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Salvation City
From the critically acclaimed author of "The Last of Her Kind", a breakout novel that imagines the aftermath of pandemic flu, as seen through the eyes of a thirteen-year-old boy uncertain of his destiny.
His family's sole survivor after a flu pandemic has killed large numbers of people worldwide, Cole Vining is lucky to have found refuge with the evangelical Pastor Wyatt and his wife in a small town in southern Indiana. As the world outside has grown increasingly anarchic, Salvation City has been spared much of the devastation, and its residents have renewed their preparations for the Rapture.
Grateful for the shelter and love of his foster family (and relieved to have been saved from the horrid, overrun orphanages that have sprung up around the country), Cole begins to form relationships within the larger community. But despite his affection for this place, he struggles with memories of the very different world in which he was reared. Is there room to love both Wyatt and his parents? Are they still his parents if they are no longer there? As others around him grow increasingly fixated on the hope of salvation and the new life to come through the imminent Rapture, Cole begins to conceive of a different future for himself, one in which his own dreams of heroism seem within reach.
Written in Sigrid Nunez's deceptively simple style, "Salvation City" is a story of love, betrayal, and forgiveness, weaving the deeply affecting story of a young boy's transformation with a profound meditation on the meaning of belief and heroism.
His family's sole survivor after a flu pandemic has killed large numbers of people worldwide, Cole Vining is lucky to have found refuge with the evangelical Pastor Wyatt and his wife in a small town in southern Indiana. As the world outside has grown increasingly anarchic, Salvation City has been spared much of the devastation, and its residents have renewed their preparations for the Rapture.
Grateful for the shelter and love of his foster family (and relieved to have been saved from the horrid, overrun orphanages that have sprung up around the country), Cole begins to form relationships within the larger community. But despite his affection for this place, he struggles with memories of the very different world in which he was reared. Is there room to love both Wyatt and his parents? Are they still his parents if they are no longer there? As others around him grow increasingly fixated on the hope of salvation and the new life to come through the imminent Rapture, Cole begins to conceive of a different future for himself, one in which his own dreams of heroism seem within reach.
Written in Sigrid Nunez's deceptively simple style, "Salvation City" is a story of love, betrayal, and forgiveness, weaving the deeply affecting story of a young boy's transformation with a profound meditation on the meaning of belief and heroism.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published September 16, 2010
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1692 people want to read
About the author
Sigrid Nunez
34 books1,782 followersSigrid Nunez has published seven novels, including A Feather on the Breath of God, The Last of Her Kind, Salvation City, and, most recently, The Friend. She is also the author of Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag. Among the journals to which she has contributed are The New York Times, The New York Times Book Review, The Paris Review, Threepenny Review, Harper’s, McSweeney’s, Tin House, and The Believer. Her work has also appeared in several anthologies, including four Pushcart Prize volumes and four anthologies of Asian American literature.
Sigrid’s honors and awards include a Whiting Writer’s Award, a Berlin Prize Fellowship, and two awards from the American Academy of Arts and Letters: the Rosenthal Foundation Award and the Rome Prize in Literature. She has taught at Columbia, Princeton, Boston University, and the New School, and has been a visiting writer or writer in residence at Amherst, Smith, Baruch, Vassar, and the University of California, Irvine, among others. In spring, 2019, she will be visiting writer at Syracuse University. Sigrid has also been on the faculty of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and of several other writers’ conferences across the country. She lives in New York City.
Sigrid’s honors and awards include a Whiting Writer’s Award, a Berlin Prize Fellowship, and two awards from the American Academy of Arts and Letters: the Rosenthal Foundation Award and the Rome Prize in Literature. She has taught at Columbia, Princeton, Boston University, and the New School, and has been a visiting writer or writer in residence at Amherst, Smith, Baruch, Vassar, and the University of California, Irvine, among others. In spring, 2019, she will be visiting writer at Syracuse University. Sigrid has also been on the faculty of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and of several other writers’ conferences across the country. She lives in New York City.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 211 reviews
June 11, 2010
I'm ambivalent about this book, which is why I took a few days before attempting to review it. I didn't dislike it, but I also didn't particularly enjoy reading it.
First of all, I think the book was mis-pitched. I got the galley at the dystopian fiction panel at BEA (indeed, I snagged one of the last copies, so I'm surprised that no one beat me to reviewing it on here). At the panel, Sigrid Nunez spoke about how she enjoyed crafting a language and culture for her new society. But in fact, the world in which Salvation City is set is very much like our own. It appears to take place 5-10 years in the future. Yes, Nunez threw in a few inventive new slang words, but most of the linguistic patterns are identical, and even the technology (iPods, email, video games) seems stuck some time in the noughties. In fact, this futuristic society seems outdated before the book has even published--if teens today rarely use email, why would they in ten years?
The plot itself has potential--a normal kid is orphaned by a plague and adopted onto an evangelical Christian compound--but Nunez doesn't do too much with it. She certainly doesn't do anything dystopic. And, most disappointingly, the plot lacks a driving force, a direction. I finished this book without any sense of fulfillment. If only Nunez had told the story of Cole's life before and during the plague, rather than focusing on the dismal (and bland) aftermath, this could have been a thriller rather than another sleepy rural tale.
First of all, I think the book was mis-pitched. I got the galley at the dystopian fiction panel at BEA (indeed, I snagged one of the last copies, so I'm surprised that no one beat me to reviewing it on here). At the panel, Sigrid Nunez spoke about how she enjoyed crafting a language and culture for her new society. But in fact, the world in which Salvation City is set is very much like our own. It appears to take place 5-10 years in the future. Yes, Nunez threw in a few inventive new slang words, but most of the linguistic patterns are identical, and even the technology (iPods, email, video games) seems stuck some time in the noughties. In fact, this futuristic society seems outdated before the book has even published--if teens today rarely use email, why would they in ten years?
The plot itself has potential--a normal kid is orphaned by a plague and adopted onto an evangelical Christian compound--but Nunez doesn't do too much with it. She certainly doesn't do anything dystopic. And, most disappointingly, the plot lacks a driving force, a direction. I finished this book without any sense of fulfillment. If only Nunez had told the story of Cole's life before and during the plague, rather than focusing on the dismal (and bland) aftermath, this could have been a thriller rather than another sleepy rural tale.
April 22, 2020
Reading this novel when I did - during the COVID-19 pandemic - was a truly uncanny experience. Nunez's fictional pandemic influenza illness bore a striking resemblance to COVID-19, and the consequences for her characters as well as society seemed eerily prophetic. I don't mean to imply that Nunez is a psychic, just an astute observer of how utterly foreseeable our current situation was, given the lack of preparedness and de-prioritization of healthcare and public safety in the U.S.
Overall, I wanted a bit more resolution in the end, a more active role on the part of the protagonist, but Nunez's prose is characteristically engaging, and the details of the pandemic and the crumbling of society depicted with striking realism. Definitely recommend.
Overall, I wanted a bit more resolution in the end, a more active role on the part of the protagonist, but Nunez's prose is characteristically engaging, and the details of the pandemic and the crumbling of society depicted with striking realism. Definitely recommend.
March 30, 2015
Before we get started, let me clarify the two-star rating....Salvation City is not poorly written, has believable characters in believable situations, and is an interesting way to spend several hours. But ultimately -- and given the way Goodreads' ratings criteria are defined -- two stars and "it was okay" is all the enthusiasm I can muster. I'd read a three-star "I liked it" book again. I have no desire to read this one again.
In the near future, 12-year-old Cole Vining has been orphaned by a flu pandemic more devastating than the 1918 outbreak. After a stint in the hellhole of a public orphanage, he is taken in by Pastor Wyatt and his wife Tracy and brought back to Salvation City, Kentucky, the small evangelical Christian enclave where they live. The overt religiosity of his new surroundings is completely foreign to Cole: his father was an atheist and his mother was a non-practicing Jew; as a result, Cole has had no religious training whatsoever. Emotionally fragile after his own illness and loss, in this new atmosphere, Cole questions everything his parents had ever taught him about the world.
Cole suffered memory loss as a result of his illness and, as his memories gradually return, he wrestles with a multitude of overwhelming emotions: loss, anger, bewilderment, confusion...but chiefly guilt. He feels guilty he survived, guilty he can't return the obvious love Pastor Wyatt and Tracy express for him, guilty and disloyal at feeling any kind of affection for them, guilty for wondering if his parents went to Hell as his new knowledge of religion teaches. On top of all this, he has entered puberty with its attendant urges and feelings, and he develops an unrequited crush on his cousin-by-adoption Starlyn. Cole's journey through this morass of guilt and emotion to arrive at a peaceful self-understanding and sense of place is well-drawn and satisfying.
Again, this is not a bad book, and not a waste of time. The pacing is leisurely, almost majestic. It's beautifully written, with a spare elegance and delicate touch. Nunez portrays the fundamentalist Christian community with grace and compassion, seeing it almost entirely through Cole's adolescent eyes. I enjoyed reading it, but not enough to keep it around for a re-read.
Many thanks to Goodreads Giveaway Program for the opportunity to read this book.
In the near future, 12-year-old Cole Vining has been orphaned by a flu pandemic more devastating than the 1918 outbreak. After a stint in the hellhole of a public orphanage, he is taken in by Pastor Wyatt and his wife Tracy and brought back to Salvation City, Kentucky, the small evangelical Christian enclave where they live. The overt religiosity of his new surroundings is completely foreign to Cole: his father was an atheist and his mother was a non-practicing Jew; as a result, Cole has had no religious training whatsoever. Emotionally fragile after his own illness and loss, in this new atmosphere, Cole questions everything his parents had ever taught him about the world.
Cole suffered memory loss as a result of his illness and, as his memories gradually return, he wrestles with a multitude of overwhelming emotions: loss, anger, bewilderment, confusion...but chiefly guilt. He feels guilty he survived, guilty he can't return the obvious love Pastor Wyatt and Tracy express for him, guilty and disloyal at feeling any kind of affection for them, guilty for wondering if his parents went to Hell as his new knowledge of religion teaches. On top of all this, he has entered puberty with its attendant urges and feelings, and he develops an unrequited crush on his cousin-by-adoption Starlyn. Cole's journey through this morass of guilt and emotion to arrive at a peaceful self-understanding and sense of place is well-drawn and satisfying.
Again, this is not a bad book, and not a waste of time. The pacing is leisurely, almost majestic. It's beautifully written, with a spare elegance and delicate touch. Nunez portrays the fundamentalist Christian community with grace and compassion, seeing it almost entirely through Cole's adolescent eyes. I enjoyed reading it, but not enough to keep it around for a re-read.
Many thanks to Goodreads Giveaway Program for the opportunity to read this book.
March 27, 2022
Okay, clearly, Nunez is a modern-day Cassandra.
Salvation City depicts an incredibly accurate America during a pandemic, receives remarkably bad reader reviews (here at least), and is mostly ignored ... until 2020. (How weird is it to read about 2020 in a novel published in 2011? Very weird, indeed.)
In Nunez's dystopia, the flu is the virus raging across the globe--a much more deadly variant than Covid. And while the death totals are never given, the numbers are far higher than what we experienced these past two years. (It's honestly another reason this book is interesting--given how accurate her depictions are, it's not hard to suppose that if the death rates had been higher like this novel, we would have seen many other parts of this book ring true.)
Want to get creeped out a bit by an author's incredible intuition? Look no further:
On the early stages of the pandemic: "It's not just a question of beds. There's not enough linen, not enough gloves, gowns, hypodermic needles, disinfectant, meds, you name it. Not enough ambulances, not enough ventilators or other equipment."
On vaccines: "A new vaccine is still perhaps a month or so away. Then we'll be faced with the tremendous challenge of manufacturing the large quantity of doses needed and organizing for mass vaccinations."
