Book Review: White Horse, by Alex Adams

Alex Adams’ White Horse came galloping out of the herd of dystopian fiction earlier this year, accompanied by lots of positive reviews and buzz. I took a bet on it, but unfortunately, for me, what I had taken for a White Horse was, in actuality, a bob-tailed nag.

(Okay, okay…no more horse puns.)

While it initially seemed like a promising example of a post-apocalypse novel, I ended up finishing White Horse solely for the reveals. Even when reading something that I don’t entirely enjoy for various reasons, if there are unanswered questions and the twists come fast and furious, I’ll still read it. This was the case with White Horse, where though I could tell within the first 75 or so pages that this wasn’t going to be a favorite of mine, there were tons of twists.

Book Review: Divergent, by Veronica Roth

It did not take me long to realize that Divergent, by Veronica Roth, was probably not the book for me. I am naturally a critical person, though I can happily and willingly suspend my disbelief for a variety of sci-fi and fantasy premises. But I could really and truly not buy into the faction system in Divergent, and that–among other issues–prevented me from losing myself in the novel and enjoying it to the fullest.

First, here is the summary from GoodReads:

In Beatrice Prior’s dystopian Chicago, society is divided into five factions, each dedicated to the cultivation of a particular virtue—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). On an appointed day of every year, all sixteen-year-olds must select the faction to which they will devote the rest of their lives. For Beatrice, the decision is between staying with her family and being who she really is—she can’t have both. So she makes a choice that surprises everyone, including herself.

During the highly competitive initiation that follows, Beatrice renames herself Tris and struggles to determine who her friends really are—and where, exactly, a romance with a sometimes fascinating, sometimes infuriating boy fits into the life she’s chosen. But Tris also has a secret, one she’s kept hidden from everyone because she’s been warned it can mean death. And as she discovers a growing conflict that threatens to unravel her seemingly perfect society, she also learns that her secret might help her save those she loves… or it might destroy her.

Sounds cool, right? Yeah. But then you learn more about the factions system, and you realize there is just no way this could possibly work. And I guess that’s the point, as the reader comes to understand all is not well in future Chicago, with inter-faction tension boiling. But what did they think was going to happen if you arbitrarily divide people up and then focus on cultivating a single trait to the exclusion of all others? Who proposed this, and how the heck did they get everyone else to go along with a system so doomed to fail? How are these artificial divisions any better than divisions along race, political affiliation, gender, etc.? What about traits that don’t have their own factions, like loyalty? How can someone be honest without being brave, or be selfless without being peaceful? It was never adequately explained and it was a real thorn in my side. The world-building failed to convince me, and so I approached everything that followed feeling off-balance and a little cranky. Again, I love creative sci-fi premises, but I need to see that the work has been put into making the world seem logical. When compared to the world-building of A Song of Ice and Fire or Ender’s Game or, yes, The Hunger Games, the setting and atmosphere in Divergent feels very juvenile.

Review: When She Woke, by Hillary Jordan

Imagine bearing clearly-visible evidence of a crime you had committed. Imagine never being able to take off the sigil that branded you as a criminal. Imagine the eyes burning the back of your head, the taunts, the parents protectively grabbing their children when you walked by.

The force of this public shaming is a large part of what makes Hillary Jordan’s  When She Woke such an interesting novel. Anyone convicted of a serious crime–such as murder–is melachromed: their skin is dyed red, or yellow, or blue (depending on the crime), instantly outing them…and cutting down their chances of survival once they’re reintroduced to public life.

The underlying premise of When She Woke is thoughtful and well-crafted: After a sexually-transmitted “Plague” hits the United States, in addition to other unspecified disasters including overcrowded prisons, a large swath of the country becomes extremely (and I mean EXTREMELY) religiously-conservative, outlawing abortion and establishing a Secretary of Faith position in the presidential cabinet. LGBTQ individuals are seen as pitable freaks at best and agents of Satan at worst. Much like Margaret Atwood’s A Handmaid’s Tale, women are valued only for their ability to procreate, and are expected to be subservient to their husbands’ will. (The truly scary thing is that there are people who really think like this, in 2012, and some of them are even in charge of legislating. Shudder.) Into this frightful (and frighteningly-believable) world, we follow Hannah, a rule-abiding young woman…who has just had an abortion and been melachromed red for the crime of murder.

