The Declaration (2007)
Written by: Gemma Malley
Genre: YA/Science Fiction
Pages: 301 (Trade Paperback)
This is one of those futuristic fiction (aka, SF) novels brought to my attention by
tezmilleroz. I've been interested in this one for a while, so it was a no-brainer to add it to my cart when I ordered January's book club selection. Reading it ASAP was also, really, a no-brainer. :)
The premise: ganked from BN.com: It’s the year 2140 and Longevity drugs have all but eradicated old age. A never-aging society can’t sustain population growth, however…which means Anna should never have been born. Nor should any of the children she lives with at Grange Hall. The facility is full of boys and girls whose parents chose to have kids-called surpluses-despite a law forbidding them from doing so. These children are raised as servants, and brought up to believe they must atone for their very existence. Then one day a boy named Peter appears at the Hall, bringing with him news of the world outside, a place where people are starting to say that Longevity is bad, and that maybe people shouldn’t live forever. Peter begs Anna to escape with him, but Anna’s not sure who to trust: the strange new boy whose version of life sounds like a dangerous fairy tale, or the familiar walls of Grange Hall and the head mistress who has controlled her every waking thought?
Review style: WARNING!! THERE BE SPOILERS!!! Why the all-caps? Because if you haven't yet read this book and you want to, THEN DO NOT READ THE SPOILERS. I did, and I regret it, because it sucked a LOT of the tension out of the book for me. So please, take my advice and DO NOT READ SPOILERS if you want to read and enjoy this book. Just skip to the "My Rating" section of the review and you'll be fine. :)
First off, hats off to Malley for an excellent premise that's just wonderfully gripping. It's not the first time I've seen such an idea, where drugs provide immortality and children become illegal and the law has to deal with children SOMEHOW (that credit goes to Paolo Bacigalupi's "Pop Squad," which is ridiculously chilling and wonderful and frightening and my favorite Bacigalupi short story EVER), but I liked seeing a different and somewhat more humane take.
But given the fact I've seen it before, I started asking questions from the get-go. Keeping in mind that Bacigalupi's short story was originally published in 2006, which is likely when this book was at the presses, I found myself examining the immortality issue from a lot of different angles. I like that Malley refers to the fact that some countries aren't as humane and just put the children down (that's Bacigalupi's angle), but what really got me thinking wasn't so much how children, aka Surpluses, are dealt with so much as questioning just how realistic such a future society would be.
Consider: you have to opt out of Longevity in order to have children, which means you'll grow old and die and your child will be legal, and that child has the option of opting out of Longevity as well. However, it's made extra complicated in that you had to opt out at a ridiculously young age, and I just don't understand that. Throwing out the excuse of the government exercising its power because it CAN, why is it such a bad thing to let people opt out of Longevity whenever they want in order to have children, especially if it's stressed that once you opt out, you can never OPT BACK IN?
And then there's the attitude that's taken by those who've opted in versus opted out: those who opt out to have children? Are highly suspicious and untrustworthy people. But you know what? Contrary to what's presented in the book, I don't think that's realistic. Maybe this is because I'm looking at it from an American POV (an American who unfortunately lives in the Bible Belt) and Malley's planted firmly in the UK, but seriously: how many religious groups would even GO for this kind of immortality drug? It seems to me that such scientific progress would be met with VERY strong religious resistance, and even if it became legal, there'd still be a major section of the population who would opt out and continue life as it's always been. Also, I would think there would be communities just for people who opt out: keep the untrustworthy bastards together, and the government could keep an eye on them, you know?
But you know what? These are MY wild and crazy thoughts, things I'd be picking apart if it were MY book, but it's not, it's Malley's, so let's talk about what she does, even though some of what she doesn't (see above) was a major distraction for this reader.
One thing that's a major tradition in UK literature is the use of orphanages and neglected, abused children. Not that I've read a lot of it, but I've seen it, heard about it, and this book certainly pays tribute. Grange Hall brought me nothing new, nothing fresh, despite the fact it was used to train Surpluses to be Valuable Assets in society. Which in and of itself was kind of interesting, but everything about this place, from the teachings to the discipline to the way the children interacted with one another, smacked of black-and-white syndrome. Things were either GOOD or BAD and what little shades of gray there were (take Shelia, for instance) was immediately placed in one of the above-mentioned corners.
