Customer Reviews

The Children of Men

5 star:		(31)
4 star:		(46)
3 star:		(34)
2 star:		(17)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

Note: for those who have seen the movie, remove your preconceptions when starting to read this book. It is quite unlike the movie.

The premise is simple - the entire human population has been rendered infertile. Any scientific attempts to find or fix the cause have failed spectatularly. And so, the world is heading to a very quiet and desperate extinction. The population ages and diminishes as people await the inevitable fading away of humanity. More importantly, hope and meaning have gone. There is no longer a point in doing anything because it will all soon disappear. The result is a world of atrocities and chaos. These have been largely avoided in the UK due to the rational dictatorship of the Warden and his cabinet, who have engineered calm and stability, with many tradeoffs on human rights and freedoms. Enter Otto, the Warden's cousin who is an academic and an unsympathetic snob. He is drawn into the beginnings of an extremely small, almost laughable rebellion, but one that changes Otto and the future of the country forever.

This is an extremely simple novel in its world description. Everything flows naturally from the premise, including all the new neuroses that society is stuck with. The book almost feels sparse. So if you insist on fast-paced thrillers only this is not for you. The reason I loved it was because in its sparseness it gives itself - and the reader - a lot of space to think and consider the issues. Unlike the movie where the government is sadistic and evil, things are much less black-and-white in the novel. There is almost an ambivalence for most of the work as to the question of whether the Warden's methods are wrong. The book is very emotional and almost spiritual -- James is magnificent at giving a sense of longing and nihilism present in a world that has no future. It's worth a read just for that.

This subtle and thought-provoking work of science fiction is quite different from P. D. James' detective stories, but as well-written as the best of them. The premise is brilliantly simple: in 1995, all over the world, the human race has become incapable of propagation; now, in 2021, an aging and dwindling population faces an existence without future, hope, or apparent purpose. England has become an outwardly benevolent police state, maintaining a veneer of normality with the tacit acquiescence of an apathetic population. James does not belabor the process by which these social changes have taken place, but her vision is all too plausible.

I read the novel in the movie-tie-in edition, with a picture of Clive Owen on the cover looking through a broken window of grimy glass. From what I have seen of the trailer, the photo is a perfect summary of the movie's atmosphere of apocalyptic urban decay, but it couldn't be less suitable as an illustration for James' book. I shall have to wait to see whether this is merely a question of emphasis, in that the scenes shown in the trailer perhaps do not represent the balance of the whole, or whether the entire movie has been transposed to a quite different world. For now, I am writing only about the book.

Although the future setting may take the reader into an alternate reality, the book is still very much anchored in the familiar world of the present. A common theme of all James' novels is what happens when the civilized world, the comfortable world of the upper middle classes, is touched by evil, and the books depend upon the author's ability to invoke that world and its inhabitants. The first half of the novel takes place in and around Oxford, the city in which nothing ever changes, as one character remarks. And when the action goes further afield, it moves into the English countryside, a little overgrown perhaps, but restored to its primal richness and described with a loving eye. The more tense the action gets, the more James seems to linger on brief vignettes of rural beauty.

The people are also reassuringly normal. Theodore Fanon, the leading character, is a fiftyish professor of Victorian history, safe in his ivory tower. Xan Lyppiatt, the Warden of England, though effectively the country's dictator, is Theodore's cousin and childhood friend. The four-person Council of England (one of whose members is described as "the universal grandmother") seeks only to provide its people with "protection, comfort, and pleasure" and give them a measure of dignity in which to end their days. This is not Orwell's 1984; there may be ruthlessness here, but no obvious hypocrisy or corruption. The evil, if evil there is, cannot simply be ascribed to some Big Brother figure; it is always there as a potential in people like ourselves, and there are several places in the story in which apparently good characters are at least tempted towards the ways of evil. I find the apparent normality of the characters and setting truly frightening -- far more so than a feral wasteland where it is every man for himself.

I described the book as science fiction, but it can also be read on other levels. It is very much the work of an older writer facing a life that has passed its mid-point. The universal childlessness can be seen as an allegory for a perceived loss of purpose in modern society, reflected in the pursuit of pleasure, the destruction of the environment, and the dissolution of faith. As a minor but significant theme, this is also a religious work, about the meaning of God in a world which seems to deny the most significant aspect of his existence: his role as the Creator of Life. But while these matters may provide food for later thought, I would not want to make the novel seem too solemn. Quite simply put, it is an excellent story, succinctly told, full of character, emotion, and suspense, and suffused with nostalgia for the richness of English rural life. Read it!

I have never read any works of PD James - however I wanted to read the inspiration to the film recently released.

Many reviewers feel that James is 'overly descriptive'... and yet I felt that was what kept me drawn in. Some writers 'write' ... PD James paints her story with her words. Not to mention so much of the descriptions were metaphores of the very stark world in which these characters found themselves in.

This isn't a book you rush through for plot... its a book you savor, with hopes that all will be well with the world in the end. Highly recommended.

The premise of this novel is intriguing. Unfortunately, the intrigue ends there and is replaced with a drab portrayal of a depressing future.

The greatest problem is I have with this book is the detachment with which the year 2021 is explored. Objective perspective may work well in a detective novel, but in The Children of Men, James' prose is affected by the same ennui that has overtaken her Twenty-First Century world. In the opening chapters, for instance, there is a scene where one woman brutally destroys the porcelain doll another woman has been treating as a baby. The initial moment of violence is shocking, but beyond that the scene lacks emotional impact: We see the people around her react by not reacting, simply continuing on with their lives. Unfortunately, the ultimate result of James' technique is that we don't care if England is living under a totalitarian regime because none of her citizens, her protagonist chief among them, seems to care either.