The few glimpses we get of the world outside Texas and Hannah’s small circle are tantalizing. Her friend Kayla, for example, is not nearly as sheltered as Hannah and has been able to date, attend college, and formulate her own views on religion. We hear that abortion is still legal in California and New York, and that diplomatic relations between the U.S. and Canada have been served. I would love to see Jordan explore this world again, in more detail (sequel alert?). The ramifications of this hyper-religious U.S. would be so interesting to see, especially on a global scale. Have we been denounced by the U.N. as a human-rights violator? Have other countries filled the void we left as a superpower?

Overall, I very much liked being brought along on Hannah’s journey from shame and guilt to strength and empowerment. Many of the changes she experienced felt very natural, as her horizons broadened through the necessity of survival. Her musings about free will versus predestination were especially interesting, and I would have liked to hear more; her struggles to reconcile her religious beliefs with her new experiences was, I think, very true to what many sheltered individuals go through the first time they are confronted with proof that the world is not as straightforward as they were taught. While some reviewers did not like Jordan’s attempt to counterbalance the negatives of blind religious faith with the benefits of religion, I thought it was a nice touch. Hannah has been steeped in this type of thinking her entire life; even after all she’s been though, it’s much more realistic for her to try to find a way to adapt her religious views than abandon them altogether, at least right away.

A few things kept this from being a full four or five star book for me, however.

 

Review: The Zona

It did not surprise me to learn that Nathan Yocum, author of The Zona, is an award-winning screenwriter. As I was reading this, his debut novel, I could not stop picturing it as a movie. (I will honestly be very surprised if it isn’t optioned, especially with the popularity of dystopias generally and the upcoming Hunger Games specifically!)

Imagine: After being devastated by rains, floods, and drought, the United States as we know it collapses. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, are killed by the disasters, while rugees are rounded up and left in camps to die from one of many rampaging new illnesses.  In the west, the Church rises up and establishes a theocracy to rule over what’s left of Arizona (aka Zona), Utah, New Mexico, and California. Their mission is to wipe out sin–by sending out Preachers and Crusaders to kill anyone the Church decrees to be a “sinner.” We follow Lead, a Preacher who begins to question the Church’s methods after meeting, and being saved by, a sinner.

Now I’ll be damned if that’s not a movie I’d go see! Luckily, the story works very well as a book, too, thanks to several factors: the atmosphere, the environment, and the journey.

I’ve already described the atmosphere a bit above, but Yocum really writes a realistic portrayal of people living under an oppressive regime. People are afraid–of the Church, of radiation, of starvation, of each other. Those who have managed to survive do so by scraping out a living from the harsh desert and avoiding the attention of the Preachers. Music and books are contraband; there is no art or culture to speak of. While the theocracy of Zona may provide society with some structure and discipline in the wake of collapse and anarchy, it is clearly fascist and concerned only with maintaining its power.

Secondly, the physical environment is practically its own character. You are never allowed to forget that the desert is an unlivable place, with heat, drought, insects, and poisonous creatures all conspiring to kill you. Journeys across the desert are realistically difficult, with characters becoming dehydrated, sunburned, injured, and even drugged. The descriptions of Lead and his companion’s thirst are especially powerful, and serve as a stark and physical reminder that humans are pretty fragile creatures, despite the Church’s talk of God’s salvation.

Finally, Lead’s journey from fugee to Preacher to wanderer is engaging from start to finish. While some aspects may be cliche–the older, wiser ex-Preacher, for example–the story was so engrossing I really didn’t mind. Lead’s story is that of a survivor, and I liked that Yocum didn’t shy away from what “nice” characters will do when faced with the end of the world. Lead gets nervous, makes mistakes, and hurts others–and I appreciated him as a flawed, but ultimately redeemed, character.

I also loved the ending, which was simultaneously uplifting and depressing. (Spoiler alert!) It reminded me, nicely, of the ending of Lois Lowry’s The Giver, wherein there are basically two ways to read it: one, Lead is dying and has a hallucination of a man leading him to freedom, or two, the man is really there and will actually save Lead. Open to interpretation? Love it.

Recommended for fans of dystopian literature, or for those who like book-to-movie adaptations!

I received The Zona for review from Curiosity Quills through NetGalley. The Zona is available as of February 15.

Bookwanderer Rating: Four out of five stars