Some time in the not-too-distant future, everyone in a popular night club in Tokyo committed suicide. Not long after, suicide rates around the world started climbing. Tokyo was only the beginning of a world-wide Despair. Depression, hopelessness: it sends people hurtling from the tops of buildings, dashing in front of trains, swallowing pills, slashing wrists. Your friends, your family - at first people are constantly calling each other, checking that their still alive. After five years, there're aren't many people left in the world. The Despair, as they call the phenomenon, has decimated the human population.
In a small town of four thousand people in Florida, only three remain: Norman, his wife Jordan, and their only neighbour Pops. Returning from the river where he goes fishing, Norman finds his wife has killed herself - and when the eery Collectors come to take her body, Norman refuses to let them have her and kills one of them.
The town is falling back into swampland, there's barely any food to be found or scavenged, and it's only because of the generator and Pops' handy mechanics' knowledge that they've survived so far. Yet the Despair hasn't gripped Norman or Pops yet. With nothing left, Norman starts thinking about the drifter who came through, telling tales of a Dr Briggs in Seattle who had a community of survivors going and was working on a cure.
Norman and Pops set out on a cross-country journey to Seattle, encountering pockets of survivors along the way, some friendly, some dangerous, some flat-out crazy. Kids who were born just before or at the beginning of the Despair, parentless, have banded together to commit merciless atrocities on the few other survivors. A cult in Utah that worships what they call the Source (the source of the Despair), commits ritual suicide, samurai-style. And the Collectors have put a bounty on Norman's head.
Before you start thinking that this is a rip-off of The Road and the movie The Happening combined, Oppegaard started writing this five years ago and it underwent many changes. It does share some similarities, though to be fair road trips are fairly common to the post-apocalyptic fantasy genre - this one is more sci-fi because of its futuristic setting and technological advances, as well as the spooky Collectors and their "source".
There's plenty of mystery here to spice it up and keep you wondering, and that looming helplessness that's more prevalent of sci-fi than fantasy. Some of the encounters, like the Utah cult, reminded me of an even scarier cult in Consider Phlebus (great book by the way), but I don't want you to think that The Suicide Collectors can't and doesn't stand on its own two original feet.
It's also a very visual book, descriptive and very moored in the present of the story. Norman's a likeable guy, and named well: he's very normal. He's also not as well developed as I would have liked, and that's often a flaw of the Quest narrative structure, because plot tends to take precedence - though it should be the other way around, really, because what better way to get to know someone than on a road trip?
Because the world has collapsed due to mass suicide, rather than a war, it's still quite intact, though vegetation is reclaiming its territory. It's also surprisingly clean: a reasonably well-preserved ghost town of a world. Probably the biggest quibble I have is to do with the discontinuation of produced goods - fuel, food etc - and the processing of things like sewage. At times a more advanced technology, like hydrogen cells and a few vehicles that can run on water, helps explain things, but there were other logistics that I thought would have to be impossible because no one's running anything, maintaining anything, making anything, anymore. It's just a quibble.
I'm a big fan of post-apocalyptic fiction, whether it's fantasy or sci-fi: for the questions it raises, and the issues it explores, and the way it strips humans down to their bare essentials, letting us see ourselves without present-day superficialities. With the Despair, perhaps it's because of our innate contempt of suicide, being within our control, that it's hard to fathom a situation where that control is seemingly absent, and be able to empathise - it left me a little cold. I loved The Happening because, well, I don't want to give it away, but it did have an exterior force making things happen. In a way, precisely because the Despair is internal, not inflicted like a virus or a compulsion, it makes it less sympathetic. Does that make sense? It's hard to figure out just what it was that left me somewhat cold.