AND "... the number of people who declared themselves dead set against any vaccine the government came up with was steadily growing."
On American politics: "This disaster proves what some of us have been saying about America all along: everything is broken."
On the virus's origins: "No, not bioterrorism, others said, but a virus that had escaped from a laboratory."
And perhaps the most BOOM quote yet: "Why did every other advanced country get through the pandemic better than the U.S.?"
(Though the word "advanced" makes me squirm.)
All that said, here's the thing: I gave this book five stars for Nunez's incredibly accurate portrayal of dystopian America. But did I enjoy reading Salvation City?
Sometimes.
For the first third, it was fascinating seeing all the similarities, but it wasn't particularly pleasurable. None of the characters are likable. Even Cole, our child protagonist, doesn't get a hero's paint of the brush. And this is on purpose. There's an underlying theme in this novel about what makes a hero--and how so many Americans SEE THEMSELVES as the hero, when it's just so likely they'll be scared little shits, living selfishly until the end. I believe this is also accurate, but let me stress: THIS DOES NOT MAKE FOR FUN READING.
Cole reminded me of some students I've taught. The kind of student who hates reading. Hates doing things he's told to do. The kind of student who's been told all his life that he's special by his over-privileged parents. (Has Nunez taught school?) And, yeah, it's really not Cole's fault he's this way, but I like to NOT think about work while reading and, here, that concept smacked me in the face a lot. Cole doesn't do the right things--he's rather awful to his mom and father even when they're dying. And he doesn't stand up for the bullied kids--even though he fantasizes he's the superhero of his comics. He's not kind and he's not endearing. He's realistic.
Also: Let's talk about plot for minute. Here's where I felt the urge to downvote this book. A lot of the novel is told in backstory. I can guess why Nunez decided to write this way, but it makes the story, on the whole, less compelling. Anyone who picks this up might think of The Road or Station Eleven or The Parable of the Sower, and compare Salvation City unfavorably. (Hence the low ratings here, I would bet.) This book is definitely NOT like them. And for reader enjoyment? That's a loss.
Salvation City depicts an incredibly accurate America during a pandemic, receives remarkably bad reader reviews (here at least), and is mostly ignored ... until 2020. (How weird is it to read about 2020 in a novel published in 2011? Very weird, indeed.)
In Nunez's dystopia, the flu is the virus raging across the globe--a much more deadly variant than Covid. And while the death totals are never given, the numbers are far higher than what we experienced these past two years. (It's honestly another reason this book is interesting--given how accurate her depictions are, it's not hard to suppose that if the death rates had been higher like this novel, we would have seen many other parts of this book ring true.)
Want to get creeped out a bit by an author's incredible intuition? Look no further:
On the early stages of the pandemic: "It's not just a question of beds. There's not enough linen, not enough gloves, gowns, hypodermic needles, disinfectant, meds, you name it. Not enough ambulances, not enough ventilators or other equipment."
On vaccines: "A new vaccine is still perhaps a month or so away. Then we'll be faced with the tremendous challenge of manufacturing the large quantity of doses needed and organizing for mass vaccinations."
AND "... the number of people who declared themselves dead set against any vaccine the government came up with was steadily growing."
On American politics: "This disaster proves what some of us have been saying about America all along: everything is broken."
On the virus's origins: "No, not bioterrorism, others said, but a virus that had escaped from a laboratory."
And perhaps the most BOOM quote yet: "Why did every other advanced country get through the pandemic better than the U.S.?"
(Though the word "advanced" makes me squirm.)
All that said, here's the thing: I gave this book five stars for Nunez's incredibly accurate portrayal of dystopian America. But did I enjoy reading Salvation City?
Sometimes.
For the first third, it was fascinating seeing all the similarities, but it wasn't particularly pleasurable. None of the characters are likable. Even Cole, our child protagonist, doesn't get a hero's paint of the brush. And this is on purpose. There's an underlying theme in this novel about what makes a hero--and how so many Americans SEE THEMSELVES as the hero, when it's just so likely they'll be scared little shits, living selfishly until the end. I believe this is also accurate, but let me stress: THIS DOES NOT MAKE FOR FUN READING.
Cole reminded me of some students I've taught. The kind of student who hates reading. Hates doing things he's told to do. The kind of student who's been told all his life that he's special by his over-privileged parents. (Has Nunez taught school?) And, yeah, it's really not Cole's fault he's this way, but I like to NOT think about work while reading and, here, that concept smacked me in the face a lot. Cole doesn't do the right things--he's rather awful to his mom and father even when they're dying. And he doesn't stand up for the bullied kids--even though he fantasizes he's the superhero of his comics. He's not kind and he's not endearing. He's realistic.
Also: Let's talk about plot for minute. Here's where I felt the urge to downvote this book. A lot of the novel is told in backstory. I can guess why Nunez decided to write this way, but it makes the story, on the whole, less compelling. Anyone who picks this up might think of The Road or Station Eleven or The Parable of the Sower, and compare Salvation City unfavorably. (Hence the low ratings here, I would bet.) This book is definitely NOT like them. And for reader enjoyment? That's a loss.
February 23, 2011
Just to be clear: this is really a four star book, but it's been so under-rated that I felt the need to over-rate it. It's much closer to 5 than to 2, or even 1, as many people rate it.
Continuing the clarity: this is not the second coming of the Jericho TV series or McCarthy's 'The Road,' or any other post-apocalyptic thrill ride. It's a lot like a Marilynne Robinson novel. Like Gilead, it's beautifully written and doesn't resort to contemporary prose cliches like verb-less sentences and so on. In fact, the best thing about this book in my opinion is the narrative voice that she constructs. Mainly it's perfectly clear and controlled, but whenever a superlative is called for, the voice starts to sound more like a teenager's (which the protagonist is). It's odd the first couple of times, but quickly seems natural, even perfect.
That aside, this is basically a coming of age novel set in a world that is itself coming of age in a very traumatic way, full of great characters and an intelligent depiction of post-Culture Wars America. Cole's parents are knee-jerk liberals, then he's adopted by knee-jerk religious conservatives. He lives with the stupidities and kindnesses of both groups. Can he move past the stupidities and retain the kindnesses?
Literary Criticism alert! Plot spoilers! Danger below!
Although only English majors will care, I have a hunch that this is meant to be an allegory for America. As I said, Cole is coming of age; he was born of liberals, like the U.S.A.; he grows up with conservatives, like the U.S.A.; it's unclear whether he'll manage to synthesize them or move past them or develop into something new himself. The book does end on a hopeful note, but it's certainly not an overwhelming hope. In any case, this book will reward close readers as well as people looking for a good emotional roller-coaster and insights into the process of growing up.
Continuing the clarity: this is not the second coming of the Jericho TV series or McCarthy's 'The Road,' or any other post-apocalyptic thrill ride. It's a lot like a Marilynne Robinson novel. Like Gilead, it's beautifully written and doesn't resort to contemporary prose cliches like verb-less sentences and so on. In fact, the best thing about this book in my opinion is the narrative voice that she constructs. Mainly it's perfectly clear and controlled, but whenever a superlative is called for, the voice starts to sound more like a teenager's (which the protagonist is). It's odd the first couple of times, but quickly seems natural, even perfect.
That aside, this is basically a coming of age novel set in a world that is itself coming of age in a very traumatic way, full of great characters and an intelligent depiction of post-Culture Wars America. Cole's parents are knee-jerk liberals, then he's adopted by knee-jerk religious conservatives. He lives with the stupidities and kindnesses of both groups. Can he move past the stupidities and retain the kindnesses?
Literary Criticism alert! Plot spoilers! Danger below!
Although only English majors will care, I have a hunch that this is meant to be an allegory for America. As I said, Cole is coming of age; he was born of liberals, like the U.S.A.; he grows up with conservatives, like the U.S.A.; it's unclear whether he'll manage to synthesize them or move past them or develop into something new himself. The book does end on a hopeful note, but it's certainly not an overwhelming hope. In any case, this book will reward close readers as well as people looking for a good emotional roller-coaster and insights into the process of growing up.
February 27, 2014
Salvation City is a coming of age tale that is complicated by far more than the usual adolescent angst. Thirteen year old Cole has lost both parents to a flu pandemic and nearly dies himself. The pandemic has ripped apart the US, leaving massive death and infrastructure collapse with little help of any sort to be found.
Having lost his family, home and all of his possessions, Cole ends up initially in an orphanage, and then is eventually placed with an evangelical family in the tiny town of Salvation City, Indiana. Nunez does a beautiful job of depicting both fundamental christianity and staunch atheism without demonizing either side; and while her characters heatedly argue about this very issue, she portrays them gracefully. She illustrates how there can be humanity on both sides.
Miles away (both physically and culturally) from his family of origin, Cole becomes simply an observer in his own life; so confused is he about the turn his life has taken. He finally finds his own voice only after a crisis looms in Salvation City (which may portend the end of the world ... or perhaps not). Full of small moments that are quiet, dark, sweet, bitter, harrowing, breathless, joyful, or just plain sad, the story unfolds as Cole begins to understand, or at least have an inkling about, his own life.
Impeccably written, Salvation City is a wonder.
Having lost his family, home and all of his possessions, Cole ends up initially in an orphanage, and then is eventually placed with an evangelical family in the tiny town of Salvation City, Indiana. Nunez does a beautiful job of depicting both fundamental christianity and staunch atheism without demonizing either side; and while her characters heatedly argue about this very issue, she portrays them gracefully. She illustrates how there can be humanity on both sides.
Miles away (both physically and culturally) from his family of origin, Cole becomes simply an observer in his own life; so confused is he about the turn his life has taken. He finally finds his own voice only after a crisis looms in Salvation City (which may portend the end of the world ... or perhaps not). Full of small moments that are quiet, dark, sweet, bitter, harrowing, breathless, joyful, or just plain sad, the story unfolds as Cole begins to understand, or at least have an inkling about, his own life.
Impeccably written, Salvation City is a wonder.
August 1, 2010
I received a proof copy of the book, and it is pretty near nothing as far as plot goes, and the genre is cloudy—is it supposed to be a Christian novel or what? The book is pretty clear about the scenario—sometime after a flu pandemic in the future—however, the book is heavy on the religious philosophy and lightweight on the medical research (think Tess Gerritsen, Kathy Reichs, etc.), but nothing happens. Cole, the main character, is almost 14 which is believable only occasionally. The setting in a fundamentalist Christian community seemed farfetched and unrealistic—but there’s nothing much about the community except one tour of the town and the mention of a few neighbors. Basically, the kid matures enough to take the best from his atheistic background and the best from the fundamentalist home and imagines a future life for himself. Maybe I missed the point. Anyway, it’s a thumbs down from me.
April 17, 2021
As I’m sure others have pointed out, reading this during covid has been like reading bizarre correspondence from rustbelt America (albeit without any mention of vaccines). I think to understand the value of this work, however, requires thinking of it not as a plague novel but instead as a coming-of-age story where Cole, the protagonist, finds himself struggling between the worldview he knows from pre-pandemic times, and the one he’s thrown into after the pandemic hits.
The specific setting for this ideological struggle (which, let’s just say it, is religion vs atheism) is a pandemic-stricken America; however this story could have taken place just as easily in regular, everyday small-town USA. That’s why I think it’s useful to think of this as coming-of-age fiction rather than dystopian fiction. The dystopia represented in the novel doesn’t require a pandemic: wealth disparity and inequitable access to healthcare are not features that emerged in Nunez’s fictional pandemic any more than they did in our real-world pandemic. Cole’s struggle is a struggle that is playing out in the hearts and minds of millions of Americans. By the end of the novel I was left feeling optimistic. To be completely frank, I don’t yet feel the same sense of optimism in our real-world analog.
