| The Rapture | |||||
| Liz Jensen | |||||
| Bond Street Books, Doubleday Canada, 296 pages | |||||
| A review by Paul Kincaid
What if that person were a psychotic teenager who had murdered her mother and whose predictions came as a
side effect of Electro-Convulsive Therapy?
And what if you were psychically damaged yourself, confined to a wheelchair as a result of a road accident that killed
your lover and your unborn baby?
The situation presented in Liz Jensen's latest novel situates it squarely in classic thriller territory. But what she
does with the novel elevates it far above the conventional, while sacrificing none of the convolutions and dramas we might
expect of the form. And it manages to be, along the way, one of the finest novels of global warming I've encountered so far.
It's a couple of years after the London Olympics of 2012, the Copenhagen climate talks have failed (a bold prediction
for a novel published only just before the talks began) and climate change is beginning to have a noticeable effect. In
southern England we're in the middle of a summer that never seems to end, an unbroken heat wave, everyone of necessity
wearing sunglasses whenever they venture outside. But no one really bothers about the weather, we've always got too
many other things to think about.
For Gabrielle Fox, it is starting her new job as an art therapist at a secure psychiatric hospital for young people. She
is, perhaps, going back to work too early after a devastating car crash about which she still feels guilt. Her sense of
dislocation from other people, her wheelchair making her ugly and an outcast, is hardly good preparation for the
sensitivity of her new job, but she needs to lose herself in something. And the person she is replacing at short notice
seems to have had a breakdown of her own, so the institution can't be too choosy. One of the things that is so impressive
about Jensen's writing is how she keeps you constantly aware of such background matters as the weather and the daily
helplessness and inconvenience of being in a wheelchair without ever needing to stop the action and spell it all
out. Without once being patronising, Jensen makes us feel that this is what it is like to be disabled, and she does
it by making Gabrielle prickly, self-centred, foolish at times and not always a nice person to know.
Gabrielle's main problem at the hospital is the teenage killer, Bethany Krall, who stabbed her mother to death with
a screwdriver and who still shows neither remorse nor concern. The situation is not helped by the fact that her father
is a famous charismatic preacher, a leader of the new Faith Wave that has gained massive prominence since the effects
of climate change began to be widely felt, and he has not only publicly condemned her as being possessed by the devil,
but has also refused to have any contact with his daughter. Bethany is crude, manipulative, and quick to identify
weaknesses in those around her; she calls Gabrielle 'Wheels' and recognises the therapist's sexual insecurities as a
means of exerting control. Gabrielle and Bethany are both vividly drawn characters and the sparring and tensions
between the two that are at the heart of the novel are visceral, absolutely convincing and totally enthralling from
first page to last.
Bethany is addicted to ECT, which does indeed seem to have a therapeutic effect on her, but more tellingly the shocks
seem to generate visions, detailed scenes of devastation that she calls Bethanyland. She records these scenes in a
notebook, and as she works with Bethany, Gabrielle comes to realise that these describe, in extraordinary detail, the
date and nature of natural disasters. Then, emerging from one session of ECT, Bethany announces a hurricane and a
falling Christ in a few days time. On the appointed day, Gabrielle wakes to news of a rare southern hemisphere
hurricane that has struck Rio de Janeiro and amid much devastation has toppled to iconic statue of Christ that stood
above the city. Gabrielle realises that she must tell someone about Bethany's predictions, but who will she tell
and how will she be believed, after all, her predecessor's breakdown was apparently associated
with coming to believe Bethany.
At this point, Gabrielle rather conveniently meets hunky physicist Frazer Melville, who coincidentally falls in love
with her. It has to be said that the on-again, off-again romance between Gabrielle and Frazer is a necessary part of
the novel, providing insights into Gabrielle's self-image and furnishing vital lubrication for the plot mechanics, but
it is the least satisfying part of the book. This is largely because the wedge that inevitably comes between them, so
adding an extra layer of tension during the most dramatic part of the plot, could have been resolved at any point
and, when it is resolved, is done so quickly and easily that the whole thing feels like what it is, a plot
contrivance, rather than a natural development in their relationship. But then, Frazer, like practically every
other character we meet, is less solidly drawn than the commanding figures of Gabrielle and, particularly, Bethany.
To this point, Jensen's writing has been prone to digressions which tell us an awful lot of background while slowly
building our knowledge of the immediate situation. But now the digressions stop, without sacrificing its vivid
sense of place and character the writing becomes more focussed, the pace of the plot steps up. It is an object
lesson in how to marry the novel of character and the novel of plot, while fully satisfying the demands of both
types of novel. There are more predictions, an earthquake in Istanbul, a volcano in Samoa, that furnish ever more
reason to trust Bethany's visions, especially as she is now predicting the big one, a line slicing into the sea bed
that will bring about the post-apocalyptic devastation of Bethanyland. But while Frazer is trying, at first
unsuccessfully, to interest other scientists in the threat, Bethany attacks another inmate and tries to harm
herself. She is to be transferred to another institution where she will simply be drugged and abandoned, so Frazer
and Gabrielle have to engineer her escape, becoming fugitives just as the threat becomes imminent. There is one
startling and powerful scene when Gabrielle has to perform ad hoc ECT on Bethany in order to stimulate the vision
they need for the last piece of the puzzle.
By now a very small group of scientists, including the object of Gabrielle's jealousy, have come to believe that
Frazer is not mad, and are working to identify the trigger for this final devastation and also to get a warning
out to the public. But in the heated atmosphere of the time, the warning also feeds the religious revivalist fervor,
including Bethany's father who orchestrates a massive rally to welcome the rapture, when all true believers will
be lifted up to heaven. The result is a tumultuous and not altogether happy ending that may at times seem fevered
but also right for this complex, compelling and wonderful novel.
Paul Kincaid is the recipient of the SFRA's Thomas D. Clareson Award for Distinguished Service for 2006. His collection of essays and reviews, What it is we do when we read science fiction is published by Beccon Publications. |
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