The Children of Men by P.D. James
It’s 2021 in England, and the human race has lost its ability to breed. Depression, hysteria and suicide is a part of daily life, as is the degrading and pointless ritual of fertility testing. The elderly are deemed a burden and are frequently killed en masse in the Quietus, sanctioned mass-drownings that often take place in the early hours of the morning so as not to draw too much attention. The last generation to be born, the Omegas, terrorize the country like psychotic spoilt brats, while foreign Omega workers (Sojourners) are treated like slaves.
The country is run by a self-appointed Warden called Xan, who maintains a strict hold on the fast collapsing society while desperately searching for a way to rectify the widespread fertility problem. His cousin Theo, a university professor who once worked closely alongside him, has now fallen into the same pattern as everyone else in the country; slowly and lethargically working towards the end of his life with no passion or care for humanity. He knows the country is in a terrible state yet fails to see how anything can be done to repair it.
But there are others who think differently. Theo is contacted by the Five Fishes, a religious terrorist group wishing to bring an end to the endless fertility testing and cruelty towards the Sojourners. They think that Theo has some influence with Xan as they are cousins, despite the fact that they have not communicated in years. They attempt to enlist his help in their campaign and he is reluctantly drawn into it.
Although reluctant Theo does back their cause, but he is put off by their clumsiness and lack of organisation. Will their misdirected passion be enough to persuade him to contact Xan? Will that impact on society in any way, or is there really no hope left for the dying race?
I absolutely fell in love with this book. It shows the spitefulness of man and the painful and selfish truth behind western society, motioning strongly toward the benefits of living closely with nature rather than maintaining pointless traditions for the sake of complacency and security.
I was captivated by Theo. This flawed, self-loathing man with a severe messiah complex acts condescendingly toward his fellow man yet feels jealous of their simplistic desires. He is incredibly intelligent yet his self-imposed isolation has made him almost childish emotionally; he is sulky, selfish and incredibly cold but is also a romantic and an idealist, perhaps feeling bitter than his life does not live up to the moments in history and fictions that he loves and obsesses over.
Xan in comparison seems somewhat less villainous as he is motivated, calculated, level-headed and astute. He seems to have a better grasp on reality and the workings of man, but it soon comes to light that for all of his charisma he lacks something that Theo has in abundance: guilt.
This novel really plays on the idea of transcendence between childhood and adulthood and the psychological ramifications if there is no renewal of this cycle. Change and progression is a huge theme in this novel, demonstrating how much of a focal point development is on our lives.
An obvious theme in the novel is of course the fear and devastation caused by infertility, but what I found most interesting is that within this there are also strong themes of pedophobia. Theo particularly shows little inclination toward parenthood and displays few paternal instincts, instead shutting himself off from the idea and pitying those who allow it to effect them so severely. He seems to be separate from everyone else, bored by infertility instead of fixating on it.
What I was most shocked about when reading this novel is how much it made me appreciate the film adaptation (yes, I saw the film before the novel. Shame on me). Alfonso Cuarón’s interpretation is quite different to the novel, respectfully playing on its themes but without emulating them word for word. The film was clearly made by someone who closely read, appreciated and adored the novel.
The rich complexities of this book really took a hold of me, to the point where the words are still going through my head days after I finished it. P.D. James’ unapologetic and straightforward style of writing forces the reader to sip slowly on every single description while simultaneously gulping chapter after chapter. This novel will prove timeless as it dwells unreservedly on the cruelty of nature and plays on one of humanity’s worst imagined fears. I’m just kicking myself that it took the death of the author for me to start reading it…
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