Soho Press, 306 pages, hardcover, $24.95

Sometimes science fiction literature is disguised as something else. In the case of Sean Ferrell’s Man in the Empty Suit, elements such as time traveling and a syringe full of memories are filtered through the lens of a murder mystery, and the resulting narrative is stuffed into a costume of that chameleonic, perennially variable beast known as literary fiction.

The narrator of Man in the Empty Suit is a time traveler who every year makes his way to an abandoned hotel in New York City in 2071, the 100th anniversary of his birth. The reason for the visit is a party where he drinks and talks with all the other versions of him from the past and future. On his 39th birthday, things change abruptly and the next oldest version of him, the man he’s supposed to become in less than a year, is murdered in an elevator. Strangely, the death does not affect those that are older than the victim at the time of his death. The Elders don’t understand the paradox of their continued existence or the fact that everyone’s memories begin to get a bit hazy. As a result, they ask the 39-year-old traveler to investigate. Between the growing number of paradoxes, a strange video found in a hotel room, the danger of guns in too many hands, and a woman named Lily who came out of nowhere and joined the party this time around, the mystery proves to be even harder than it appeared at first.

Man in the Empty Suit is a rich, complex novel that reads like two stories brought together by a single event. The time traveling/murder investigation kicks things off and remains a constant, but it’s somewhat hidden during the a good portion of the narrative under the story of the narrator and Lily’s relationship, his life in a dilapidated New York, and the fake family he meets. The plethora of elements Ferrell brings to the table is impressive, but it requires attentive reading in order to be enjoyed. If the reader is even slightly distracted, the story can become incredibly confusing. And that’s a bad thing when dealing with a 300-page book.

When writing a review about a book like this one, subjectivity can trample fairness unless the reviewer makes an effort to differentiate between what he liked or disliked and what’s not a matter of opinion (everything is a matter of opinion, but you know what I’m trying to say). For starters, one thing is clear: Ferrell can write. His prose is smart and prone to poetic passages, even when drenched in inky darkness. Also, Man in the Empty Suit is a slightly sinister, brooding tale of death and lost love that lovers of depressing sci-fi will take pleasure in. The rest is up for debate. For example, I enjoyed the pervading gloominess and the fact that the story is relentlessly cheerless. However, such writing is not for everyone. Also, there are a things like the liquid memories, moving tattoos, and the paradoxes that the author, I believe, chose to touch on briefly but leave unclear. For someone else, those might be plot holes instead of intentional omissions. We both have the same chances of being right.

Ultimately, Man in the Empty Suit is a must-read for anyone with a taste for literary sci-fi or curious about what a murkier, sadder version of Looper might read like. On the other hand, those looking for a light read to escape their stressful lives or for a tome they can pick up and put down time and again without much thought should stay away from it.