Many people fantasize about an estranged relative dying and leaving them a fortune or a thriving business. Few people would indulge in this fantasy if the estranged relative’s business were villainy, and if, in addition to the job, they inherited a long list of enemies. This is the situation Charlie Fitzer finds himself in when his Uncle Jake dies and he’s visited by his uncle’s second-in-command, Mathilda Morrison.
Even before Morrison shows up, Charlie has problems. Once a successful journalist, he’s now an underemployed substitute teacher, divorced, and living in his dead father’s house, which his older siblings are pressuring him to sell so they can split the profits. The only things he really has going for him are a couple of personable cats named Hera and Persephone (he went the goddess route on the names). Morrison asks Charlie for a favor–play host at his uncle’s funeral; in return, his uncle’s estate can arrange for Charlie to own his dad’s house outright. Although the trade sounds a trifle cynical to Charlie, it seems simple enough, and he agrees.
Things start going further south from there: At the funeral, multiple guests attempt to confirm Uncle Jake’s death, including one whose chosen method of verification is to stick a knife in the corpse. Things escalate when Charlie’s house blows up; he discovers his cats are genetically modified, super-smart felines sent to spy on him; and Morrison reveals his uncle’s business wasn’t just parking garages. She explains, ” ‘Your uncle is in parking garages because they fund his more important work. . . . Which is to seek out, fund and create the sort of technologies and services that bring disruptive change to existing industrial and social paradigms, and offer them, on a confidential basis, to interested businesses and governments’. . . . ‘HE WAS A VILLAIN,’ Hera typed.”
Yep, Hera can type. She has lots of thoughts about things. It’s adorable.
Charlie is whisked away to his uncle’s island stronghold, where he tries to learn the ins and outs of the business. On one level it’s a fish-out-of-water story, but it’s also a spoof of corporate culture and a lesson in modern economics. Morrison explains to Charlie how, although he is technically now a trillionaire on paper, he has very little in the way of liquid assets, which is what counts. “If any of those billionaires tried to cash out, they’d crash their stocks. . . .What anyone’s actual worth is, is what they have or could make liquid now. Most of those ‘billionaires’ would be lucky to realize five percent of their presumed worth.” Pour one out for the sad bastards fighting for liquidity today.
On top of dodging enemies and coming to terms with his new profession, Charlie has to deal with labor disputes. The dolphins who help patrol the island are threatening to go on strike again. (Apparently it’s a common threat upon which the dolphins never follow through, because they lack leverage. They’ve seen Blackfish, though, and they know humans are assholes.) Where the cats in this novel are charming, intelligent, and proper, the dolphins are freaking hilarious. From calling Charlie a “suppurating bourgeois fistula of oppression,” to shit-talking his Big Ten education, they are the laugh-out-loud triggers in a very funny novel.
I loved this book. In addition to the genetically-modified fauna, Charlie is an appealing protagonist. He’s out of his depth, but he’s not hopeless–he was an esteemed business journalist, after all, so he knows a few things about dealing with corporate malefactors. His affection for his cats–even after learning about their super intelligence and that they have been effectively spying on him–was enough for me to want to root for him, and he remains a decent fellow throughout the entire “Super villain” misadventure.
I have to admit I sometimes hesitate to give five stars to such a “light” book (it’s snobbery, I know), but I felt so genuinely happy when I finished Starter Villain that I didn’t hesitate. This novel made me feel good about the world, and that’s no small accomplishment.
