So, chapter two is a Wells chapter, and let me tell you right now: I doubt this book is going to help my Wells-related bitterness at all, because I’ve only read ten pages from his perspective and I’m already in fucking love.
The quality of the writing is much better than in the first chapter, which makes me think Morgan did make an attempt to change tone for each character’s POV. Or...I hope. The descriptions are more elegant, the conversation between Wells and his father is much less artificial than the one between Clarke and Lahiri. Either she’s got a better grip on Wells’ characterization, or she wants us to think Wells is smarter, I’m not sure. I’m very attached already to this vision of punk rock rebel Clarke, which this chapter only reinforces—but we’ll get to that.
So we open on Wells and Jaha, who looks super old now apparently, because his son followed Clarke down the path of punk rock rebellion for burning down the Eden Tree (another mythological/historical reference), the only living tree brought from Earth, and gave him a bunch of wrinkles and white hair.
The quality of the writing is much better than in the first chapter, which makes me think Morgan did make an attempt to change tone for each character’s POV. Or...I hope. The descriptions are more elegant, the conversation between Wells and his father is much less artificial than the one between Clarke and Lahiri. Either she’s got a better grip on Wells’ characterization, or she wants us to think Wells is smarter, I’m not sure. I’m very attached already to this vision of punk rock rebel Clarke, which this chapter only reinforces—but we’ll get to that.
So we open on Wells and Jaha, who looks super old now apparently, because his son followed Clarke down the path of punk rock rebellion for burning down the Eden Tree (another mythological/historical reference), the only living tree brought from Earth, and gave him a bunch of wrinkles and white hair.
“Was it a dare? Were you trying to show off for your friends?” The Chancellor spoke in the same low, steady tone he used during Council hearings, then raised an eyebrow to indicate it was Wells’s turn to talk.
“No, sir.”
“Were you overcome by some temporary bout of insanity? Were you on drugs?” There was a faint note of hopefulness in his voice that, in another situation, Wells might’ve found amusing. But there was nothing humorous about the look in his father’s eyes, a combination of weariness and confusion that Wells hadn’t seen since his mother’s funeral.
I’m already far more invested in this relationship than is probably healthy. Just from this short interaction you can already see the characters forming into people—the leader, who believes so purely in the righteousness of his government that any deviation or resistance genuinely confuses him as much as it angers him (a classic character profile in dystopias) and his wayward son, regretful for the hurt he’s caused his father, but not the hurt he’s caused his leader. The split there, between duty to state and duty to family, between love and righteousness.
It hurts already. Oh God, I’m not ready.
It hurts already. Oh God, I’m not ready.
Wells felt a fleeting urge to touch his father’s arm, but something other than the handcuffs shackling his wrists kept him from reaching across the desk. Even as they had gathered around the release portal, saying their final, silent good-byes to Wells’s mother, they’d never bridged the six inches of space between their shoulders. It was as if Wells and his father were two magnets, the charge of their grief repelling them apart.
HOLY SHIT. This is like an entirely new Kass Morgan. That paragraph rips my heart out and makes me intensely jealous, because fuck, those are some well-formed sentences.
I mean, it goes on like this for the entire next page. I’d quote the whole thing if I could, because Wells’ description of his arrest and his father’s desperate attempts to understand it, is some damn good writing. Very smoothly done, and with enough emotion in it to make you want to understand as well, and feel for both Wells and Jaha at the same time, without overdoing the sympathy for each.
It’s incredibly jarring, because the first chapter made me think I was in for a robotically written novel from an author who has very obviously spent most of her career in editing. But now, here she is with this shit, I’m thrown. I’m adrift. I’m excited, and also fearful. Holy fuck, I hope Bellamy’s chapters are like this.
So, some things: Wells burned down the Eden Tree because he knew that his father would be able to cover up any less visible crime, which tells you a few things about the machinations of the Council and the power of the Chancellor, as well as Wells’ political savviness. Also, they call the move onto the Ark from Earth the “Exodus.” Another Bible reference. They think a bit much of themselves, eh?
