At this point
dystopian fiction has basically become so common that you might very well
expect that when the world does come to the end the people who will be the most
upset will be all of the writers because they’ll be out of jobs. I imagine
those who look at the cover of Let’s Call It A Doomsday will no doubt
think its more of the same and either ignore it as being too depressing or read
it and quickly become disappointed it’s not say, the next Hunger
Games or Divergent.
I didn’t believe
either because I recognized the author.
Katie Henry’s first novel was Heretics Anonymous, a hysterical
novel about an young atheist who is sent to a strict Catholic school and
becomes friends with a young girl who wants to become a priest. She introduces
him to a ban of outcasts, who among other things, including a Jewish gay man
and a pagan, who form a society intent on exposing the school’s hypocrisies.
The book is both hysterical and reminds me of a description of such movies as Life
of Brian and Dogma: it’s heretical, but it’s not blasphemous,
because many of the characters actually do have faith.
Let’s Call It A
Doomsday centers
on a teenage girl named Ellis Kimball. Ellis’s family are part of the Mormon
faith, and I know up front that may make you think the worst about Ellis
without meeting her. You don’t learn this until you’re into the second chapter
and by that point Henry has got you so devoted to Ellis that it’s no longer a
dealbreaker even if she was a strict fundamentalist. (She’s not, but I’ll get
to that.)
Ellis Kimball deals
with the kind of crippling anxiety that has invaded every aspect of her life. Every
time she even considers making a decision she’s hears a voice in her head
telling every conceivable way it could possibly go wrong. We first meet her in
the process of failing her driver’s test for the third time because she can’t
work up the will to even start the car.
Ellis tells us she’s
a Mormon and we’re surprised because by now we know she lived not only in
California, but Berkeley. A religion we consider among the most restrictive and
a ridiculous free-spirited communion would not seem to be two tastes that could
ever go together. And while Ellis does have most of her family in Utah, they
have found a church which Ellis acknowledges missionaries from Idaho and Utah
would ‘think we’re all a bunch of heathens with our oddball congregation and
our liberal-as-Mormons can get vibe’. Indeed there are several chapters spent
in Ellis’s church and Ellis clearly is a devout Mormon. She doesn’t swear, she
doesn’t pollute her body, and she loves being in church. She loves the ceremony
and everything about it – and she also loves it because in it, the voice in her
head becomes quieter, possibly nowhere else. As she puts it:
“I come here because
when we sing all is well, all is well. I believe it, if only for a
moment.”
If for no other
reason Doomsday is invaluable because it will give young readers insight
into a faith that almost none of them will either know about or dismiss as
restrictive. Ellis is fully aware of the flaws in the dogma of her church – she
elucidates quite a few of them in the narration – but you can sense reading it
that it gives her peace she hasn’t felt anywhere else in her life. And to be
very clear, until the narrative begins in earnest, her life would be considered
hell if Mormons truly believed in it.
The voice in Ellis’s
head is so present that it is basically its own character: it almost speaks
more than anyone else in the book. It has crippled Ellis to such an extent that
everyone in her family, especially her mother, has gotten frustrated to the
point that almost no one, save for her father, can speak easily to her. Ellis
and her mother have such an antagonistic relationship that she genuinely
believes her mother never loved her and it fills every interaction they have.
Ellis’s father clearly favors her but one can only imagine how exhausting it is
to constantly play the role of peacemaker. Ellis’s sister Em is usually silent
about her sister’s issues but its clear she’s beginning to run out of patience.
At one point in the novel she snaps and tells Ellis: “You make it worse! Why do
you always make it worse?”
Ellis has regular
meetings with a therapist named Martha who she’s been seeing for two years. She’s
been seeing a succession of therapists since the age of eight and as we’ve seen
she has spent all that time not talking about what her real problems. There are
only two things she likes talking about: etymology, the origin of every single
word in existence and all the possible ways the world could end.
Now you’d think her
obsession with the end of the world is what causes her anxiety but that’s not
entirely true. In a weird way Ellis is looking forward to the
apocalypse. She has spent so much of her life as a ‘prepper’, someone who is
prepared at a moment’s notice for the apocalypse, who has all the supplies that
you would need in case of every possible way the world could end, all of which
she has a ridiculous amount of knowledge of. It’s one of the few things she
actually proud of when she discusses it with us. And while you might think her
faith is part of the reason she’s certain the world will end, it’s actually not
the reason – that’s not revealed until the novel is nearly over, so I won’t go
into it here.
Ellis basically
thinks her therapy sessions are useless until while she’s leaving she meets a girl
her age named Hannah Marks in the waiting room. Hannah is wearing ragged
clothes and meditating and the moment she opens her eyes, she gives a beatific
smile and says: “You don’t know me. Not yet.” Ellis’ first reaction is that this
is how a serial killer show starts and then she’s intrigued. Since every other
interaction with another human being throws her into paralysis, this is
something she actually wants to follow up on.
Then when Ellis goes
to her school – a school so liberal she tells us the only rules seem to be ‘no
murder, no arson, no water guns’ – she goes to the library where she spends all
her time basically her entire lunch hour, hiding. Hannah is there and then gives
a cryptic invitation to lunch, followed by “We’re supposed to be friends.”
Ellis is so shocked by this she tells her exactly why they shouldn’t be friends
– her crippling anxiety – and Hannah seems supportive. Still Ellis might have
ignored it had she not mentioned her fear of the apocalypse and Hannah tells
her that her obsession is ‘awesome’. After more cryptic dialogue Hannah insists
their meeting is fate because she knows exactly how the world is going to end.