The specific setting for this ideological struggle (which, let’s just say it, is religion vs atheism) is a pandemic-stricken America; however this story could have taken place just as easily in regular, everyday small-town USA. That’s why I think it’s useful to think of this as coming-of-age fiction rather than dystopian fiction. The dystopia represented in the novel doesn’t require a pandemic: wealth disparity and inequitable access to healthcare are not features that emerged in Nunez’s fictional pandemic any more than they did in our real-world pandemic. Cole’s struggle is a struggle that is playing out in the hearts and minds of millions of Americans. By the end of the novel I was left feeling optimistic. To be completely frank, I don’t yet feel the same sense of optimism in our real-world analog.
September 9, 2010
8/23/10 I got another advanced copy!!!
9/08/10 I hated this book. It was told from the honest opinion of a 14(ish) orphan who recently lost his parents in a flu pandemic. When I first read about the book I thought that that was a small part of the plot but it was the entire plot. Nothing else really happened. It was very simple and honest... a little too intimate actually. AND REAL! I am so freaked about a flu pandemic now... lol... That said, I cant believe I wasted 3 days of my life reading things that freaked me out so much. AND, it bothered me SO MUCH that the time setting was probably between 2006-2008 (because they talked about Katrina from 2005 and Michael Jackson who died in 2009). This bothered me because it was a major distraction. How could I believe this horrible thing could happen in the near future if in the book it happened in the past? AND worst of all the boy (whose parents were athiest) is placed with a pastor who homeschools him... with the bible. So, this clearly was not my book.
9/08/10 I hated this book. It was told from the honest opinion of a 14(ish) orphan who recently lost his parents in a flu pandemic. When I first read about the book I thought that that was a small part of the plot but it was the entire plot. Nothing else really happened. It was very simple and honest... a little too intimate actually. AND REAL! I am so freaked about a flu pandemic now... lol... That said, I cant believe I wasted 3 days of my life reading things that freaked me out so much. AND, it bothered me SO MUCH that the time setting was probably between 2006-2008 (because they talked about Katrina from 2005 and Michael Jackson who died in 2009). This bothered me because it was a major distraction. How could I believe this horrible thing could happen in the near future if in the book it happened in the past? AND worst of all the boy (whose parents were athiest) is placed with a pastor who homeschools him... with the bible. So, this clearly was not my book.
December 28, 2022
Nunez hat diesen post-apokalyptischen, post-pandemischen Roman 2010 veröffentlicht. Im Zentrum steht der jugendliche Cole Vining in den USA einer unbestimmten nahen Zukunft, der aus einer fiktiven und verheerenden Grippe-Pandemie als Waise hervorgeht und von einem evangelikalen Ehepaar in der titelgebenden Salvation City aufgenommen wird. Die Pandemie und Coles Hintergrund in einer liberalen Akademikerfamilie werden in Rückblenden, zum Teil Erinnerungen erzählt, der Gegensatz zu seiner jetzigen christlichistischen Umgebung eingebettet in die erwachende Selbstreflexion eines Teenagers.
Das Set-up steht ganz in der Tradition literarischer Annahmen für solch ein Szenario; wir wissen durch Corona, wie eine Pandemie tatsächlich verläuft und welche der Topoi falsch sind - das macht den Roman abseits seiner literarischen Qualitäten spannend.
"Dachte immer, Apokalypse geht schneller", twitterte @Hoellenaufsicht vor einem Jahr.
Das war vor Corona zum Beispiel eine verbreitete Fehlannahme, die sich auch in Salvation City zeigt. In den Rückblicken auf die fiktive Pandemie überschlagen sich die Ereignisse, Chaos und Tod zerstören innerhalb weniger Wochen den zivilisatorischen Zusammenhalt. Und an einem Punkt, über den sich alle einig sind, ist die Seuche vorbei. Wir haben über all das gelernt: Nö.
Die Grippewelle entvölkert in Salvation City ganze Landstriche - und löscht nicht etwa bestimmte Risikigruppen aus. Entvölkerte und verlassene Gegenden gab es nicht mal in Bergamo oder in Spanien, auch nicht in New York, wo tatsächlich vor lauter Toten Kühl-Container an den Krankenhäusern nötig waren. Es ging eben nicht sehr schnell, es gab keine Scharen von Waisenkindern, die notdürftig und menschenunwürdig versorgt werden mussten. Statt dessen gab es im Gegensatz zum Roman tatsächliche totale Lock-downs, nicht nur in Diktaturen, sondern mit Einverständnis der Bevölkerung auch in Demokratien wie Spanien oder Chile.
Was in diesem und allen gewohnten apokalyptischen fiktionalen Szenarien fehlt: Der Humor. In Salvation City sind alle so betroffen und besorgt, dass niemand blöde Witze macht. Was tatsächlich gleichzeitig mit echter Betroffenheit und Sorge eintrat: Die Menschen scherzten über die Situation, es gab sofort zahllose Memes.
Ebenfalls außerhalb der fiktiven Vorstellungswelt: Dass es unterschiedliche wissenschaftliche Analysen gab, die aus denselben Fakten durch verschiedene Gewichtung verschiedene Schlüsse zogen. Womit vor allem wissenschaftsferne Menschen massive Probleme hatten. In Salvation City ist implizit klar, dass die Wissenschaft sich über die Einordnung und die daraus abgeleiteten Maßnahmen einig ist.
Wie ich waren viele schon bei Beginn der SARS-Cov-2-Pandemie gespannt, welche Auswirkung diese Realität auf das Genre in Literatur und Film haben würden (auch etwas, was nicht in dem Roman vorkommt). Meine Prognose (und ich bin mindestens so schlecht darin wie jede*r sonst): Die gewohnten Stereotypen, Topoi und Tropen in künftigen fiktiven post-apokalyptischen Szenarien sind stärker als unsere tatsächlichen Erlebnisse. In ein paar Jahren werden entsprechende Filme und Romane aussehen wie zuvor.
Das Set-up steht ganz in der Tradition literarischer Annahmen für solch ein Szenario; wir wissen durch Corona, wie eine Pandemie tatsächlich verläuft und welche der Topoi falsch sind - das macht den Roman abseits seiner literarischen Qualitäten spannend.
"Dachte immer, Apokalypse geht schneller", twitterte @Hoellenaufsicht vor einem Jahr.
Das war vor Corona zum Beispiel eine verbreitete Fehlannahme, die sich auch in Salvation City zeigt. In den Rückblicken auf die fiktive Pandemie überschlagen sich die Ereignisse, Chaos und Tod zerstören innerhalb weniger Wochen den zivilisatorischen Zusammenhalt. Und an einem Punkt, über den sich alle einig sind, ist die Seuche vorbei. Wir haben über all das gelernt: Nö.
Die Grippewelle entvölkert in Salvation City ganze Landstriche - und löscht nicht etwa bestimmte Risikigruppen aus. Entvölkerte und verlassene Gegenden gab es nicht mal in Bergamo oder in Spanien, auch nicht in New York, wo tatsächlich vor lauter Toten Kühl-Container an den Krankenhäusern nötig waren. Es ging eben nicht sehr schnell, es gab keine Scharen von Waisenkindern, die notdürftig und menschenunwürdig versorgt werden mussten. Statt dessen gab es im Gegensatz zum Roman tatsächliche totale Lock-downs, nicht nur in Diktaturen, sondern mit Einverständnis der Bevölkerung auch in Demokratien wie Spanien oder Chile.
Was in diesem und allen gewohnten apokalyptischen fiktionalen Szenarien fehlt: Der Humor. In Salvation City sind alle so betroffen und besorgt, dass niemand blöde Witze macht. Was tatsächlich gleichzeitig mit echter Betroffenheit und Sorge eintrat: Die Menschen scherzten über die Situation, es gab sofort zahllose Memes.
Ebenfalls außerhalb der fiktiven Vorstellungswelt: Dass es unterschiedliche wissenschaftliche Analysen gab, die aus denselben Fakten durch verschiedene Gewichtung verschiedene Schlüsse zogen. Womit vor allem wissenschaftsferne Menschen massive Probleme hatten. In Salvation City ist implizit klar, dass die Wissenschaft sich über die Einordnung und die daraus abgeleiteten Maßnahmen einig ist.
Wie ich waren viele schon bei Beginn der SARS-Cov-2-Pandemie gespannt, welche Auswirkung diese Realität auf das Genre in Literatur und Film haben würden (auch etwas, was nicht in dem Roman vorkommt). Meine Prognose (und ich bin mindestens so schlecht darin wie jede*r sonst): Die gewohnten Stereotypen, Topoi und Tropen in künftigen fiktiven post-apokalyptischen Szenarien sind stärker als unsere tatsächlichen Erlebnisse. In ein paar Jahren werden entsprechende Filme und Romane aussehen wie zuvor.
September 29, 2020
I just discovered this review in my blog, written ten years ago. I've now re-read the book, which seems strangely prescient of the world we live in today. I thought my 2010 review might be interesting.
--------------------------
(FROM MY BLOG, Oct. 17, 2010) A new strain of flu, a world-wide pandemic, a death rate apparently exceeding that of 1918-19: No one should have been surprised, but no one was prepared. Moreover, this influenza virus frequently attacked the brain, leaving survivors with varying degrees of brain damage and memory loss.
The government was crippled -- the American president herself suffering from memory loss -- but continued to function. Goods and services were in short supply. As in earlier troubled times, people turned inward, seeking fulfillment within themselves rather than in consumerism. Christian fundamentalism thrived. Many concluded that the last days were upon us. Believers awaited the "rapture," the Second Coming, the Last Judgment.
This is the setting for Sigrid Nunez's sixth novel, Salvation City, the coming of age story of an intelligent youth named Cole, during the months before and after his fourteenth birthday. Cole -- the son of nonreligious Chicago professionals ("he'd been raised to believe religion was for retards") -- regains consciousness in an orphanage, after being severely ill, and learns that his parents have died. Eventually, he meets Pastor Wyatt and his wife who take him to their home in "Salvation City," a small, evangelical community in Indiana. His world is turned upside down. His parents had always lived in nervous fear of death; in his new community, on the other hand, everyone was eager to join Christ -- any moment now -- in His heavenly kingdom.
The story is told from Cole's point of view, with flashbacks to his earlier life as he gradually regains those memories.
All the ingredients seem available for a formulaic science fiction adventure. But Nunez understands that for any 13-year-old, in any society, the world he faces is always baffling, scary, turbulent -- but also exhilarating. To an intelligent boy growing up, say, during the decline and fall of Rome, great historical trends like barbarian incursions at the frontiers of empire, debasement of the currency, and the decay of domestic government would not have been among his primary concerns. Like boys of every age, his daily thoughts would have centered on his first love, his need to establish an identity apart from his parents, his search for vocation, his desire to find meaning in the universe.
Nunez's story is primarily about a boy's discovery of himself. The pandemic is the backdrop.
Even before the pandemic struck, Cole had been separating himself emotionally from his parents, especially after he discovered that his mom was making plans to leave his father. Silent and withdrawn, in the throes of adolescence, Cole was intelligent and observant and a gifted artist (drawings and graphic stories), but a bored student, an academic underachiever.
Cole's hostile response to the adult world represented by his parents is challenged by the warm Christian environment he encounters in Indiana. Nunez neither ridicules nor idealizes this less sophisticated world. Pastor Wyatt is conservative theologically, but loving toward everyone. He displays a full understanding of -- and sympathy for -- human weaknesses. He does not share the excitement of many in his flock that the"rapture" is imminent, and he reminds them repeatedly that their task is to live Christian lives, whether the world ends tomorrow or far into the indefinite future. His love and that of his wife for Cole, who becomes the son they were unable to have themselves, is touching and convincing beyond doubt.