Also, Kass Morgan denotes flashbacks by switching to a different font, which is fuckin’ dumb. I mean, stylistic choice, whatever. But I think it’s annoying, therefore in the world of this recap, it’s fuckin’ dumb.
I mean, it goes on like this for the entire next page. I’d quote the whole thing if I could, because Wells’ description of his arrest and his father’s desperate attempts to understand it, is some damn good writing. Very smoothly done, and with enough emotion in it to make you want to understand as well, and feel for both Wells and Jaha at the same time, without overdoing the sympathy for each.
It’s incredibly jarring, because the first chapter made me think I was in for a robotically written novel from an author who has very obviously spent most of her career in editing. But now, here she is with this shit, I’m thrown. I’m adrift. I’m excited, and also fearful. Holy fuck, I hope Bellamy’s chapters are like this.
So, some things: Wells burned down the Eden Tree because he knew that his father would be able to cover up any less visible crime, which tells you a few things about the machinations of the Council and the power of the Chancellor, as well as Wells’ political savviness. Also, they call the move onto the Ark from Earth the “Exodus.” Another Bible reference. They think a bit much of themselves, eh?
Also, Kass Morgan denotes flashbacks by switching to a different font, which is fuckin’ dumb. I mean, stylistic choice, whatever. But I think it’s annoying, therefore in the world of this recap, it’s fuckin’ dumb.
 |
| this is going to annoy the fuck out of me for the next thirty chapters |
The hospital door closed behind him but Wells’s smile stayed frozen in place, as if the force it had taken to lift the corners of his mouth had permanently damaged the muscles in his face. Through the haze of drugs, his mother had probably thought his grin looked real, which was all that mattered. She’d held Wells’s hand as the lies poured out of him, bitter but harmless. Yes, Dad and I are doing fine. She didn’t need to know that they’d barely exchanged more than a few words in weeks. When you’re better, we’ll finish Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. They both knew that she’d never make it to the final volume.
UM. Okay, rude. You guys had me under the impression that book!Wells was boring. Y’all have failed me, because this is horrible and awful and I want to rip my heart out and die, I love this guy so much already.
So, this flashback is pretty elegantly done as well, managing exposition in a way that intrigues you and makes you curious to learn more by casually explaining things along the way—another far cry from the clunky stuff in chapter one. We learn about the “Exchange,” for instance, a capital letter word where people apparently spend a lot of time at, and now I really wanna know what it is. We learn about the library, and the rules about keeping books safe in their airtight cases, and that only certain people have access to it, and that most of the digital archives brought from Earth were wiped out by a “virus” (how much you wanna bet that was the Council’s doing? I could use some extra cash). You learn that email is called “message queue” because Kass Morgan really wants to be British, and people have some kind of creepy Google Glass thing where they can IM their friends by moving their eyes around a lot in the middle of conversations.
All of which, I might add, is super fucking cool future sci-fi detail that the show contains approximately NONE OF WHATSOEVER. Because, haha, I don’t know. Rothenberg.
So Wells explains all this with impressive eloquence (my favorite, about the library: “The enormous room was hidden away from the circadian lights, in a state of perpetual twilight.” What the fuck, maybe she wrote the first chapter for her Creative Writing class and then the rest of it ten years later or something? That is a goddamn good sentence.) and tells the story of his and Clarke’s first meeting, in the library when Wells is feeling really crappy about his mom and Clarke shows up to impress him with her punk rock rebelliousness.
So, this flashback is pretty elegantly done as well, managing exposition in a way that intrigues you and makes you curious to learn more by casually explaining things along the way—another far cry from the clunky stuff in chapter one. We learn about the “Exchange,” for instance, a capital letter word where people apparently spend a lot of time at, and now I really wanna know what it is. We learn about the library, and the rules about keeping books safe in their airtight cases, and that only certain people have access to it, and that most of the digital archives brought from Earth were wiped out by a “virus” (how much you wanna bet that was the Council’s doing? I could use some extra cash). You learn that email is called “message queue” because Kass Morgan really wants to be British, and people have some kind of creepy Google Glass thing where they can IM their friends by moving their eyes around a lot in the middle of conversations.
