The hype around Dungeon Crawler Carl finally broke me. I've been searching my library apps for the audiobook (which I hear is great), but to no avail. With a waiting list that'll take longer than I'd like, I opted to dive into the four-chapter preview that the Libby app provides its users.
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| Source: Matt Dinniman official site. |
What is Dungeon Crawler Carl about? Here's what Matt Dinniman says on his official website, "You know what’s worse than breaking up with your girlfriend? Being stuck with her prize-winning show cat. And you know what’s worse than that? An alien invasion, the destruction of all man-made structures on Earth, and the systematic exploitation of all the survivors for a sadistic intergalactic game show. That’s what."
From the opening paragraph I knew I would hate this book. Immediately, I was picking up vibes like I did when reading Cline's Ready Player One. If you hated that book, I think you'll hate this one too. I sure did. And I think I know why. Both volumes appeal to a sense of insider knowledge that excludes those not steeped in the secret lore. If you're a nerd, or a geek, you will sure love this! We're going to make references! It feels gate-keepy to me, whether that's intentional or not.
Carl's just a regular dude. Six-foot-something and "I don't work out, but I look alright," he reminds me of the heroes from the pulp era; machismo and capability but without any kind of self-awareness or humility that made them likeable. Self-described as "not an asshole," which he feels the need to mention constantly within the first couple of chapters, you're left with the impression that Carl is probably the asshole. He broke up with his girlfriend because of an Instagram post and started smoking with her cat in their shared apartment out of spite (but hey, he cracked a window because he respects that cat! What a good dude!). He's also ex-Coast Guard, a trained martial artist, and an electrician. Just a regular everyman. Oh, and he "doesn't like drama." Carl is just a set of walking red flags in his one-dimensionality. In fact, as much (if not more) words are dedicated to describing Princess Donut, a Persian cat who is the other main character in the series.
I'm out of it constantly, but the series is part of the LitRPG genre, which is otherworldly fiction that also includes traditional RPG mechanics found on character sheets, like stats, skills and so forth. Carl's stats are the standard six popularized in RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons. Dinniman has Carl quote both D&D and Pathfinder as games he knows from his service days, so the author is definitely familiar.
I didn't know about LitRPG before reading this book, but if you're familiar with modern isekai material like .hack or Sword Art Online, then you will understand this book. You have my apologies in advance. I also didn't realize that it's become a very popular genre in recent years, but that's on me. I don't read much newer stuff, and usually dislike it when I do (looking at you Sanderson, the Raising Cane's of fantasy).
And speaking of iskeai, I think what's unfortunate about this book is how well it trods those well traveled paths of the genre. It's a contributing factor to my distaste, as I feel I've seen it before. It also explains why those in my circles might enjoy it; they're not consuming stories in those spaces at the same volume I have. I can fairly say that much of my dislike comes from isekai burnout. If you are or were a Marvel fan, you might relate to the pure saturation these bloated works occupy.
Besides the stumbling introduction, the first thing that irked me was the pop ups. We hate them in real life, we hate them in Dungeon Crawler Carl. Maybe if I read further, he'd have one using tricks to stay open? We've seen this in other places, and especially in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Both serve the same purpose, which is to allow the author to give pithy info dumps. I'm not against the idea, but the execution left me feeling sour. If anything, I find it more interesting and engaging when the protag's guide is an actual character. From the genre, I point to the example of Hugi from Three Hearts, Three Lions by Poul Anderson. Hugi was knowledgeable of the world as he guided Holger, but had a personality that helped weave the lore dumps into the story, instead of reading like a footnote within the prose.
We have another exposition dump with the alien corporation, who then explains over the next several pages the rules of the game world (BTW Earth is now an 18 level dungeon for survivors to crawl). Notably, you learn that as each level is cleared, remaining exits to the next level are halved. At the end, there will be two, and then one exit for Carl to reach. Or will he sacrifice himself for Donut? Or a love interest? Or a love interest who is Donut?
Dialogue is not a strength for Dinniman. And every time characters speak, you can feel your eyes cry. Now Carl is new to this situation, so I do have empathy for him. It's just sad that so much of his reactions are literally "Oh shit!" and "What is this?" It's tiresome and a waste of words. Later, when meeting a mentor figure, we have to deal with the affectation of the mentor calling Carl "kid." Since the mentor is a shape changer, and states that he'll reappear later when more dungeon levels are cleared, I'm sure readers will feel smart when a stranger calls Carl "kid" again. Borrowing from series like The Hunger Games, the mentor, Mordecai, is the Haymitch to Carl's Katniss.
More pages get dedicated to describing the achievements Carl unlocks. At some point, the text just has him dismissing them, which I'm sure will be a plot point that returns to bite him in the ass. It's the achievement text that really burns my butter; it's the low effort sarcasm of modern internet discourse passing as humor. I realize how old I sound typing that out, by the way. But seriously, the passages were tiring to read.
Let me give Matt Dinniman some credit after shitting on so much of his work. I think he writes serviceable action sequences. Carl's first real fight with some goblins was fairly interesting to read. The language is jumpy and exciting. The downside is this scene could have done more to help set the tone for violence in the series. As enemies, the goblins felt interesting. But also, they are just a pastiche of everything we expect of goblins in our cultural zeitgeist. Mordecai delivers an entire speech about how the aliens made sure to study Earth and humans thoroughly so that they could have a really entertaining dungeon show! While the idea is cool, it easily rewards lazy writing, and Matt exploits this by throwing the most tired ideas at us. The book even takes time to tell us the dungeon concept is Survivor meets Running Man.
So, can I recommend this book? If you want something that's mental junk food and requires little thought, I think this series is for you. It's the literary equivalent of a Netflix show you put on in the background. You barely have to pay attention to what's going on. Every few pages, there is an exposition dump to make sure you're caught up on the action. For me, it's the movie that is intentionally made in the vein of B-movies with shlock and gore and violence while winking at the camera, but it lacks the earnestness and soul that makes the worst ones cult classics. It's litslop for the booktok crowd.
My initial reaction posted to Instagram was, "Hitchhikers meets Hunger Games by way of Ready Player One while the author feeds you a shit sandwich of the English language." I stand by that statement. I'm glad I checked out the preview and didn't spend more time or money reading the full book.
Finally, it's my understanding that it's been optioned as a TV show. I think that's a fine place for it, and I think it'll work great in that space. It just sucks as a book. Maybe Dinniman should write screenplays.
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