Cole learns much about himself, about other people, and about the search for God while living in Salvation City. He falls in love with an older girl, and learns about heartbreak. He learns that even the best of adults have their own weaknesses, just as he does himself. He gains confidence in his artistic abilities. He learns to shoot a gun, despite his dislike of hunting or even fishing, realizing that, in the more dangerous post-pandemic world, an adult who does not know how to defend himself is at the mercy of others. He learns compassion for his parents, some degree of understanding for their problems, and regret they died still stinging from his rejection.
But he suspects that, even after all the Bible study that he has done together with the Pastor, he doesn't really possess the same strong faith as do the Pastor and the others in Salvation City. Too often in his prayers, he feels he is speaking only to the air or to himself.
Also, he realizes that his education before the pandemic was mediocre, and that his home schooling by the Pastor's poorly educated wife has been a disaster. Watching TV, he learns of a highly selective school in Washington, D.C., attended by bright students who -- unlike himself when attending public schools -- are neither bored by their studies nor bullied by their fellow students. He is overwhelmed by envy.
Always quiet, always withdrawn, Cole slowly decides that the folks in Salvation City are wrong about at least one thing: the world is not about to end. He doesn't reject the religious training the Pastor has provided -- he is more than willing to reserve judgment about questions of faith -- but he strongly feels the need to learn and to experience much more than he can ever learn or experience in Salvation City. He has a long life ahead; he's excited about living it. He begins making plans to leave.
And he is finding himself. Cole is growing up.
--------------------------
(FROM MY BLOG, Oct. 17, 2010) A new strain of flu, a world-wide pandemic, a death rate apparently exceeding that of 1918-19: No one should have been surprised, but no one was prepared. Moreover, this influenza virus frequently attacked the brain, leaving survivors with varying degrees of brain damage and memory loss.
The government was crippled -- the American president herself suffering from memory loss -- but continued to function. Goods and services were in short supply. As in earlier troubled times, people turned inward, seeking fulfillment within themselves rather than in consumerism. Christian fundamentalism thrived. Many concluded that the last days were upon us. Believers awaited the "rapture," the Second Coming, the Last Judgment.
This is the setting for Sigrid Nunez's sixth novel, Salvation City, the coming of age story of an intelligent youth named Cole, during the months before and after his fourteenth birthday. Cole -- the son of nonreligious Chicago professionals ("he'd been raised to believe religion was for retards") -- regains consciousness in an orphanage, after being severely ill, and learns that his parents have died. Eventually, he meets Pastor Wyatt and his wife who take him to their home in "Salvation City," a small, evangelical community in Indiana. His world is turned upside down. His parents had always lived in nervous fear of death; in his new community, on the other hand, everyone was eager to join Christ -- any moment now -- in His heavenly kingdom.
The story is told from Cole's point of view, with flashbacks to his earlier life as he gradually regains those memories.
All the ingredients seem available for a formulaic science fiction adventure. But Nunez understands that for any 13-year-old, in any society, the world he faces is always baffling, scary, turbulent -- but also exhilarating. To an intelligent boy growing up, say, during the decline and fall of Rome, great historical trends like barbarian incursions at the frontiers of empire, debasement of the currency, and the decay of domestic government would not have been among his primary concerns. Like boys of every age, his daily thoughts would have centered on his first love, his need to establish an identity apart from his parents, his search for vocation, his desire to find meaning in the universe.
Nunez's story is primarily about a boy's discovery of himself. The pandemic is the backdrop.
Even before the pandemic struck, Cole had been separating himself emotionally from his parents, especially after he discovered that his mom was making plans to leave his father. Silent and withdrawn, in the throes of adolescence, Cole was intelligent and observant and a gifted artist (drawings and graphic stories), but a bored student, an academic underachiever.
Cole's hostile response to the adult world represented by his parents is challenged by the warm Christian environment he encounters in Indiana. Nunez neither ridicules nor idealizes this less sophisticated world. Pastor Wyatt is conservative theologically, but loving toward everyone. He displays a full understanding of -- and sympathy for -- human weaknesses. He does not share the excitement of many in his flock that the"rapture" is imminent, and he reminds them repeatedly that their task is to live Christian lives, whether the world ends tomorrow or far into the indefinite future. His love and that of his wife for Cole, who becomes the son they were unable to have themselves, is touching and convincing beyond doubt.
Cole learns much about himself, about other people, and about the search for God while living in Salvation City. He falls in love with an older girl, and learns about heartbreak. He learns that even the best of adults have their own weaknesses, just as he does himself. He gains confidence in his artistic abilities. He learns to shoot a gun, despite his dislike of hunting or even fishing, realizing that, in the more dangerous post-pandemic world, an adult who does not know how to defend himself is at the mercy of others. He learns compassion for his parents, some degree of understanding for their problems, and regret they died still stinging from his rejection.
But he suspects that, even after all the Bible study that he has done together with the Pastor, he doesn't really possess the same strong faith as do the Pastor and the others in Salvation City. Too often in his prayers, he feels he is speaking only to the air or to himself.
Also, he realizes that his education before the pandemic was mediocre, and that his home schooling by the Pastor's poorly educated wife has been a disaster. Watching TV, he learns of a highly selective school in Washington, D.C., attended by bright students who -- unlike himself when attending public schools -- are neither bored by their studies nor bullied by their fellow students. He is overwhelmed by envy.
A huge misunderstanding had been allowed to take place. Why hadn't anyone seen that just because he hated school didn't mean he was lazy and dumb? It was unfair; it was a mistake. Somehow it must be corrected. If not, he would grow up to be something worse than an underachiever. He would grow up stupid, an ignoramus.If he spent his life in the comforting world of Salvation City, he realizes, he would always be considered an uneducated bumpkin. Maybe bright kids, like those on the TV show, wouldn't bully him, but he knew that, as he was now, they'd never want him for a friend. "They would ignore him. Maybe even feel sorry for him. The one thing worse than bullying."
Always quiet, always withdrawn, Cole slowly decides that the folks in Salvation City are wrong about at least one thing: the world is not about to end. He doesn't reject the religious training the Pastor has provided -- he is more than willing to reserve judgment about questions of faith -- but he strongly feels the need to learn and to experience much more than he can ever learn or experience in Salvation City. He has a long life ahead; he's excited about living it. He begins making plans to leave.
He knew the things he wanted now he wanted badly enough that nothing would stop him. It was only for a little while longer that his place was here. He knew that he would stay, and then, when the time came, he would go away. He did not know if he would return.He is speaking about residence in Salvation City. He also is speaking metaphorically about his life on earth.
And he is finding himself. Cole is growing up.
February 6, 2024
This book was published in 2010 but is absolutely lasered in on the COVID pandemic. With the passage of a decade, it has become a beautiful rendering of coming of age during a time of great upheaval, giving voice to the many Coles living among us who have lost one or both parents, who have missed school, who are made pawns in the culture clashes lurking all around them, and who have all of the usual adolescent issues to deal with to boot.
The writing is incredible, a rare instance of a juvenile voice portrayed so well that I never detected a false adult note. The cultural differences are portrayed with fairness and sensitivity, without demonizing either side. Cole is left to bridge the gaps and forge his own way.
Users giving bad reviews seem to have expected a different book. Perhaps it was marketed poorly. It certainly should not have a science fiction tag here on Goodreads.
The writing is incredible, a rare instance of a juvenile voice portrayed so well that I never detected a false adult note. The cultural differences are portrayed with fairness and sensitivity, without demonizing either side. Cole is left to bridge the gaps and forge his own way.
Users giving bad reviews seem to have expected a different book. Perhaps it was marketed poorly. It certainly should not have a science fiction tag here on Goodreads.
November 19, 2020
Nunez has become my new favorite writer. She develops characters beautifully and always makes me want to read more. The plot of this book is bizarrely apropos for the moment, but not just because of the obvious pandemic theme. She also manages to create both “red state” and “blue state” characters who reflect a deep sense of humanity in all its complications and contradictions.
May 12, 2024
For a book published in 2010, set in a world decimated by a new flu strain, this was made more interesting in terms of what it got right about the COVID-19 pandemic. However, I could have easily just not read it.
December 27, 2021
Wow! A prescient coming of age novel, post a previous pandemic. Recommended
May 23, 2022
Pastor Wyatt is not afraid of dying. “That’s my job in a nutshell. I’ve got to teach people not to be afraid. We’re all going to die, that’s for certain. And the thing for folks to do is stop wasting their energy being all headless and fearful like a herd of spooked cattle.”
Cole hopes to go around the world one day. One of his favorite words is explorer. During the pandemic people weren’t allowed to travel anywhere unless they absolutely had to, and even now it’s not the way it was before. There aren’t as many airplanes. There aren’t as many buses or trains, and there aren’t as many cars on the highways.
Plans to keep public transportation and electricity and telecommunications and other vital services operating and food and water and other necessities from running out. Plans to mobilize troops (for Cole this was the only exciting part) in the event of mass panic or violence. One day he would ask Pastor Wyatt why, despite all these plans, everything had gone so wrong. “Son, that is just the thing. That is what people did not—and still do not—get. There is no way you can count on the government, even if it’s a very good government. The government isn’t going to save you, it isn’t going to save anyone. There’s no way you can count on other people in a situation like we had. People afraid of losing their lives—or, Lord knows, even just their toys—they’ll panic. Even fine, decent Christian folk—you can never know for sure what they’ll do next. So I say, love your neighbor, help your fellow man all you can, but don’t ever count on any other human being. Count on God.”
Was he sure only his mother was Jewish? Then what was his father’s religion? Atheist. Well, atheism wasn’t a religion. It was the opposite of religion, the belief that there was no God. He knew that. So his dad was an atheist, but his mom was a Jew? They were both atheists. And would it be correct to say that’s what he was raised to believe, too? That there was no God and that all religion was wrong? He’d been raised to believe religion was for retards. He’d been raised to believe people who were religious did more harm than good. He’d been raised to believe that God was a myth, that religion screwed up everything, that a person didn’t have to be religious in order to be a good person, that religious education of children was a kind of child abuse, and that if God did exist he’d have to be an atheist, too.
Cole wanted to know, though he knew no one could ever tell him, if somehow, at the moment you died, you understood what was happening to you.
He has no idea how much of the Bible either of his parents had read, but he knows that the things that are sacred in Salvation City were never important to them. What Jesus said on the cross, what happened to the preborn, these were not matters of concern to them. His parents did not know the truth. They lacked the information. There was no one like Pastor Wyatt to explain the Good News to them. Cole does not understand why it had to be this way. Now that he knows the story of Jesus by heart, he loves Jesus, but he does not believe his parents were treated fairly. Whenever he thinks about it, it’s as if some spiny, muscular creature begins thrashing around inside him. He would like to talk about it, about why God would have wanted to save him but not his mother and father. He would ask PW, he would even ask Tracy, except it’s as if there was an agreement among them not to talk about his parents. Cole has the feeling that, if he himself didn’t bring them up now and then, his parents would never be mentioned again. Whenever he starts talking about his life before Salvation City, everybody acts as if the room had suddenly turned too hot or too cold. Now he is learning to be silent. But the spiny, muscular creature goes on thrashing inside him.
But it maddens Cole that anyone would think his parents deserved to be punished for not knowing Christ. The Christians he has met are not better people than his mother and father. Some of them, like Mason, have done things worse than anything his parents had ever done. Cole does not understand how, after Judgment Day, the saved are going to be happy in heaven knowing that at every moment they are enjoying themselves billions of other people are being horribly tortured. Wouldn’t that be incredibly mean and selfish of them? He wonders if God intends to wipe the knowledge of hell from the minds of the saved in the way that, before the Fall, he kept Adam and Eve from knowing about evil. But that is another puzzle. If Adam and Eve knew nothing of evil, how could they have known right from wrong? And if they didn’t know right from wrong, how could they sin? “You’re overthinking,” PW tells him. “Which is one very good way of keeping the Lord at a distance.”
