THE SHUTOUTS, keeping apocalyptic tales oddly fresh

THE SHUTOUTS
GABRIELLE KORN
St. Martin's Press (non-affiliate Bookshop.org link)
$14.99 ebook, available now

Rating: 4.25* of five

The Publisher Says: A brilliant queer dystopian novel from the author of Yours for the Taking, following a cast of characters on the margins of a strange and exclusive new society.

The year is 2041, and it's a dangerous time to be a woman driving across the United States alone. Deadly storms and uncontrollable wildfires are pummeling the country while political tensions are rising. But Kelly's on the road anyway; she desperately needs to get back to her daughter, who she left seven years ago for a cause that she's no longer sure she believes in.

Almost 40 years later, another mother, Ava, and her daughter Brook are on the run as well, from the climate change relief program known as The Inside Project, where they've spent the past 22 years being treated as lab rats. When they encounter a woman from Ava’s past on the side of the highway, the three continue on in a journey that will take them into the depths of what remains of humanity out in the wilderness.

At the same time, way up North, weather conditions continue to worsen and a settlement departs in search of greener pastures, leaving behind only two members, drawn together by a circumstance and a mystery they are destined to unravel together.

Set in the world of Gabrielle Korn's Yours for the Taking, The Shutouts tells the captivating story of those who have been shut out from Inside, their fight to survive, and an interconnectedness larger than all of them.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: A woman who's a teenager right now is writing letters to Orchid, her young daughter in 2041, a daughter she has not seen in some time. It is heart-wrenching because Kelly's letters are written as a mother who did the best she knew how to do tries to cross a ravaged US in a planet-scale climate apocalypse. She is not having an easy time of the trip. It is a terrible world and a terrible personal situation in that world—no one ever *wants* to leave their child behind. Switching to 2078, we have the second strand of the story, not epistolary but Orchid's third-person cinematic PoV, very close to the character.

This is the main way Author Korn creates investment in her not-very-active story. I have not read the first book, and I didn't feel the lack of the background mostly because I was always inside the field of vision of the narrator of each section. There might be apocalypse unfolding around them, but I'm...insulated...in their bubble of awareness and attention. It *should* feel slow, cut off from the world, instead I'm deeply enmeshed in the characters' feeling world, connected to their emotional responses to the situation. It works a lot better than I thought it would.

In large part, I think, because by using this technique, Author Korn is able to bring the reader through almost sixty years of immense upheaval without making that upheaval the matter of the book. I've sort of reached a saturation with The Climate Apocalypse as the story. Author Korn doesn't make me do the day-by-day; she lets me see the horrors through the eyes of a survivor of the horrors. In 2078, I'm in the world the apocalypse left, and as I'm in the limited viewpoint I'm seeing and responding to the parts that are in Orchid, the narrator's, attention. The centrality of Ava and her daughter Brook pull the mother/daughter bond along with us as we experience with Orchid the toughness needed to survive in this world.

It's an intense experience, and it's all queer all the time. It's that piece that warmed me the most. The world's collapsed and we're still here, we're in the survivors and doing great things with the space we take up. The intense personal commitment to mitigating the horrors, to ameliorating the suffering of all while incurring intense personal suffering from sacrifices made...well...it's quite a step from the usual queer fare I see everywhere. As the world fractures and fragments it's so lovely to see these queer folk making their very best efforts to extend survival and the opportunity to thrive so generously.

I'd give it all five stars if I hadn't felt rather pulled around to little enough purpose by some of the parts where Kelly's narrating her efforts to reach Orchid...I get it, it's really demanding, let's focus on how it makes you feel not what it's exacting from you. Likewise there are moments where Orchid's in motion for, well, for the sake of it it seemed to me.

I cavil; I would not say these issues were terrible, only niggling. It's a read that stands alone, yet makes me wish I'd already read its predecessor. Fine work indeed.