A novel about fear of the future—and the future of fear
New York City, the near future: Mitchell Zukor, a gifted young mathematician, is hired by a mysterious new financial consulting firm, FutureWorld. The business operates out of an empty office in the Empire State Building; Mitchell is employee number two. He is asked to calculate worst-case scenarios in the most intricate detail, and his schemes are sold to corporations to indemnify them against any future disasters. This is the cutting edge of corporate irresponsibility, and business is booming. As Mitchell immerses himself in the mathematics of catastrophe—ecological collapse, war games, natural disasters—he becomes obsessed by a culture’s fears. Yet he also loses touch with his last connection to reality: Elsa Bruner, a friend with her own apocalyptic secret, who has started a commune in Maine. Then, just as Mitchell’s predictions reach a nightmarish crescendo, an actual worst-case scenario overtakes Manhattan. Mitchell realizes he is uniquely prepared to profit. But at what cost? At once an all-too-plausible literary thriller, an unexpected love story, and a philosophically searching inquiry into the nature of fear, Nathaniel Rich’s Odds Against Tomorrow poses the ultimate questions of imagination and civilization. The future is not quite what it used to be.
Nathaniel Rich is an American novelist and essayist. He is the author of Losing Earth: A Recent History, which received awards from the Society of Environmental Journalists and the American Institute of Physicists and was a finalist for the PEN/E.O. Wilson Literary Science Writing Award; and the novels King Zeno, Odds Against Tomorrow, and The Mayor's Tongue. He is a writer-at-large at the New York Times Magazine and a regular contributor to Harper's and the New York Review of Books. His next book, Second Nature: Scenes from a World Remade, will be published in late March. Rich lives in New Orleans.
Odds Against Tomorrow is a little better than okay. I read the book mostly in a rented condo way the hell up on Lake Superior after kayaking and other terrifying activities with my family. When I needed space, late in the evening, Rich's book did its job. The premise was relevant and interesting enough to hold my attention but I'm not sure the premise as presented is substantial enough to carry a novel.
You know how some novels have a bazillion characters? I'm looking at you, Games of Thrones guy. Odds Against Tomorrow goes the other route, focusing nearly exclusively on four main characters, one of whom spends much of the novel off-screen while two of the remaining three border on caricature. It's like Rich knows these people in real life but forgets we don't. Maybe they're NYC archetypes. But I live in Wisconsin, sucka, so I'm not following you. Also, slightly off-topic, but I'm sick of reading books about NYC. I officially declare a moratorium on NYC as a setting. You're welcome. The main character's well-drawn; Rich writes with a mathematician's precision and builds the character's obsession with disasters in detail. But...especially the last hundred pages...Odds Against Tomorrow sort of bounces against the boundaries until the gasket blows and the steam rises from under the novel's hood. I'm not sure if Rich should have cut to a short story or built to a more robust novel. One of those. Still, I liked Odds Against Tomorrow in a vacation-y way. I probably sound bitchier than intended.
After dipping into this book here and there, I finally stayed up past midnight to wade through the rest. Water puns intended.
I am a fan of post-apocalyptic fiction, and this has more similarities to a disaster movie, watching events unfold as the disaster takes place. Mitchell Zukor is a mathematician with an innate ability to predict and calculate disaster, and after Seattle is destroyed by a massive earthquake, he takes a new position with a disaster assessment type firm in New York City. I think his boss is supposed to be mysterious, but he wasn't strange enough to do the trick.
I think the author enjoyed the research of this novel quite a bit, as there is a lot of information dumped between dialogue about the potential for viruses, natural disaster, antibiotic resistance, famine, mathematics, logic, government policy, etc. He didn't spend as much time with the characters as there are some that are introduced and then kind of disappear, like Elsa... I don't understand what he was doing with that character at all. She felt like she should have had greater significance, and she isn't the only one.
Still, I'm glad I read it. I've been following a fun blog called Paper/Plates, a blog that combines food and literature. This book was chosen for their book club and while I can't go to their in-person meeting in Chicago, I plan to talk about it online with some of them at the end of the month. Maybe my perceptions will change during the conversation.
One quote that made me laugh, and it was past midnight at this point so bear with me: "It wouldn't make a bad office, if it weren't in the middle of a post-apocalyptic wasteland."
