Review for The Doomsday Book of Fairy Tales: Tigers and Mushrooms and Doggos, Oh My!
- Stephanie Evelyn
- Aug 31, 2021
- 4 min read
About a week ago, I finished Emily Brewes’ great post-climate apocalyptic Fantasy novel, The Doomsday Book of Fairy Tales, and could not believe that it was a NaNoWriMo novel with the amount of detail, thought, and heart that permeates the entire story – or should I say stories. Brewes, a Canadian author brought up in North Bay, imagines how the future world would look if the presently forecasted climate disasters that circulate the major media outlets and science journals came to fruition. She does a great job of both capturing the anxiety of this generation as well as its heart and dedication.
The premise of the novel is, in truth, a little too close to what we’re currently experiencing on a global front, what with disease and death being a major theme throughout the story. It opens on a childhood memory of the sea right on the cusp of the climate apocalypse. The protagonist, Jesse Vanderchuck, is recalling the moment their mother, father, little sister, and they went to Vancouver to visit their mother’s side of the family one last time before the family returns to Ontario to survive the globe’s impending doom. The main story then catches up with Jesse as a more middle-aged loner, scrapping to survive in the underground community beneath Toronto after their little sister runs away and their mother passes away a few years after that. It’s a remarkably grim lifestyle, but then again, it’s a grim lifestyle for everyone, no matter if they’re alone, underground or above. I think that if the novel were to surround this main narrative completely, then it would probably be too overwhelming to read from some (including me), but fortunately Brewes has wonderful little additions of fairy tales sprinkled throughout the novel, along with a talking wiener dog companion, to keep both the pace and mood up.
The side-stories are told by Jesse as they make their way through the Underground with their trusty, if somewhat disgusting and clueless, wiener dog companion, Doggo, and these fairy tales are probably my favourite aspect of the novel. From hungry talking tigers to marriages with the wind, the fairy tales never disappoint in their creativity and almost always have a happy ending to hang on to. However, what’s most clever about the novel is how it is told in a first-person retrospective so, in a sense, Jesse’s final story of the book is the one they tell about themself. It’s a beautiful element to weave in and assert that Jesse finds some sort of fantasia in their own life and has a talking animal sidekick to ice the cake as well.
However, as much as I adore the details and intricacies of the novel, there are some aspects that lost me at different points throughout. The pacing of it, especially towards the end, is not as quick as I think it should be. While I know that the subject matter almost requires a slower sense of movement, it's also pertaining to a real life doom and gloom outside of the book which makes the readers anxieties climb and calls for some sort of action beyond hunting rabbits to keep the reader's mind from wandering towards the anxieties of life beyond the Doomsday page. I also personally get unrealistically upset over vague endings that would likely just blur out mid-action if it were a movie, so my opinions are certainly biased.
Though my biggest note that I wanted to make about this novel’s plot, especially for one by a Canadian author, is how there’s constant mention of indecision being the reason why the climate apocalypse happens. Genuinely, I don’t claim to know everything about the environmental movement, but I can say with certainty that there are clear paths towards climate safety, clean drinking water, and the eradication of fossil fuels that have been laid out by Indigenous land defenders and water protectors for decades, if not centuries, with proven results as Indigenous-managed lands continue to be some of the most bio-diverse spaces on the planet (look it up, Barbara). I’m also aware that this novel is set in a fictional world, but it seems to be a world rooted in the possibilities of this one and a serious side affect of the words on the page is the way it informs the audience in their ways of thinking moving forward.
I often found myself facing existential gloom for hours on end while reading this novel until I remembered to keep in mind that life would’ve already been much worse for us had Black and Indigenous warriors not been fighting the right fight with anti-capitalism, anti-racism, and intersectional environmentalism being at the core of the movement. I know that it’s easy to get caught up in hopelessness concerning the environment, and I apologize if this sounds preachy, but it’s also easy to see how rallying for what we know is right under the guidance of Indigenous land stewards is the solution that the novel is clearly looking for.
That said, I love that the book has a genuine love and appreciation for the natural world and how beautiful Turtle Island is. I love how it also functions as a semi-warning for what could be without action and overall, I think that the novel is wonderfully gross and gorgeous with such heart and an impeccable eye for details and nuances. I recommend this book, too, because it reminded me of what’s important and hope it does for you, as well!
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