(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)

Too Awful to Finish: An ongoing series

The Accused: The Pesthouse, by Jim Crace (Nan A. Talese / ISBN: 978-0-385-52075-1)

How far I got: 80 pages (first third), plus the ending

Crimes:
1) Nakedly and shamelessly stealing concepts and plot points from Tatayna Tolstaya's far superior The Slynx, only in an American setting this time and without any of the humor or witty wordplay of the original.

2) Positing a world where a nuclear holocaust for some reason causes the survivors to revert to a hokey "Little House on the Prairie" style vernacular and lifestyle. ("And then Ma, she done told us about the Magic Steel Silos in the East, where they done say that the Wise Short-Haired Ones once used to live, my Ma done told me..." Sheesh, Crace, enough.)

3) Creating the ultimate post-apocalyptic wet dream for snotty east-coast liberal intellectuals; a United States where everything west of the Mississippi has become a series of heathen backwards rural villages, where the only "civilization" left is found on the Atlantic Seaboard (of course), where the mouth-breathing ultra-religious Heartland swarm are causing their own destruction through superstition and a lack of education, and where ultimate salvation can only come by getting on a boat and sailing permanently to Europe (of course!).

4) Being liked by John Updike.

Verdict: Guilty!

Sentence: Six months detention in the Midwest, to perhaps give the author an inkling of how not to horribly offend us. And no, not at the Iowa Writers Workshop. ( )

They say that you should never judge a book by its cover, but never mention the seduction of a great title. I have been lured in by many a lovely title only to have the content be merely adequate, as if the only thing they had was the title and the rest of the story was just an afterthought. I almost did not read Pesthouse because of its non-cozy title. One would think that for a girl who loves apocalypse non-cozy is a must, but no. Beauty, art and well crafted prose are still a requirement.
The book told a simple story of two people who struggle to survive, struggle with love, and struggle with remaining true in a world where survival has altered what we as a people once were. It really is a tender tale with questions on what America used to be artfully mixed in. They marveled at destroyed cities, and pondered the use of unknown items. The characters were adults and had known only the destroyed world, yet no crazy, absurd mysticism had sprouted up and rules of polite society still existed. The bad is there, yet not the ugly and heavy handed evil that so many authors love to use when talking about how we as humans will decline. Our characters Margaret and Pigeon have their flaws, their vanities, their skills, and their stupidities, yet you fall in love with them as their mix of innocence and knowledge of the struggle to survive carries them across America.
The journey is a common theme in apocalypse novels. It has been done over and over, and I groaned just a bit when my characters set off to the unknown sea for a boat that would take them to a new America. Usually stories use this time to show just how destroyed the world is, and the characters almost always face more violence, more ugliness and more evil as they travel. The end of the journey is the end of the book, and we are all thankful that it is over. It is in a way a natural progression through a story, and it has been abused by many, many writers. Yet this story seemed valid to me. The agonies, struggles and beauties that were happened upon as they journeyed seemed to tell a truer tale then the oh so popular The Road to me. I felt as if I was following immigrants trying to make it to a new world. Their wonder and learning was not foolish, or overdone. The hardships faced were not raving lunatics or half mad cannibals.
I am glad that the harsh title did not turn me away. Inside I found a tale that answered the questions on what we could become if the big bad happened with optimism, bravery, a fair bit of luck, and a smidge of old fashioned romanticism. ( )

. Not sure how to classify this—I guess it would be sort of speculative, post-apocalyptic fiction of sorts. It’s the story, mainly, of two people—Margaret and Franklin—and seems to be set in the future, a future in which America as we know it has disappeared. We’re back to wood and bone implements, handmade homespun clothing, horse-drawn transportation (if we’re lucky!), no electricity and a rather bleak landscape in which people are leaving the country in droves—by ship. However, human seem to have changed little, and our age-old cruelty to one another, greediness, hunger for power and self-preservation instinct seems to have survived whatever catastrophe took place. And as always, small pockets of goodness and unselfishness will be found, too, if you look hard enough.

Franklin and his brother Jackson, young men in their twenties, set out eastward for the sea after their father’s death and the family farm fails, leaving their mother to hold down the fort and knowing they probably won’t see her again. Margaret, a single woman in her 30’s who developed a flux of some sort, is quarantined in a hut on the edge of town—Ferrytown—with her head and body hair shaved off, basically left to either die or survive by her family, in hopes that they aren’t already afflicted. Through a set of bizarre circumstances, Franklin and Margaret end up traveling together eastward, then become separated, and end up together again towards the end of the book.

Initially I found the book mesmerizing and couldn’t put it down, but later wanted more information about what had happened to land America in such a state, and that information really wasn’t forthcoming—just a lot of ‘teaser’ kind of clues. Franklin and Margaret’s stories became a bit stale after awhile, though it was a good book overall and I did come away with some things to think about and ponder. The ending was quite satisfying if a little predictable, and had the book been a bit less bogged down in the middle, my overall opinion would have been higher. ( )

In a post-apocalyptic America, two people set out for the coast in search of salvation...I always like to read at least two books like that every year!

In Crace's world, the apocalyptic event seemingly happened centuries ago. The earth is not destroyed, but human civilization, at least in America, has reverted to something older than medieval. There is no technology, no literacy, no rule of law, let alone a central government. Franklin, a tall, gentle man, sets out on a dangerous journey to the coast in hope of setting sail for Europe, where life is reportedly better. He meets a woman, Margaret who is recovering from a deadly plague, and they decide to travel together.

Crace's novel has much more action and much more color than The Road, if not the same depth. Crace does a superb job of creating his world. I really got immersed in the book, and I developed a great affection for Franklin and Margaret. ( )

Imagine "The Road"

several decades later.

Moving book of loss.