Out There

by Adrien Stoutenburg

Five children and their nature-loving "aunt" leave the domed city to search for signs of new life in the surrounding territory made barren by the disasters of misapplied technology.

222 pages, Hardcover

First published May 24, 1971

Reviews

[Phair · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thought this was going to be post apocalyptic but it was really more a nature adventure. It’s 40 years after some contamination event drives most of civilization into domed cities. The poor and non conformist types still live outside but stick close to the domes. Wildlife and plants are almost non-existent in these areas. Social focus is on a space program to move off planet.
A group of kids and their elderly neighbor lady have a Nature Club to study what used to be but just maybe some animals might still be Out There in the supposedly contaminated wilderness. So off they go on an expected brief camping trip which, because of accidents and an encounter end up being much longer and more adventurous than they bargained for.
What they find in the “high country” is certainly unexpected and wonderful but the ultimate rescue gives us an ending that is much less hopeful. Rather a bummer. Left me not enjoying this outing.

[Diana Welsch · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have a thing about books that take place underground, or in a bunker or domed city. I also frequent boards such as Goodreads' What's the Name of That Book and click on books that might fit that bill, partially to get new ideas and partially because I've read so many of them that I might know the answer.

Out There gets suggested sometimes because it takes place in a domed city, but it looks like no one has written a detailed synopsis or review of it, here or on any of the sites I check. So I did it. I got the book through interlibrary loan (it's not common), read it, and here you go! Now if you're wondering if this is your book, it'll be easier to find out. Because I want the details of this book online, this review contains spoilers, so click if you want to see it!

Zebrina "Aunt Zeb" is an elderly Ms. Frizzle-type who hosts a nature club in her attic for the neighborhood kids. The goal of this club is to pass down knowledge and appreciation of nature and wildlife to the younger generation, because it mostly no longer exists. You see, Zeb and her young friends live in New City, a domed city shut off from the polluted surrounding areas. Her late husband had been a big game hunter, and he and his ilk, as well as the rest of the human race, had abused and polluted the natural world so that creating this domed city was necessary for humans to survive. There are some pets left, and animals raised for food, but not much wildlife, not even pests like spiders. Occasionally you'll see a bird. But other than that, it's just freeways and casinos and other unwholesome things.

Zeb's crew of nature scouts includes:
Patrick, who's a take-charge sort
Lester, who has a philosophical/religious bent
Fay, whose one characteristic is being fat
Sylvie, a rich girly-girl
and Celeste, aka Knobs, who is being raised by Zeb after her gambling-addicted parents abandoned her clinging to a freeway fence, inches from cars speeding by. Knobs is called that because she has some developmental disabilities, probably due to her traumatic abandonment. She compulsively fidgets with a set of jacks she's had since before the trauma. Zeb takes good care of her, but she doesn't really click with the other kids.

It's never explicitly said how old these kids are. Patrick and Lester apparently know how to drive, although driving laws may be more lax in this society. Anyway, at the suggestion of one of the kids, Zeb takes them on a semi-ill advised camping excursion outside the dome in hopes of seeing some wildlife: squirrels, bugs, anything. It's legal to go outside the dome (Fay even lives just outside the dome because her family can't afford a house in the dome), just not recommended because it may not be healthy. Regular people aren't kept informed on how bad it is out there, because it is mostly irrelevant to their lives. So Zeb and the crew are banking on nature having recovered a bit since humans started leaving it alone.

Zeb loads up her station wagon with the kids, air mattresses, some food and water, and other supplies, including a gun for emergencies - there are rumors that packs of wild dogs roam the wilderness. They drive until the road is no longer passable for a car, and then start hiking. They should only be gone for 5 days or less.

Well, some stuff happens to them. First of all, Lester wanders off by himself while the others are setting up camp, and when he encounters a wild dog, he becomes so excited and frightened that he drops and breaks their only compass. Zeb, who has the patience of a saint apparently, tries to not get mad and comes up with some alternative ways for them to figure out where they are and where the car is. But while they are trying to get to another campsite, they encounter Josh, a wild man who abandoned his dismal life being trained for manual labor on the moon to take his chances living off the land.

Knowing that if he is caught poaching wild deer he will go to prison, he aims a gun at Zeb and the kids. Lester, however, who is now in charge of the gun, beats him to it. He shoots the man in the leg. While he isn't killed, he won't survive long without medical help. Plus, shooting a man, even in self-defense, wreaks havoc with Lester's personal moral code. Complicating things, some huge aircraft from a nearby military test site fly low over their campsite, scattering their remaining belongings, food and water, making it impossible for them to keep going.

The man allows them to carry him back to where he's staying, an abandoned lodge/motel that must have catered to hikers and outdoorsy types when the area was still hospitable to life. There are some supplies there for them to use, and the area is rich with the kind of wildlife they hoped to see, and unspoiled enough that they can fish and gather vegetation to survive. Luckily, before they left, Zeb informed Steve, a now-grown nature squad graduate who lives next door to her, where they were headed and to send help if they don't return by a certain day.