“He’s plenty bright and he knows so much already. And he reads the Bible all the time, God bless him. But he isn’t into the lessons, I can tell, and he does bad on some of the tests. Honestly, though, I don’t see the point in his spending so much time and effort on most of this stuff. It would be different if we were living years ago.” Adele has to agree with her friend. “Back in the day, I always thought about how I was preparing my kids for a chance at a good job. But it’s doubtful Cole’s going to have to worry about that.” “Be that as it may, there are rules and Christians still have to play by them,” says Pastor Wyatt. “I do believe we are living in the end times, but the way to prepare isn’t by changing our daily lives. We should go on living right, treating others with respect and kindness, witnessing, and of course praying. But the rest should be left to God. And I don’t believe he’d appreciate us trying to second-guess him. I’d also like to remind everyone that among the highest Christian values, along with faith and purity, are accountability and self-control. And for those out there who are thinking, Guess there ain’t much point in fixing the roof, now, is there? or Hey, maybe I can stop paying my mortgage or credit card debts—well, I believe such folks are playing with hellfire.”
Say what you would about the pandemic, at least it had helped slow down the rat race. It had also got people thinking more about the world to come. In communities like Salvation City, life had become simpler and more purpose-driven. People were sticking closer to home, spending more time with their families. And everywhere church attendance had soared.
Once, he was shocked to realize he’d been thinking about his mother and PW together. He knew it was wrong to have impure thoughts about Starlyn. He knew that dwelling on what he’d seen in the upstairs hallway was inviting sin. What could be said, then, about imagining his mother and PW in Starlyn and Mason’s place? Probably there didn’t exist a word bad enough to describe the kind of person who’d do such a thing. Add to this the guilt of betrayal—for he knew he could be accused of this, too: betraying his father, betraying Tracy. Yet even as self-loathing clotted his throat, the idea stayed with him. His mother would have found at least a hundred things wrong with PW. The way he smiled all the time would have got on her nerves. The way he said things like “good eatin’.” A Jesus freak. A preacher with a manicure and a handgun—his mother would have made so much fun of him! But in Cole’s fantasy Pastor Wyatt swept Serena Vining off her feet.
“Whatever you call it, and you can call it global warming or climate change or anything you want,” said PW, “it’s still the hand of God. Meaning it is part of his plan. And the only way we can understand any of it, or where God is going with it, is by praying and pondering Scripture and praying some more.”
As he turned his bike toward home (yes, home, he thought: they were not his parents but it was his home; he didn’t have any other), he felt the tension inside him ease. He was not unhappy. In fact, he could not recall another time when the future had looked so bright and full to him. He had made up his mind, and he had no doubt that he would go to Berlin. He did not know exactly when, but he was determined to get there. He had no doubt, either, that he was going back to school, and that one day he would go to college. What else was he to make of that perfectly clear image of himself up ahead, wearing jeans and a leather jacket and the glasses he’d probably need by then (from all that studying), shaking up a lecture hall with his comments? (Girls would dawdle after class to ask would he mind clarifying some point he had made and he’d pretend not to know it was just an excuse to flirt with him.) He did not believe the world was about to end, and he saw himself living a long time and going many places and doing many different things. “Your whole life ahead of you”—never more than just an expression before—now came to him with the ring of a blessing. But it was not just to new places Cole wanted to travel. He felt a great longing to retrace his steps, to return to places he had already been, where so much had happened but which remained so dreamlike and murky in his head that he could not lay hold of them. Even if all he could do was stand in the street and look at it, he wanted to go back to the house in Little Leap, as he wanted to go back to Here Be Hope—just to see what it felt like to be there. He wanted to go to Chicago and find out for himself how much had changed since he had lived there and what had happened to everyone, even if what he found out was bad. He knew that much of the world was dangerous, that America was far more dangerous now than when he was a little boy, but he wasn’t afraid to go anywhere. He understood why Addy had left Chicago, but for the very reasons she had fled he wished he could be there. He thrilled at the idea of being somewhere truly dangerous, a place where anything might happen, a place mad full of action. A disaster area, a revolution, a war. What would it be like to be in a real war? What kind of soldier would he make? He might be a hero after all. If he could learn how to shoot. He had decided his parents were right about life being too short, and the proof was this: no matter how long you lived you could never see the whole world. But when he thought about what lay ahead, all the adventures and discoveries waiting for him, he felt full to the brim with excitement. He knew the things he wanted now he wanted badly enough that nothing would stop him. It was only for a little while longer that his place was here. He knew that he would stay, and then, when the time came, he would go away. He did not know if he would return.
Cole hopes to go around the world one day. One of his favorite words is explorer. During the pandemic people weren’t allowed to travel anywhere unless they absolutely had to, and even now it’s not the way it was before. There aren’t as many airplanes. There aren’t as many buses or trains, and there aren’t as many cars on the highways.
Plans to keep public transportation and electricity and telecommunications and other vital services operating and food and water and other necessities from running out. Plans to mobilize troops (for Cole this was the only exciting part) in the event of mass panic or violence. One day he would ask Pastor Wyatt why, despite all these plans, everything had gone so wrong. “Son, that is just the thing. That is what people did not—and still do not—get. There is no way you can count on the government, even if it’s a very good government. The government isn’t going to save you, it isn’t going to save anyone. There’s no way you can count on other people in a situation like we had. People afraid of losing their lives—or, Lord knows, even just their toys—they’ll panic. Even fine, decent Christian folk—you can never know for sure what they’ll do next. So I say, love your neighbor, help your fellow man all you can, but don’t ever count on any other human being. Count on God.”
Was he sure only his mother was Jewish? Then what was his father’s religion? Atheist. Well, atheism wasn’t a religion. It was the opposite of religion, the belief that there was no God. He knew that. So his dad was an atheist, but his mom was a Jew? They were both atheists. And would it be correct to say that’s what he was raised to believe, too? That there was no God and that all religion was wrong? He’d been raised to believe religion was for retards. He’d been raised to believe people who were religious did more harm than good. He’d been raised to believe that God was a myth, that religion screwed up everything, that a person didn’t have to be religious in order to be a good person, that religious education of children was a kind of child abuse, and that if God did exist he’d have to be an atheist, too.
Cole wanted to know, though he knew no one could ever tell him, if somehow, at the moment you died, you understood what was happening to you.
He has no idea how much of the Bible either of his parents had read, but he knows that the things that are sacred in Salvation City were never important to them. What Jesus said on the cross, what happened to the preborn, these were not matters of concern to them. His parents did not know the truth. They lacked the information. There was no one like Pastor Wyatt to explain the Good News to them. Cole does not understand why it had to be this way. Now that he knows the story of Jesus by heart, he loves Jesus, but he does not believe his parents were treated fairly. Whenever he thinks about it, it’s as if some spiny, muscular creature begins thrashing around inside him. He would like to talk about it, about why God would have wanted to save him but not his mother and father. He would ask PW, he would even ask Tracy, except it’s as if there was an agreement among them not to talk about his parents. Cole has the feeling that, if he himself didn’t bring them up now and then, his parents would never be mentioned again. Whenever he starts talking about his life before Salvation City, everybody acts as if the room had suddenly turned too hot or too cold. Now he is learning to be silent. But the spiny, muscular creature goes on thrashing inside him.
But it maddens Cole that anyone would think his parents deserved to be punished for not knowing Christ. The Christians he has met are not better people than his mother and father. Some of them, like Mason, have done things worse than anything his parents had ever done. Cole does not understand how, after Judgment Day, the saved are going to be happy in heaven knowing that at every moment they are enjoying themselves billions of other people are being horribly tortured. Wouldn’t that be incredibly mean and selfish of them? He wonders if God intends to wipe the knowledge of hell from the minds of the saved in the way that, before the Fall, he kept Adam and Eve from knowing about evil. But that is another puzzle. If Adam and Eve knew nothing of evil, how could they have known right from wrong? And if they didn’t know right from wrong, how could they sin? “You’re overthinking,” PW tells him. “Which is one very good way of keeping the Lord at a distance.”
“He’s plenty bright and he knows so much already. And he reads the Bible all the time, God bless him. But he isn’t into the lessons, I can tell, and he does bad on some of the tests. Honestly, though, I don’t see the point in his spending so much time and effort on most of this stuff. It would be different if we were living years ago.” Adele has to agree with her friend. “Back in the day, I always thought about how I was preparing my kids for a chance at a good job. But it’s doubtful Cole’s going to have to worry about that.” “Be that as it may, there are rules and Christians still have to play by them,” says Pastor Wyatt. “I do believe we are living in the end times, but the way to prepare isn’t by changing our daily lives. We should go on living right, treating others with respect and kindness, witnessing, and of course praying. But the rest should be left to God. And I don’t believe he’d appreciate us trying to second-guess him. I’d also like to remind everyone that among the highest Christian values, along with faith and purity, are accountability and self-control. And for those out there who are thinking, Guess there ain’t much point in fixing the roof, now, is there? or Hey, maybe I can stop paying my mortgage or credit card debts—well, I believe such folks are playing with hellfire.”
Say what you would about the pandemic, at least it had helped slow down the rat race. It had also got people thinking more about the world to come. In communities like Salvation City, life had become simpler and more purpose-driven. People were sticking closer to home, spending more time with their families. And everywhere church attendance had soared.
Once, he was shocked to realize he’d been thinking about his mother and PW together. He knew it was wrong to have impure thoughts about Starlyn. He knew that dwelling on what he’d seen in the upstairs hallway was inviting sin. What could be said, then, about imagining his mother and PW in Starlyn and Mason’s place? Probably there didn’t exist a word bad enough to describe the kind of person who’d do such a thing. Add to this the guilt of betrayal—for he knew he could be accused of this, too: betraying his father, betraying Tracy. Yet even as self-loathing clotted his throat, the idea stayed with him. His mother would have found at least a hundred things wrong with PW. The way he smiled all the time would have got on her nerves. The way he said things like “good eatin’.” A Jesus freak. A preacher with a manicure and a handgun—his mother would have made so much fun of him! But in Cole’s fantasy Pastor Wyatt swept Serena Vining off her feet.
“Whatever you call it, and you can call it global warming or climate change or anything you want,” said PW, “it’s still the hand of God. Meaning it is part of his plan. And the only way we can understand any of it, or where God is going with it, is by praying and pondering Scripture and praying some more.”
As he turned his bike toward home (yes, home, he thought: they were not his parents but it was his home; he didn’t have any other), he felt the tension inside him ease. He was not unhappy. In fact, he could not recall another time when the future had looked so bright and full to him. He had made up his mind, and he had no doubt that he would go to Berlin. He did not know exactly when, but he was determined to get there. He had no doubt, either, that he was going back to school, and that one day he would go to college. What else was he to make of that perfectly clear image of himself up ahead, wearing jeans and a leather jacket and the glasses he’d probably need by then (from all that studying), shaking up a lecture hall with his comments? (Girls would dawdle after class to ask would he mind clarifying some point he had made and he’d pretend not to know it was just an excuse to flirt with him.) He did not believe the world was about to end, and he saw himself living a long time and going many places and doing many different things. “Your whole life ahead of you”—never more than just an expression before—now came to him with the ring of a blessing. But it was not just to new places Cole wanted to travel. He felt a great longing to retrace his steps, to return to places he had already been, where so much had happened but which remained so dreamlike and murky in his head that he could not lay hold of them. Even if all he could do was stand in the street and look at it, he wanted to go back to the house in Little Leap, as he wanted to go back to Here Be Hope—just to see what it felt like to be there. He wanted to go to Chicago and find out for himself how much had changed since he had lived there and what had happened to everyone, even if what he found out was bad. He knew that much of the world was dangerous, that America was far more dangerous now than when he was a little boy, but he wasn’t afraid to go anywhere. He understood why Addy had left Chicago, but for the very reasons she had fled he wished he could be there. He thrilled at the idea of being somewhere truly dangerous, a place where anything might happen, a place mad full of action. A disaster area, a revolution, a war. What would it be like to be in a real war? What kind of soldier would he make? He might be a hero after all. If he could learn how to shoot. He had decided his parents were right about life being too short, and the proof was this: no matter how long you lived you could never see the whole world. But when he thought about what lay ahead, all the adventures and discoveries waiting for him, he felt full to the brim with excitement. He knew the things he wanted now he wanted badly enough that nothing would stop him. It was only for a little while longer that his place was here. He knew that he would stay, and then, when the time came, he would go away. He did not know if he would return.
