since the late '70s.  Some would even say
that he never had; with the demi-exceptions of CAMP CONCENTRATION and 
ECHO ROUND HIS BONES, Disch has _never_ written a novel where speculation
was central to the story.  Rather, they have centered on characters,
social comment, and intense irony.
	His last novel was THE BUSINESSMAN: A Tale Of Terror, which
sank without a trace into wherever books go when nobody buys the 
paperback rights.  It was by turns chilling, witty, sardonic, and
whimsical.
	Which can also be said of his new novel, THE M.D., except
that this time Disch has the mix down pat.  It can be all four at
once, and if you don't believe that read this passage.  Billy Michael's
kindergarten teacher, Sister Symphorosa, has just told Billy that
there is no Santa Claus; Billy inisists that he has _seen_ him.
When he persists, she sends him to the principal's office.

	   "You tell Sister Fidelis what you told me, and
	if she agrees that you saw Santa Claus come down the
	chimney, then she will give you a note to me saying
	that you are not a liar.  But if she does not, then
	you will have to apologize to me and to the entire
	class for wasting our time with such ridiculous
	nonsense.  And you will not be allowed back into my
	class without either that note or an apology.  Because
	I cannot tolerate liars."
	   When he was out of the room, Sister Symphorosa,
	as a kind of reward to the rest of the class, told
	them the true story of St. Nicholas, bishop of Myra,
	how he'd miraculously brought back to life three
	rich youths whom a wicked innkeeper had murdered,
	dismembered, and hidden in a salting tub.
	   "And that," Sister Symphorosa said, rounding off
	the wonderful tale with a lesson, "is why St.
	Nicholas is the patron saint of children, and why
	we still pray to him to be protected from robbers
	and thieves.  But he is _not_ Santa Claus.  I hope
	that is clear.  Now, are there any questions?"
	   The Burdon girl raised her hand.
	   "Yes, Sally?"
	   "Sister, what is a salting tub?"
	   "A salting tub, Sally, is what butchers used to 
	use in the olden days to keep meat from turning bad.	
	When meat isn't properly preserved, it rots and gets
	worms in it.;  But if you put meat into a tub of
	salty water, it won't go bad.  Of course, that was
	in the days before refrigerators and deep freezes.
	If St. Nicholas had lived today, he would very likely
	have found the bodies of the three rich youths in a
	deep freeze.  Are there any other questions?"
	   There were no more questions, so Sister Symphorosa
	used the rest of the afternoon to teach the children
	to sing Christmas carols.  They sang "O Come All Ye
	Faithful" and then "Adeste Fideles," "Silent Night,"
	and "We Three Kings of Orient Are."  Then she let
	them make requests.  One of them asked for "Jingle
	Bells," but no one suggested a song about Santa
	Claus.
	   She dismissed the class with a sense that she had
	done a good day's work.
	   Then she remembered the Michaels boy.  He had not
	yet returned from the principal's office.  It would
	not do to go running after him.  That would only make
	him feel more self-important.  She took her rosary
	from the drawer of her desk, kissed the silver 
	crucifix, and made the sign of the cross: "In the
	name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
	Ghost.  Amen."
	   Then she pondered the first Joyful Mystery, which
	is the Annunciation.

Young Billy is the novel's hero.  He has indeed seen the supernatural
being he calls "Santa Claus," and who soon after reveals himself to be
Mercury, the Roman god of (among other things) medicine.  Mercury gives
him a caduceus with which he can heal or harm, simply by saying a rhyme
and touching the caduceus to the victim.
	In a sense, THE M.D. is an extended version of "The Monkey's
Paw," the classic story whose moral is "Be careful what you wish for,
you might get it."  The power of the caduceus in a child's hands is a
horrifying thing indeed, and he accidentally causes great harm to many
of his family members before he learns how to control it properly.
	Even under control, the caduceus is a terrible thing; it can
only cure in proportion as it harms.  It seems to gain energy from its
cursing, which must be spent to cure.
	Billy's first act is to take revenge upon neighborhood bullies.
He charges the "stick" with a curse which will cause a terrible form of
neural disorder.  (He doesn't think of it that way; he merely tells the
stick that its victim will "be like Bubby," a local victim.)  But Billy's
stepbrother finds the stick and touches it before Billy can stop him. . .

	The story proceeds with the fine inevitability of the greatest
horror novels.  And, like many of the greats in horror, it works on 
the emotions and not on the appetite.  There is very little in THE M.D. 
to nauseate, but much to shock, the sensitive reader.  Even the "kite
scene" Stephen King lauds in his lengthy note to the public is brief,
and the (limited) blood is not dwelt on.  It depends on the reader's 
identification with the characters, which is assured from the beginning,
for its emotional impact.
	The prose is elegant, never twisted, never calling attention to
itself, but always carrying rich implications and overtones.  Disch has
been in complete control of the language from the beginning of his
career, and never more so than in this novel.  With sparing daubs of color 
and precisely the right details, he places the characters firmly in his
imagined Minnesota.
	If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm recommending THE M.D. as
one of the best novels of 1991, possibly _the_ best, a novel as powerful
as CARRIE or THE PRINCE OF TIDES, encompassing America in a fantastic
vision and a confident voice.  I'm done babbling; read this book.

%A Disch, Thomas M.
%T The M.D.: a horror story
%I Berkeley Books
%C New York
%D April 1992 (copyright 1991)
%G ISBN 0-425-13261-7
%P 466 pp.
%O paperback, US$5.99