REVIEW: "A Beginning at the End" by Mike Chen
I remember, when I was a relatively young child, my mom let me watch the made for tv mini-series version of Stephen King's, The Stand.
Although I, still tender and inexperienced and sheltered, didn't understand the subtle nuances of the apocalyptic horror that played across the screen, the experience did drive home one critical point: that humans are mortal.
I mean, of course, I knew that.
But I didn’t really know it.
Up until that point, I had always viewed death as something that came for the old.
Came when people were ready.
Gave advanced notice.
Cloistered as I was in my tiny family and never having experienced the death of a loved one or even a friend, I had never really thought about the fact that all people die — not just the old and infirm.
And it was mindblowing🤯. The idea that something that starts out as simple as the sniffles could advance far beyond the reach of Nyquil, evolving into a life-ending problem
From the day I watched that mini-series, I would, annually, get a cold and think "Welp, it's been a good run, but this is how I’m going to go out."
I almost got over this not-entirely unreasonable fear. But then my mom showed me Outbreak, which fully renewed and reinforced my belief that the world would end in plague — only a slightly less terrifying way to figuratively turn out the lights on humanity than shambling zombies.
But now I see that the only thing that would be more terrifying than the world ending in a mass plague is the world almost ending that way.
Because if you had somehow managed to survive, you would always be waiting for the next shoe to drop.
And it’s in that state of suspended animation that we find our protagonists at the start of A Beginning at the End, Mike Chen’s second novel.
Rob, Moira, and Krista are all trying to rebuild lives in post-apocalyptic San Francisco. But, like probably all survivors of the near-miss with global extinction, they are struggling under the weight of some heavy baggage.
Rob, now a single father to daughter Sunny, regrets a lie he told years earlier but doesn’t know how to remedy the issue. Mired in grief following the death of his wife, he told Sunny that her mother wasn’t dead but, instead, was away at a hospital and would, eventually, be reunited with the family.
Now this lie threatens to tear his family apart, as the rigid structures put in place to ensure the mental health and stability of the remaining population, could result in him losing his daughter forever.
Krista left behind a troubled past and is trying to make a name for herself — or at least a sustainable income — as an event planner/I’ll-do-anything-you-want-me-to-do-if-you-pay-me errand woman.
Having been burned by pretty much everyone she was ever close to in the past, she is reluctant to form real relationships now, when everything feels painfully tenuous and temporary. But when she unwittingly becomes invested in Rob and Sunny’s plight, she might be forced to do what she has so long avoided: care about someone but herself.
Moira used the disarray that logically accompanies a pandemic to press the reset button on her life. Once a young pop star, she vanished into the night years ago, reinventing herself as someone normal.
Someone simple.
Someone unremarkable.
And she likes this new her — the anonymity that being just another person provides — so, when she hears that her father — the man who thrust her into the limelight in the first place — is looking for her, she’s dedicated to ensuring he doesn’t succeed in finding her. But when she, too, becomes entangled in the mess Rob created, she feels compelled to sacrifice it all — even her hard-earned freedom — to help.
Unfortunately, the primary weakness in this novel lay in its characterization.
Like, I would argue, most books about the apocalypse, this novel is less about the end of the world and more about the people trying to survive it — or, in this case, rebuild after a near miss.
And because this novel is about the people and not so much the plot, it's essential that readers truly feel connected to the characters.
The problem was, I didn’t.
I mean, not quite.
Sure, I cared about them, but not as much as I could have. Should have, really, for me to be as invested as I needed to be for this book to be, ultimately, successful.
The most frustrating part is, Chen was so close to fostering this investment. Had he included just a few more scenes — A little more detail. A couple more flashbacks — I would have been so fucking invested. But, as it stands, it was, like the apocalypse that preceded the action in this novel, a very near miss.
Despite this perceived deficit in characterization, the novel did have some clear strengths.
Overall, the premise was compelling and the pacing successful in keeping readers reading.
It would be almost impossible to read this book and not imagine yourself in a similarly precarious situation, straddling the line between chaos and order and feeling, every minute, as if you are a breath away from the bottom dropping out.
The most notable strength of this novel, for me, was the ending.
Specifically, the epilogue.
*Spoiler Alert*
I found the epilogue to be restorative, really.
This small, easily overlooked chunk of text provided the certainty that the characters had been struggling to find throughout the course of the novel.
It confirmed that Sunny had a future.
This is probably most impactful to me because I, as a parent, would want that above all else.
I would want a bright, fulfilling future for my kids.
Because, ultimately, survival isn't about me.
It's about them.
Just like living is about them.
And so maybe, my mother filling my head with tales of death and destruction was just an exercise in preparation for the end of the world. Her way of ensuring that I am aware of my mortality and studied in the (cinematic) art of surviving a threatened extinction.
All factors considered, though I’ll remember this novel — and would certainly recommend it to fans of tales of the (almost) apocalypse — despite the fact that I felt like there was some unrealized potential.
It earns 3 out of 5 cocktails.
What is your favorite apocalypse fiction (movie, book, or TV show)? Tell me about it in the comments, below.
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