February 27, 2020
I picked this up because I really admired "The Friend," and thought that I should read everything written by Sigrid Nunez. Yes, it was that good. This was a very different novel about a 13-year-old boy who has lost both parents in a flu pandemic and has been taken in by a minister and his wife, who live in a community of fundamentalist Christians.
One of the great things about Sigrid Nunez is that she gets most of the little details right, and her portrayal of the main character, Cole, is very strong. A lot of the story occurs in Cole's head and she does a very good job of describing his thought processes in a realistic way. Aside from the sensational aspects of the story, involving many, many deaths and the disruption that follows, the story is really about someone who was living one kind of life, and has had that ripped away and is now living a very different kind of life, and how that affects a vulnerable young person.
I thought that the characters other than Cole were not as well developed. Nunez treads carefully with regard to the residents of the Christian community, not wanting to mock them, and she illustrates the many kindnesses that are extended by those who are very religious. At the same time, she shows that there is no hiding from society's problems, even when one lives in an insular Christian community. Despite all that, the characters from the Christian community come across more as types than as real people.
The story was a little slow, but I was fine with that. It was interesting to watch the progression of Cole's thinking as the story proceeded. I thought that the novel was ended very well. There are a lot of nice elements to the story. Nunez is an intelligent, wise writer.
My overall impression was that there were many fine elements to this book. I like Nunez a lot as a writer. Still, with all of that, I thought that the total novel was less than the sum of all of its parts. It wasn't always interesting and engaging. Some of the characterizations were weak. I'm still going to read more from Nunez, but this is not her best book. But still worth reading.
One of the great things about Sigrid Nunez is that she gets most of the little details right, and her portrayal of the main character, Cole, is very strong. A lot of the story occurs in Cole's head and she does a very good job of describing his thought processes in a realistic way. Aside from the sensational aspects of the story, involving many, many deaths and the disruption that follows, the story is really about someone who was living one kind of life, and has had that ripped away and is now living a very different kind of life, and how that affects a vulnerable young person.
I thought that the characters other than Cole were not as well developed. Nunez treads carefully with regard to the residents of the Christian community, not wanting to mock them, and she illustrates the many kindnesses that are extended by those who are very religious. At the same time, she shows that there is no hiding from society's problems, even when one lives in an insular Christian community. Despite all that, the characters from the Christian community come across more as types than as real people.
The story was a little slow, but I was fine with that. It was interesting to watch the progression of Cole's thinking as the story proceeded. I thought that the novel was ended very well. There are a lot of nice elements to the story. Nunez is an intelligent, wise writer.
My overall impression was that there were many fine elements to this book. I like Nunez a lot as a writer. Still, with all of that, I thought that the total novel was less than the sum of all of its parts. It wasn't always interesting and engaging. Some of the characterizations were weak. I'm still going to read more from Nunez, but this is not her best book. But still worth reading.
September 23, 2010
Thirteen year old Cole Vinnings is lucky to be alive after the flu pandemic that killed his parents and a large population of the world. After spending time in hellish conditions in an orphanage, he is fostered by a Christian minister and his wife. Their vision of life and the future is one that is very far removed from what Cole had grown up with but he finds himself drawn in, if never being a true believer. The couple are loving if a bit vapid and raise Cole on the basics of their religious practice. Cole tries to navigate an identity for himself in this new world while coming to terms with his past and trying to forge a future.
When I started this book, I was under the impression that I would be reading about a dystopian future. But this society was almost identical to present day. The technology was no more advanced than what we have today and while this was not a big issue to me, it was a sign of my future feelings about this book. I went from somewhat disliking Cole to reversing that decision as I reminded myself that he was just a young child. At first he seemed oddly unemotional and unattached to most of those around him, even his parents when they were alive. I think part of his behavior may have his way of defending himself from a society where he always felt somewhat apart. I am truly at a loss on how to describe my feelings about this book. I definitely did not dislike it but I can' t say that I loved it either. I guess the best I can say is that I was left dissatisfied, unfulfilled by the whole experience. I think this stems from the fact that about midway through this book, I realized that the book lacked a coherent direction. By the end, I felt like I had just aimlessly wandered through a desert and came out wanting. I found Cole's life before the pandemic interesting if not compelling and his life after in in the apocalyptic christian city just bland. By the end, realized that there was too much of a disconnect for me to enjoy this book.
*Review copy provided by Riverhead Books, a division of Penguin.
When I started this book, I was under the impression that I would be reading about a dystopian future. But this society was almost identical to present day. The technology was no more advanced than what we have today and while this was not a big issue to me, it was a sign of my future feelings about this book. I went from somewhat disliking Cole to reversing that decision as I reminded myself that he was just a young child. At first he seemed oddly unemotional and unattached to most of those around him, even his parents when they were alive. I think part of his behavior may have his way of defending himself from a society where he always felt somewhat apart. I am truly at a loss on how to describe my feelings about this book. I definitely did not dislike it but I can' t say that I loved it either. I guess the best I can say is that I was left dissatisfied, unfulfilled by the whole experience. I think this stems from the fact that about midway through this book, I realized that the book lacked a coherent direction. By the end, I felt like I had just aimlessly wandered through a desert and came out wanting. I found Cole's life before the pandemic interesting if not compelling and his life after in in the apocalyptic christian city just bland. By the end, realized that there was too much of a disconnect for me to enjoy this book.
*Review copy provided by Riverhead Books, a division of Penguin.
June 8, 2020
(3.5)
An uncanny coincidence that I chose to read Nunez's dystopic novel (2010) now, during a COVID19 lockdown! Her touching coming-of-age story was set during and after a pandemic in a devastated America, focusing on teenaged Cole, who found himself orphaned after the deaths of his parents. Placed in an orphanage with children similarly impacted, he was then fostered by a religious couple who took him into their home in Salvation City, an evangelical township.
The narrative dealt with the adjustments Cole had to make, coming from an atheistic background, to the deeply religious lives of his foster parents (Pastor Wyatt and Tracey). Because Cole himself had been ill, his memories of his past life, as well as his possessions from home, were lost to him. Thus, the novel dealt with his reconnection to those memories and the challenges he confronted in doing so.
I had mixed feelings about the novel, finding it most engaging when Nunez portrayed Cole's teenaged angst so credibly. The story gained momentum for me as Cole became stronger in himself, both physically and emotionally, and began to find his own identity in the midst of the grief, fear, and care that surrounded him. At its centre, the novel was an exploration of salvation and forgiveness, moreso (thankfully) than a sci-fi story that sometimes was too eerily familiar to our crisis in 2020.
An uncanny coincidence that I chose to read Nunez's dystopic novel (2010) now, during a COVID19 lockdown! Her touching coming-of-age story was set during and after a pandemic in a devastated America, focusing on teenaged Cole, who found himself orphaned after the deaths of his parents. Placed in an orphanage with children similarly impacted, he was then fostered by a religious couple who took him into their home in Salvation City, an evangelical township.
The narrative dealt with the adjustments Cole had to make, coming from an atheistic background, to the deeply religious lives of his foster parents (Pastor Wyatt and Tracey). Because Cole himself had been ill, his memories of his past life, as well as his possessions from home, were lost to him. Thus, the novel dealt with his reconnection to those memories and the challenges he confronted in doing so.
I had mixed feelings about the novel, finding it most engaging when Nunez portrayed Cole's teenaged angst so credibly. The story gained momentum for me as Cole became stronger in himself, both physically and emotionally, and began to find his own identity in the midst of the grief, fear, and care that surrounded him. At its centre, the novel was an exploration of salvation and forgiveness, moreso (thankfully) than a sci-fi story that sometimes was too eerily familiar to our crisis in 2020.
September 26, 2011
I might have liked this a little better if the audiobook narrator hadn't been so terribly annoying.
This reminded me a little of Tom Perotta's 'The Abstinence Teacher,' in that it presents evangelical Christians as compassionate, human characters rather than the deranged cartoon figures of liberal nightmare.
Set in a post-flu-pandemic near-future in rural Southern Indiana (hey, guess where I live?), the story, while well-written on a prose level, doesn't quite to add up to as much as it should.
In SF, the usual territory of the dystopian near-future, the plague/nuclear war/zombie apocalypse is an accepted kickstarter: It's just, "Right, the world as I know it has gone to hell - now let's get on with the story." But, here, a lot of the early chapters are wasted on info-dumping the details of the catastrophe - which aren't especially unique. The orphanages are well-imagined, but they come through the clearest when threaded into the rest of the story.
I didn't quite get a handle on Cole's character (or even his age - he seemed both older and younger than his stated age, but maybe that's the trauma?) but both the minister, PW, and his 2nd wife, Tracy, were wonderfully drawn.
This reminded me a little of Tom Perotta's 'The Abstinence Teacher,' in that it presents evangelical Christians as compassionate, human characters rather than the deranged cartoon figures of liberal nightmare.
Set in a post-flu-pandemic near-future in rural Southern Indiana (hey, guess where I live?), the story, while well-written on a prose level, doesn't quite to add up to as much as it should.
In SF, the usual territory of the dystopian near-future, the plague/nuclear war/zombie apocalypse is an accepted kickstarter: It's just, "Right, the world as I know it has gone to hell - now let's get on with the story." But, here, a lot of the early chapters are wasted on info-dumping the details of the catastrophe - which aren't especially unique. The orphanages are well-imagined, but they come through the clearest when threaded into the rest of the story.
I didn't quite get a handle on Cole's character (or even his age - he seemed both older and younger than his stated age, but maybe that's the trauma?) but both the minister, PW, and his 2nd wife, Tracy, were wonderfully drawn.
December 5, 2019
Spoilers
Can't believe this book has so little attention (comparatively) on Goodreads. I quite liked it. I appreciate that the author treated both the far right conservative fundamentalists Pentecostals and the far left atheists equally. She is adept at showing that they are all sincere but flawed people. The cheap way out is often done by other writers who portray the fundamentalists as mean and evil, torturing children and subjugating women. Or portray the non christian as completely unreasonable and hate filled. In this book, the Aunt Addy realizes that she comes on too strong and forceful and backs off her hard talk when she sees how this affects the child. And the Wyatt's are truly loving people even to those they don't much like.
I liked the ending. It was perfect what the boy decides to do. I also liked the way Southern Indiana is portrayed. The author did her homework. I am quite familiar with this area and she shows it pretty much as it is. Salvation City is an exaggeration, but it is supposed to be given the setting of the story.
I am impressed and recommend this one.
Can't believe this book has so little attention (comparatively) on Goodreads. I quite liked it. I appreciate that the author treated both the far right conservative fundamentalists Pentecostals and the far left atheists equally. She is adept at showing that they are all sincere but flawed people. The cheap way out is often done by other writers who portray the fundamentalists as mean and evil, torturing children and subjugating women. Or portray the non christian as completely unreasonable and hate filled. In this book, the Aunt Addy realizes that she comes on too strong and forceful and backs off her hard talk when she sees how this affects the child. And the Wyatt's are truly loving people even to those they don't much like.