After a few days, Steve and his wealthy friend who owns some type of futuristic helicopter are able to spot their signal fires and pick them up. Zeb is distrustful of this wealthy guy who seems bent on walking back the small steps nature has made to recover - for instance, he wants to bring back the commercial deep-sea fishing that devastated the oceans. So she lies to him and says that they have barely seen any wildlife and that they don't feel the fish they caught were safe to eat - and hopes he believes it.

Even with all the dangerous situations they got into and a member of nature squad shooting a human being, the trip was still a success on a certain level. They saw a lot more wildlife then they imagined in their wildest dreams. They could feel optimistic about the environment's ability to recover, although less so about humanity's ability to learn from their mistakes and respect it this time around. They all return home from their trip profoundly changed by their experience. Josh gets the medical attention he needs and comes home with Zeb, who is always a sucker for a stray. And who knows what they will do after this?



I can't say I know exactly what age group this was written for, kids or teens, but 1971 was pre-YA literature being its own thing, so it doesn't really matter. I'd say it's good for kids 10 and up. While it could have used more time spent on the kids' characterization, I feel that this little-known book is a hidden gem. It didn't take the direction I thought it would at all - both Knobs' dark backstory and the results of their camping trip were much more serious than I expected. These people were in actual danger which made it a suspenseful read at times. Some smart Hollywood screenwriter should snatch this up for cheap and make it into a movie because it has a great plot arc and could be on par with Hunger Games-type dystopian stuff. FYI - I really liked the Hunger Games books and movies, and I think Out There is a cut above Divergent and the other imitators. It's even timely considering how the current administration wants to get rid of the EPA and other things that would cause us to die.

[Jean Triceratops · Rating 2 out of 5]

[I read old fantasy and sci-fi novels written by women authors in search of forgotten gems. See more at forfemfan.com]

I expected Out There to be a Post Apocalyptic novel; the back copy promises several young heroes—and someone named Zebrina—would leave their domed city and find a way out into the brave old world OUT THERE! There might be animals. There might be other life. There might be death.

The book opens on four teenagers and one child in an attic. They clearly see themselves as one group, and they're planning what to do next. Stuffed animal heads of lions and rhinos adorn the walls, it's nighttime, and it's raining. The child is obsessively playing jacks, and the harsh glow of fluorescent lights from gambling parlors casts an eerie pallor over the room.

It's got ambiance, mood, and I'm ready to watch this unlikely gang struggle against wisdom and convention to make a break for it.

And then Zebrina comes up the stairs, a tray of sandwiches in her hands, and the tone shifts. Zebrina is an elderly nature enthusiast, and the kids in her attic are her "Nature Squad." Under her tutelage, they (voluntarily) study the animals and plants that no longer exist around their domed city. They travel to the least-contaminated areas outside the city limits to learn about geological formations. They debate and discuss, and when they're done, they return to their homes and the problems that come with them.

Sylvie is desperate for her parents' affection; they're too busy performing around the world to pay her any mind. She lives in a sterile, expensive condo within the domed city, the maid her only regular companion.

Lester's father is a decorated soldier in the space army and pressures him to enlist, but Lester eschews the comforts of the domed city and the army's violence. He longs to be morally perfect, using the teachings and books of old spiritual leaders across religions to inform his actions.

Patrick comes from a broken home just outside the dome; his parents do nothing but fight and drink. He wants to be strong, stronger than them, but fears he will fail when he is needed most.

Fay comes from a large family and feels forgotten. Unlike the rest of her siblings, she's fat, and she's embarrassed her family doesn't have enough money to live within the dome. She's a timid people-pleaser.

Knobs, whose real name is Celeste, was abandoned by her parents in the middle of a highway. Zebrina adopted her and tries to help the girl overcome her trauma, though Knobs is still shy and quiet and hides both behind Zebrina and within a world of her own making that involves her ball and jacks.

These problems are typical of pretty much any industrialized society. The ecological devastation of Out There flavors the specifics, but that's it.

Post Apocalyptic stories, to be appropriately apocalyptic, need a source of tension based within the apocalypse. The exact tension can vary, but typically the sources are:

- A society messed up specifically in relation to the apocalypse (think the somewhat stereotypical "idyllic town that lures people in to eat them").

- A struggle to survive directly due to the apocalypse (think outrunning zombies, or the dangers of radiation, or traversing a landscape entirely devoid of edible plants/animals).

Out There has neither. The apocalypse is long enough in the rear-view mirror that life is just life.

That tips this into Post-Post Apocalyptic territory, a genre of which I'm particularly fond.

But one of my favorite aspects of Post-Post Apocalyptic novels is seeing how society, as we know it, has shifted; some parts are recognizable, others are baffling.

One Post-Post Apocalyptic novel I read (set hundreds of years later in an agrarian society) depicted a minstrel arriving in town. Everyone is abuzz; this minstrel is particularly adept at portraying a musician of cultural significance: Elwiss. It's not until his white jumpsuit and coifed hair are described that you realize that Elvis is to them what Shakespeare is to us. It's a goofy, delightful scene that highlights the fluidity of culture and society even if the scene is a bit on the nose.

