280 pages
Publisher: Tinder Press
Blurb
LAST ONES LEFT ALIVE is the story of Orpen, a young woman who
must walk on foot across a ravaged Ireland in the desperate hope of saving
herself, and her guardian Maeve, from the zombie-like menace known as the
skrake. Sarah Davis-Goff's strikingly original debut will appeal to readers of
dystopian literary fiction such as STATION 11 or THE END WE START FROM.
Watch your six. Beware tall buildings. Always
have your knives.
Growing up on a tiny island off the coast of a
post-apocalyptic Ireland, Orpen's life has revolved around physical training and
necessity. After Mam died, it's the only way she and her guardian Maeve have
survived the ravenous skrake (zombies) who roam the wilds of the ravaged
countryside, looking for prey.
When Maeve is bitten and infected, Orpen knows
what she should do - sink a knife into her eye socket, and quickly. Instead,
she tries to save Maeve, and following rumours of a distant city on the
mainland, guarded by fierce banshees, she sets off, pushing Maeve in a
wheelbarrow and accompanied by their little dog, Danger. It is a journey on
which Orpen will need to fight repeatedly for her life, drawing on all of her
training and instincts. In the course of it, she will learn more about the
Emergency that destroyed her homeland, and the mythical Phoenix City - and
discover a starting truth about her own identity.
Review
I finished The Last Ones Left Alive yesterday, and found I had
to let it sit for a while before trying to write a review. I have many, many,
thinky thoughts, but not all of them can be shared because they would spoil the
story for those who haven’t read it yet. So, this review comes with a warning:
it will at times be vague and I don’t rule out that it may leave you scratching
your head ones or twice.
But, before I get to the confusing part, let me focus on the
story as a whole.
As the blurb illustrates, The Last Ones Left Alive is set in
a post-apocalyptic Ireland where, as far is Orpen is concerned while she’d
growing up, she, her mother Muireann and Maeve might as well be the only ones
still living. On their small island there are no other people, and while there
are reminders of the world as it used to be, the disheveled state those are in,
indicates that the island has been mostly uninhabited for quite some time. Yet,
despite being on their own, Orpen spends her years growing up preparing for the
worst as she trains to gain strength, learn how to fight and use her knives.
When the story starts, we find Orpen traveling through the
deserted Irish countryside, travelling to the east where she hopes to find Phoenix
City, a place she knows very little about except that it exists or used to
exist and that there might be other survivors there. Orpen pushes a wheelbarrow
which holds necessities as well as Maeve, who is obviously not well and
potentially a danger to Orpen. The world Orpen finds herself in is filled with expected
and unknown threats, and her journey is often tense, and danger-filled. But,
despite Orpen’s desperate situation, she also discovers beauty in the
countryside, and a form of joy as her horizons expand.
It was fascinating to watch Orpen as she adjusts her ideas
and world view according to what she encounters. All she has to go by is the
little Maeve and her mother have been willing, mostly reluctantly, to share with
her in the past, but it has formed her expectations. When she meets three
other, uninfected, humans, her perceptions slowly change. Especially since she
no longer has Maeve with her to colour her views.
There are several deeply emotional scenes in this book which,
given the setting, was only to be expected. What I really admired is how the
author managed to portray Orpen dealing with devasting losses and shocking new
experiences without falling apart. It was a necessary and brilliantly executed portrayal
of Orpen coming to terms with what’s happening, without leaving her so broken
that she’s no longer able to keep herself alive.
I saw some review describing this as a ‘fiercely feminist
novel’, but I’m not sure I can fully support that assessment. Sure, Maeve,
Orpen, and her mum are strong, self-sufficient women, well able to take care of
themselves. But the way Maeve opposes Phoenix City, to the point where she
won’t tell Orpen anything about it or its location, indicates that this place,
reportedly run by women, isn’t necessarily a fairer, safer, or more equal
society than the world as ruled by men is/was. The glimpses we get later in the
story, after Orpen runs into Cillian, Nic, and Aodh, indicate all is not
harmonious in Phoenix City. A further encounter, near the end of the story,
only enhanced that impression for me.
The story is told in alternating chapters, one taking place
in the ‘present’ with Orpen on her fateful journey, and the next describing
events that led up to her making that long track. It was executed really well. The current storyline
and the ‘flashbacks’ tie in closely, and illustrate each other, but… Most (if
not all) chapters end on a mini cliffhanger. Don’t get me wrong, this is a recognized
and popular fiction device. It is just that while reading this book I
discovered that ending a chapter on a cliffhanger doesn’t work for me unless
the next chapter immediately picks up the thread again. A chapter in between
the conflict and the conclusion makes it easier for me to put a book down, to walk
away. Which almost certainly isn’t what’s meant to happen, so maybe that’s just
me being quirky.
The story left me with a few questions. Unfortunately, I can’t
voice them here without resorting to spoilers. I just hope that the promised
sequel will provide the answers I need. As a general statement, this
post-apocalyptic world could do with a bit of building, more background as to
how it ended up in the state we find it in, and what happened in the various other
parts of the world/Ireland.
The synopsis ends with the following sentence:
“In the course of it,
she will learn more about the Emergency that destroyed her homeland, and the
mythical Phoenix City - and discover a starting truth about her own identity.”
As far as I’m concerned, that promise wasn’t (completely)
fulfilled. I’m still not very clear at all about ‘the Emergency’, have only
seen (not very enticing) hints about Phoenix City, and so far, only have
suspicions about Orpen’s own identity. What is more, while I have my suspicions
about Maeve and Muireann’s back story, I would love to see it confirmed (or refuted)
and expanded.
I will always rejoice when I read a story in which a same-sex
relationship just is, without the need for explanation, excuses, or a special ‘coming-out-like’
reveal. Maeve and Muireann’s relationship is just that, an established fact, right
from the start. And while that lifted my heart, I don’t think it could have
been written differently; not in this book. Since we read the story from Orpen’s
perspective, and she has never known other people besides her mother and Maeve,
there is no reason why the relationship would be remarkable. Prejudice is
something we need to be taught (as Orpen’s distrust of men shows), not
something we’re born with. Which doesn’t negate the fact that Orpen’s automatic
acceptance of her mother’s relationship is a bright spark in an otherwise
rather dark story.
I’m suddenly afraid the above makes it sound as if I didn’t
like this book, which is not the impression I want to leave you with. In fact, The
Last Ones Left Alive is fascinating, nail-biting, compulsive read. The
story is well plotted and Orpen’s voice is clear, showing us exactly who she is
and how she changes as life throws challenges her way. The book reminded me a
bit of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, although it is decidedly less bleak. On one or
two occasions I also flashed back to several of Margaret Atwood’s books. None
of those (possibly perceived) similarities take anything away from The Last
Ones Left Behind, though. This is an original, vividly written, tale
featuring strong, proud, and independent women without ever falling into the
trap of making them look too good to be true.
I listened to the first half of this book and read the last
part. I made the change because I ran out of time, not because there’s anything
wrong with the audio. Far from it. The audio was amazing. I feel the narrator captured
Orpen’s voice brilliantly and voiced her various emotions with clarity. In
fact, the narration was at times so tense that I now can confidently advice
against listening to this story while talking a walk along mostly deserted
Irish countryside roads. 😊
LOL. Before I started writing this review, I was curious
about the sequel. Now that I’m done, I can’t wait to get my hands on it. I’m
curious both because I want answers to my remaining questions and because I can’t
wait to see what will happen next. Release date anyone?