Sunday 14 September 2014

Doomsday Kids 2: Nester's Mistake

A little while ago I reviewed Karyn Langhorne Folan’s Doomsday Kids, a gripping tale of a group of kids trying to survive in a world destroyed by a nuclear holocaust. I did enjoy it, albeit with the reservation that I was unsure about whether nuclear war, a threat that was very real in the 80s, and continues to be one as long as nuclear weapons exist, makes an appropriate subject for entertainment.

      And part of me still wishes for a debate, a call to arms to responsibility and continued disarmament, if you will, perhaps even a more politicised message as it was in Anton Andreas Guha’s Ende or GudrunPausewang’s Last Children. But maybe that is just my personal reflex after having grown up in the Cold War. And maybe this book would be a fantastic opportunity for book clubs and schools, having none of the inevitable datedness of similar titles. And then, whether a piece of art is merely consumed or properly digested is not within the control of the author – it’s the reader’s job and choice.

        But when I step back, it probably makes sense that a group of terrified children huddling in a bunker and then embarking on a journey to a safe mountain place through nuclear wasteland have simply no time, mind and energy to point the finger and discuss the political intricacies that would have led to nuclear war. They would be stricken by grief about the loss of their families, terrified by a world that had gone from relatively safe to a place in which virtually everything and everyone poses grave danger, from minor cuts and blisters to former longstanding pillars of the community. They’d be choked by fear and panic, overwhelmed by their own inadequacies in survival skills, their tensions aggravated by the remnants of a high school pecking order and juvenile politics.

And that’s what Karyn Folan did just marvellously. Liam’s Promise was a great start to an incredibly gripping and promising series easily up there with, and much more relevant than, The Hunger Games, the Gone series or The Maze Runner.
And Nester’s Mistake, the follow up, is tying up all the loose ends I was missing in the first book, without ever losing suspense, and ending on a nail-biting cliffhanger leading to a third part that can’t come soon enough.

The kids have arrived in the mountain place, but their fight for survival is far from over. I won’t be a spoilsport and give you a summary of what happens – if you have read the first book, you’ll probably be gagging for the rest of it, anyway. There wasn’t anything I didn’t like about it:

All the characters have grown immensely. The teen personalities I remember from the start of the first book, who were typical children grown up in relative affluence, trying to find their place in their high school society, have changed almost beyond recognition – their new harsh life has carved and refined them and added layers and depth. Folan has skilfully used a powerful writer’s tool: knowing and sympathising with what has shaped a person makes you love and root for them, effectively erasing the boundaries between the good and bad guys. While I was tempted to dismiss Amy and Wasserman as the classic high school princess and jock bullies at the start of the first book, my opinion completely changed. I found myself unable to take sides with anyone, which really drew me into the story. There is no true constant hero in this story, heroism or villainy come by moment-to-moment decisions. Amaranth, for instance, the underdog girl I especially liked, made some bad choices in this one, leaving me to wonder if I had misjudged her completely, but goes out on a truly heroic move. And even the dangerously mad neighbour has a moment in the light, making it impossible to truly hate her.

     The other bit that I really liked (for want of a better word) was that Folan caught up on the inevitable radiation sickness, which I found had been on the sidelines in the first book. But then, exposure and the cumulative effects take time, and in book 2 it became a central, well-described enemy. It’s one of the aspects that frighten me most about nuclear war: The blast is just the beginning. Living in a poisoned world in which nothing much will thrive and grow anymore, and which saps you of strength and health, is a pointless exercise at odds with the human instinct for hope and survival at any cost. And yet those kids fight. And you can’t help but fight with them every step along the way.

Simply awesome... while I'm usually not one to advertise e-books, preferring my good old hard copies, I do urge you to give this a try.

Absolutely cannot wait for part 3.

Yours, radiantly

Patty


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