Desert Creatures
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
“A vivid investigation of faith, perseverance, and human violence as they exist at the end of the world . . . Scintillating.” —Brian Evenson, author of Song for the Unraveling World
This “genre-shredding” (Tor.com) feminist dystopian eco-horror, perfect for fans of The Last of Us, traces a girl’s coming-of-age on a post-apocalyptic trek through the Southwest.
In a bleak, desiccated future, eleven-year-old Magdala and her father are forced to flee through the desolate landscape of the American Southwest, searching for shelter and peace. Pursued by horrors both unnatural and all-too-human, they join a pilgrimage to the holy city of Las Vegas, where it is said that vigilante saints reside, bright with neon power. Magdala, born with a clubfoot, is determined to be healed there. But one by one, the pilgrims and her father fall victim to an eerie, all-consuming sickness—leaving Magdala to fend for herself in the wilderness.
After surviving for years on her own, Magdala grows tired of waiting for her miracle. She turns her gaze to Las Vegas once more, taking an exiled Vegas priest hostage to guide her as she navigates the unsettling expanse of the desert and the hungry, dark ambitions of men. Even as she nears the holy land, Magdala must choose: survival or salvation?
In this moving debut novel, acclaimed short fiction writer Kay Chronister twines the strange, terrible beauty of the desert into a haunting exploration of faith and hope. Bold and disquieting, Desert Creatures is a surreal examination of humanity and the myths we tell ourselves to survive.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
This stomach-roiling dystopian western from Chronister (Thin Places) follows Magdala, age nine, when she starts on her yearslong pilgrimage to Las Vegas, now a holy city housing the relics of a saint she hopes will cure her clubfoot. If The Canterbury Tales was set in future Sonoran and Mojave deserts, it might look a little like this, as Magdala, her father, and their companions tell stories to pass the time. Across the novel's six sections, Magdala grows into a young adult and becomes hardened by her experiences with cruelty in the desert. Chronister offers little respite in what becomes an increasingly hopeless journey. The only real moment of kindness comes from the "cactus-sitters," a group who meditate on top of cacti and are generous to travelers who stumble across them; the rest of this far-future world has devolved into an every person for themselves society and the barren environment only fuels the characters' individualism. The result is challenging reading made all the more difficult by how plausible it feels as a model of the disastrous effects of climate change and scarcity. Readers who can stomach the unrelenting bleakness and depression will find plenty to hold their interest in Chronister's strange and frightening vision.