There's none of that here. Society is the same as society today, except that everyone except the poor lives under a dome. But this isn't a case of "those outside the walls rot with radiation and starve to death." Fay and Patrick attend school inside the dome, and they are free to enter and exit at their leisure. This is more like a "they're from the wrong side of the tracks" situation.

This doesn't feel like a Post-Post Apocalyptic novel, either. So what is it, I wondered?

The Nature Squad decide they want to search for animals in the wild. Aunt Zeb agrees to take them. They're allowed to go—there are no laws against going out into the wilderness, and the kids' parents or guardians all say it's okay. So they load up Zeb's old station wagon and head out on a week-long expedition. Hopefully, they'll spot some animals, but if nothing else, they'll have spent a week under the stars.

Essentially, they're going on a field trip.

Aunt Zeb is so cheerful, so full of knowledge, and so understanding of her wards that she feels damn close to Miss Frizzle. I genuinely wouldn't be surprised if Out There inspired the Magic School Bus franchise.

The trip is much of what you'd expect. There's camping and unexpected and undisclosed missteps that culminate into a more significant problem. There are surprises and blisters and wounded egos. Frankly, I found most of this boring. The technical writing was good, but the plot was either thin ("let's see if we can spot some animals") or blunt ("let's see if we can find our way back to the car!"). And with six point-of-view characters, there wasn't much time to get to know anyone. We understand their shortcomings, but that's about it. Their journey took up the rest of the pages.

One aspect I did like about their journey is that there appeared to be a direct correlation between the welfare of humans and animals. When the Squad is doing well, animals are absent; the best they get is some shoots and flowers. When the Squad is struggling, the animals are plentiful. I didn't realize this until hindsight, but thematically it's interesting ... if depressing.

I wish I had clocked this earlier because it might have prepared me for the ending. It's a downer ending, and not in a way where I go "Yes, it's a downer, but nothing else would make sense!" It's just a downer. Lame. And the book ends up endorsing fatphobia, which is not cool considering this book is aimed at a YA audience. Do not recommend. More detailed review of the ending up next, spoilers abound.

So after several misadventures, the Squad is stranded in an old mountain resort, fending for themselves and living off the ... well, not quite 'bounty' of nature, but you get the idea. They're foraging and fishing for survival. They're more-or-less having a great time, in part because due to the nature of their challenges, every child has overcome their greatest fear. Patrick has proven he can be strong in the face of struggle. Sylvie has proven her compassion is greater than her need for her parents' love. Lester has come to terms with the notion that "life is what it is" and that while he should strive for goodness, he cannot be perfect. Fay has learned confidence. And Knobs has retired the jacks and put her focus into the outside world.

And then help arrives.

An old member of the Nature Squad hired a helicopter to rescue them. One of the first things out of his mouth when he sees them is "Wow! Fay, you've lost so much weight we should call you Skinny!"

Earlier in the book, Fay expresses to Zeb that she hopes she loses weight. Zeb says she likes Fay exactly the way she is. Then Fay spends most of the trip obsessing over her weight. While others are enjoying themselves, she's pushing herself harder, hoping that each mile sheds pounds. It's obviously unhealthy. But here, at the end, she's found her confidence and hasn't thought of her weight in pages. Here was the last demon to slay, I thought. Fay would say it didn't matter whether she lost weight or not, and it was judgemental attitudes like that which made it so difficult for her to accept herself.

Lol, no. The moment passes, and it's clear it's a good thing that Fay's not fat anymore. Her unhealthy obsession worked out in the end. It's great!

...This is not a message we should send to any audience, let alone a YA one.

So the helicopter pilot owns his fleet of helicopters courtesy of family money gained through commercial fishing and hunting and other ecologically devastating means. As he helps prepare the Squad to leave, Zeb can see him sizing up the place, putting price-tags on everything. She tries to lie, to portray it as uninhabitable, but her ploy fails. By the time they're flying away, the pilot is talking about buying the place and restoring it to its former glory to lure city folk back out into the country. And Zebrina knows what will happen to this ecosystem which is only now starting to knit itself back together.

The end!

Blergh.

So it's a bummer ending, but it's more than that. The apocalyptic ecological devastation doesn't inform enough of the story to make it feel worth it. This could easily be a story of city kids appreciating nature for the first time. There are tons of stories about people falling in love with an area and then watching in horror as developers size it up.

It feels like the "point" of the book is the kids overcoming their internal struggles ... except there's not enough time to watch them learn, struggle, grow, and change. One day Fay is a people pleaser, the next she isn't. One day Sylvie would kill an endangered animal if she thought it might get her parents' attention; the next she wouldn't. It's anticlimactic and also feels like it defeats the purpose of so heavily showcasing their internal struggles.

So, not a great book by any standard. Though perhaps my biggest gripe is that the cover somehow made me think that not only would there be a raccoon, there would be a raccoon friend. But there isn't a single raccoon anywhere in this book. I demand trash pandas!