by
Sarah Lotz
470
pages, Hodder and Stoughton
Review
by Pat Black
Adventure
reading assignment: buy this one in an airport departure lounge and read the
opening chapters before you get on a plane.
Sarah
Lotz’s The Three starts with four
aviation disasters. Yes, on-board trolley service, I did say I wanted two
G&Ts.
It
is horribly plausible, particularly when it comes to examining rescue workers’
and first responders’ experiences. We go into the nuts and bolts of
catastrophic events, the gory details that people have to deal with somewhere
in the world every single day.
So,
with your nerves nicely shredded and spring rolled as an appetiser, things move
from a story about mass tragedy to full-on weirdness.
Out
of the four plane crashes, only three people survive: children, all roughly the
same age, around 10 or younger. The fact of their survival seems to be a
miracle. Is there something supernatural about it? Every religious nutjob and
conspiracy theorist on the planet seems to think so…
None
of the four crashes are down to terrorism – they all seem to have plausible technical
explanations, like mechanical problems, bird strike, engineering botch jobs.
The jets come down in the sea off Portugal, in the Florida Everglades, in the
heart of a South African township and, creepily of all, into the heart of the
Aokigahara woodland at the foot of Mount Fuji in Japan – which you may have
heard referred to as the “suicide forest”.
The
book mostly takes the form of a fake “non-fiction” book by a journalist called
Elspeth Martins, which in itself takes in first-person interviews from leading
players in the drama, as well as other media such as online chat forums,
transcribed radio shows and news reports. This epistolary style put me in mind
of how Stephen King handled Carrie,
with various sources and multiple perspectives giving the story a rich sense of
texture, but on a more global scale.
We
never directly interact with The Three, as the survivors of the Black Thursday
disasters soon become known in the media frenzy to follow. We instead look at
the principal characters who help look after them – including a New York
grandmother who takes in the American child; Paul Craddock, the uncle of the
British girl who survives the sea crash; and the young cousin of the Japanese
boy who walks away from the Fuji disaster.
Lotz
skilfully blends in a sense of location in each of the sections. The parts with
Paul Craddock and the young survivor, Jess, felt authentically British,
especially when it came to the behaviour of the press. The Japanese section mainly
concerns the interaction between Chiyoko, the cousin of Hiro, the Japanese
survivor, and a shut-in called Ryu on a message board. However, the main
American part doesn’t look at Bobby Small’s family as much as it looks at
Pastor Len, a bible belt loon.
Pastor
Len gets excited about a message sent by one of his flock to her sister as she
lies dying in the wreckage at Aokigahara. This seems to refer to the miracle
boy, and appears to carry a warning about him just before she expires. Pastor
Len makes a link between The Three and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse mentioned
in the bible. Soon, a cult known as the “Pamelists” grows up around the
supposed prophecy of the American lady who died in the forest.
A
lot of the testimony about Pastor Len comes from Lolo, the sex worker he spends
a lot of his spare time with. That should tell you all you need to know about
Pastor Len, but he sets a dangerous example to unhinged, desperate people who
look to the world of conspiracy theories and half-baked crypto-spirituality to
get a sense of belief, and fulfilment.
This
hysteria reaches fever pitch when Pastor Len looks at the passenger list of the
South African crash – the one where there were no survivors – and picks out a
young boy about the same age as The Three. This lad, Len asserts, must have
survived. He is the Fourth Horseman. He must be found. Soon, Len and his
backers put up a $200,000 reward for anyone who can find Kenneth, with
predictably chaotic results.
Where
The Three works best is when it plays
with its central mystery. At certain points, you’ll be convinced that there is
some sort of supernatural agency at play. At others, you’ll be swayed by the
idea that it’s all a delusion – a mixture of hysteria and trauma causing people
to believe that The Three are not what they appear to be.
This
is most harrowing in the mental breakdown of Paul, the uncle of Jess. First of
all, the notoriously sensitive and mature British press feast on Paul’s life –
he is gay, and an out-of-work actor – causing him to go to ground with the
little girl who was plucked from the sea. Traumatised by the disaster in his
own right, Paul begins to experience strange things in the night. He believes
his brother, who died in the crash, is haunting him, with a particular warning
about the girl.
Paul
begins to pay attention to one of the competing theories about The Three: that
they have all been replaced by extraterrestrials, intent on harming the human
race. He begins to drink heavily.
In
America, Bobby Small’s grandfather, Reuben, seems to make a miraculous recovery
from Alzheimer’s. In Japan, the boy Hiro’s guardian – another uncle – appears
overly fond of a new type of android which mimics human beings to a spookily
accurate degree – even down to simulated breathing. Locked away from the world,
Hiro will only communicate to others through his Surrabot – an exact mechanised
replica of the boy.
Lotz
is adept in the art of the small twist – little bits of information which alter
your perception of events, but not necessarily the course of the story at
large. For a novel printed on good old paper, The Three is plugged into how the international media has changed
beyond all recognition in just 15 years, and how our notions of obscure, occult
things have evolved along with technology.
I
once lamented how the digital revolution - particularly the popularisation of
instant, pixel-perfect photography - all but killed crypto-zoology,
ghost-hunting and UFO-spotting across the world. Nowadays those Loch Ness
Monster/Bigfoot/Spacers shots have to be Hollywood-grade in order for us to
take them in any way seriously. A few bubbles or a sparkly weather balloon in
thick cloud isn’t going to cut it any more. But this hasn’t turned us into
hard-bitten cynics overnight. If anything, thanks to the internet, people have
become even more credulous of totally made-up stuff.
In
place of the old unseen world has come a new set of quasi-beliefs – mostly
regarding conspiracy theories. To delve into some of these online is to gain a
brief glimpse into the inside of a maniac’s head. For a laugh, I once looked at
conspiracy theories relating to the film director Stanley Kubrick. My head was
soon spinning with it, and that’s just the stuff about Eyes Wide Shut.
Lotz
looks at how these theories, no matter how daft or implausible, begin to affect
the minds of people who are either suffering from severe mental illness or in
the grip of paranoid delusions. It leaves us in no doubt that there are exploiters
and exploited, but never sacrifices the central mystery - are The Three simply incredibly
lucky people who survived against astronomical odds, or is there something
paranormal at work?
You’ll
have to read it to find out. I recommend that you do.
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