Peter Liu - Bald New World

After my heart gives out and I’m on the operating table for emergency surgery, I will have told my physicians and surgeons to replace my heart with Peter Tieryas Liu’s Bald New World , or any of his books really, because that’s what I think of when I think of his writing — heart. Similar to the work of Philip K. Dick, this parodic dystopia is steeped in futuristic technology that further bridges the gap between man and machine. Still, whether watching the latest episode of the immensely popular reality show Jesus the General or sparring against an opponent in the blood-sport known as cricket fighting, the humanity of our narrator shines through. Although we humans are capable of doing and creating sad, funny, glorious, devious things, we also persevere and adapt, survive. I wonder what Huxley would think of this, but he’s dead. You’re not, so read this book, feel alive.

Jason Jordan, author of Pestilence , editor of decomP

The boldly imaginative Bald New World follows Nicholas Guan, a military type tasked to digitally touch up scenes of carnage, in his misadventures from Korea to a futuristic California and in his frenzied dash from Gamble Town to China. The novel tells of beautifully flawed characters, the blurring distinction between reality and virtual environments, the comical yet chilling wave of religious fanaticism, and a world battling a strange malady called the Great Baldification, an ingenious symbol of human vanity. Peter Tieryas Liu’s Bald New World is vivid, exhilarating, and wildly entertaining.

Kristine Ong Muslim, author of We Bury the Landscape and Grim Series

Bald New World is a hypnotic, surreal, and insightful novel, blending Blade Runner and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle to create a dark, funny, and captivating story. One of the best books I’ve read this year.

Richard Thomas, Staring Into the Abyss

I was eleven when everyone in the world lost their hair. I got up from bed, terrified to see that all my hair had fallen out. In the mirror, the uneven bumps on my head formed an alien tapestry that made me feel like I was staring at a stranger. I spotted a thick black mole above my ear that I’d never seen before and scratched it, only to find it wasn’t going away. Both of my parents were away on a business trip so I ran to my older sister, Kelly, hoping she knew what was wrong with me. I found her crying on the bathroom floor, clutching her own fallen hair. My eyes went to her scalp, an oddly shaped oval with protrusions jutting out. “What are you looking at?!” she demanded.

“Your head,” I replied. “What happened?”

She got up, pushed me angrily, then ran out of our apartment. I chased her, not wanting to be left behind. When I exited our building, she was nowhere in sight. Instead, a sea of bald people confronted me — everyone on the street had lost their hair. There was a frenzied madness in their eyes, confusion causing many of them to walk in a daze. I trembled as strangers accosted me and yelled that, “The whole world is doomed,” and, “We’re being punished for our vanities!” The Los Angeles Police blocked most of the major roads because riots were breaking out and I went from barricade to barricade in a daze. Trash littered the streets, stores were burning, and looters stole everything they could. I wanted to get to a 24-hour restaurant where Kelly’s friend worked when I noticed a man lying on his back on the sidewalk, motionless. His eyes had an apathetic gleam and his hands were covered in blood. Motorcycles honked and periodic echoes from bullets triggered car alarms. He was impervious to noise. “Sir?” I called. “Sir?” He didn’t answer and when I stepped closer, I saw that he wasn’t breathing. I stumbled back, shocked by the sight. It was the first dead man I’d ever seen.

I got out my phone to call my parents but accidentally pushed the button for the camera. On the digital screen, the corpse didn’t look as horrifying and in some ways, looked fake, especially as I could alter the angle of my view. That sense of control calmed me until I heard a spray of bullets from behind. I turned the camera in the direction of the rioters and saw they were charging the police barricade. The police responded with smoke bombs and guns. I turned around and ran home as fast as I could, dodging rioters and masked thieves who targeted stragglers.

It was a miracle I got through alive. I called my parents several times though none of my calls connected. My sister’s phone was off as was my cousin’s, Baochai, who wasn’t home even though she was supposed to take care of us while my parents were away (probably partying in downtown like she did every night). My legs wouldn’t stop trembling and I accidentally knocked over a stack of bills on our apartment floor. I cleaned up the mess, only to stumble into the buckets that were substitutes for toilets to save on our water fees. A string of explosions lit up the sky outside and I heard people screaming in pain. Their cries scared me and I hid in the closet, covering myself with blankets just in case anyone broke into our unit. Our building was shaking and I wished someone, anyone, was home. Unfortunately, my only companions were the roaches swarming my feet and I was stuck imagining a thousand horrible deaths. Every noise made me want to break into tears and whenever I heard running outside the walls, I wondered if people were coming to break the door down. I tried watching the video I’d captured earlier only to realize I hadn’t hit the record button. Sleep was impossible and not just because of the stream of gunfire outside. I counted the minutes like they were hours.

I never found out who the dead man was and in the same way, almost twenty-five years later, the best explanation for the hair loss researchers had were still just theories. Speculation ran rampant as the accused ranged from pollution to global warming and bio-terror as well as solar spikes. Some had feared it was a disease similar to alopecia universalis that would worsen with time, but no further symptoms materialized. The follicles had sealed at a cuticle level and a chemical reaction in our bodies had inexplicably caused the permanent termination of hair growth. Baldness became a fact of life.

I don’t want to blame everything bad that happened on the Great Baldification as it came to be known. But it was the beginning of a lot of social change in the world. Marriages broke up at ten times the normal rate and my parents ended up getting divorced two months after the Baldification. Maybe it was the strain from endless fights or that they never liked each other much to begin with. I never heard from my biological father after the divorce. My biological mother dropped me off permanently with Cousin Baochai so that she could pursue her dream of being a travel blogger. My sister, Kelly, going against the trend, married her rap star wanna-be boyfriend and I rarely saw her again after that.

Our economy regressed from disastrous to beyond redemption. Accelerated resource depletion forced countries into a war over Africa even though we were technically all part of the United Nations Peacekeeping Force. Unemployment rates were at 56 % in the States (though official reports had it at 5.5 %), so soldiering was the only chance for a career most of our generation had. I signed up for the army and was assigned to the media department because of my passions for cameras despite all the combat training they gave me.