I absolutely loved the first half of this book. Mitchell Zukor is a mathematical genius and a deranged individual whose mind obsesses on disaster scenarios. He gets a job as a futurist. His greedy boss finds he's wonderful at scaring big money types into buying their services so they can plan for disasters that are far-fetched, often to the point of ridiculous. But Zukor really believes in what he's doing.
Then, one day, he's right. He predicts history's worst hurricane that submerges and destroys Manhattan. Suddenly he's a prophet.
Up to this point, I loved the character. Rich reminded me of Chuck Palahnuik at his absolute best. Being inside the head of this genius/nut was a wonderful ride. Okay, I could be picky and say I thought Rich got the internal monolog in which Zukor was solving the math of disasters in his head wrong, but I'd be a bit pedantic. (Yeah, I know enough math to say this--how many other readers would?) And I've spoiled myself by just completing reading Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon, the absolute best portrayal of such a character that I've ever read, possibly the best ever written.
But then it becomes Zukor and his partner escaping NY in a canoe, stumbling into a love story, touring the disaster area. He's no longer the mathematical genius cum prophet; he's just a shlub stuck in a disaster area. The humor left the book (I loved the character's of Zukor's parents, his clients, etc. in the first half--they were all poignant yet hysterical, in a very Palahnuik-influenced fashion).
The author is in his early 30s. I predict thirty years from now, this will be referred to as a promising early work when they discuss a literary legend's career. Parts are great, but consistent, it isn't.
In the coming apocalypse, millions will suffer and there’s not much we can do about it. That’s the message of “Odds Against Tomorrow,” Nathaniel Rich’s exquisitely detailed story of the inundation of New York City by category 4 hurricane Tammy. It’s being hailed as the finest novel of climate change, in the vanguard of a new category of fiction: “cli-fi.”
True, it is a relatively entertaining story – if you like your heroes nerdy, fearful and swept away by circumstance. Yet by the end, I was unchanged, unmoved and uninspired. Maybe I’m a demanding reader, but if I invest time in reading a novel, I want something to happen to me.
Rich’s book doesn’t offer much to answer the inevitable question, “okay, now what?” It may be that “Odds Against Tomorrow” performs the service of painting such a vivid picture of what’s coming that people are moved to make changes in their lives. But what changes? For that, we’ll have to read another book, such as James Howard Kunstler’s “World Made by Hand.”
It has been said that the hero, Mitchell Zukor, undergoes a transformation from an intellectual parasite in the Wall Street financial industry to a “man of action.” Since he chooses to retreat from the world in a self-built fortress, plant a garden, loot a local variety store and never again shower or shave, it leaves the reader wondering – is this humanity’s fate? A kind of de-evolution into solitude and madness?
Not since Ian McEwan’s “Solar” has there been a less likeable protagonist in a climate change novel. This is not necessarily a weakness so much as it asks him to shoulder a burden he simply cannot carry. Once we’ve seen the horrors we hath wrought with our wasteful, carbon-drenched ways, we’re going to need leaders capable of inspiring us to carry forth in new ways. The cynicism of modern-day New York (and, by extension, America) will not provide the necessary vision to rethink our relationships with each other and with the living earth.
In this book, the earth is presented as an Old Testament enemy, hurling devastating earthquakes and hurricanes at the unsuspecting but deserving general public. “Odds Against Tomorrow” is indeed a vivid wake-up call, but once the writer has yanked his audience out of our electronics-fueled stupor of denial, it’s frustrating that there isn’t a more compelling of hopeful alternative. One storm and we either hang by our fingernails to a pathological status quo or devolve into hermitude?
I felt the same way after seeing Al Gore’s film, “An Inconvenient Truth.” Yeah, we’ve screwed things up and yeah, some devastating consequences are already starting to show themselves. We’ve had the warnings, now where are the novels and films that question our assumptions about who we are and how we might better fit in to this living planet? It seems to me that those would be more helpful as we rethink our assumptions and re-envision the future we want.
This would have been fine plot wise - it was a very interesting take on a dystopian/futuristic world - but the writing just wasn’t for me and I found it pretty boring and rambly.
