Star Ratings for The Young World:
Characters: *** (3 stars)
Character Development: *** (3 stars)
Plot: **** (4 stars)
Writing: **** (4 stars)
Overall: ***1/2 (3 1/2 stars)
Age range recommendation: 14 and up (violence, sex, language)
REVIEW BY MORGAN. Originally posted on my book blog, Navigating The Stormy Shelves.
Be it known: I read an advanced reading copy of The Young World, and some details may have changed by the time of publication.
All the adults are dead. The Sickness killed off everyone over 18, and all the little kids, leaving only teenagers alive to pick up the pieces. It didn’t take long for New York City to lose all semblance of order, as survivors form tribes and gangs based on where they once lived with their families. Without adults to keep the cogs and wheels of the world turning, money means nothing and food is getting scarce. There is no law on the street, and very little reason to maintain a safe or healthy lifestyle. Because the sickness isn’t done with them, and around someone’s 18th birthday their body starts to grow up. Their hormones think they’re becoming an adult, and they die.
With a life expectancy of no more than six years remaining for all the survivors, it’s no wonder kids turn to violence and despair. Clan warfare turns the city into a battleground, even though most kids just want to protect themselves and their friends for a few more years of canned food and remembered music. The teenagers living in Washington Square Park try to keep things pretty peaceful, even though gangs like the once-spoiled, once-rich kids from Central Park like to come around and exchange bullets now and then. But living to see another day doesn’t mean much when you’ve got so few days remaining. Someone needs to find a solution, a way to bring back the possibility of a future. A small group of friends follows an improbable hypothesis on a quest through New York City, hoping to discover a cure and find a reason to re-build society.
Right off the bat, I’m going to admit that I’m predisposed in favor of this book. I love stories about young people facing peril without any adults around. I wrote my dissertation on how the violence in books like Peter Pan and Lord Of The Flies springs from the sudden freedom from grown-up intervention. I’m a huge nerd about this sort of thing. So even when The Young World fell into tired cliches or leaned too heavily on cinematic action sequences, I had a good time reading it. This is the sort of story that launches itself at its readers, more than anything. You’ve got to just watch the action unfold without trying to read too deeply into every character and event.
Christopher Weitz directed several big-screen adaptions of popular books. His writing shows that he’s very comfortable with the genre, and the story holds together through the whole book. But it’s the action scenes and snappy dialogue which really keep the pages turning. Yeah, there are moments which will be predictable to anyone who has been to the cinema in the past twenty years. A character seems to die and comes back to kick some ass and rescue our heroes later. There’s a lot of stumbling around in the dark. Huge and scary wild animals – escaped from the zoo, don’t ya know – appear with teeth a’ gnashin’ in unexpected places. This is a YA post-catastrophe thriller, packed with action scenes described in such a way that the inevitable film practically writes itself. While some readers might find the relentless hostilities and constant one-liners wearisome after a while, there’s just enough character development to keep the story grounded even as it makes full speed ahead.
The Young World is narrated in alternating chapters, both told in the first person. Jeff (Jefferson) finds himself in a stressful leadership position after his older brother Wash (short for Washington, poor fellas) turns eighteen and quickly succumbs to the sickness. Jefferson wants to bring order and hope back to the clan of teens who live in Washington Square. Someone needs to protect them from the vicious Uptowners, but he isn’t nearly so cut out for the job as his charismatic brother was. Donna was friends with the brothers, possibly a little in love with Wash, so his death hits her hard. She’s got a bit of medical expertise – invaluable knowledge in this life without trained professionals – and tries not to let herself get shaken by any of the horror they have to face. But times are weird, and Donna’s the first one to admit that. While Jeff’s chapters show his attempts to remain measured and calm, she is very real; conversational and up-front about her own needs and fears and doubts. I felt like I could really get inside both Jeff and Donna’s heads during their chapters. Having two unique perspectives on the hard decisions ahead of them created a good sense of balance and tension. They can admit their own inherent prejudices and self-centered concerns to the reader in ways they don’t dare say out loud. I also liked the way that both our narrators (but especially Donna) would point out the obvious connections between the sort of apocalypses we fantasize about nowadays – in our shows and books and video games – and their reality after The Sickness. She knows they’re living through a cheesy trilogy and can almost laugh at the irony in their desperation. But not too loudly, ’cause laughter might draw enemy fire.
Some supporting characters were a little one dimensional, mostly because our band of protagonists encounter so many groups of kids on their journey. Of-bloody-course the tiny Asian girl is a martial arts whiz. The younger kids who live underground are bedecked in Hot Topic and cling to pop culture. The rich offspring of Manhattan’s wealthy elite behave like entitled assholes even while they try to establish some sick form of order, but the only given reason for their douchebaggery is the fact that they used to be rich. But maybe that’s how it would really be? Maybe the fear of losing privilege, in a world where money suddenly means nothing and resentments abound, could turn teenaged jackasses into violent pimps and racist tyrants. I guess that isn’t so far-fetched after all.
Then there were a few nifty twists on the usual stereotypes in this sort of story. The NYPL should be a safe haven for those characters who believe in the powers of knowledge and reason, but something’s horribly wrong – really downright spooky – within those hallowed shelves. The kids in Harlem have re-purposed police cars to suit their own needs, now that the grown men who liked to bully them for years have finally died off. I was super excited when a boating excursion made up part of their adventure, and thought the Captain was super cool. (He is delightfully uninhibited in pointing out that sheltered kids like Jeff and Donna are wrong to assume that black kids from harsher neighborhoods wouldn’t know how to sail.) Add some hyped-up pre-teens, armed to the teeth and bent on commandeering the boat, and I’m entirely on board. (Ugh, pirate puns. I’m not actually sorry.)
I don’t usually go for the apocalyptic, dystopian, catastrophe, bio-terrorism stuff. It doesn’t really interest me, and sicknesses are gross. But the premise of The Young World – bands of teenagers facing off against each other and their own quickened mortality – was unique enough to keep me engaged. It’s interesting to wonder how quickly we would slide into chaos if the millions of adults who move gasoline through pipes, electricity through wires, and seeds through the soil – all those other imperatives for everyday life – suddenly disappeared. It’s interesting to witness what the violence might look like, when growing up is a literal death sentence and the future of humanity looks to have around six years left. Interesting, and exciting, but not necessarily pleasant. The book sets up for an obvious sequel after a (too) big twist at the adventure’s climax. Nonetheless, I had fun reading The Young World. I got drawn into the action and really wanted our heroes to succeed on their far-fetched quest for a reason to keep hoping.
I recommend The Young World to anyone who likes their scary visions of the future to be action-packed rather than political. People who liked the Purge movies might like it, as the aesthetics are quite similar. (I still can’t get that bone-chilling masked kid with the machete out of my mind. He would have fit into this book world very well.) So would anyone who likes to read post-catastrophe novels to see how different authors envision the end of society. The teen characters have authentic voices, and characters come from all walks of life. The gore and language and depravity don’t stop the book from making some interesting points about what we take for granted, so while it’s not for squeamish readers I wouldn’t call this a gratuitously horrific book, either.
All the references to movies and iphones and fashion trends will surely sound old-fashioned in even a year or two. But the notion of kids facing their own natures – chaotic, despairing, or hopeful natures – when there’s no adults to regulate them has inspired writers for over a century. I hope it continues to be a subject people write about, whether it includes kids flying around fighting pirates in their pajamas, or teenagers shooting their way through hostile city streets. And also fighting pirates.