I recently re-read Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer and have some things to say. I’ll try and keep this book review spoiler-free for the first section and then give a notice when I creep over into spoiler territory. So, heads up!
I read this originally a few years ago and then saw the movie, which I really loved. So, I wanted to go back and check my original opinion on the book (which was not favorable) to see if it grew on me at all. The short answer is…not really. I liked some of the aspects of the book in both readings but there are just some things that made it difficult for me to really get pulled into the story. I understand that there are a lot of people that really love this book, and the extended Southern Reach trilogy. I’m just giving my perspective to those that might be interested.
First, my big issue is with the narrative style that was chosen. The first-person narrative is always a big ask for me as a reader. It’s really difficult to clamp me to one person’s headspace and then ask me to commit to a fully empathetic perspective on the world through their eyes. That connection becomes even more tenuous when you are dealing with a compromised–and sometimes completely unreliable–narrator. That’s the case for our main character, “the biologist,” in this book. The entire story is presented loosely as journal entries from one member of a four-person expeditionary team into “Area X.” I say “loosely” because the story doesn’t really seem to stick with the journal structure as it moves along. An issue that could be caused by a few circumstances that I’ll talk about in the spoilers section.
This causes a few difficulties for me as a reader. The biggest issue is that the main character is a scientist and seems to be wanting to keep this journal free of any real personal/human information–an issue she recognizes and explains as being further complicated by her own personality–that is usually used in a first-person narrative to make the main character relatable. Without something about their perspective that I can connect with, the story reads as a case study rather than as a compelling story.
The benefit of this character is their completely unique perspective on the things that are happening around them. The plot of the story is filtered through the eyes of a biologist, which means the information we are given is completely focused on both internal and external biological observations. That leads to some very beautiful descriptions of the surroundings, lifeforms, and interactions that are happening but leaves me as a reader sort of secluded from the actual “stakes” within the story.
As I said, the upside of Annihilation is in world-building. The story unfolds to provide mysteries, wonder, and action that should make for a great read. The problem is all these things are presented without the one ingredient that I need to really get lost in a story with as much potential as this one–emotion. There’s no real rise and fall of emotional progress with the character we are experiencing this through. As a matter of fact, even the secondary characters (with the exception of possibly the surveyor) do not display what I’d consider genuine emotional responses to what’s happening. The fact that none of the characters are even given names also amplifies this issue. I understand the lack of naming plays to this main character’s own perspective and scientific method for communicating her experience, but it leaves me with very little to feel connected to even when things become high-stress.
I spent a lot of time trying to self-assess my reaction to this book and figure out why I was left unfulfilled and disconnected from this story. I know the author was working on some experimental storytelling concepts, and in some ways, they were very effective. Having so many incredible things happening, and building such a unique and foreign story scape should make for an amazing story. For me, unfortunately, this one just doesn’t stick the landing in a satisfying way.
The revisit to the book did give me some insights into why Alex Garland and the movie production team made some of the decisions they made that diverge pretty substantially from the source material. All in, I’d say this is a good exercise in experimental creative writing, but I’m not compelled to read another one.
SPOILER SECTION
Okay, so let’s cover the good stuff first. I really love when an author stays vague on the details when it comes to a cosmological, supernatural, or extra-scientific event. That’s one thing the book does better than the movie. Although I totally get the decision the movie-makers had to make to bring the story into a compelling scope. I just personally enjoy having more questions than answers when it comes to things like this. The events of “area X” are much more interesting and scary when you have absolutely no real point of reference to why they’re happening. Is this an extraterrestrial event? Is this a biological or environmental occurrence? Is it a government experiment? We aren’t given any real answers, and our narrative main character is asking a lot of the same questions.
The early discovery that all members of the expeditionary party have been voluntarily receiving hypnotic suggestions also throws another concern into the mix. If we are stuck in the mind of one character, and we know that character’s perspective has been actively compromised from the start, it becomes increasingly difficult to accept what’s being shared without pushing back on an unreliable narrator. This is made even worse when that narrator actively tells the reader that she’s been manipulating their story to withhold information and control the narrative of their own journal observations.
The unreliable narrative issue just left me feeling very alienated from the person I’m experiencing this story through, and frustrated to know I’m being manipulated openly. By the time we are transitioning from the second act into the final conflict and revelations, I’m not engaged with the main character in any meaningful way. I’m reading her accounts with a very existential separation from what’s happening. The discovery at the top (bottom?) of the “tower” and the interactions with “the crawler” are all as provocative as reading real-time crime events in a newspaper. I don’t feel any real internal conflict or anxiety when I’m reading these cataclysmic experiences. Sure, I spend some time musing philosophically about what the cause might be or what the author is expressing on a deeper level, but I’m never in the moment “feeling” what my character is feeling. I’m just left as an outside observer.
In the end, I closed the book and just sat for a while trying to come up with what I was feeling. I can honestly say that the book didn’t stick with me at all. There are some environmental descriptions that I might be able to recover from memory at some time, but otherwise, this is a book that will be all together forgettable. This is likely why I had to re-read it this time. Hopefully, having put down my thoughts here will save me from having to revisit a third time.