Tales of climate-catastrophe date back to the nineteenth century, but only a few novels on the subject were published before the 1990s. Recently “Cli-fi” has entered the literary lexicon in keeping with public concerns about climate change and how little is being done about it.
Odds Against Tomorrow is the story of Mitchell Zukor, a mathematical genius obsessed with catastrophe and worst-case scenarios.
He leaps from a low-level “quant” position at Fitzsimmons Sherman’s Department of Equities, Assets and Derivatives, to employment by mysterious Alec Charnoble from cold-blooded risk-consultancy FutureWorld where his special talent for conceiving cataclysmic scenarios is put to use.
Inevitably, the big one hits, a post-Katrina, post-Sandy high category 3 hurricane called Tammy that transforms NYC into a disaster zone.
Rich’s prose is liberally laced with wry humour, which leaches away once Mitchell and colleague Jane Eppler exit the flooded city to try their luck as climate change refugees, paddling an appropriated artwork dubbed the “Psycho Canoe” to safety through foggy, flooded streets, encountering intricately imagined details such as Grand Central Station choked with bloated corpses.
But Mitchell wants more than safety. He’s on a quest to reconnect with utopian-survivalist farmer Elsa Bruner from his student days, a girl suffering a heart ailment that is a physical manifestation of Mitchell’s deepest fears.
Nathaniel Rich's Odds Against Tomorrow, an eerily prescient take on worst-cast scenarios and postdeluvian New York, is like a more humane, optimistic version of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Mitchell Zukor, a brilliant risk-assessor, makes a fortune providing mathematical proof for society's darkest fears after leaving the comfort of a white-shoe finance job for a mysterious start-up called FutureWorld. Then comes the flood, the realization of Mitchell's paranoia, and the onset of a post-apocalyptic pilgrimage that takes him from devastated New York to a former summer camp in Maine and back again. Rich's novel begins as a sharply written, quirky tale of the world of quants and their discontents, then blossoms into something bolder and more dream-like. A nightmarish 45-page canoe journey through the flooded, menacing city is so vivid and terrifying it could stand on its own among the best short stories, but it's made all the richer by the tense build-up before and the imperfect chance of salvation that may await on the other side.
This was a good read. Blows my mind that Rich wrote a Hurricane Sandy novel 5 years before Hurricane Sandy. But, if you think about it, it just goes to show that these storms (catastrophes) shouldn't be catching us off guard. The signs are there in the tidal charts and weather system patterns.
A good read about fear and its coping mechanisms, definitely worth your time.
Started with an interesting premise, moved into predictable but serviceable in the middle, descended into cliched and boring after that and totally left the rails approaching the final third when nothing anyone does makes any sense. Probably the stupidest ending of any book I've read in the past few years too. Just relieved I'm done with it now.
Mitchell Zukor hat Angst. Vor der Zukunft, vor allem. Nach seinem Studium wird er deswegen von einer mysteriösen Beratungsfirma engagiert, für elf er die Wahrscheinlichkeit von Katastrophen kalkulieren soll. Als eine seiner apokalyptischen Vorhersagen tatsächlich eintrifft, macht er sich auf die Suche nach seiner Freundin Elsa, dem einzigen Menschen, der keine Angst kennt.
Dieses Buch verwende ich für die ABC-Challenge Aufgabe 'Autor mit deinen Initialen'. Anfangs interessant, mit einem sehr zähen und langen Mittelteil und einem schönen Schluss konnte mich das Buch durch seine Längen leider nicht ganz einnehmen. Die Geschichte an sich hat mir gefallen.
An eerie exploration of apocalypses. Our main character is obsessed with risks and predicting climate disasters. It critiques the capitalism rooted in our world and how this continues during times of crises. Even though this was really interesting, I found the ending to be quite anticlimactic.
Odds Against Tomorrow is treated as a cli-fi classic, so I was quite surprised at how bad and poor taste it was. The first part (maybe first third?) could plausibly be read as quite astute satire: Wall Street Bro makes money predicting climate disasters for corporations so they can't later be sued for damages.
But then it becomes a sort of bizarrely earnest thriller as Manhattan floods and the main character escapes on a $28,000 canoe, before claiming part of the destroyed city as his own and doing a back-to-the-land ax-wielding masculinity thing.
