Never before have I come across a book that so thoroughly encapsulates the experience of enjoying a piece of Juicy Fruit gum. Cullen McHael’s debut Inmani: Nova Mundo Blues does just that; the novel provides a world and characters that are satisfying to chew on, but in some ways leaves the reader wanting.
Inmani follows Maxine “Max” Ali, code name Red Mercury, as she seeks out genetically enhanced humans called inmani in the city of Nova Mundo. The product of religious zealotry and martial training, Max goes undercover in the slums of Nova Mundo, establishing herself as a killer-for-hire while seeking clues as to who is leading the human enhancement scheme. The stakes of Max’s mission are compelling, for they extend beyond the political machinations expected of science fiction thrillers: people’s eternal souls are on the line, as to become inmani means a rejection of the church and its influences.
Max is a funny narrator who carries her childhood trauma both in her interactions and her scars. She engages in the world with paradoxical confidence and insecurity, flaunting her physical prowess while shrinking under the smallest social pressures. Max’s shifting worldview is indicated by one of the novel’s nuanced narrative choices — the characterization of Max’s internal dialogue. As she slips deeper into her mission, she has internal conversations with Optimism, Reason and Regret that help the reader recognize her uncertainties even as she believes herself truly committed to her mission.
As fully fleshed out as Max is, the other characters peppering the novel pale in comparison. Max’s devotion to her mission, and her church, produces an imbalance in her interpersonal relationships. This creates a chasm between relationship and motivation that the reader needs help to understand — for example, Jaq swears to never see Max again, but three scenes later sends Max a bouquet. It isn’t until the novel’s second half that we start to see Max put in emotional effort with those around her, making much of the relationship building prior feel undeserved.
Inmani also left me grasping for worldbuilding, as what it possesses is remarkable but what it lacks is stark. Nova Mundo is a city built in the shadow of a colossus, with infrastructure that is increasingly being supported by the church. This deepens the hierarchy in place as the city’s destitute increasingly become inmani to survive, inhibiting their ability to interact with basic healing and technology. This fascinating dichotomy, paired with the blurring of science and magic that creates the world’s most flavorful components, feels less lustrous given its scarcity. Perhaps it is my own biases for the genre, but I wanted more. The novel’s break-neck pace, while refreshing, also meant a loss of the lingering moments to construct the world around. It’s a testament to what McHael has created that I want more of it, a need that will hopefully be addressed in the series to come.
Beneath its growing pains, Inmani shines with true potential and uniqueness. While I strongly suspect Max’s story does not end happily, I look forward to seeing the journey she takes.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s October 2023 issue.
