Anomaly is a 2013
young adult science fiction novel by Krista McGee. Here, in a post-apocalyptic
eugenics lab, a girl is singled out for execution because she experiences
emotions.
Anomaly is
reminiscent of a number of books and films, including The Hunger Games, The Island,
and THX 1138. The problem is not that
Anomaly ever feels too derivative,
but that it never really carves out its own niche. A little more setting and
world building would have gone a long way toward making the book more immersive
and giving it a distinct identity.
Anomaly follows
all the traditions established by The
Hunger Games for the currently popular female-protagonized dystopian young
adult sci fi genre, no matter how forced, such as writing in the first-person
present tense and including the obligatory two love interests, regardless of
how believable. This doesn’t help Anomaly’s
quest for identity, either.
Anomaly turns out
to be an overtly Christian book, and McGee does a nice job of presenting the
Gospel accurately and exploring faith in the face of death. Unfortunately, the
Gospel presentation itself feels forced, like McGee has an agenda, and this
contrivance saps meaning from Thalli’s obviously inevitable conversion.
Contrivance, which turns out to be widespread throughout the
book, is Anomaly’s biggest problem.
Things happen because McGee needs them to happen, perhaps leading the reader to
ask things like “Why on earth don’t they ever lock Thalli’s door?” “Why doesn’t
anybody seem to care that she has constant access to John?” and “Who the heck
is responsible for the cameras around here?” (never mind questions like “Why do
they call them ‘the Ancients’ when this is like two generations later and at
least one is still alive?” and “Why don’t they ever kiss?”).
Complicating this criticism, however, is the fact that McGee
tries to address nearly all these contrivances in the last few pages. It’s a
nice try at getting away with it, I guess, but it’s pretty unsatisfying, it may
make the reader wonder at just how oblivious these characters are, and it
really doesn’t have the air of competence about it.
There are other issues. McGee’s writing is at a lower level
than one typically expects from this genre: there are a lot of simple,
see-Dick-run sentences, and it doesn’t help that Thalli is a master of stating
the obvious or that everyone talks to her like she’s a little child (which may
be necessary for the character but is grating for the reader). The general lack
of contractions in speech makes for some stilted dialogue (but these test-tube
kids do use them every now and then),
and McGee has a tendency to go back and forth between the past and present
tenses in an awkward way.
Thalli herself is just too passive to be a compelling
protagonist, as by and large, she’s acted upon by various other characters, clueless,
led here and there by their actions. No, the real protagonist of Anomaly is Berk, who perpetually risks
both his life and career to act on behalf of Thalli. But he remains on the
sideline as a supporting character, appearing when needed to save the day or
advance the plot.
Anomaly is a book
I wanted to like, and I take no pleasure in giving it a bad review. But the volume
of contrivance and the quality of the writing are deal-breakers.
NOT RECOMMENDED
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Disclosure of Material
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book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review.
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“Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