I wish this had been a joke but I don't think it was. :/
This is a difficult book to review as I’m not entirely sure how I felt about it. Let’s just say this: if you like stories which leave their meaning wide open to personal interpretation, “Odds Against Tomorrow” might be a great book for you.
Without revealing too much, protagonist Mitchell Zukor is an unsettled young man making his way in Manhattan following a mid-western upbringing. Mitchell’s great talent in life is his ability to sift through data and mathematical models and synthesize probabilities of various outcomes with great precision. He stumbles on the perfect career when some enterprising zillionaires create a new form of business in which other businesses indemnify themselves against lawsuits following natural disasters by paying exorbitant sums to a third party. Mitchell becomes a star disaster forecaster for such a third-party firm.
Mitchell’s great at this sort of work because he’s not only a genius introvert, but he also has a form of severe anxiety that drives his incessant need to consume data and make disaster predictions. It’s a coping mechanism of sorts. His career as a peddler of fear to large corporations turns out to be quite lucrative. The turn comes when one of his predictions for a devastating east coast flood comes to pass. It turns his (and everyone else’s) world upside down.
From the very beginning of the book, Mitchell has a strange pen pal relationship with a woman named Elsa who maintains a life style that puts her in danger of triggering a potentially fatal heart defect. Throughout the novel, Mitchell is driven by his curiosity about Elsa’s ability to ignore the obvious risk and attendant fear that would be debilitating if it were he in her place. He wants to know what makes her tick. How can he learn to be more like her and control his own fears? But she remains remote and difficult to know. The mystery of Elsa is one of the consistent main sub-plots.
Mitchell is not a particularly compelling character; he’s largely a blank canvas. but he does provide a vehicle for mood. And there’s a lot of “mood” in this book. It seems to wrap together the new unreliability of post-9/11 reality and the fear of a planet out of control (we’ve brought climate change upon ourselves) in one big ball of dread. Isn’t that a feeling that we all share now? The “safe” and predictable world that we grew up in has been replaced by one in which we can’t rely on the comfort of anything we knew before. The world’s coming apart at the seams. Anything could happen at any moment...and we know it. It’s a deeply unsettling vibe any time we turn off our distraction machines and spend a few moments in quiet contemplation.
Following the obliteration of New York, Mitchell is irrevocably changed. He loses all interest in money and fortune (which he never cared all that much about to begin with) as well as in predicting the future. His focus shifts completely to self-reliance and solitude in which he seems to find great comfort. Perhaps this was Elsa’s secret all along. I think this ties in with the theme mentioned above. There’s a longing in many of us to admit that our constructed and completely artificial world is poisoning our very souls. We sometimes dream of imagined simpler times in which we were more connected to nature. Even growing our own food instead of purchasing it in a shrink-wrapped styrofoam container feels like it might be an antidote...a way to escape the nightmare tat we’ve created for ourselves. Heavy stuff. I might be completely off base here, but that’s just an indication of how wide open this book is. Mitchell is not a very engaging character (he felt like a bit of a ghost to me ) and the plot is not particularly propulsive following the Great Flood, so I can’t point to either of those things as highlights. Instead, I’m forced to analyze this “zeitgeist” idea as the book’s reason for being. If that was indeed the author’s intention, then I’d have to say that he succeeded. Is that enough for a great or enjoyable novel? It all depends on the kind of person you are. If you like neat, tidy stories, you should probably look elsewhere. If, instead, you like a good chin-scratcher that would keep a book club discussion group occupied, head out and grab a copy.
It's hard not to feel at least a little like Mitchell Zukor. From an early age, Mitchell has been obsessed with disaster. Not run-of-the-mill personal disaster such as getting shot down for a date or getting rejected on a college application, but real, honest-to-God catastrophe. An asteroid crashes into Earth. A hemorrhagic fever pandemic stalks the planet. The Yellowstone supervolcano erupts. That's the sort of disaster that keeps Mitchell up at night. But unlike everybody else in the world, Mitchell Zukor is a mathematic genius and can actually calculate the odds that any one or all of these events might actually happen. And early in Nathaniel Rich's curious novel about obsession, Odds Against Tomorrow, Mitchell lucks into a job where he can do this sort of thing professionally.
