Tags
1970s, 1974, Ballantine Books, bleak, dystopian, gender studies, Gene Szafran, Holdfast Chronicles, James Tiptree Jr. Award winner, post apocalyptic, science fiction, slavery, Suzy McKee Charnas
As a rule, men hated most those they had most wronged; it followed that they hated – and therefore feared – their ancestors’ victims, and imagined vengeful unmen where there was nothing but vacant desolation.
The world all but died during the Wasting, leaving behind an impoverished, cataclysmic mess where all beasts and almost all plants were exterminated—what remain are hemp and a few strains of seaweed. The few men who survived knew who to blame: the sub-human unmen, “whose skins had been tinted all the colors of the earth,” and the fems, traitorous females of the species who caused the doom of mankind. By the time they emerge into the world to establish the Holdfast—the last bastion of civilization amidst the vacant, inhospitable Wild—their fears and hatred has reshaped society, locked into a set of strict binary hierarchies: senior/junior, man/unman, male/fem. It is the ultimate patriarchal society, a culture of homoerotic manliness that would put the worst Greco-Romans excesses to shame. Men who don’t pass their boyhood indoctrination become marijuana-addicted berserk warriors called Rovers; the rest work and toil as Juniors within military units while their Elders reap all the profits. To know the name of your father is a terrific crime. But it is far better to be a man than a fem, used as slave labor, chattel… and for pleasure by a few perverted Elders who eschew the purity of homosexual love.
Eykar Bek is one of the few men who knows the name of his father; he’s abandoned his post and is on a mission to find his father. Rover Captain Kelmz, and the shifty Servan d Layo, sent out to find and return Bek to his duties, decide to join him instead. And so they set out with the fem Alldera to carry their load, following Bek on his quest. Walk to the End of the World is structured in five sections; while they’re in chronological order, each one focuses on a different character from the group:
- The first section follows Kelmz, all but thrown aside by his commanding officer after his many years of duty as a sort of forced retirement, an act which no doubt influenced his decision to side with Bek. Kelmz is a man who defies the “age line” between Junior and Senior, staying in his Junior role long after he could have retired as a Senior. Even more dangerous to his society is his fascination with beasts: he seeks out knowledge of them, envisioning other men with beast-like attributes, clear violations of his society’s separation of man and beast.
- The second section follows d Layo, expelled into the Wild and existing outside of society as a lawless, dutyless antihero. He has no unit or peers, and contributes nothing to the society… except his doses of marijauna and his DarkDreams. He is the lone free spirit in a society that abhors the “freaks” of the old world—as the children’s litany of freaks goes, “Lonhairs, Raggles, Bleedingarts; Faggas, Hibbies, Famlies, Kids; Junkies, Skinheads, Collegeists: Ef-eet Iron-mentalists…”
- The third section follows Bek, d Layo’s boyhood friend and lover; he abandoned his post at Endpoint, a station where Elders—and manipulated Juniors—end their lives in a drug-fueled haze. With the division between Junior and Senior far more important than familial heritage, that Bek knows the name of his father is a dangerous scandal, part of the reason Bek was assigned to Endpoint. Now, he seeks his father—and more importantly, the reason he knows his father’s name.
- The fourth section follows Alldera, trained as a runner and brought along as a pack-fem. Fems are seen by the male characters as little better than beasts fit to work the fields and bear their sons (for those men stoic enough to copulate with a fem); they are kept in servitude, though they have their own set of subversive work-songs echoing those of black American slaves, sung in a slurring softspeak incomprehensible to men. But behind Alldera’s homely looks and dull stare is a keen intelligence, and while she keeps up her deception of deprivation and idiocy, she has her own ulterior motives for following these three men on Bek’s quest.
- The fifth section includes all the surviving characters, bringing their journey—and the story—to its conclusion.