I liked the ending. It was perfect what the boy decides to do. I also liked the way Southern Indiana is portrayed. The author did her homework. I am quite familiar with this area and she shows it pretty much as it is. Salvation City is an exaggeration, but it is supposed to be given the setting of the story.
I am impressed and recommend this one.
October 13, 2010
Set in a recent alternative time, the story follows a 13 yo orphan after a massive flu pandemic has changed the world. Cole has lost both of his parents to the flu. Is is 'adopted' by some rapture-awaiting fundementalists.
There are a lot of things that Cole doesn't understand about 'life,' he has seen a lot but he is still just a kid. I thought ms nunez did a really terrific job conveying that confusion of tweenhood - that akward in between phase of childhood to teenhood. Her writing is subtle, well-voiced for her narrator. I can see why this is getting a lot of press. This novel leaves a lot unsaid, and really trusts the reader to come up with their own conclusions, things are not black and white.
There are a lot of things that Cole doesn't understand about 'life,' he has seen a lot but he is still just a kid. I thought ms nunez did a really terrific job conveying that confusion of tweenhood - that akward in between phase of childhood to teenhood. Her writing is subtle, well-voiced for her narrator. I can see why this is getting a lot of press. This novel leaves a lot unsaid, and really trusts the reader to come up with their own conclusions, things are not black and white.
February 3, 2016
I won this novel on Firstreads! It's about a pre-teen boy who is orphaned after a flu pandemic, and taken in by a country pastor in an isolated church-dominated town. I appreciated the portrayal of fundamental-type Christians as real, multifaceted people, not caricatures. I haven't seen much of that in mainstream fiction. I'm also always impressed when one gender writes from the other's perspective with complete believability. Still, I was disturbed by many aspects of the story and didn't see the payoff of some of them...and the ending left me confused and feeling like I had really missed something. Bottom line, it was well-written, but maybe I'm just not literary enough to get it.
December 10, 2014
Cole had super liberal parents who didn't believe in religious hogwash, but when they both went down with the Big Bad Flu he landed in an orphanage -- only to be brought in by a pastor and his young wife. Truth is, he kinda likes their bible leaning, homeschooling ways. He settles into Salvation City and starts to get comfortable. Except there is something going on between the girl he likes and an inappropriate male and then his real-life aunt shows up. Oye. Good stuff. Quick read. Made me want to read Nunez's book about the monkey.
September 28, 2019
Post pandemic: rupture vs. rapture.
October 31, 2020
Great American novel.
September 19, 2020
Maturing During a Pandemic
In Salvation City, National Book Award winner Sigrid Nunez imagines a global flu epidemic, the toll it takes on a 13 year-old boy left alone after the death of his parents, and his adjustment to and lessons taken from an evangelical pastor and community he comes to live with. Published in 2010, Nunez most probably wrote the novel during the 2009 H1/N1 flu pandemic that ultimately killed nearly 300,000 people worldwide. While this event stays mostly in the background of her coming of age novel, early on she vividly describes enough so we see, looking back, that it portends the problems we currently face addressing the coronavirus pandemic, which as of this writing is approaching 1,000,000 dead worldwide, 200,000 of which are in the U.S.A. (likely, these figures are on an order higher, as will probably be shown a few years from now). Often we hear people, especially those in the present U.S. government, claim that nobody could have known such a pandemic could occur as justification for the massive death toll. But past events and numerous novelists, including Nunez, put a lie to this claim. About the only consolation we can take is that it is not nearly as devastating as the one in the novel.
Cole is a quiet kid, without many friends, with a love and skill at drawing, and with parents who most will consider a bit iconoclastic, particularly with the American penchant for religion. Which adds irony to the novel, when, after they succumb to the flu, and Cole wins his battle against it and also survives life in a mismanaged orphanage for displaced children, of which there are many, he finds himself in the home of a fundamentalist pastor who prefers to be called PW and his younger child-like and subservient wife Tracy. Nunez gives evenhanded treatment to PW and others in the religious community of Salvation City, using their beliefs about morality and condemnation to enhance the maturation trials of young Cole. As you might expect, Cole has lots of problems with his parents, added to a sense of abandonment, which he has to resolve. Awkward at first in PW and Tracy’s home and the community, he comes to adopt them as his surrogate family. He does suffer some disillusioning episodes, such as that with the “it” girl of the community, Starlyn, but also some inspiring encounters with strength of character and second chances, which he learns from PW, who in many ways functions as a better father than his own had been. As you would expect, he progresses from a confused, tormented, and rudderless boy to one who finally begins to come to terms with his parents, events, and the direction he wants to head in.
Nunez writes with clarity and compassion for Cole and his new family so that you will care both for the boy and a community often dismissed or caricatured in contemporary literature. With regard to coming of age novels and family sagas, especially those set against particularly trying backdrops, you’ll find this among the best. And the pandemic adds relevancy for today’s readers, another plus.
In Salvation City, National Book Award winner Sigrid Nunez imagines a global flu epidemic, the toll it takes on a 13 year-old boy left alone after the death of his parents, and his adjustment to and lessons taken from an evangelical pastor and community he comes to live with. Published in 2010, Nunez most probably wrote the novel during the 2009 H1/N1 flu pandemic that ultimately killed nearly 300,000 people worldwide. While this event stays mostly in the background of her coming of age novel, early on she vividly describes enough so we see, looking back, that it portends the problems we currently face addressing the coronavirus pandemic, which as of this writing is approaching 1,000,000 dead worldwide, 200,000 of which are in the U.S.A. (likely, these figures are on an order higher, as will probably be shown a few years from now). Often we hear people, especially those in the present U.S. government, claim that nobody could have known such a pandemic could occur as justification for the massive death toll. But past events and numerous novelists, including Nunez, put a lie to this claim. About the only consolation we can take is that it is not nearly as devastating as the one in the novel.
Cole is a quiet kid, without many friends, with a love and skill at drawing, and with parents who most will consider a bit iconoclastic, particularly with the American penchant for religion. Which adds irony to the novel, when, after they succumb to the flu, and Cole wins his battle against it and also survives life in a mismanaged orphanage for displaced children, of which there are many, he finds himself in the home of a fundamentalist pastor who prefers to be called PW and his younger child-like and subservient wife Tracy. Nunez gives evenhanded treatment to PW and others in the religious community of Salvation City, using their beliefs about morality and condemnation to enhance the maturation trials of young Cole. As you might expect, Cole has lots of problems with his parents, added to a sense of abandonment, which he has to resolve. Awkward at first in PW and Tracy’s home and the community, he comes to adopt them as his surrogate family. He does suffer some disillusioning episodes, such as that with the “it” girl of the community, Starlyn, but also some inspiring encounters with strength of character and second chances, which he learns from PW, who in many ways functions as a better father than his own had been. As you would expect, he progresses from a confused, tormented, and rudderless boy to one who finally begins to come to terms with his parents, events, and the direction he wants to head in.
Nunez writes with clarity and compassion for Cole and his new family so that you will care both for the boy and a community often dismissed or caricatured in contemporary literature. With regard to coming of age novels and family sagas, especially those set against particularly trying backdrops, you’ll find this among the best. And the pandemic adds relevancy for today’s readers, another plus.
April 19, 2011
Sigrid Nunez's Salvation City is one book I didn't pick because of its cover; I picked it because of its title. It sounded cool, okay? It was an impulse check-out from the library. Because the back cover was filled with blurbs instead of a summary, I skimmed the inside flap. All that registered was that the main character was a young boy who had survived a future in which a flu pandemic crippled societies around the world.
Cole Vining is a teenager who survives a flu pandemic in the future (Maybe the future? It's unclear, but I shall write about that later) and ends up in a crappy orphanage, where he is one of the few lucky ones to be adopted. His new adoptive parents are right-wing Christians, so different from his liberal elitist biological parents. And dammit, if this were clear from the beginning, I would not have picked it up! This is why book covers are so important (in this case, it's probably better for the publisher to have a misleading cover so more people accidentally buy it)! I got to page 44 when I realized there would be no conflict in the book. Seriously, there are two little "issues" that come up...in the last third of the book. And those issues don't even get resolved. The book just ends, with no clear story resolutions whatsoever.
Let me tell you straight off the bat that the writing in here is really flowy, perhaps almost beautiful. But Nunez has no sense of characterization or clear knowledge of what a teenage boy would actually sound like. As such, the teenage boy sounds like a thirtysomething female writer. Nunez should not choose a perspective that she's uncomfortable writing, and that was clear in how she chose to word any sexual urges (few and far between in this book, which is odd for one depicting a teenage boy); there's little sexual tension and it seems like whenever she attempts to seriously broach the subject she "fades to black". I'm not looking for pornography or erotica, but a little honesty about sexuality would be nice. Not only that, Cole is a really boring, unlikeable protagonist. While it's fine to be awkward, shy, and unsure of your parents' love, especially as a teen, the best way to make a dull protagonist is to make him completely reactive instead of proactive. Cole never really takes charge of anything, and thus becomes a Bella Swan.
One of the problems in the book lies in the timeline of the story. The story isn't broken down into chapters, just four or five long "parts". Cole's memory is faulty due to the effects of the influenza on his brain, and it does have an effect on his narration and his perception of time. But that shouldn't confuse the reader (unless you are James Joyce or William Faulkner, in which case you have carte blanche). Cole keeps switching from describing his orphanage (where he was there for about two years, maybe? From ages 11-13?), his new house in Little Leap or whatever small town in Indiana (where he was during middle school, I guess), his childhood home, and his present situation in Salvation City.
Cole's story chronicles his troubled family life and the calmer Christian household, and while I admire Nunez's attempts to flesh out each side a little, she ultimately fails, and the result is a pretty black-and-white viewpoint. While she ultimately indicates that Cole's atheist/culturally Jewish family probably isn't going to heaven, Nunez kind of implies that the atheist life is a hollow, materialistic, and empty one. And that (as a practicing Hindu with atheist friends) is something I cannot agree with. There are plenty of non-Christians and atheists who live meaningful, productive, public-serving, family/friend-oriented, purpose-filled lives. Nunez does paint an accurate picture of a large number of liberals who aren't fond of religion and even less fond of Christianity through Cole's mother, but she fails to show the real reason liberals use that lazy stereotyping shortcut. It's not just the fact that Christians believe that atheists, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, etc. are going to hell, but that they actively try to cut funding for things like Planned Parenthood (which does more than abortions, thank you), prevent women's right to choose, espouse creationism in schools, and prevent LGBT people from gaining the governmental rights that come with a marriage license. Christianity is as much a religion about hatred as it is about love as today's Koran-burning showed. And while Tracy and PW do contend with PW's turbulent past, they are presented as a more positive influence on Cole, despite the fact that Tracy is pretty much Motherhood Barbie: great for managing a household, rubbish for everything else, and willing to submit to her husband on every matter. In that sense, even if Cole's bio mother was trying to separate from his father, she at least had autonomy and her independent spirit, which are much more positive traits I wished Nunez would have focused on instead of her "nurturing" traits (volunteering at the clinic during the pandemic, holding Cole during his fever).
I didn't appreciate the slights to the gays. I'd really like to see a story with a Christian theme that actually embraces homosexuality without judgment.
Also, this book is supposed to take place in the future. Even if it was only like 5-10 years in the future, the technology changes rapidly. For example, in 2001, only the rich middle schoolers would have cell phones. Today even elementary schoolers have cell phones...with cameras, texting, etc. A small town in Indiana about five years in the future would probably have more than one computer in the household. Almost certainly there would be something cooler than the iPod. Slang changes, but not enough for me to buy "apocalyptic" as a synonym for a "hot girl". And some of the technology seems straight out of the nineties. Who sends emails anymore?