A novel about obsession and natural disaster
In his new job at FutureWorld, Mitchell's obsessive nature translates into the sort of passion that captivates clients. "He was on the vanguard of a new industry—nightmare analysis—and he was proud of it, too. He was a fear professional now." Meeting with the most senior executives at major multinational corporations, he would relate his mathematically grounded fears that the sky is going to fall in. "Every single year, in other words, there was a ten percent chance that the species would extinguish itself. He had no great advice to offer his clients about this fact. He just wanted them to understand the likelihood that they would be incinerated shortly. 'You won't be able to say no one warned you,' he said."
Making money by fantasizing about catastrophe
So, why would these titans of industry and commerce even let this sniveling, latter-day Cassandra in the door? It turns out that a very clever lobbyist for a New York-based multinational had managed to slip a seemingly innocent provision into a bill in the state legislature. That provision indemnifies any corporation from legal action in the case of any natural disaster if only the company takes steps to protect itself. And it may legally do so simply by paying a firm such as FutureWorld to advise it about the risks. Which means that Mitchell and his employers are now in a position to make a great deal of money for doing exactly what he most enjoys: fantasizing about catastrophe.
Surprise! A natural disaster turns out to be . . . disastrous
Then catastrophe actually strikes New York. A massive hurricane rushes up the Atlantic Coast and floods the city. Just exactly as Mitchell has told his clients might happen. And this is not your average hundred-year flood, or five-hundred-year flood. It's the Big Kahuna. The whole city is under tens of feet of water. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, die. Millions become refugees, testing the ability of towns and cities far and wide to absorb them.
So, Odds Against Tomorrow is a dystopian novel of sorts. But it's mostly about obsession. And Mitchell isn't obsessive just about disaster. He fixates on young women, first one, then another, to the point at which at least one reviewer describes the book as a love story. But it's not that. It's just a novel about obsession. And, yes, it's very funny.
wow! total awesomeness. i've never read anything by this author before, had no idea what to expect, bought it in a fit of i-need-an-audiobook-now. what a reward it is sometimes, taking a flyer on an author unknown to you.
the story is about a young man new to the Big Apple from scenic Kansas, who has the advantage of being a mathematical whiz. (Rich describes him as looking like a swing voter. snicker.) our boy gets a job as a worst-case scenario analyst, like throwing gasoline on a fire in his case, as he's already neurotic as hell.
and then he becomes a wildly successful neurotic swing voter, until the hammer comes down.
the book could be roughly divided into three parts--an almost satirical opening, in which we watch our hero quake his way to the top of the ladder; an almost nature-survival middle; and an oddly lyrical end. one could be forgiven for thinking that one is reading three different books, but it hangs together all the same, as the writing changes right along with the protagonist. it's an interesting trick to have pulled off. fortunately, the book never loses its funny--given the subject matter, the funny is absolutely crucial. Rich is, by the way, very, very funny.
it's a kind of Vonnegut-like funny, however--you have to be willing to accept the scalpel-cut comments on human nature that will follow. this is my sole argument with the book, and the fault may be my own, but i have a hard time believing that humans are perforce going to behave that crappy. particularly disturbing to me was the scene Equally fun are the jabs the author takes at capitalism, anti-capitalism, the financial industry and the insurance industry, and all the social structures that make sure the money goes 'round.
the reader of this audiobook did a great job--the voices are distinct and the narration lively, and he even sings a ditty or two. excellent job, this reading.
i found this book immensely enjoyable. so much so that i'm going to start it over from the beginning rather than go run and buy another audiobook. it's going to be a hard act to follow.
Nathaniel Rich keenly observes trends current society is falling into/has been unconsciously enslaved by. Fear of litigation rather than wise reflection drives decisions. Inertia impels inaction. The short term is all that matters, of course, because the shareholders this quarter will disapprove anything that does not maximize profits. Profits Are Paramount — longterm thinking be damned.
Rich examines the question: so what comes after the impending semi-apocalypse? Is the tree-hugger mentality preferable to the corporate mentality? Post capitalism, how might one thrive? Part of his answer comes from a quote by David Goodis. "There is no such thing as courage. There's only fear. A fear of getting hurt and a fear of dying. That's why the human race has lasted so long." And part of his answer comes in the passage that begins, "...disorder always won in the end. The idea that man could order the world to his own design was the most pitiful fairy tale ever told."