Whenever I see a “feminist” SF work, cries of “misandry” are not often far behind. You only have to look on Amazon or Goodreads to see a few reviews of Walk that label it as such, but that’s kind of like saying that the guy who bumped into you on the bus or subway “assaulted” you. Charnas is far too savvy a writer to fall into that trap; what makes Walk an effective novel is that it starts off with three male protagonists who are sort of “counterculture” to their society; they have their strengths, codes of honor, and redeeming qualities, enough that you can sympathize and empathize with them. You’re hooked into their story, invested in their quest, and while the world is a terrible place rife with degradation and abuse, the worst of those elements are not shown early on. Three-fourths of the way through the novel, Alldera becomes a point-of-view character, and abuses that were safely distanced in the background jump to the foreground; what were unsavory but unnoticed brutalities in the men’s world are front-and-center in hers.
And that structure is why the novel works as well as it does. The three men are all rebels against a strict, repressive society. Kelmz shows an “unmanly” fascination with beasts, imagining men with beast-like qualities, and subverts the senior/junior “age line” that is a strict demarcation. d Layo has given himself up to DarkDreaming, expelled from working society even though his hits of hemp are always appreciated. And Bek, worst of all, knows the name of his own father—a crime for sure—and abandons his post in favor of his own agenda. But they remain complicit and tainted by their society’s values, and there will be no heroic realization on their part of their world’s inequalities; when Bek realizes the depth of his society’s inequalities, rather than accept a fem as a person he instead denies that realization so that he has the fortitude to complete his quest:
There must be no horror, no rape, nothing outside of the ordinary, superficial relations between men and fems. Therefore I can’t permit you to be a person.
It’s brutal stuff, and I’m only scratching the surface of how awful, ugly, and disgusting the world of the Holdfast is. This should really come with a trigger warning, not just from the world’s misogyny but from the rape and cannibalism.
Walk to the End of the World is one of the most stunning novels you’ve never heard of, a powerful book that deserves more recognition and accolades than it receives—I guess readers assume the tone and subject is off-putting rather than wade in to find out for themselves. I can’t say it’s the most vivid or well-written book I’ve ever read, especially when Charnas breaks the cardinal “show-don’t-tell” in some of the more expository sections (further distancing the reader from the content, perhaps?). And its roots in the dark days of the 1970s could make it feel more hyperbolic to today’s readers. But it presents one of the most defining issues of our time—the role of gender, how it influences and is manipulated by culture/society—and flips it into an thoughtful tale, one that’s quite entertaining despite the abhorrent elements of its fictional society. If you like your books not just to entertain but to shine new light on the great social-political issues of their day, then try Walk, a spotlight at the heart of gender issues.
For other views on this novel, see Bookgazing, Emerald City #47, From Couch To Moon or Science Fiction Ruminations.
Book Details
Title: Walk to the End of the World
Author: Suzy McKee Charnas
First Published: 1974
What I Read: Radical Utopias (Quality Paperback Book Club, tpb, 1990)
Price I Paid: $0 (gift from my parents)
MSRP: $25.99 tpb (2-in-1 with Motherlines, Holdfast vol 2) / $6.99 ebook
ISBN: 0312869126 / B00846X02C
Joachim Boaz said:
As I’ve pointed out in the past, this novel succeeds even at its basic structural level. Each chapter moves through the male characters, then the female character, then a hybrid chapter with varying viewpoints. The sheer power of the novel is achieved in part due to Alldera’s position as fourth in the narrative (we suddenly discover how she is treated)…. It’s a hard novel to write about, let alone read about, due to the heady themes, and dark undercurrents (especially in the contemporary environment). I applaud you! It’s definitely a novel that should be read!
Thank you for the review. 🙂
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Joachim Boaz said:
“Let along read”.. oops
Two wonderful reviews in a row! I enjoyed your Compton one immensely as well.
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admiral.ironbombs said:
Thanks Joachim for the kind words; I feel like I had to step up my game since I’m following in the footsteps of other excellent reviewers with these last two.
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realthog said:
I guess readers assume the tone and subject is off-putting rather than wade in to find out for themselves
I grinned when I read this, because that was exactly my reaction back in the ’80s or so: I bought the book and then years went by before I read it, years during which I was deterred by my misconception that it was likely to be a dry feminist tract (like a couple of other novels that particular press had issued). Then I finally read it . . . and started pestering everyone in sight that they should do the same.
I’m delighted to see you giving it an airing here. It’s definitely one that deserves a whole new generation of readers.