Also, Nunez includes some really troubling descriptions which irked me as a reader of color. Chicago is a very cosmopolitan city; why does the sight of the dark haired female scientist with a foreign accent surprise him? Why was the only other person with an accent he could come up with a Bosnian librarian? His parents were educated, liberal young people in academia; at least a few of his parents' friends had to be professors from different countries. Again, Cole lived in Illinois at one point, which even aside from Chicago has many larger cities and towns that house prestigious universities filled with foreign students. This isn't Hicksville, Wyoming, for goodness sake! Also the fact that Cole tended to associate whiteness and paleness with good was troubling. For example, he thinks that the milk-white skin of PW would never harbor germs. Cole does notice that the rapture children are beautiful and tended to be blond and pale, though this may cast a bad light on Cole's society more than him. This isn't to say that Nunez herself is a racist. She isn't. She is, however, horrendous at characterization and ignorant of how her writing can portray minorities unfavorably.
I admit, I don't read Christian fiction, mainly because of its prejudices, but I did approach this book with an open mind. I finished feeling deeply unsatisfied.
Cole Vining is a teenager who survives a flu pandemic in the future (Maybe the future? It's unclear, but I shall write about that later) and ends up in a crappy orphanage, where he is one of the few lucky ones to be adopted. His new adoptive parents are right-wing Christians, so different from his liberal elitist biological parents. And dammit, if this were clear from the beginning, I would not have picked it up! This is why book covers are so important (in this case, it's probably better for the publisher to have a misleading cover so more people accidentally buy it)! I got to page 44 when I realized there would be no conflict in the book. Seriously, there are two little "issues" that come up...in the last third of the book. And those issues don't even get resolved. The book just ends, with no clear story resolutions whatsoever.
Let me tell you straight off the bat that the writing in here is really flowy, perhaps almost beautiful. But Nunez has no sense of characterization or clear knowledge of what a teenage boy would actually sound like. As such, the teenage boy sounds like a thirtysomething female writer. Nunez should not choose a perspective that she's uncomfortable writing, and that was clear in how she chose to word any sexual urges (few and far between in this book, which is odd for one depicting a teenage boy); there's little sexual tension and it seems like whenever she attempts to seriously broach the subject she "fades to black". I'm not looking for pornography or erotica, but a little honesty about sexuality would be nice. Not only that, Cole is a really boring, unlikeable protagonist. While it's fine to be awkward, shy, and unsure of your parents' love, especially as a teen, the best way to make a dull protagonist is to make him completely reactive instead of proactive. Cole never really takes charge of anything, and thus becomes a Bella Swan.
One of the problems in the book lies in the timeline of the story. The story isn't broken down into chapters, just four or five long "parts". Cole's memory is faulty due to the effects of the influenza on his brain, and it does have an effect on his narration and his perception of time. But that shouldn't confuse the reader (unless you are James Joyce or William Faulkner, in which case you have carte blanche). Cole keeps switching from describing his orphanage (where he was there for about two years, maybe? From ages 11-13?), his new house in Little Leap or whatever small town in Indiana (where he was during middle school, I guess), his childhood home, and his present situation in Salvation City.
Cole's story chronicles his troubled family life and the calmer Christian household, and while I admire Nunez's attempts to flesh out each side a little, she ultimately fails, and the result is a pretty black-and-white viewpoint. While she ultimately indicates that Cole's atheist/culturally Jewish family probably isn't going to heaven, Nunez kind of implies that the atheist life is a hollow, materialistic, and empty one. And that (as a practicing Hindu with atheist friends) is something I cannot agree with. There are plenty of non-Christians and atheists who live meaningful, productive, public-serving, family/friend-oriented, purpose-filled lives. Nunez does paint an accurate picture of a large number of liberals who aren't fond of religion and even less fond of Christianity through Cole's mother, but she fails to show the real reason liberals use that lazy stereotyping shortcut. It's not just the fact that Christians believe that atheists, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, etc. are going to hell, but that they actively try to cut funding for things like Planned Parenthood (which does more than abortions, thank you), prevent women's right to choose, espouse creationism in schools, and prevent LGBT people from gaining the governmental rights that come with a marriage license. Christianity is as much a religion about hatred as it is about love as today's Koran-burning showed. And while Tracy and PW do contend with PW's turbulent past, they are presented as a more positive influence on Cole, despite the fact that Tracy is pretty much Motherhood Barbie: great for managing a household, rubbish for everything else, and willing to submit to her husband on every matter. In that sense, even if Cole's bio mother was trying to separate from his father, she at least had autonomy and her independent spirit, which are much more positive traits I wished Nunez would have focused on instead of her "nurturing" traits (volunteering at the clinic during the pandemic, holding Cole during his fever).
I didn't appreciate the slights to the gays. I'd really like to see a story with a Christian theme that actually embraces homosexuality without judgment.
Also, this book is supposed to take place in the future. Even if it was only like 5-10 years in the future, the technology changes rapidly. For example, in 2001, only the rich middle schoolers would have cell phones. Today even elementary schoolers have cell phones...with cameras, texting, etc. A small town in Indiana about five years in the future would probably have more than one computer in the household. Almost certainly there would be something cooler than the iPod. Slang changes, but not enough for me to buy "apocalyptic" as a synonym for a "hot girl". And some of the technology seems straight out of the nineties. Who sends emails anymore?
Also, Nunez includes some really troubling descriptions which irked me as a reader of color. Chicago is a very cosmopolitan city; why does the sight of the dark haired female scientist with a foreign accent surprise him? Why was the only other person with an accent he could come up with a Bosnian librarian? His parents were educated, liberal young people in academia; at least a few of his parents' friends had to be professors from different countries. Again, Cole lived in Illinois at one point, which even aside from Chicago has many larger cities and towns that house prestigious universities filled with foreign students. This isn't Hicksville, Wyoming, for goodness sake! Also the fact that Cole tended to associate whiteness and paleness with good was troubling. For example, he thinks that the milk-white skin of PW would never harbor germs. Cole does notice that the rapture children are beautiful and tended to be blond and pale, though this may cast a bad light on Cole's society more than him. This isn't to say that Nunez herself is a racist. She isn't. She is, however, horrendous at characterization and ignorant of how her writing can portray minorities unfavorably.
I admit, I don't read Christian fiction, mainly because of its prejudices, but I did approach this book with an open mind. I finished feeling deeply unsatisfied.
August 7, 2022
When Salvation City came out in 2010, I borrowed the book from the library and read the first quarter of it before it was due back. I remembered the title, the cover, the author, and that I had liked what I read, but nothing about it. When I found a used copy at Half Price Books, I decided it was time to get back into it. It’s about things that I love, post-apocalyptic worlds, small town religion, and of course it is set in Indiana. Even with all of these pluses, I am left feeling underwhelmed about the novel.
Salvation City is the coming-of-age story about Cole Vining, a thirteen year old who woke up after having a flu that is killing hundreds of thousands of people to learn that his mother and father had both died from this flu. He is an orphan until he is adopted by regionally popular preacher, PW and his wife, Tracy. Cole grows up knowing that they are doing their best within their system of beliefs and he does his best to follow their rules and fit into his new family. As he grows older, he has to come to terms about what his life means and what he plans to do with this future. In the novel, he sees that every adult is human and make mistakes. They let him down, and he realizes toward the end that his role models are not going to be the people who are gone or the people who are currently present in his life because they are all stuck in their own feelings and agendas.
This story is not one that I loved but I did not hate it either. I feel pretty lukewarm about the whole experience. I do like that Nunez wrote this novel in 2010 and did a pretty good job at predicting the way that America would deal with a pandemic ten years later. I saw a great deal of the same things that she described happening during the Covid lockdown, and it seems like she has a good pulse on the way that America and Americans think about things. Many of the characters are well-written and the scenes are very well constructed, but I did not feel much interest in any of them. The end result is an interesting book that will be easily forgettable.
Salvation City is the coming-of-age story about Cole Vining, a thirteen year old who woke up after having a flu that is killing hundreds of thousands of people to learn that his mother and father had both died from this flu. He is an orphan until he is adopted by regionally popular preacher, PW and his wife, Tracy. Cole grows up knowing that they are doing their best within their system of beliefs and he does his best to follow their rules and fit into his new family. As he grows older, he has to come to terms about what his life means and what he plans to do with this future. In the novel, he sees that every adult is human and make mistakes. They let him down, and he realizes toward the end that his role models are not going to be the people who are gone or the people who are currently present in his life because they are all stuck in their own feelings and agendas.
This story is not one that I loved but I did not hate it either. I feel pretty lukewarm about the whole experience. I do like that Nunez wrote this novel in 2010 and did a pretty good job at predicting the way that America would deal with a pandemic ten years later. I saw a great deal of the same things that she described happening during the Covid lockdown, and it seems like she has a good pulse on the way that America and Americans think about things. Many of the characters are well-written and the scenes are very well constructed, but I did not feel much interest in any of them. The end result is an interesting book that will be easily forgettable.
May 26, 2021
5.23.21: On one level, the plot and characters of SC kept me reading, so curious was I to find out what would happen next, and next, and next. Mild dystopian thriller, maybe? Every page brings surprises and new angles on a crazy situation: Cole is thirteen, only child of academic/intellectual parents, recovering (and suffering from amnesia) from a pandemic flu, newly orphaned (by said flu), placed in a hellish orphanage as the country’s social structures crumble, and then taken in by a childless Fundamentalist pastor and his ditsy wife, who live in a town wholly populated by people awaiting the Rapture with excitement. Aren’t you curious now?
But there’s a lot more to it. First, of course, is that Nunez, writing in 2010, could have foreseen so accurately what a pandemic might be like. It’s hard not to snag on the details: I marveled at what she got right, and compared what she missed with what the world has actually gone through in the last 15 months. Could be distracting, and scary? But I found it comforting, both because it didn’t get as bad as Nunez’ imagined fallout, and because knowing it could be imagined makes it less outlandish, if that makes sense. A global pandemic IS within our imaginations. We’ve just wanted to pretend it couldn’t actually happen.
And then there are the larger questions pondered: those of faith (and religion); education; what happens when you lose all you’ve had; human nature; the nature of truth. Just to name a few.
Best, though, is Cole’s journey, from bratty pre-teen, hating his parents, to post flu shock, to amnesiac confusion, to his fearful efforts to hang on as tightly as he can to his new and incomprehensible world. Then the real struggle begins, and it’s fascinating. Not sure I understand it all (Nunez is not one for explaining, nor for certainty or closure), but it certainly transcends the plot. Cole is just like every young person trying to figure out who he is, and we’re right there with him.
But there’s a lot more to it. First, of course, is that Nunez, writing in 2010, could have foreseen so accurately what a pandemic might be like. It’s hard not to snag on the details: I marveled at what she got right, and compared what she missed with what the world has actually gone through in the last 15 months. Could be distracting, and scary? But I found it comforting, both because it didn’t get as bad as Nunez’ imagined fallout, and because knowing it could be imagined makes it less outlandish, if that makes sense. A global pandemic IS within our imaginations. We’ve just wanted to pretend it couldn’t actually happen.
And then there are the larger questions pondered: those of faith (and religion); education; what happens when you lose all you’ve had; human nature; the nature of truth. Just to name a few.
Best, though, is Cole’s journey, from bratty pre-teen, hating his parents, to post flu shock, to amnesiac confusion, to his fearful efforts to hang on as tightly as he can to his new and incomprehensible world. Then the real struggle begins, and it’s fascinating. Not sure I understand it all (Nunez is not one for explaining, nor for certainty or closure), but it certainly transcends the plot. Cole is just like every young person trying to figure out who he is, and we’re right there with him.
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