Book: After: Nineteen
Stories of Apocalypse and Dystopia
Editors: Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling
Pages: 359
Copy: advanced reader copy
Read: finished September 2
Spoilers: minor details, but nothing that ruins anything
Upon first seeing this book, I had my usual, aggravated
reaction to anyone who lumps apocalyptic and dystopian literature
together. Luckily, the editors anticipated
me. Windling and Datlow admit that “blistering
arguments about what should and shouldn’t be labeled dystopian fiction” (which
they rather annoyingly refer to as dyslit from throughout the rest of the
introduction) “have consumed whole Internet forums, convention panels, and book
review columns…As for us…we’ve chosen to take a broader road in the creation of
this anthology, including both
dystopian and post-disaster tales…” Fair
enough. While I cling to the classic definition of
dystopia, I appreciate anyone who takes a moment to explain the difference and
admit they what exactly they are doing.
The collection opens with an interesting, if rather short, story
by Genevieve Valentine. While Valentine’s
position isn’t precisely a new one (this story bears some resemblance to
Stephen King’s The
Running Man, in that both stories deal with reality TV—Valentine’s version
is much more YA
friendly, though, lacking the goriness of King’s novel), she does a good job
introducing teen readers to this subgenre of dystopian literature. (On second thought, anyone who’s read The Hunger Games will already know the
reality TV-dystopia. Still, Valentine’s
story comes from enough of a different angle to be interesting, if slightly derivative.)
The next story, “After the Cure” by Carrie Ryan, is one of
the best in the collection. Having read
Ryan’s YA book (The Forest of Hands and
Teeth), I find this short story infinitely superior and far from the melodrama
that deeply marred her novel. “After the
Cure” is psychologically complex and asks important questions about survivors. Ryan’s contribution to the collection is one
of the few I’ve thought about since, so interesting are the questions it asks
and the answers it suggests.
Other standout stories include Matthew Kressel’s “The Great
Game at the End of the World,” another deeply complex story with heavy
questions; “Reunion” by Susan Beth Pfeffer, which kept me guessing with its
complex post-rebellion moodiness; Jeffrey Ford’s painfully relevant “Blood
Drive,” which may be a little difficult to read given current events; Steven
Gould’s “Rust with Wings;” “Faint Heart” by Sarah Rees Brennan, which does
joyful battle with clichéd gender roles; and Nalo Hopkinson’s “The Easthound,”
which has as surprising an ending as can be expected. That there are seven excellent stories in a
collection of this sort is nothing short of miraculous.
I found three stories to be absolute failures. Katharine Langrish’s “Visiting Nelson” has
the seed of an excellent story, given that it is a melting pot of A Clockwork Orange, 1984, and other dystopias based in London, but she doesn’t accomplish
enough. She might have better luck if
she extends her story, though only if she does so carefully. Her writing isn’t so engaging that I would
put up with it for long. Gregory Maguire
(whom, I will admit, I’ve never really enjoyed) offers a nearly unreadable
story (“How Th’irth Wint Rong By Hapless Joey @ Homeskool.guv). His narrators are nearly illiterate
survivors, but they aren’t engaging and his story goes nowhere. I’ll admit I was disappointed, but not
particularly surprised given my track record with this author. Jane Yolen’s boring, half-hearted
contribution (“Gray”), though, is by far the greatest disappointment. Perhaps because it is the only poem in the
collection (and by far the shortest entry), it sticks out the most and fails to
satisfy utterly.
Some who have read Garth Nix’s dark Shade’s Children may be interested in his story, “You Won’t Feel a
Thing.” I, though, was left a little
cold. Partly, it’s been a long time
since I read Shade’s Children, but
perhaps more important is the story’s uselessness to the wider story hinted at
in Shade’s Children. This short story didn’t change anything in Shade’s Children, or even deepen my
understanding of that novel. (It is
perhaps a disappointment because he has accomplished what he failed to do in
this story elsewhere. “Over the Wall”
explores some of the complexity of the world created in his Abhorsen Trilogy, adding something new
and changing the characters just the right amount.)
This collection will be especially good for anyone searching
for literature after The Hunger Games. (Especially helpful is the “About the Contributors”
at the back of the book, which makes it easy to find what else an author has
written.) This collection may not be
very well-received by adult readers—the stories lack the moral complexity of
truly classic dystopia. That being said,
this is a good introduction to the vastness of the genre and is an excellent
book for anyone who collects dystopian books (guilty!). This is also a useful collection for anyone
interested in looking academically at the explosion of YA dystopia, because it
collects many of the important themes of modern teen dystopias and lacks the
annoying romantic melodrama of YA novels.
--Benvolia