All of which, I might add, is super fucking cool future sci-fi detail that the show contains approximately NONE OF WHATSOEVER. Because, haha, I don’t know. Rothenberg.
So Wells explains all this with impressive eloquence (my favorite, about the library: “The enormous room was hidden away from the circadian lights, in a state of perpetual twilight.” What the fuck, maybe she wrote the first chapter for her Creative Writing class and then the rest of it ten years later or something? That is a goddamn good sentence.) and tells the story of his and Clarke’s first meeting, in the library when Wells is feeling really crappy about his mom and Clarke shows up to impress him with her punk rock rebelliousness.
“I think you should take it now.” Wells’s jaw tightened, but when he said nothing, she continued. “I used to see you here with your mother. You should bring it to her.”
“Just because my father’s in charge of the Council doesn’t mean I get to break a three-hundred-year rule,” he said, allowing just a shade of condescension to darken his tone.
“The book will be fine for a few hours. They exaggerate the effects of the air.”
 |
| *rebel girl by bikini kill starts playing* |
Wells raised an eyebrow. “And do they exaggerate the power of the exit scanner?” There were scanners over most public doors on Phoenix that could be programmed to any specifications. In the library, it monitored the molecular composition of every person who exited, to make sure no one left with a book in their hands or hidden in their clothes.
A smile flickered across her face. “I figured that out a long time ago.” She glanced over her shoulder down the shadowy aisle between the bookcases, reached into her pocket, and extracted a piece of gray cloth. “It keeps the scanner from recognizing the cellulose in the paper.” She held it out to him. “Here. Take it.”
Hot damn, girl. I love punk rock Clarke. I love her so much, and I especially love this suspicious, sad Wells, who instantly falls in love with her, because shit, who wouldn’t? I just did. She’s got magical book-hiding shit in her pocket. She probably bought it on the Ark black market. Because she’s punk rock.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“So you know to whom you’ll be eternally indebted?”
“So I know who to blame when I’m arrested.”
The girl tucked the book under her arm and then extended her hand. “Clarke.”
“Wells,” he said, reaching forward to shake it. He smiled, and this time it didn’t hurt.
I MEAN, two things, one: Kass Morgan definitely used to write fanfiction, and two: I am SO INTO THIS. She’s clearly his cool, hot, exciting love interest. I kept waiting for her to pull a cigarette out from behind her ear and ask Wells what a nice boy like him was doing in a bar like this. She’s Danny to his Sandy, okay, the Tony to his Maria, they’re gender-flipped Mandy Moore and Shane West. She’s gonna ask him not to give up on her at some point, I can just feel it.
Anyway, so then it’s back to the present in the office with Jaha, who is clearly flummoxed by these weird things called “emotions,” and is still trying to understand why his son has shamed the family name, or whatever.
Anyway, so then it’s back to the present in the office with Jaha, who is clearly flummoxed by these weird things called “emotions,” and is still trying to understand why his son has shamed the family name, or whatever.
“Some of the council members wanted to execute you on the spot, juvenile or not, you know. I was only able to spare you by getting them to agree to send you to Earth.”
Wells exhaled with relief. There were fewer than 150 kids in Confinement, so he had assumed they’d take all the older teens, but until this moment he hadn’t been sure he would be sent on the mission.
His father’s eyes widened with surprise and understanding as he stared at Wells. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Wells nodded.
The Chancellor grimaced. “Had I known you were this desperate to see Earth, I could have easily arranged for you to join the second expedition. Once we determined it was safe.”
Yeah. Because your first thought when your son has committed an extremely public, extremely taboo crime is “gee, he must want to go on that trip real bad.” Get real.
It’s a very telling character moment, because Jaha so far is portrayed as incredibly clueless when it comes to essentially human things—the grief being what drives he and Wells apart, confusion over his son’s motives, lack of empathy, et cetera. It’s a nice touch in a character that otherwise would be impossible to sympathize with, and so far the book’s doing a much better job at making me understand and see his point of view than the show, tbh.
