Review | The City of Mirrors (The Passage #3), Justin Cronin

26891429I loved Justin Cronin’s The Passage when I first read it years ago, so I was thrilled to receive a Binge Box from Penguin Random House Canada a few months ago with the rest of the trilogy, including an advance reading copy of the conclusion, The City of Mirrors

I admit I was a bit apprehensive at first, since I re-read The Passage to remind myself of the story, and found it didn’t quite hold up to my memory of the experience. Whereas I loved it so much at first read that I lugged the almost-1000-page tome around on the subway to and from work, I found the second read interesting but not quite as gripping anymore. It may have been my mood or just the lack of novelty the second time around, but for whatever reason, I was afraid the magic was gone.

This fear intensified with the second book, The Twelvewhich to be honest, I struggled to finish. I think my main problem with it is that much of it felt very much like the same events of The Passage, only from a different perspective. I already knew how that turned out, and I was impatient to get on with the story of Peter, Sara, Amy and Alicia.

But then I read The City of Mirrors and my fears were allayed. Here was some of that old magic I remember from my first read of The Passage. The Twelve have been destroyed, and human survivors are beginning to settle down and rebuild their lives. Peter, wanting nothing more than a quiet life after years of battling virals, is pulled back into a leadership role by the president, who wants his charisma and respected status in the community to help her rally the survivors into a working, sustainable society. Unfortunately, they’re wrong to think the threat is over. The ultimate viral Zero is still undead and well, and he wants to use Alicia, now a viral/human hybrid, to hunt down and destroy Amy, the one person who can defeat him.

City of Mirrors recaptures the wonderful blend of action-packed scenes and quiet moments of despair that had made Passage so compelling. The cast of characters has grown so large that I honestly couldn’t keep track of who all of them were anymore, but the sense of tragedy when the settlement is attacked still had an emotional impact. There’s a moment where children and their mothers are ordered to hide in a particular building while other able bodied adults are conscripted to fight, and Sara and her colleagues are armed with guns to protect them. When Sara points out that the guns won’t be much use against virals, she is told that they aren’t for virals but rather humans who would stop at nothing to find refuge. The moment is both chilling and tragic, a fraught reminder of how far we would go to survive, and how much those in charge must do to keep us from surviving at the cost of those more vulnerable.

I also enjoyed the love story between Peter’s son and a deaf woman raised by Sara. I love how he taught himself to sign for her, and I especially love the scene where she tells him she was going to introduce herself to the woman next door. He asks if he should go with her to interpret, particularly since the woman’s husband earlier had been a bit uncomfortable communicating with a deaf person, and she waves him off, signing that women will have no problem communicating with each other. I love that confidence, and I love that it turns out to be true and that the women do strike a friendship. It’s a moment of humanity and connection in the eye of the storm so to speak, as no one is yet aware of the impending war, and it made the characters real for me just like a casual conversation about a classic children’s book made the characters real for me in The Passage.

I’m not sure how I feel about the ending other than it feels fitting. The climax was messy and spiritual and brought to fore the full powers of Amy and Alicia and Peter all working together. Not all of the characters got quite the happily ever after I was hoping for, which quite frankly I think they deserved after almost 3000 pages of battling virals, but that’s pretty much in line with the rest of the series. Cronin gave Amy almost godlike powers, yet throughout the series has resister deux ex machina easy solutions. The author has never held back from leaving beloved characters scarred by their experiences, and true to form, the ending is bittersweet.

I do like that Cronin gives us an epilogue — a glimpse far into humanity’s future as evidenced by the reports and lectures scattered throughout the series, where the stories of Peter and Amy and their friends are now part of history or possibly even of mythology. No one is sure of how real these stories are anymore, and scholars speak of their significance much like contemporary scholars speak of religious texts and ancient mythology. An upcoming landmark event sparks a return to the past, and what these characters in the future discover provides the bittersweet taste that Cronin leaves us with.

I don’t know if I’ll read these books again, as I think much of their magic is in the initial experience, but I’m glad I read them. And certainly, if you’ve read and enjoyed The Passage, it’s worth reading through to make it to the end.

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Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada for an advance reading copy of City of Mirrors and for the rest of the awesome Binge Box. It may have taken me longer than a long weekend to binge through the entire library, but I thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated the treat.

TV Preview and Giveaway | Childhood’s End Premieres on Showcase Canada Dec 14 at 8 pm

Childhood's End - Season 1

CHILDHOOD’S END — “The Overlords” Episode 101 — Pictured: Mike Vogel as Ricky Stormgren — (Photo by: Ben King/Syfy)

Calling all fellow Canadian science fiction geeks! Arthur C. Clarke’s classic novel Childhood’s End is being adapted for the small screen and will premiere next week on Showcase! The three-night, six-hour miniseries follows the peaceful invasion of the mysterious Overlords, which begins decades of apparent utopia. The Overlords eliminate poverty, war and sickness from the world… but at what cost?

