Liminal is a story about an environmental activist turned mother and lover. Having seen what civilization has done to our world, she has committed to drastic action. Told through letters, journal entries and photos, liminal is a walk through one year of her life. The joys, the sorrows, and the ultimate, and heart breaking decision that will change everything.
A young woman, damaged and sickened by our society, meets like-minded individuals and they develop a plan. Over the years, the plan grows, like links in a chain, the narrator tells us. She meets someone, falls in love and has a child. This novel takes place during the child's second year.
The novel is framed by alternating letters to her husband and passages describing everyday life with her daughter, interspersed with memories and details about the evils of civilization and the plan. Having never thought she'd find love, the narrator feels grateful for the love of partner and daughter--it is for this love she must continue on with the plan to take down civilization.
The poetic nature of the straightforward narrative, along with the photos throughout, help reveal the loving relationships between the narrator and her family and nature, as well as her wishes for a better world. The novel fails, however, to show us why her drastic actions are necessary, why civilization is destructive enough that it must be brought down. So, if one is already anti-civ, as they say, you'll probably like it. Those unaware of the critique will be bewildered by the ending.
I'm always supportive of fiction from anarchist points of view and I think this is worth reading.
I'm skeptical about the supposed bond between mother and child, the sanctified stereotype that this novel exploits. If the love of a mother is so extra-ordinary, then no mother could ever abuse or neglect their child, we know this is not true. This goes for fathers as well.
While I think the anti-civ critique has many valid ideas and insights, I could never agree with demolishing civilization in a catastrophic manner. That way lies genocide, plain and simple. It is a fantasy. If it ever did happen, we'd all die from nuclear explosions and radiation poisoning anyway as the nuclear power plants all go Fukishima and the missiles launch or leak.
Finished this in one sitting. This is a lovely little book; well-written and thought-provoking, especially for a leftist who often struggles with the idea that we are never doing quite enough to make a significant impact. I highly recommend this to anyone who also struggles with the thought of bringing children onto this dying planet.
Poorly written, poorly designed, I didn't give a fuck about the narrator's boring-ass hetero nuclear family or the bizarre martyr plan to take out the power grid.
If you want to see an anti-civ activist sputter, ask them about sick and disabled people in their brave new anarcho-primitivist world. This thought was foremost in my mind while reading Liminal. What if Magda was a special needs child who literally required civilization to live? Her mother acknowledges that people will die as the result of her terrorism yet never stops to think about who most of those people are likely to be, as the hospitals and the infrastructure fall, medical equipment and supplies can no longer be manufactured, and medical research ends. Ironically, Liminal is a pretty good example of ableist privilege from the left.
On the other hand, to be fair, Alvarez's environmentalist perspective is still a sympathetic one and the story packs a powerful emotional punch. I read it as the tragic psychological portrait of a suicide bomber, regardless of ideological motivation. The unnamed narrator is in a transitional state, knowing full well that her death and a cleansing apocalypse await yet mourning the deep love and idyllic life she has with her family in the present. It's gut-wrenching stuff and the writing is beautiful. This book is definitely going to stick with me for awhile, that's for sure.
Purchased from the Wooden Shoe, a bookstore in Philadelphia that specializes in radical, anarchist, and leftist literature.
My biggest critique of this book is how short it is. Other than that, it's a beautiful story of the personal struggles to deal with family, friends, and the necessity for putting an end to the machine.
A short but moving story about a woman who makes a pledge to commit a future action and then has a child in the meantime. I could see this being a full-length book.