So Wells finally lets on that Clarke’s the reason he did it, and also insinuates to another mysterious reason for guilt that will be explained during the emotional climax of the novel, because “everyone has ~~secrets~~” is going to be a major theme in this book, I can already tell. He also explains that his mother was a romantic and would’ve been proud of him, at the same time that Jaha clearly thinks his son is a gigantic freak:
It’s a very telling character moment, because Jaha so far is portrayed as incredibly clueless when it comes to essentially human things—the grief being what drives he and Wells apart, confusion over his son’s motives, lack of empathy, et cetera. It’s a nice touch in a character that otherwise would be impossible to sympathize with, and so far the book’s doing a much better job at making me understand and see his point of view than the show, tbh.
So Wells finally lets on that Clarke’s the reason he did it, and also insinuates to another mysterious reason for guilt that will be explained during the emotional climax of the novel, because “everyone has ~~secrets~~” is going to be a major theme in this book, I can already tell. He also explains that his mother was a romantic and would’ve been proud of him, at the same time that Jaha clearly thinks his son is a gigantic freak:
His father stared at him. “Are you telling me this whole debacle is because of that girl?”
STRONG TONY AND MARIA VIBES.
Wells nodded slowly. “It’s my fault she’s being sent down there like some lab rat. I’m going to make sure she has the best chance of making it out alive.”
I really admire that Morgan isn’t holding back on the lab rat allusion there. The show could use a bit more of that honesty.
Blah blah, Jaha lords the wristbands over Wells’ head, because adults explaining things they wouldn’t actually feel a need to explain is Morgan’s favorite method of exposition, and the chapter ends on this heartwrenching interaction:
Blah blah, Jaha lords the wristbands over Wells’ head, because adults explaining things they wouldn’t actually feel a need to explain is Morgan’s favorite method of exposition, and the chapter ends on this heartwrenching interaction:
“Good luck, son,” Wells’s father said, assuming his trademark brusqueness. “If anyone can make this mission a success, it’s you.”
He extended his arm to shake Wells’s hand, but then let it fall to his side when he realized his mistake. His only child’s arms were still shackled behind him.
Well, fuck.
I’m not denying that the writing is melodramatic—that’s what I was warned about, by the multiple people who reviewed this book for me when I first got into this show. But the difference between the first chapter and the second is that Morgan uses it effectively in the latter. There isn’t anything inherently bad about melodrama, especially in the YA genre. Teenagers are melodramatic. That’s a fact. When you’re writing about teens, for teens, melodrama is practically required.
But look at the difference between the two chapters, here:
I’m not denying that the writing is melodramatic—that’s what I was warned about, by the multiple people who reviewed this book for me when I first got into this show. But the difference between the first chapter and the second is that Morgan uses it effectively in the latter. There isn’t anything inherently bad about melodrama, especially in the YA genre. Teenagers are melodramatic. That’s a fact. When you’re writing about teens, for teens, melodrama is practically required.
But look at the difference between the two chapters, here:
She heard voices everywhere. They called to her from the corners of her dark cell. They filled the silence between her heartbeats. They screamed from the deepest recesses of her mind.
And:
He extended his arm to shake Wells’s hand, but then let it fall to his side when he realized his mistake. His only child’s arms were still shackled behind him.
To use the creative writing class jargon: the first is telling. The second is showing. You get the same result from both: they’re in a bad place. Clarke is hurting, driven to the edge of sanity by her isolation and anguish. Wells is hurting as well, torn between loyalties, and his father doesn’t know how to breach the gap. But the first just straight up tells you that, and the second shows it through body language, through a specific example.
Good writing, in my opinion, is writing that allows the reader to put the dots together. You get a lot more out of a sentence like the one about Wells and his father, because it lets you make the conclusion yourself, lets you imagine the scene and read in-between the lines, fill in the gaps with the details about Wells’ and his dad’s relationship that are just hinted at.
