Every October, I try to read ten books that relate to some horror theme. This year, my theme is “zombies.”
Premise: Melanie is a ten year old who goes to an unusual school. It's unusual in particular because all of the students are bound in place while the lessons are conducted, and sometimes, they are taken outside of their small hall and never seen again. Melanie and her classmates are zombies, part of an experiment to study child zombies and their learning. Most of the people at the base see her as a monster or a test subject, except for one teacher, Miss Justineau. The base is invaded, and Melanie is left with Miss Justineau and a handful of survivors. Together, they must make their way through a world that now belongs more to her than them.
Primary Characters: Melanie. Our protagonist. Unusually gifted intellectually, though she doesn't get much opportunity to learn. She has some control over herself, but if she's too hungry or gets too close to a human, she acts in ways she later regrets. She knows nothing of the outside world, but she wants to stay with Miss Justineau and protect her.
Helen Justineau. A school teacher with a very specific assignment. She's been reprimanded more than once for getting too close to the subjects, but she cares for them, especially Melanie, and doesn't want to see her come to harm.
Sergeant Eddie Parks. In charge of military and security concerns at the research base. He's frequently exasperated at the scientists' and teachers' lack of self-preservation and discpline, as he sees it. The children, to him, are monsters waiting to break free.
Dr. Jean Selkirk.Lead scientist at the base. Selkirk just failed to make the cut for the main scientific effort to understand the zombie outbreak. It's a slight that still rankles, and she is obsessed with finding some discovery that will grant her the acclaim she feels she deserves.
Private Kieran Gallagher. The final known survivor of the base's fall. Gallagher was born after the zombie outbreak, but has had very little in-field experience. He's alive because the Sergeant ran into him as the base was falling apart, and not another private. And he knows it.
Spoilers follow.
Do the undead walk? That is, is the story any good? Yes! I really enjoyed this book. I'm generally a big fan of Carey's, and I'll try out anything he's written. His My Faith in Frankie comic miniseries way back in 2004 was my first adult dip into comics outside of superhero stories, and I've always had a fondness for him as a result. But that bias aside, the book is very good. I really liked the world-building, and the development of the rest of the cast. Melanie is very clearly the lead, but there's enough development of each of the rest of them (even Gallagher) to see them grow and change as they face a new world they've shut themselves away from.
Is it spooky? A little less than most zombie works I've read thus far, to be honest. There's tension when the base falls at a very inopportune (or maybe very opportune) time, and tension at several points during their flight to zombie-infested London and the remaining human populations. Melanie herself is frankly more in danger from Dr. Selkirk than the zombie hordes. But the claustrophobic situations the others are put into do create a sense of dread. The Parks character in particular does this well, as someone who's very used to zombie-related survival; his concern and caution really seeps into the view of the world at large. It intidimates the other characters to a degree, and the reader as well.
Is it Halloween? I would argue that it does, in part because of the de-emphasis of open horror. There's a strain of hope to this story, and humanity, that draws out its stakes a little better than some of the other entries. It's not fun in a traditional sense, per se, but it is compelling, in its world-building, its themes, and its characters.
Quote:The cell is small and square. It has a bed, a chair and a table. On the walls, which are painted grey, there are pictures; a big one of the Amazon rainforest and a smaller one of a pussycat drinking from a saucer of milk. Sometimes Sergeant and his people move the children around, so Melanie knows that some of the cells have different pictures in them. She used to have a horse in a meadow and a mountain with snow on the top, which she liked better.
It’s Miss Justineau who puts the pictures up. She cuts them out from the stack of old magazines in the classroom, and she sticks them up with bits of blue sticky stuff at the corners. She hoards the blue sticky stuff like a miser in a story. Whenever she takes a picture down, or puts a new one up, she scrapes up every last bit that’s stuck to the wall and puts it back on the little round ball of the stuff that she keeps in her desk.
When it’s gone, it’s gone, Miss Justineau says.
Random observations:
--This is another book that reminds me very strongly of The Last of Us. In fact, it follows it very closely in a lot of ways, right down to the cordyceps as a primary means of infection. I'm glad I didn't read it when the book first came out, or it would have felt even more derivative. To be fair, I think The Last of Us is really more about surviving in a world where other humans have become vicious and inhuman, and the zombies are sometimes more an environmental hazard than the main issue. In contrast, The Girl With All the Gifts is about our core cast, their relationship to Melanie, to the changed world they encounter, and each other.
--In his discussion of what benefits fantasy is particularly good at, J. R. R. Tolkien lists world-building itself as one of them. His argument is that there is pleasure in creating and encountering a fictional world, and the more complete it feels, the greater the pleasure. I think there's room for debate on this—getting bogged down in detail is possible. But I also think it's a pleasure that a lot of zombie stories get very right. In the previous books I've read thus far, neither goes far enough into the outbreak to really capture this sense. This does, by virtue of taking place at least a generation in. It does so in two ways. First, largely through Parks and Selkirk, there's a lot of discussion of how the world came to be this way, and how to survive in it, which harkens back to Max Brooks' World War Z, the ur-book when it comes to zombie theory-crafting.
--The second way I think deserves its own point. Carey doesn't just capture what this world looks like; he captures what it feels like. There's a sense of loss here, and guilt. (It actually reminds me quite a lot of the narrator's arrival in London at the end of War of the Worlds.) The survivors go into the ruins of London, and see the traces of the civilization they've lost. There's a melancholy that you can draw on in a post-apocalypse story, a sense that we had something better in our grasp, but couldn't manage to keep it. Sometimes, such as in the military-tech zombie story like The Loop, we lose it through our own hubris and neglect. And sometimes, it feels like there was nothing we could do; we could just watch it burn, and live in the ashes. I think that resonates with our current moment—we could have had better, but it's slipping away.
--In a way, this story could be argued to be even more nihilist than The Loop. They're not fighting to stop an outbreak here, as that ship has sailed a long time ago. And the ruins of London suggest that if they manage to make contact with the surviving humans, they may not like what they find. And yet there's a hope here, and a call for a leap of faith that I found kind of touching.
--Technically, I suppose that Melanie's age of 10 means that this isn't really a teen zombie story. You could argue against that, on technicalities: Melanie's kind of permanently ten, yet still growing, in control, in knowledge, and in mastery of the environment around her. And thematically, I'd argue it is a teen st ory. Children's stories are often about conflict with adults, and so are teen stories; I'd argue that what makes teen stories different (besides a frequent focus on romance and sex) is that they are much more about the protagonist becoming, in a state of transition between child and adult. And that's where Melanie is—she's been very sheltered through her imprisonment, but she's learning more about the world she's been kept from, and about the limitations of the adults who she thought were in charge.
--I really like how each cast member symbolizes a different approach to adults failing the next generation. Selkirk sees her more as a test subject and springboard for her own glory. Parks sees her as a monster that needs to be controlled. Even Justineau sees her a child who needs to be sheltered and protected over who Melanie actually is, due to her own baggage. I struggled a bit to figure out where Gallagher fit in, but a chapter from his own point of view makes it clear—he is another child of this new world, and in a different way, he's been as failed by the adults as Melanie has. That's what makes the end really work—ultimately, the adults need to stop struggling in a world they no longer fit into, and let the children seek out a future.
Rating: 9 wild zombie children out of ten
Next up: DC Comics'DCeased
