How Michael Chrichton's "Congo" Could Have Been Better

I've spent a lot of time today working on my Grandmother's yard because it's good to help out family. In my off time (which my Dad and I are taking a lot of breaks because of the stupendous heat index), I finished reading Michael Chrichton's "Congo". I mean that near literally because 300 pages in paper back is fairly short, all things considered. I liked it enough to not be disgusted with it, but the things that were wrong with it kept getting in the way of what was good about it. I think there are three ways in which it could be immensely improved:

1.) Not writing the book in anticipation of it being a movie.

This one's huge. There's a lot of "screen hogging" in the book that you can tell is written to be part of a movie script. A gorilla that smokes and drinks. The scientist is written to be somewhat bumbling and the but of coarse physical gags. The gorilla punching the "detonate" button while everyone looks on stupidly. Oh, and a few sensing charges 15 miles from a volcano makes the volcano erupt. Really? This stuff just reeks of "Make me into a movie!" and makes for a poor read.

2.) Rename the book to be "The Adventures of Captain Monroe".

Seriously. And rewrite it to be more about him; he's the most compelling character and the best written. A story about a mercenary operating in the tense geopolitics in Africa is a better story than two prop-board scientists. Monroe and his merry band of mercenaries, kicking ass and taking contracts to secure resources in a taut business war between competing industries. An African Yojimbo. Think about it.

3.) Resolve conflicts sans deus ex machina.

This is the greatest offense in the book; Michael Chrichton can't resolve plot conflicts without pulling 11th hour solutions completely out of his ass. After trekking through Africa and camping so many nights, *suddenly* there are laser defense turrets and electrical fencing for protection? Then there's the whole translating the new gorilla species language enough to basically yell "Leave bitch" over a loud speaker, and that's enough to make them go away? These are killing machines, not chihuahuas! Oh, the team is stuck in a downed airplane and surrounded by a hostile tribe, but fortunately there's a hot air balloon in there! What. The. Hell.

I shouldn't talk ill of the dead, but Michael Chrichton was NOT a good writer. His stories are entertaining at best and drivel at worst, but I wouldn't put him anywhere near Turtledove, or Stirling, or Tolkien. The guy was a hack. I rate Congo at about a 60 out of 100, on my scale, but that might be a little generous.