The first thing to know about Blake Crouch’s Dark Matter is that it is not, by any means, a sensible book. It stars one Jason Dessen, an atomic physicist who has left behind his dreams of creating “the quantum superposition of an object that was visible to the human eye” (more on that later, don’t panic) to settle into life as a professor at a small college, and into domesticity: beautiful artist wife Daniela, teenage son Charlie.
Sent out to buy ice cream one evening, Jason is abducted and drugged, and wakes up to find himself in a version of Chicago that isn’t his own: he’s not married, he has no child, and he now appears to be an award-winning physicist who’s found a way to tap into an infinite number of universes. But who is living his perfect family life while he’s gone? Jason and a pencil-skirted sidekick journey through various nightmarish versions of Chicago as he tries to find his way home, from post-nuclear wasteland to arctic desert, “literally adrift in the nothing space between universes”, looking for “a grain of sand on an infinite beach”.
Dark Matter is proud and joyful in its absurdity, and having a lot of fun with it too
Related: Wayward Pines review – so much more than Twin Peaks-lite
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