Along the way I enjoyed powerful images Rich turned up, a smooth writing style that flowed from beginning to end and a page-turning story I did not want to end. As dystopian tales go, this one held at least a bit more hope than some. I thoroughly enjoyed the book and recommend it to anyone thoughtful enough to entertain the notion that something's rotten in Denmark.
An excellent read, well-written, fast paced, the main character is geeky, absent-minded and thoroughly likeable. The ending is unexpected, though in line with the character's off-beat personality. This was my first "brush" with climate fiction, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I would just like to add that I suspect Nathaniel Rich's original intention was to zero in on one disturbing aspect of our society, the way we use mathematics and turn it into a pseudo-science to fool people and get them to cough up money for insurance. But after Hurricane Sandy, his book took on another deeper, more threatening meaning and it was suddenly seen as an excellent example of climate fiction. Indeed, the book cover is meant to catch this aspect, depicting New York under water. Climate fiction has been getting a lot of attention recently becoming fast a hot new genre that some see as an offshoot of science fiction and others as a self-standing speculative genre that has something important to say to us about our future.
Regardless of that squabble, the fact is that Nathaniel Rich's book is highly entertaining and an excellent read - but it's also the kind of read that makes you think after youve closed the book, a definite plus!
I love this sort of character. I have lots of friends who are quants. Anyone who says, "Well, it could have been worse..." would like this book, I imagine.
There were some GREAT lines in the first half of this book.
I would give it a higher rating for a punchier ending. I don't mind the way it ended necessarily -- but the language / quirkiness / energy of the tale was much different at the end. All the things I liked in the beginning are gone in the end. I don't think I highlighted a single phrase after 2/3 way through the book. It is almost like two different voices completely -- and I didn't care as much about the second one. Read until they get to the Hudson -- recommend putting it down after that point.
Oddly, this world doesn't seem despotic to me. Perhaps that says more about me than the book.
One thing I thought of later: a map would have helped. Maybe the old map of the red oaks, swamps and creeks and a new modern map overlaid.
An interesting premise that just seemed to be bogged down by a writing style I wasn't too pleased with. I can't really describe what was bad about the writing style, but it didn't keep me interested to continue in jumping to the next page after the main protagonist left Manhattan, and the tie up to the book left a little bit too much open. I think the reason I didn't want to continue is I didn't like the main protagonist, but I didn't hate him. I just didn't care about him, so I didn't really care what happened to him at the end. It was his co-worker that I seemed to want to know more about than him.
Any book that shines a light on the news/general public not listening to scientists is okay by me. I feel like I also got some decent survival tips and really want to buy a canoe.
This isn't my usual genre, but I read this book in 24 hours. The first and second halves of the book are radically different in many ways. My first impression is that I enjoyed the first half more, but I'm wondering if over time I might discover that the second half holds more meaning/brain-sticking passages and moments. Only time will tell, I guess! :)
All in all, if you're looking for an unusual book that makes you think about the world while delivering a ton of very memorable passages and one-liners, give this one a read!
I really liked the first half of this, although it probably helps that I was reading half of it during heavy rainfall. Helped for the setting, at least. But somewhere after the big event, it loses pace, although I haven't yet figured out why, exactly. The characters seem less convincing, and it felt a little like the author had a really good idea but then got stuck trying to finish it. Still a fun read.
New York is flooded. And there is so much money to be made from it. Jonathan Swift meets the 21st Century and its looming threat of climate destruction and grabs his pen. Disaster capitalism at its finest, with very good visual imagery and genuine entertainment to take you sailing through the inundated avenues of New York. Particularly interested in how Rich exploits gender roles and expectations to emphasise the hyper-capitalistic nature of his satiric post-apocalyptic scenario.
So many brilliant turns of phrase, you can tell he has so much fun with language here— and thus, as a reader you do too. The premise is fascinating as is imagining ny c in this way. The picture of climate catastrophe is deeply affecting in ways nonfiction can’t be. Still there are some parts of the world building and plot progression that need smoothing and lost me
The protagonist is definitely an incel, and the few women within the group are represented in some uncomfortable ways. Despite this, I read it incredibly quickly. Perhaps it was due to the doom and dread the narrative filled me with.