Clarke’s chapter on the other hand—all it does is just explain it to you. Lahiri and her father were friends. Her parents are dead. Clarke feels guilty. She thinks the guard must be from Walden or Arcadia, and here’s why. It’s boring, for that reason. It doesn’t give the reader any room to breathe.
Other stuff: Jaha mentions that the Ark is planning on “colonizing” Earth, and the word choice there is pretty deliberate. I’m so pleased that I’m not supposed to actually like the Ark Council in this book. It’s a nice change from the show.
Jaha also has the preserved skeleton of an eagle in his office, as well as “the few paintings that had survived the burning of the Louvre, and the photos of the beautiful dead cities whose names never ceased to send chills down Wells’s spine.”
So that tells us: there’s an intense fascination with nature on the Ark, which is understandable, considering their situation. The mention of the Louvre “burning” implies that the Cataclysm was probably nuclear war or strife of some kind (why call it a “burning” if the apocalypse that drove them into space was a natural disaster? It implies that it was deliberately done, maliciously). The mention of “dead, beautiful cities” is also cast as ominous, giving Wells chills, another hint that the Cataclysm was the fault of the societies that lived on Earth before, that it was something humanity did to themselves. Something they clearly took with them into space.
Also: it’s been three hundred years since the Ark launched, which makes the timeframe so much more logical than the show’s. I mean, not totally logical, but not totally ludicrous, either. God bless.
And finally: Wells mentions that Jaha arbitrarily “decided” that Earth was safe enough to send the 100 down. Which is absolutely chilling and terrible and oh my God this seems like such a shitty society to be born into, I am horrified.
Next chapter is Bellamy’s. Please, please, please let it be as enjoyable as this one; I really really want to like book!Bellamy. Really. Don’t let me down, Kass Morgan, I have so much more faith in you than I did twenty pages ago.
Good writing, in my opinion, is writing that allows the reader to put the dots together. You get a lot more out of a sentence like the one about Wells and his father, because it lets you make the conclusion yourself, lets you imagine the scene and read in-between the lines, fill in the gaps with the details about Wells’ and his dad’s relationship that are just hinted at.
Clarke’s chapter on the other hand—all it does is just explain it to you. Lahiri and her father were friends. Her parents are dead. Clarke feels guilty. She thinks the guard must be from Walden or Arcadia, and here’s why. It’s boring, for that reason. It doesn’t give the reader any room to breathe.
Other stuff: Jaha mentions that the Ark is planning on “colonizing” Earth, and the word choice there is pretty deliberate. I’m so pleased that I’m not supposed to actually like the Ark Council in this book. It’s a nice change from the show.
Jaha also has the preserved skeleton of an eagle in his office, as well as “the few paintings that had survived the burning of the Louvre, and the photos of the beautiful dead cities whose names never ceased to send chills down Wells’s spine.”
So that tells us: there’s an intense fascination with nature on the Ark, which is understandable, considering their situation. The mention of the Louvre “burning” implies that the Cataclysm was probably nuclear war or strife of some kind (why call it a “burning” if the apocalypse that drove them into space was a natural disaster? It implies that it was deliberately done, maliciously). The mention of “dead, beautiful cities” is also cast as ominous, giving Wells chills, another hint that the Cataclysm was the fault of the societies that lived on Earth before, that it was something humanity did to themselves. Something they clearly took with them into space.
Also: it’s been three hundred years since the Ark launched, which makes the timeframe so much more logical than the show’s. I mean, not totally logical, but not totally ludicrous, either. God bless.
And finally: Wells mentions that Jaha arbitrarily “decided” that Earth was safe enough to send the 100 down. Which is absolutely chilling and terrible and oh my God this seems like such a shitty society to be born into, I am horrified.
Next chapter is Bellamy’s. Please, please, please let it be as enjoyable as this one; I really really want to like book!Bellamy. Really. Don’t let me down, Kass Morgan, I have so much more faith in you than I did twenty pages ago.
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