Hope on the horizon
Walkaway By Cory Doctorow (Tor; 384 pages; $24.99)
Dystopian fiction is all the rage. George Orwell’s “1984” and Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale” are enjoying renewed popularity. Newer authors such as Paolo Bacigalupi, Emily St. John Mandel and Claire Vaye Watkins craft literary thrillers that detail the devastation of climate change and global pandemics. But what about utopian visions? Who dares suggest that people, the poor as well as the ultra-rich, might thrive in the future?
Cory Doctorow, author of “Little Brother” and “Homeland,” presents a disturbing, if still hopeful, vision of the future in “Walkaway.” Set in the mid-21st century, when anyone can 3-D print pretty much whatever they need in terms of food, shelter and clothes, the novel follows a trio in their 20s — Hubert, Seth and Natalie — as they abandon the world of corrupt plutocrats and leave behind their possessions, debts, jobs and dysfunctional families.
Removing oneself from the clutches of global capitalism is easier said than done. The pioneering walkaways must navigate cities ruined by industrial flight and landscapes wrecked by climate change. As the movement grows, the elites become more desperate, hiring mercenaries to kidnap family members they regard as dangerous revolutionaries. Fortunately, the walkaways possess a weapon that might trump all others — immortality.
Doctorow has given a lot of thought to the practical and political underpinnings of his fictional world, and he mostly assumes his readers will be able to keep up with him.
Character say things like, “A pod of mercs and an infotech goon pwned everything using some zeroday they’d bought from scumbag default infowar researchers. They took over the drone fleet, and while we dewormed it, seized the mechas.”
That’s a lot of technical jargon to unpack, and some potential readers might not have the patience for it. Those who persevere, however, will be rewarded by Doctorow’s deft plotting, his fondness for geeky humor and his knack for creating idiosyncratic, whip-smart characters.
For all the disasters it details, “Walkaway” imparts a genuine conviction that the world can be a better place, if only we would work to make it so. This big, expansive book’s utopian bent is earned, rather than merely asserted, and readers eager for some encouraging words in times of trouble will not be disappointed.
Borne By Jeff VanderMeer (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; 336 pages; $26)
After decades as an author and anthologist well respected within the field of speculative fiction but not as well known outside it, Jeff VanderMeer broke through to a wider popular audience with the Southern Reach trilogy, begun in 2014. The first volume now being adapted for the screen by director Alex Garland, the trio of novels — “Annihilation,” “Authority” and “Acceptance” — was set in a mysterious, dangerous, walled-off segment of the Florida coast and played to its author’s fondness for surrealistic biological horror.
VanderMeer follows the trilogy with “Borne,” a standalone novel set in the near-future ruins of a city once ruled by a defunct biotech company. The narrator, a young scavenger named Rachel, spends her days searching for useful bits of protein or metal, always on the lookout for Mord, a gargantuan flying bear who terrorizes the inhabitants of the city and the wastelands surrounding it. Mord is the quintessential VanderMeer antagonist, on one hand goofy to the point of ridiculousness, on the other utterly chilling in its ferocity and relentlessness.
Rachel knows that Mord’s matted fur collects all sorts of useful detritus, and one day she finds within his dirty pelt a creature she calls “Borne.” She takes Borne home to the building she shares with her partner, Wick, and begins to teach him how to speak English and eventually how to navigate the savage world outside. Although initially resembling some combination of sea anemone and squid, Borne is an adept shapeshifter, capable of morphing into a seemingly infinite variety of shapes and sizes.
Traditionally, shapeshifters have fluid sets of ethics, and Borne is no exception. Over time, Rachel — and Wick especially — suspect that the frequently childlike Borne is capable of more than he lets on, that he may, in fact, be lethally dangerous. The crucial question for them becomes, “Is Borne a person or is he a weapon?”
VanderMeer’s answer is urgent and harrowing. Borne seems to be an anomaly, one who desperately seeks some kind of kinship, always frustrated when he can’t find anyone or anything remotely like him. “Borne” speaks to the universal need for connection and the quest for love and acceptance.
VanderMeer’s apocalyptic vision, with its mix of absurdity, horror and grace, can’t be mistaken for that of anyone else. Inventive, engrossing and heartbreaking, “Borne” finds him at a high point of creative accomplishment.
The End of the Day By Claire North (Redhook; 432 pages; $26)
As he freely admits to anyone who asks, Charlie is the Harbinger of Death. He is the one who travels the globe ahead of his employer, bringing to specific individuals a small gift — a set of crystal tumblers, an aromatherapy set, a bottle of maple syrup. His arrival may be interpreted as either a warning or a courtesy.
Most people accept that he’s employed as he says he is. When Charlie landed the job, “the first thing he did was phone his mum, who was very proud. It wasn’t what she’d ever imagined him doing, of course, not really, but it came with a pension and a good starting salary, and if it made him happy.”
That paragraph might suggest that Claire North’s new fantasy novel, “The End of the Day,” is a whimsical meditation on the end of things. It’s not. Charlie is a nice guy and a sensitive soul, but the novel is thoroughly toughminded in its exploration of what it means to live and die in the 21st century.
As he travels the world, Charlie faces terror, pity, joy and a jumble of other conflicting emotions as he encounters people with very different attitudes about mortality. Some fear death; others welcome it. Even as Charlie takes enjoyment from his relationship with his girlfriend Emmi, he finds that his visits to people in extremis are taking a huge toll. He’s seen too much but cannot stop.
“The End of the Day” starts a little slowly, taking its time in establishing Charlie’s mission. But the narrative picks up speed, keeping the reader racing toward revelation of Charlie’s ultimate fate. North adroitly sets the scenes and enlivens them with compelling, ironic dialogue, and she keeps the surprises coming until the very end.
The author of “The Sudden Appearance of Hope” and “The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August,” Claire North is the pen name of youngadult writer Catherine Webb, who also publishes as Katie Griffin. No matter what she calls herself, North is an exciting voice in contemporary fantasy, and “The End of the Day” should be a welcome calling card from her to many new readers.