Mitchell is a risk analyst at FutureWorld, a company created to limit large corporations' liability for damages in the event of catastrophe. He is obsessed with calamity and his job is to come up with worst-case-scenarios to tell his clients. One of his predictions is a hurricane of unprecedented proportions. Then a cataclysmic hurricane hits New York...
Reasons for low rating: flat and unlovable characters, insufficiently developed ending with no plausible large-scale/long-term solutions offered, pessimistic/nihilistic and defeatist view of climate change, the humour felt unnatural at times, the character seemed inconsistent e.g. afraid of worst-case-scenarios but not necessarily prepared for them Redeemable aspects: interesting facts e.g. there is an active volcano under Yellowstone Park, informative, interesting dive into the mind of an obsessive and highly intelligent yet unprepared character
With barely more than three characters at play, be ready to hear the inner thoughts of our protagonist, Mitchell. The language to disprove Mitchell is vivid and I felt the viscerality of his fears and premonitions, which made his internal journey all the more compelling. This novel combines normal themes of modernity, alienation and abstraction, and slams them headlong into the future of environmental uncertainty. We're all screwed, but for those that can get out and survive, maybe a brand new world, relatively uncluttered, can arise.
Apocalyptic fiction often presumes the destruction of EVERYTHING and EVERYONE, or at least THE ENTIRE COUNTRY. Less common is a scenario given where a city or state -- even a major one -- gets hit..and all else continues, shifting aid over to the destroyed area. Less common, probably, because we don't need to imagine it -- it may not be New York City (yet), but slowly, cities everywhere are succumbing to nature. To think we'll be able to avoid it, at this point, is equal parts hubris and delusion.
So the premise of this book -- NYC effectively destroyed by a flood; doomsaying mathematician predicting the fallout -- is sharp and timely. Unfortunately, the execution is woefully uneven. This reads like the editor gave up: "Yeah, you know what, Nathaniel, it's all good --- consistent characterization isn't really that big a deal anyway. Your plot jumps around pointlessly but nah, don't fix it. You've got something golden with the interaction between Mitchell and Jane, but I can tell you prefer this nonsense allegory of Mitchell being obsessed with a heart-diseased woman he knew cursorily in college who reflects his fears and hopes. I know this because you refer to it explicitly every few pages. But it's cool, we can't trust the reader, so keep it in there."
A shame, because seriously: the Mitchell & Jane stuff was written unbelievably -- the chemistry was fucking palpable. I rarely find myself going KISSSS!!! KISSSS!!! when reading books, but I may have said something to that effect in the middle section. The "don't abandon me" line ---- ahhhh.
The middle section, in fact, is by far the strongest. Some major plot conveniences aside, the image of Jane and Mitchell sailing the streets of NYC in a canoe, two of every animal cracker, will stick. As will the last page --- no spoilers, but Jane, really, is the star character of all this. I want a sequel from her perspective (I never want sequels. what did this book do to me.).
So: I got this intending it to be a light summer read. It delivered that, but little more. If it wasn't for the mad OTP feelz + a rather excellent ending, it'd be 2 stars -- but what the hell. All said, sometimes consistent quality isn't as important as explosive moments.
This book - written before Sandy - is an incredibly prescient tale of New York City devastated by a massive hurricane. The book's third act, possibly inspired by Bill McKibben's book Eaarth, renders a world where, "the future would vanish as a preoccupation - the present would consume man's full energies." Without explicitly talking about climate change Rich digs deep into this issue. This is done by exploring hysterical worst-case scenarios accompanied by rabid analyses of risk vs. reward fueled by high capitalism gone amok.
Rich is a precocious literary talent, with a gift for language and satire. That said, I was distracted by his oversimplified (and in one case inaccurate) view of the Midwest and Midwesterners. One of his characters is from Winnetka, IL outside Chicago. According to Rich she is the first woman from her high school to go to Princeton. In reality, that would be impossible. Winnetka is extremely affluent and has some of the highest profile public schools outside Chicago. I have always found Rich's work to be creative and engaging but I hope his future stories are informed by more time outside of the New Haven/Manhattan bubble.