The novel How High We Go in the Dark, published earlier this year, is nothing short of creative.
Author Sequoia Nagamatsu takes us through an ambitious collection of characters facing a global plague (sound familiar?) that targets children and the weak. Each story connects to the one before. We meet a grieving archeologist unearthing an Arctic virus in the melting permafrost, a recently infected young adult trapped in a dark void, and a scientist forming a friendship with a test subject pig who learns to speak — all while painting a bigger picture of this virus and its effects on the world as a whole. The most chilling story features a “euthanasia park,” where terminally ill kids are injected with a sedative and sent on an amusement park ride to die.
Nagamatsu has written a part novel, part short story collection that forms a world of warnings — what COVID-19 was, what COVID-19 could have been in another universe. It’s strange to read this, knowing that just three years ago, I could have read and enjoyed a book like this as escapist fiction. But it’s 2022. I can relate all too well to the themes of confusion, fear, and frustration found in these pages. It makes me uncomfortably grateful that as terrible as COVID-19 is and was, we never needed to go to the extremes found in this book.
That is the challenge with a book like this. It’s bleak. I felt a similar sinking feeling when I watched Don’t Look Up, a movie in which two astronomers try to convince the world to care that a comet is going to hit Earth and destroy all life. Am I supposed to feel dread when reading ***How High We Go in the Dark? Am I supposed to feel relief that things aren’t so bad in reality? At times, it hits close to home when all I want to do is escape the reality of COVID-19.
Structurally, I find that there is always a risk when it comes to splintered novels like this one. It reminds me of Anne DeGrace’s Flying with Amelia, which similarly introduced new characters and a new story each chapter, only tied together by a common theme of Canada. The result was a mash of uninvested characters and forgotten storylines. How High We Go in the Dark, fortunately, doesn’t share the same faults. The common plague theme ties characters and events together much more seamlessly, and we see glimpses of familiar characters in new chapters. It’s a risk that pays off.
Ultimately, Nagamatsu’s risk-taking and creative talent allow for How High We Go in the Dark to stand out from the crowd. It feels personal, it feels (unfortunately) real, and it’s definitely a book to try — just as long as you can stomach more themes of plague and pandemic.
Danaye studies English and procrastination at UFV and is very passionate about the Oxford comma. She spends her days walking to campus from the free parking zones, writing novels she'll never finish, and pretending to know how to pronounce abominable. Once she graduates, she plans to adopt a cat.
