Zone One

Colson Whitehead, romanı yüksek edebiyat tepelerinden korku janrına "inmiş" bir tavırla yazmış sanki. zombilerin açabileceği sayısız soru kanallarına dalmak yerine güvenli bir açıdan kentini -new york- semtini -manhattan- yaşadığı dönüşümle toplumun değişimini harmanlarım gibi düşünmüş. lakin, örneğin don delillo'nun beyaz gürültüsü'ndeki tüketim müptelalığının, liberal politikaların birey üzerindeki etkisini anlatan bir örneğin yanına bile yaklaşamamış. öyle anlatsaymış değil bu, meramını anlatamamış. karakterin ilerlemesini sağlayan detayın onun sürekli vasat olmasında bir fikir ışıldar gibi ama onda da örneğin camus'nun yabancı'sındaki gibi umursamaz karakter gibi canlı değil. neyi neden düşündüğünü, neyi neden istediğini veya istemediğini zerre anlamıyoruz. sadece bazı nostaljik çıkarımlar, orada burada bir iki vicdan muhasebesi, böyle geçen bir metin. oysa açılış sahnesi ümit verdi, o kısımda hem gerilim hem detaylar hem eylem hem düşünceler hem zamanda geri sıçramalar çok iyi kotarılmıştı. ama devamında sürekli gerileyen bir metin.

I've really enjoyed the other books I've read from Whitehead, and I love an apocalyptic setting. Zone One has a lot to say about survival (in an existential way, not a "how to forage a meal in the wilderness" kind of way) and storytelling, which are themes I'm always drawn to. So, this book felt like the perfect recipe for me. I was ready to love this book to bits. I didn't. I just liked it. It was fine. Whitehead's best (or at least most interesting) decision in Zone One is his characterization of two different types of zombies. By delineating skels from stragglers, Whitehead makes zombies more than mere props for the non-zombies' development; they are important motifs in Whitehead's exploration of the power--even the curse--of memory. This would have been a top-tier, hands-down favorite short story if it were a tenth of the length. It drags. It was difficult to read large chunks of this book at a time simply because the language, while well-crafted and polished, lacked the saturation and flavor that I've found compelling in his later novels.

A great book, but because it flips between present day and the past, I would not recommend listening as an audiobook. It got a little confusing.

Have you ever read a book and felt so stupid for the entire thing but then by the time that it was over I understood exactly what I had just been a part of. This book has subtle commentary on gentrification and racism disguised as the healthy vs the infected. This book lies so closely to our present reality that it's scary. The sanitization of the hands, the quarantine, the bogus medication being touted as a cure; it all hits too close to home for comfort. Don't expect a linear timeline. Don't even expect a clear delineation between the two timelines either. Whitehead requires you to pay precise attention to every little snippet lest you get left in the dust. Brilliant, understated horror.

It only got any stars because the writing itself was good.

I didn't love it. It is bloated, and it wanders, but it covers really interesting topics and concepts of what a zombie apocalypse would look like, post the apocalypse phase. Think seasons 3+ of Walking Dead. I didn't make it further than that in the series though, so I assume things go differently. Whitehead seemed to decide that a stream of conscious, listing storytelling style was the only way to properly convey what it might be like to have made it to this point in a zombie world. Sometimes I think it worked very well, other times I was rolling my eyes and hoping he would get to the point. I almost quit twice, but the ideas kept me wanting more. I'm rambling, probably because this book rambled. But the takeaway is: if you're willing to tackle some stream of consciousness, rambling descriptions of events that hint at and cover some interesting humanity questions in a zombie apocalypse world, which isn't focused on a band of survivors taking out zombies as they come, this is a great book.

I like Whitehead's work generally, but this one fell really flat for me. It got off to a slow, clumsy start and was sort of herky-jerky all the way through and was a slog for me. I'm all for trying to write literary fiction zombie stories, but Zone One succeeds as neither literary fiction nor zombie fiction, nor indeed as the two combined. Whitehead peppers the book with a few nice turns of phrase, but on the whole, this one was a big disappointment.

A very fine zombie novel, Zone One takes place during three days late in a zombie apocalypse. Zombies (never named as such, always called "the dead", or "skels") have overrun most of the world and devoured the majority of the human race. The main character, "Mark Spitz" (a nickname; we never learn his real name) works on a team of soldiers clearing out Manhattan, renamed the titular Zone One - "obviously, sightseeing had taken a hit over the past few years" (73). They work through city buildings room by room, exterminating any leftover zombies, helping prep the area for eventual resettlement. North of their "sweeping" stands a giant wall across the island, from which soldiers rain down fire upon a fairly steady stream of invading zombies. New York is a magnet for human stagglers from around the northeast, a safe haven and place for action. America, led by a new government in Buffalo, is getting ready for rebirth. Alongside this martial action, half of the book is flashbacks and stories. Indeed, a major theme of Zone One is the role of memory, its fragile construction and the doomed passion with which we hang on to it. Whitehead seeds the novel with hints of the past, returning to each one later, fleshing out main and secondary characters. This focus is one way the book seems to reach out beyond the zombie subgenre. The world is very well realized through these frequent detours into the past. We also see the many ways America reinvents itself, from a new anthem/theme song to corporate donations to a pervasive armadillo logo. Additionally, Whitehead has fun inventing terms and nicknames: skels, for zombies; stragglers, the malfunctioning and poignant living dead; the American Phoenix, a kind of rebranding/imposed social movement for post-zombie reconstruction (adherents are "pheenies"); Last Night, the zombie onset; PASD, Post-Apocalyptic Stress Disorder; No-no Cards, helpful behavioral instructions from the new government. The satire is grim, reminding me of Margaret Atwood in her post-apocalypse trilogy. Speaking of satire and style, Whitehead's prose is a pleasure to read, combining sensual details, a wry eye, and rich (for the subgenre) language. For example, [The government] implemented food-distribution networks, specialized scavenger teams, work details keyed to antediluvian skills sets, and the survivors had something to hold in their hands besides the makeshift weapons they had nicknamed and pathetically conversed with in the small hours. The leaders toiled over the details of the paradigm-shifting enterprises like Zone one. So tentative bureaucracy rose from the amino-acid pools of madness, per its custom. (88) Or, more pithily, "She'd worked at a tree nursery before the recent engrueling of the world" (142). The novel shines on day three, the shortest section. This is where (view spoiler)[the fragile new America collapses, and quickly. A seemingly pathetic zombie comes to life, threatening to unleash a new type of undead attack. Zone One's command loses contact with the rest of the country, which seems to be under fresh attacks. And the zombie horde breaks down the city wall. As everything falls apart, Mark flees town. This tragic conclusion carries some emotional weight as Whitehead has built up our hopes for humanity's persistence, only to dash them. The success of his depiction of a small society makes its dissolution all the more poignant. (hide spoiler)] One zombie attack scene is gorgeously, horribly told, and becomes a dark meditation on the American immigrant experience (243-4). So why not five stars? There are some misfires and weird steps, like not learning the protagonist's race until the end of the book (231), followed by an awkward passage about the zombie plague pausing racism. Mark Spitz' team leader, Kaitlyn, exists only as the butt of teasing and one horrible pratfall, never as a decent character - odd, given the presence of other colleagues. More importantly, Zone One never fully breaks out of the zombie subgenre, possibly due the the main character's deliberate blandness. Or maybe it's because the book is so good at establishing the zombie universe, that it can't go far beyond it. That feels too harsh. Call it 4 1/2 stars, and a recommendation. This is the first book I've read by Whitehead, and I'll hunt down others.