"Exodus": How to Write a Decent Feminist Apocalyptic YA

Finishing off my YA kick (going back to adult novels for a while), the critically acclaimed Exodus by Scottish writer Julie Bertagna. It doesn't have the breezy pacing of the Gone books--I would call it more "rushed"--but the story is as captivating and exciting.

Exodus has a very different feel, reading more like a mythical fantasy, with mentions of legends and destiny recurring throughout the story. But this is not a fantasy: the novel takes place in 2100, and great scientific advancements had been made well before the protagonist's time; even the elders' world was very different from ours in their youth. Instead, culture and technological progress has regressed in the wake of the encroaching seas--at least on the islands.

The apocalyptic scenario that Exodus explores is the rising seas as a result of global warming, taken to its extreme conclusion: by 2100, the seas have risen to such a height that most of the earth's land mass has been swallowed up, leaving small islands in the mountains and highlands. The people of Earth dealt with this problem by constructing sky-cities, but once they were built the rest of world was shut out.

The novel opens on Wing, the island home of our protagonist, Mara, where these cities are a mere rumor. But her explorations on her cyber wizz (a high-tech instrument that allows access to the weave, a highly advanced version of the Web) leads her to find evidence of these places, aided by a mysterious fox character. As the seas surge inland, Mara convinces her people to leave the island and try to get to the New World cities. But it's not all smooth sailing: the boats are separated right from the cast-off, and a great wall separates them from the city. They're forced to weigh anchor at a refugee camp, where conditions are squalid, and one of her friends dies from a sicknesss she contracted from eating a diseased fish (the water, of course, is filthy). That is the last straw for Mara--she decides to get through the wall and somehow enter the city. With the help of a wild child (called urchins, ratkins, or ratbashers) she makes it to the Netherworld, the islands beneath the City, and lives with the Treenester tribe for a time. While she is figuring out a way to break into the City, her friends are captured by the police, and she finally breaks in to rescue them and save her people.

There's a lot more to the story than can be explained in a brief synopsis, containing mounting tension and conflict, superb setting descriptions, and a cast of interesting characters. Exodus explores apocalyptic themes with deftness, depth, and honesty: the frailty of life, death, self-preservation instinct, and the relentless drive to do what's right. Mara is a likable but flawed character, determined to save others but unsure of herself every step of the way. She makes mistakes, and even kills a man in a fit of panic, regretting them immediately. Few other characters, however, get as much development or depth as she does, as many of them are only around for a few chapters or so, before getting separated from Mara in some way--except perhaps for Candleriggs and the Fox.

The different worlds of the refugee camp, the Netherworld, and the city of New Mungo are greatly distinguished, resembling the realms of our current world. Those residing in prosperous bubbles are often oblivious to the suffering of lesser people, no matter how close they are. The story also does a good job of bringing up such relevant themes without being too obvious or preachy about it: especially when one's story is inspired by the absurdly politically charged environmental issues.



So, in spite, of the mythical feel of the novel, the world still feels raw and real--even the virtual world of Noospace. I can clearly see this world and the ways that the different people live.

My primary criticism would be that the novel progressed too quickly. Just as we're getting used to one world, Mara up and goes to another one. Mara's family dies without much fanfare, and any mourning periods are covered in a single paragraph. I know that it's important to gloss over long periods of time in which nothing happens, but sometimes I didn't quite feel the impact of all the pain and suffering Mara endured as stated in the prose. The effort the author put into constructing a realistic scenario could also have been applied psychologically. But kids are resilient I guess?

The end, where a fleet of stolen ships are on their way to a new land, is also unsatisfying. We don't know if they make it there, then there is still the possibility that one day all land may be swallowed up by the sea. It turns out that Exodus has a sequel (with a third installment coming soon), so this can be partially forgiven. And it is true that in a time of precarity, their troubles are for from over. On the other hand, I'm not dying to read the next book. I wonder if a trilogy was planned? The ending dialogue was also super-cheesy: "Miracles" are what you're looking for? Good luck with that.

But in the end I found Exodus to be a quick, enjoyable story with good characters, strong themes, and top-notch world-building. A must for all readers of apocalyptic lit. 3.5 stars out of 5. Oppression Rating: 2. The female protagonist is strong and independent, and openly calls out the absence of female leaders in the city; while there are no characters of color (except maybe the urchins), this does take place in northern Britain; and there's no malevolent stereotypes (except maybe for shifty authority figures). This book had no huge problems in my opinion.