No, that's not just a scene from this book; it's also an observation about the current horror scene. Especially the small press - zombie books are everywhere. There are even presses/imprints dedicated to only zombies. When you start to see anthologies like this one or a wave of shitty zombie "mash-ups" like this one, you know things have gone too far.
So, not the ideal environment to unleash Yet Another Zombie Novel, unless you are perfectly happy with being labelled Yet Another Cashing In Zombie Author, or, of course, unless you have something truly special on your hands. Perhaps you have a sterling new idea - though that is pretty unlikely in the barrel scraping exercise that is the modern zombie genre. So you better just hope that you can rise above the zombie horde due to superior execution. Literary merit. That sort of thing.
Alden Bell's The Reapers are the Angels (Henry Holt, 2010) aims to be doing just that. It has already been hyped as a literary zombie novel, has a major publisher, and the back cover is conspicuously absent of blurbs from any real horror authors (wouldn't want to be associated with that lot, oh no). Blurbage that name-drops Flannery O'Conner, William Faulkner, Cormac McCarthy - whew, that's a lot to live up to. Is the hype warranted?
From the blurb:
For twenty-five years, civilization has survived in meager enclaves, guarded against a plague of the dead. Temple wanders this blighted landscape, keeping to herself and keeping her demons inside her heart. She can't remember a time before the zombies, but she does remember an old man who took her in and the younger brother she cared for until the tragedy that set her on a personal journey toward redemption. Moving back and forth between the insulated remnants of society and the brutal frontier beyond, Temple must decide where ultimately to make a home and find the salvation she seeks.
The first thing you'll notice about the writing is the lack of speech marks in the dialogue; much like you'll encounter in, say, Cormac McCarthy's The Road. For the most part this works; the context is enough to work out whether something is being spoken or not. The similarities with McCarthy don't entirely end there, either. This book is severely downbeat at times, but ultimately rescues itself from the deep dark misery-pit of McCarthy with the occasional glimpse of hope and redemption.
The writing style is effective: expressive, occasionally lurid. The opening passages are a sign of things to come:
God is a slick god. Temple knows. She knows because of all the crackerjack miracles still to be seen on this ruined globe.
When it works, it really works, but there were a couple of times where a complicated, run-on sentence left me thinking, huh?, even on re-reading.
My initial impression of the story was that it was essentially a post-apocalyptic picaresque. And things could have continued that way for the length of the book; pointless or not, it was well executed enough to guarantee an enjoyable - though meandering, leisurely - read. However, things soon gel. The protagonist finds a purpose, a chance to redeem herself in the form of a rescued innocent that needs to be returned home. And she also gains a nemesis, a product of her past demons. This adds some much needed tension: will she fulfil her quest before her nemesis catches up with her?
So how is the gut-crunching "zombie action"? Thankfully, while present, it is not the raison d’être of this book. I won't go as far as some of the reviews I've seen, which claim that the zombies are merely background. There are a few key parts of this book where the living dead are primary to the plot, that there would have to be some serious contrivances for it to work well otherwise. And just when you think there are "just zombies", Bell throws something else into the mix. I won't completely spoil the surprise, but it does involve country hicks and... experiments.
Overall, despite my initial cynicism, I have to admit that I really enjoyed this book. For a relatively short book (225 pages) it certainly feels deep, and it is the right length. Despite a couple of overcooked passages, literary bloat is at a minimum. Excellent stuff.
If there is one book you want to rescue from the zombie glut, this may be it.
No comments:
Post a Comment