Reluctantly Ellis
decides to follow up on this and ends up following the bread crumbs to a group
of stoners in the yard. (This would be the circumstances for discipline in any
other school but Ellis’s; not only is it ignored but the teachers seem to be
doing more than the students.) Ellis meets three boys engaged in a deep
literary and philosophical discussion and finds that Hannah is meditating in
the tree. When they do the natural thing and offer her a joint, she is about to
tell them that she is a Mormon – but one of the boys beats them to it.
That boy is Talmage.
We will learn very quickly that he was part of Hannah’s church but was
eventually kicked out because of his bi-sexuality. Ellis’s family tells her
this and its clear how upset they are that even their most liberal of Mormon
churches can’t bend on this rule. Ellis can relate to this more than she wants
to admit. It’s clear as the novel begins – but not to Ellis herself – that she
is attracted to a female member of her congregation. A lesser author would use
this to say that the dogma of the Mormon church has restrained Ellis; Henry
makes it very clear that Ellis is worried about so many other things in her life
that dating anyone – never mind of which gender – has not even occurred to her.
Hannah tells Ellis
that she has had dreams that give ideas as to details of what will happen when
the world will end. They take on natures of a prophecy some of which Ellis can
recognize. Hannah tells her from the start that the person who can help them untangle
this is a man named Prophet Dan. She tells Ellis that he is homeless and lives
among the community and finding him will reveal all.
Ellis engages in this
quest with a fervor she hasn’t taken to anything in her life. As you can
expect, this becomes the kind of thing her family – especially her mother –
become inflamed about. There are constant arguments between the two of them in
the novel and Ellis spends it increasingly sure that her mother never loved her:
it is one of many things she is wrong about.
Ellis spends a lot of
time with Hannah’s friends, playing a wonderful game called ‘Five-Word Books’,
becoming closer to Tal in particular and spending far more time with Hannah
trying to warn people of the apocalypse. But the more she presses Hannah to take
action, the less Hannah actually wants to do anything about it. This
increasingly frustrates Ellis and eventually she learns more and more about
her. Hannah’s last girlfriend tells her that she is increasingly taking on the
lifestyle of a hermit, giving away her clothes and gifts to her friends and
increasingly isolating herself from anyone. The circle she’s with right now are
essentially the only people who still talk to her and even they are aware how
fractured she is.
Eventually we learn
the dark truth behind Hannah’s search for Prophet Dan. How it pertains the
narrative is a secret I will not reveal here but it shows that Hannah is just as
broken as Ellis is. What is critical it has made Hannah more cynical to the
point that she and Ellis eventually get into an argument as to why she wants to
tell so many people about the end of the world, and that she has every reason
to think it might not be the worst thing. Tal eventually asks her a variation
on the same question, asking her what her goals are. All Ellis can say is “to
survive.” Tal then tells her very
clearly that there’s a difference between survival and living and that Ellis
needs to find a better reason to survive. This leads to the breakthrough Ellis
needs to deal with when it comes to the voice in her head and why she is so
desperate to be prepared for the end of the world.
It's possible I’ve
made this book sound grim. So it might shock you to know that Doomsday is
by far one of the funniest books I’ve reviewed for this column. Much of the
humor actually comes in the way Ellis is determined to warn everybody about the
apocalypse, the way she takes to it cheerfully when it comes to ordering things
online and that she ultimately uses it as what amounts to a chat-up line to the
girl she’s been attracted to all this time. There’s also the understandable
fact that most of the people she and Ellis try to warn about naturally think
that they are crazy. And there’s a lot of hysteria about the school they
attend: Homecoming is called Rally Day, which Ellis describes as ‘Mardi Gras
for teenagers’ (What’s our rival?” one of Hannah’s friends asks. “Sobriety.”) At what would normally be the climatic portion
of the novel Ellis decides to warn the entire school and there is no one to
stop her when she walks into the unguarded PA room. (Ellis’s attempt makes her
the most hysterically funny Cassandra I’ve ever encountered.)
It's also,
refreshingly, one of the most devout books I’ve ever read, either for children
or adults. Ellis’s faith is one of the few things in her life she has no doubts
about. It has caused her immense pain in some areas (I won’t say how) but much
of that has more to do with her personal doctrine than anything in the LDS. She
is so convinced of the church’s sanctity that she’s actually horrified to learn
that some of the most sacred rituals of Mormonism are available on YouTube.
Every part of the church rituals – including the part involving testimony –
gives her a comfort that few things do. In a world where so many of the young consider
religion a hoax and in a region of the country where this is doubly so, there’s
something endearing about how Ellis and her family have not lost their faith in
God.
Stories that involve
both religious faith and the apocalypse generally seem to have only two types
of endings: one where the prophet is proven a false one and another where the rapture
happens. What I find most profound about Doomsday is that this novel
manages to find a middle ground. No the world doesn’t end at the end of the
novel, but neither is Hannah revealed to be a false prophet. Certain truths are
revealed that neither girl thought possible at the start of the novel and both
are proven simultaneously right and wrong about everything they believed.
The last line of the
novel includes the phrase: “There are so many ways a world can begin.” I won’t
reveal the context and I will say that the end of the novel does have ambiguity
to it. But is the nature of Ellis’s journey that for the first time in her
entire life she is seeing that ambiguity can be something to be hoped for and
not feared. That is the nature of both faith and grace, two virtues Ellis has
never lost along that journey.
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