In a field of rapidly growing killer Sasquatch books, the good books are proving to be as elusive as the creature itself. I had heard a lot of mixed reviews about the latest release from Max Brooks, author of World War Z, so I was very hesitant about picking it up, as the negatives seemed to outweigh the positives. Knowing that my tastes tend to buck the popular opinion, I shouldn't have waited as long as I had (pricing played a big part, as I couldn't bring myself to spend fifteen bucks for an e-book). I say that now that I've finished the book, but I admit to having my doubts when I started reading it.
To say the book is a slow burn is an understatement, but there's enough of a hook that has you pushing through. You know from the very beginning that the key narrator is among the missing. Whether she's dead or alive, we don't know. And even by the end of the book, we still don't know, but the fact that we are reading parts of her journal makes you curious. The book, you see, is written in epistolary form. For those unfamiliar with the style, it means it's written as a series of letters, journal entries, interviews, etc. If you're not a fan of this format, you're going to be miserable reading Devolution and might even be tempted to throw in the towel early on. My word of advice: Don't give up.
The premise of the story is simple. A small, isolated green community is cut off from the rest of the world when Mt. Ranier starts spewing ash. It comes down like snow and soon covers everything in a layer of grayness. Being that the community was built to be self-sufficient means that the residents can survive short term, but the point of the community was to cut down on the amount of waste emitted, so food stores, while present, are limited. With groceries coming in on a regular basis, there's really no need to stock up. Nobody ever expected this type of natural disaster. They have power, though, or at least they will once the ash is cleared from the solar panels, and food. What they don't have is a means of contacting the outside world, as the heavy ash content in the air is interfering with the cell reception. No cell phones, no internet. Kate and her husband, as the newest residents of the community, are at even more of a disadvantage than the other residents--they are still getting settled in when disaster strikes. The instability of the mountain disrupts the entire ecosystem, and animals start to flee the area. But the local wildlife isn't the only thing flushed from their homes. This is the Pacific Northwest, remember, and what else is the area known for? Well... Bigfoot. That's right. A small community of Sasquatches are forced from their homes, and the community of Green Loop is in their path. With food and shelter being scarce for these creatures, it soon becomes a battle for dominance and survival. Primate vs primate, and the residents of Green Loop have to devolve into man's primitive state as they battle to survive.
As a mentioned previously, the beginning of the book is a slow burn, and parts of it are like trudging through thick swamp water, but once the first encounter occurs, things escalate quickly to an edge-of-your-seat thriller. The pacing of the book is one of the concerns I see expressed, and many readers feel that only that last 50 to 75 pages are worth reading. I disagree. The journey to the end is definitely one worth taking.
Another criticism I see most about this book concerns the amount of detail included in the journal entries, that nobody could be that detailed when recounting the events as they transpired. That didn't bother me, as the journal entries were often written during down time immediately following a chain of events. It's not like they're being written months later. This is an exercise for a woman whose mental health isn't at its best, so it's not surprising or unexpected that she would try to include as much detail as possible.
My one issue with the book, however, lies with two of the characters -- Yvette and her husband, the founders of the community. Their egos are soooo fragile, and the minute their picture-perfect world becomes threatened, they fracture faster than Mostar's glass art. Practically overnight, they are reduced to a feral state even more primitive than the creatures threatening them. Their slide into this state comes across, as least to me, as too happening too fast. They were the glue holding the community together, but the minute their decisions are questioned, they realize they are no longer needed and withdraw completely from the community. It comes across as a contrived plot device to further isolate a group of complacent people who have grown to rely on their founders for guidance and support. The residents are literally thrown to the dogs and forced to fend for themselves. But in the process of isolating the community, Brooks also reduced Yvette and her husband to cannon fodder. You resent what they've become, as there was no valid reason for it, so you don't care what happens to them. In fact, once you see what they've allowed themselves to become, you hope they're one of the first to die. The founders eventually become non-entities and are forgotten by the community until such time as it becomes convenient to use them again. The fact that they are MIA through much of the book, the reader comes to believe they crept out in the middle of the night, literally abandoning those who have looked to them for leadership.
There are few Bigfoot books I consider worth taking the time to read, and Max Brook's Devolution is one of them. It joins Frank Peretti's Monster as one of my favorites in the Bigfoot genre. If you. like me, enjoy books about our elusive furry friend of the Pacific Northwest (and other areas), do yourself a favor and pick up this one and give it a read. I don't think you'll be disappointed.