This made it really hard for me to get swept up in the book. Anna's completely brainwashed, and this reader's definitely old enough and smart enough to know THIS ISN'T RIGHT, but the book spends so much time with Anna-the-brainwashed in Grange Hall that I found myself losing interest very quickly. Her interaction with Peter only interested me in that it gave me details of how life was like on the outside. Once the escape was planned, things got more interesting, and I'll give Malley credit in that she does a good job utilizing her tools: the diary, Mrs. Sharpe, the wording of the Declaration itself, which allows for Anna's parents to commit suicide so that Anna and her baby brother can live.
But in the end, I found this book to be TOO simple, too black & white. Once Anna's escaped, she doesn't have any issues with meeting and accepting her parents for who they are. She has no issues with meeting and accepting her baby brother. The only moment she feels doubt is when she reveals that wrote down all of her and Peter's plans in her journal and it's now missing. Naturally, she waits to be punished, but that never happens.
Here's the thing: I don't think Anna's reactions, aside from that moment of expecting punishment, are very realistic. She's been brainwashed for MOST OF HER LIFE, and she's suddenly able to see her parents as something other than criminal? She's suddenly able to love them? She's able to look at her baby brother and not scream at her parents how irresponsible they are for bringing ANOTHER life into a world where resources are scarce and how they're putting the baby boy at risk of being treated as a Surplus?
This whole thing should've taken MONTHS. Anna should have needed FAR more time than the book allowed to make peace with this whole, "My parents love me and I love them and they aren't criminals" kind of thing. That's just human psychology, you know? Sure, the book's length didn't allow it, but I would've rather been more firmly planted in Anna's head so that we could've experienced the transition, a transition that shouldn't have been summarized by hearing Mrs. Pinchett insult her, by hearing that Mrs. Pinchett planned to kill Peter.
Speaking of Mrs. Pinchett (though the lack of period after Mrs. or Ms. drove me BONKERS--is this a British-ism I don't know about?), I liked the twist that the boy she was trying so hard to get rid of was actually her son. That was a nice bit of backstory for her and a nice revelation, but she was still a little TOO evil for my tastes.
I did have quibbles with the added and extraneous POVs. I didn't need that many extra voices piping in to tell other sides of the story. I would've rather Malley focused solely on Anna, or if need be, on Peter, so that we could've had a much tighter story. That's a preference thing, obviously.
My Rating Give It Away: the premise is stellar, I grant that, but it's execution is just too simple for my taste, and I've seen the premise before in a Bacigalupi short story, which is much darker and a lot scarier. It also didn't help that I kept flipping to the back of the book to see how it ended, which pretty much spoiled any surprise the book had in store for me. So, don't be like me: don't do that. I can't help but wonder if I would've enjoyed this book more if I were much younger, because this book, according to Amazon, is geared towards Grade 5 and up, which might explain just how simply-written and black/white everything is. It's not to say that adults can't enjoy the book (when they've not already seen this premise played out and they haven't spoiled themselves), but it is worth noting that it seems geared for a younger audience, younger than your usual teen reader. That's not something I usually note, but I feel in this case, potential readers should be aware--YA tends to be written in such a way that doesn't cater to its young audience, and this is a book that caters. As far as the story goes, the premise, great as it is, doesn't feel lived up to, but then again, this is the first book of a duology (or series?), so it's easy to imagine (especially given the ending), that we're just seeing the tip of the iceberg. That said, I'm not sure I see myself continuing. Sure, it's a great premise that I'd like to see explored more, but if the sequel, The Resistance, is written like The Declaration is, I'm not sure I want to continue.
Cover Commentary: quite striking. I like it a lot. The penetrating gaze of Anna, and what I imagine to be the Declaration itself ghosted down the cover.
Next up: Darker Angels by M.L.N. Hanover