I’m also geeking out over the cast for this show. Charles Dance (Tywin Lannister from Game of Thrones!) is the ambassador of the Overlords, and likely about as trustworthy here as he was in Westeros. Julian McMahon is the founder of a research station, and while he’s probably best known for Nip/Tuck, I will forever know him as Phoebe Halliwell’s demonic boyfriend Cole in Charmed. Yael Stone, who is the utterly lovable but creepily stalkerish Lorna Morello in Orange is the New Black, plays a woman determined to find out the truth about the Overlords. Finally, Colm Meaney is in the cast as well, playing someone named Wainwright, and his name is certainly familiar to many Trekkies as Chief O’Brien.

Childhood’s End will be broadcast on Showcase in a three-night, six-hour miniseries event on December 14, 15 and 16 from 8 – 10 pm ET / 9 – 11 pm PT. 

GIVEAWAY (Canada only)

Childhood'sEndPrize

Want to win a Childhood’s End prize pack from Showcase?

Enter here for a chance to win!

Contest runs from midnight on Dec 10 – midnight on Dec 14 and is open to Canada only. Good luck!

TRAILER

Review | The Heart Goes Last, Margaret Atwood

atwoodIn a dystopian world, humans are offered a chance at escape: join a social experiment and live in a self-contained community where you alternate months between a suburban lifestyle and a prison. The goal for the experiment is a solution to overcrowding in prisons, as one character terms it, timeshare taken to the extreme.

For couple Stan and Charmaine, it beats the hell out of their current existence sleeping in their car and fighting off hoodlums every night. Stan is somewhat suspicious, but the lure of clean towels and a fresh bed proves too much temptation, and they both apply.

The Heart Goes Last is an Atwood novel, and as anyone familiar with the Oryx and Crake trilogy or The Handmaid’s Tale can attest, ay time a society is presented as utopian, you can pretty much guarantee that it’s not. In this case, the corporation that runs the experiment has its eye on profits — familiar Atwood tropes like headless chickens bred for meat make an appearance, and the question of what happens to residents after they pass away raises a chill, given the community’s devotion to waste reduction.

The title refers to the process of dying, the last vestige of humanity right before the moment of death. And as the story progresses, the title takes on much more resonance, and the struggle to hold on to one’s humanity becomes ever more problematized.

The novel begins as with a fairly slick sci-fi tone — we have the seemingly perfect world, the heightened technology and a philosophy taken to the extreme. Throughout, we get hints that the world isn’t quite so perfect — e.g. the chilling reality of Charmaine’s job, prisoners having sex with chickens — but the core conflict is fairly typical sci-fi. It begins with Charmaine having a secret affair with the man who lives in their house while she and Stan are in prison, and launches off into Stan being utterly enmeshed in the reality behind the system’s shiny veneer.

My main concern with this novel is that Atwood appears to squish so many of her ideas in, yet their impact rarely goes beyond a brief appearance. One example is the aforementioned headless chickens which were literally a passing reference. Another is the development of sex droids, which played a key role in the plot, but barely dealt with the problematic nature of their development.

Rather, the sex droids seemed a mere stepping stone toward what I found a truly chilling development (I’ll avoid spoilers here) — and again, this further development did play a part in the plot, but Atwood barely grazes the surface of how problematic this is. There is a great snippet of a conversation where one character challenges the idea that “nobody is exploited,” and another corrects him, “I said nobody feels exploited. Different thing.” There’s so much to unpack within that statement, vis a vis some of the things happening within this world, but then it’s barely touched upon till the very end. Unlike, for example, The Handmaid’s Tale, where there are a couple of key driving forces behind the plot, the story in The Heart Goes Last seems to want to go off into multiple directions, without quite settling on one.

The most powerful section of the book for me comes at the very end. Without giving too much away, it involves a procedure and the happiness of a couple of characters. The final pages in particular call into question what happiness entails, and what love really means. It brings up contemporary notions of romantic love, and contrasts it with the sedateness of a long-term relationship, and calls into question under what circumstances we can find happiness within both. These themes were discussed in various ways throughout the novel, but I felt a lot of it got lost underneath the discussions around the prison system and sex droids. There were certainly moments of potency (a revelation about the knitted blue teddy bears is particularly discomfiting), but not quite enough cohesion among them all.

Still, the book made me think, and the ending in particular was problematic in a good way and made me long for more. It’s not my favourite Atwood, but it’s a highly readable tale with Atwood’s trademark wit and quite a few tidbits for thought.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.