Borne

This is my first time reading a Vandermeer book, and I intentionally avoided the much better known and renowned Annihilation series. While I have definitely have some issues with the Vandermeer's being sort of the self-annointed arbiters of the 'new weird' as anthologists, essayists, and critical consumers and writers, I find absolutely no fault in his own writing.returnBorne felt very similar in style, content, tone, and themes to Atwood's 'Flood' series. Without other Vandermeer books under my belt I can't whether or not that was a departure or par for the course, either way I have trouble imagining it not being at least somewhat intentional. The strange, lived in, post-apocalyptic world we're dropped into crawls with life, and at first we understand even less than our first person protagonist (Rachel). Most of the main characters, and even the forces they face, endear themselves in various ways to us. Don't expect fleshed out world building, and even though there is room for it moving forward I don't know that its necessary or desirable. Sometimes, these moments in time are enough as they are.

This was my first experience with Jeff VanderMeer's novels. It was not an easy read, but not arduous, either. It's well-written, and I enjoyed his style. I admire the way he writes dialogue and describes surroundings. Instead of summarizing the book, which has been done so well already, I'd like to simply say that this story is told in the first person by a likeable narrator named Rachel, who is living with her friend and lover, Wick. The story is set sometime in the future, when civilization as we know it has collapsed due to ecological factors, but there is still a corporation wielding what little control that it can. Rachel is a scavenger, Wick deals drugs, but he's not the type of drug dealer we think of today (that's another story). The action starts when Rachel discovers something she eventually names Borne.


What is Borne--plant or animal? Could he be a person? What is a person? I saw shades of Philip Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? in some of Rachel's conversations with Borne--and not just there, but enough of that--no spoilers. And The Company's meddling with genetics and complete control reminded me a bit of Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake.


This is a dark novel, but hang in there... there will be an exciting climax, and an ending that I found to be realistic and optimistic. After Rachel's story ends, there is an interesting and humorous section at the end--nice touch!


This was an intriguing read, and I'm happy for the experience.

Oh this was great. Yes, there is a giant bear. Half the rest of the cast is stranger than the bear. It's a wild story that would probably do okay on its own.

But the story is entirely eclipsed by the narration. Everything is told from the point of view of Rachel, a woman of color, an orphaned refugee. This point of view is very different from the standard. Her goal is not to uncover the plot. Her goal is not to solve the challenge ahead. She is so different from what I am used to from other fiction, and yet she is more human for it. So many unexpected decisions that I would probably make the same way. (If I ever faced the same, rather unlikely, circumstances.)

Oh and the writing. A lot of the book is about people saying different things than they think and yet understanding each other on some level. This is what is going on in real life all the time! And I see it so rarely in books. I think it is because it is super hard to pull off. It is a total success here though. Maybe because you get to know Rachel so well through the narration that reveals much of her thoughts.

All this is presented in fantastic prose. It is not just cleverly written to make for more interesting reading. Just look at these sentences and you will see how the elaborate phrasing packs on some extra layers of expression:

That was the moment I knew I’d decided to trade my safety for something else. That was the moment. And no matter what happened next, I had crossed over into another place, and the question wasn’t who I should trust but who should trust me.

Wick kept too many secrets. It was getting too difficult—occupying the same space but traveling through separate universes of need, of want.

The worst thing was that I could not escape any of the passing seconds. Every moment came to me clear and distinct, and no one moment stood for anything but itself.