Ever since Dr. Frankenstein lost control of that monster, novelists have been firm on one point: in the hands of the greedy or corrupt, science is a fearsome business. In his new thriller–his best so far–Michael Crichton warns us that we should be afraid, of unregulated genetic engineering in particular. A dotty old multimillionaire has bought a large island off Costa Rica which he has transformed into the world’s largest theme park, devoted to dinosaurs. From fossils and giant computers that work out genetic codes, technicians have re-created the real beasts: carnivorous Tyrannosaurs, poison-spitting Dilophosaurs and, most ominous of all alarmingly intelligent Velociraptors. Computers, electrified fences and constant surveillance keep everything under control, of course, and the brutes are all females so family planning can’t be a problem. Can it?
This island, says a specialist in chaos theory, is “an accident waiting to happen.” Chaos theory is really Murphy’s Law reworked by intellectuals. Of course the whole place goes haywire and only a professor of paleontology who acts like Harrison Ford can avert total disaster. Some books read as if they are embryonic movies (Steven Spielberg has already snatched this one up), but “Jurassic Park” works on its own terms, too. It moves rapidly and manages to be pleasantly didactic. Crichton’s ideas about dinosaurs (they aren’t big lizards, but warmblooded ancestors of birds) conform to the latest fashion.
