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The Tomorrow

Windows

JUNE 2004

The Tomorrow Windows comes with a pronouncement from its author, Jonathan

Morris, that it isn’t a pastiche of Douglas Adams’ work. He’s wrong - it is, but fortunately it’s

a bloody brilliant one. The prose is almost as sharp as the acclaimed Hitch-Hiker’s Guide

to the Galaxy author’s, and the madcap plot could quite easily have accommodated Arthur Dent and company instead of the Doctor, Fitz and Trix. Most important of all though, Morris perfectly captures the affronted spirit of all Adams’ works; the wry cynicism papering over unqualified despair.

The narrative is, for the most part, utterly bonkers, but that’s not to say that it isn’t subtle or clever. Indeed, awash as it is with onomatopoeically absurd names, nutty characters and unfathomable aliens, the story had to be even more persuasive than one couched in more sensible staples. The key concept of “heritage planets” being surreptitiously sabotaged so that they can be freely traded is absolutely inspired, for instance. Not only does it reek of Adams’ vicious whimsy, but it’s actually quite an interesting foundation for a Doctor Who story in any event. Better still are the eponymous Tomorrow Windows, which are employed as a counter-measure against the aforesaid sabotage. Whilst one faction do their level best to spark war and suffering on the heritage planets, another offers these planets’ peoples a glimpse of things to come – or at least, the gist of them – in the hope that this foresight will help them help themselves, and thus redress the balance. It’s barking mad, obviously, but completely compelling and totally brilliant.

The novel’s opening is one of the strongest that you’re likely to find in any Doctor Who book. I’m a real sucker for stories that see the real world and the Whoniverse overlap, and here, in his opening chapters, the author has the Doctor and his companions sauntering around Tate Modern, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Ricky Gervais; Ken Livingstone; and even half of Blur. The Doctor’s encounter with London’s then-Mayor is particularly amusing, as Red Ken reminisces with his old alien friend about the events of The Web of Fear; Spearhead from Space; Invasion of the Dinosaurs; and even The Dying Days – none of which the Doctor is able to recall, but his role in which he’s suitably smug about.

However, some readers are likely to be put off by The Tomorrow Windows’ aberrant use of continuity references. Indeed, the flood of nods and winks to earlier adventures seems to be trying to make up for the dearth of them in post-Ancestor Cell novels, both in a literary and a literal sense. The amnesiac Doctor’s reactions to this story’s salvo of them are intriguing, to say the least, as memories of monsters as sundry as my old favourite the Kandyman and the Daleks suddenly start popping up inside his head. Wanton references to then-recent audio dramas such as Project: Lazarus, Flip-Flop, Master, and even Zagreus are a little harder to justify artistically, but as editor of a website that’s bread and butter is bringing the disparate strands of the Whoniverse together, I can hardly complain. Indeed, it is novels like this one and audios such as Morris’s Company of Friends episode that keep us in business.

As well as doing interesting things with the Doctor,

Morris also deals the companions a fair hand. Fitz

is on riotous form throughout – not only is he gifted

the funniest gag (“Gallifraxion Four?”), but he gets

to play Hercule Poirot in space. And what’s really

funny is that he plays the part very well. Meanwhile,

Trix’s apparently bottomless depths are probed

a little further, Morris suggesting that her various

guises aren’t adopted just to deceive or inveigle –

they’re adopted so that she can try to hide from

herself and her memories; so that she can might assume a strength that isn’t really her own.

However, much like the work to which it pays homage, The Tomorrow Windows gets very broad very quickly – perhaps a little too quickly for my tastes. The whole planet may not be demolished to make way for a Hyperspace bypass, but Tate Modern does suffer a similar fate, quickly giving rise to a similarly ambitious jaunt across the galaxy. The Doctor and his companions’ mission sees them take in places as diverse as Utopia, Gadrahadradon and Lewisham, and encounter creatures as varied as the miniscule Micron and the killer cars of Estebol. For me, the book runs out of steam long before it ends, but even when my attention in the story was flagging, the writing itself kept me reading. It’s Adams through and through;

a materialist masterpiece.

I can understand why many readers are put off by imitation or homage, but as long as it’s not poor imitation or bald-faced plagiarism then I’m generally quite open-minded. Hell, I actually prefer Morrisons’ own-brand cookies to many leading brands (they bake them fresh in the store, see). The Tomorrow Windows isn’t fresher or better than the real thing though, but it does successfully tell an Adams-style story within the world of Doctor Who, and with a little more aplomb then those Adams penned himself. At times it works, and at others it doesn’t, but one constant that is sure to remain throughout is the smile on its readers’ faces.

Copyright © E.G. Wolverson 2011

E.G. Wolverson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

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