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admiral.ironbombs said:
Thanks, John — I was in a similar situation, but now that I’m slightly older and vaguely wiser I’m more inclined give books like this a try. And in cases like this I’m finding they were often great, underrated reads where the apprehension wasn’t justified. And it seems like a fitting book for “a new generation of readers” given the current political climate…
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realthog said:
Keep up the good work: this is one of the truly great sf novels.
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Joachim Boaz said:
I could not agree more realthog — it’ll be on my best of the 70s list when I finally get around to putting it together!
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Cavershamragu said:
I’d never heard of this one Chris (and what does THAT say about me …) and I really like the sound of the structure – sounds really smart. Thanks chum.
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Joachim Boaz said:
I think it’s been overshadowed by works such as The Handmaid’s Tale — for some reason the horrifyingly dark themes were better received in the 80s. This treads similar ground, but a decade earlier! And, it was saddled with some horrid covers so most people probably didn’t even pick it up after seeing it on the shelves (me the first time until I learned more about it!)
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Joachim Boaz said:
Perhaps “better received” isn’t the phrase I should have used. For some reason Atwood’s novel gained the cultural cache while similarly searing + effective feminist works such as Charnas’ didn’t…. Perhaps as she was widely published and well received outside of genre?
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Catana said:
My problem with a book like this is that the sheer, preposterous fantasy element undercuts any values the author is trying to pursue. First, there’s the theme of the world being nearly destroyed with few survivors. Yes, this is an early version, but beaten to death by now. Nothing to eat but two plants? Oh sure. All animals are gone, but humans survive? Right! Subhuman unmen? Sure. If I can’t believe in the world, I’m not going to believe in much else the author has to say.
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Joachim Boaz said:
Do you read dystopias (Brave New World, 1984, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, etc) or like dystopian SF movies (Bladerunner, etc)? They are all like this, they are not trying to make a “realistic” world… hyperbolic on purpose.
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Catana said:
Yes, I’ve read all of them, thank you. Of course, all have elements that are highly unlikely to come about, but are at least believable in the context of the story. Charnas’s book seems to posit a world that has nothing to do with science or technology at all, and is *inherently* unbelievable, making it, to my mind, fantasy. To each his own, of course.
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Joachim Boaz said:
I am not sure how a book like Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (there are no animals, there are androids, the world is mostly depopulated) is inherently believable when a book like Walk to the End of the World is inherently unbelievable (white men have subjugated women, killed minorities, the world is depopulated, there are few animals).
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admiral.ironbombs said:
I guess the crux is whether a book set in the future has to deal with “science or technology” to be SF — 1984, We, The Road, The Dispossessed, Kindred, and many other works deemed SF focus on the soft sciences or are more character-focused without having any of those hard crunchy science parts. In my opinion, science fiction is much more than just books dealing with science and technology, as that would lead to some rather dull reading material. And if we only read about things that were “highly likely” to come about, there wouldn’t be much to read, either.
But yes, if you dislike most dystopias or post-apocalypses for being too “science fantasy” then this one probably won’t change your mind.
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Catana said:
I actually prefer “soft” SF to the hard techno/science stuff, but I enjoy both. I recently read Kim Stanley Robinson’s Green Earth (Science in the Capitol trilogy). Some of it was hard going, but still enjoyable. My own writing increasingly concentrates on near-future dystopias, but on the soft side.
We probably all have lines we tend to draw but that can (hopefully) remain flexible. Sometimes, it’s the writer’s style that makes the difference, sometimes what would be a minor point to everybody else.
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Joachim Boaz said:
What about far far future SF? Star Trek? Star Wars (yes yes, it could be in the past, but)? All absolutely impossible, the worlds hinge on technology that doesn’t exist, won’t exist…. Sometimes I think arguing about the “realism” of a work is a Trojan horse argument because if you like SF you’re bound to love tons of SF that’s impossible and will never happen and absolutely unbelievable if you pause to think about it.
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Catana said:
In general, I’m not a fan of far, far future SF unless it has a more complex and realistic basis than nonsense like Star Wars, which is little more than a series of cartoons. Again, to each his own.
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