Another problem comes from the fact that nothing exists in 2021 that didn't exist in 1992 when the book was written, and for the most part little that existed in the 1980s is present either: no computers, no cell phones, etc. If James took little risk in exploring the emotional depths of her characters, she took even less in exploring the potential for the use (or misuse) of hypothetical future technology. Cloning, an obvious solution for the book's dilemma, is never even mentioned. Why set the book in the future if everything about it is identical to the past? Sure, things won't come to pass exactly as you imagine, but 1995 came and went without global infertility and that's the element people enjoy most about the book.

Finally, the novel fails to look at the situation in England, which we are told - but never shown - is despotic, by comparing it to the situation in any other European country. At the end of Book 1 Faron travels to France, Spain and Italy, but we're never told if or how things fare better or worse there. His travels serve only to provide a reason for the time gap between Books 1 and 2. James misses an opportunity to provide a context for or comment on the political situation in England, and all the reader can do is shrug his or her shoulders and keep reading (the ennui is contagious).

Maybe there's a subtext I'm missing - maybe James is saying that people can numb themselves into accepting totalitarianism, or that nothing really changes, or that life's the same all over - but if she is she's doing it far too subtly for most of her readership (based on the majority of reviews here). I don't regret reading this book, but I can't find much in it to recommend to others.

As I was reading THE CHILDREN OF MEN, I couldn't help thinking about 1984 and BRAVE NEW WORLD. The similarities are certainly there. It's 2021 and England now has a dictator (or Warden). On the surface he seems benevolent enough, but he will do anything to stay in power. P.D. James also likes to employ the Greek alphabet, labeling the two sections of the book Omega and Alpha. The children born in the year 1995 are called Omegas. They are not only physically striking and intelligent, but also violent and cruel.

The book starts on Friday, January 1, 2021 and the last human being to be born on earth has been killed in a pub brawl. He was twenty-five years old. The narrator of the book is a college professor, Theo Faron, first cousin of the Warden of England and also once his principal adviser.

Faron joins forces with five people who are plotting against the warden's policies of voluntary suicide and deporting of criminals to the Isle of Man as well as the virtual enslavement of immigrants called Sojourners. Faron falls in love with one of the females, Julian, who he later learns is pregnant.

The theme of the novel seems to be "power corrupts and absolute power corrupts completely." The warden, a man named Xan, apparently started out with good intentions, but then used "the end justifies the means" to keep the surviving citizens of England safe. James shows us Xan's background to some degree, but I think he could use a bit more meat on his bones. Where did he go wrong? What incident provoked him into employing nefarious methods?

Much of the book reads like a thriller as Theo tries to help the five escape to Wales. James kept me turning pages and that's all you can ask from any book. I was especially impressed with the ending in that it merely suggests what might happen next, but she leaves enough clues so that you shouldn't have too much trouble formulating the ending she had in mind.

The Children of Men, by P.D. James, the book on which the recent film was based, is a dire what-if tale of a world without a future, caused by sudden, inexplicable universal sterility. The story unfolds twenty-five years after the last baby was born, around a middle-aged university professor in London, who had become detached from life and humanity far before this crisis. Through his journal entries the reader learns how society is dying: the emergent pathologies, the devolutions, the apathy. One day, however, a compelling young woman crosses his path and captures his attention. This is where the story takes off.

The basic premise of the book and film are the same (worldwide inability to procreate); however, James tells a much better, a much more psychologically and emotionally haunting story. I saw the movie first and thought that it was a pretty good story and well-acted (by Michael Caine, Clive Owen, Julianne Moore) despite the pro-illegal sob-story subplot. Then I read the book and thought, this a great and provocative story as is - can stand alone, without the Hollywood political posturing.

Usually when I see a film that was made from a book, I read the book first (as fast as I can.) This time I saw the film first, and it was amazing.

Then I read the book.

I have to say, this is the first time in my life that I can honestly say "the film was better than the book."

The film had a more honest ending, believe it or not.

The story focuses on the man. It begins in Omega. The first half is a long, drawn out reflection on this man and his world and his life and his history and how bitter and annoying and pathetic and sad he is and how he knows it, and doesn't want to share it. Then something changes in him and he finds hope and light. That is Alpha.

Then the book flips over in the second half and does the most annoying things. It's MUCH better handled in the film overall.

In general, the writing and prose is really great and PD James is in top form, but the story??? Again, weirdly, much better as a film. Totally different take on it all in the film. Be prepared for a wild ride in the film, but more of a pony trot in the book, and, as far as I was concerned, a rather predictable and pathetic ending.

Often the appeal of science fiction lies in the genre's ability to extrapolate from the trends of the present and project them into the future. One novel exemplifying this tendency is "The Children Of Men" by P.D. James.

In "The Children Of Men", the reader finds a world where the population has become inexplicably infertile and must deal with the stresses of a dwindling population and the psychological angst that results when many realize what's the point of life if it will come to a screeching halt in a scant generation. Such a milieu is explored through the eyes of Oxford Historian Theodore Faron who becomes a reluctant intermediary between a group of bumbling, idealistic revolutionaries and the dictatorial Warden of England who happens to be Theodore's cousin.

The group starts out with the goal of enacting needed reforms such as better treatment of migrant workers known as Sojourners and restoring order to an out-of-control penal colony on the Isle of Man where the inmates --- some not as criminal as the general population is led to believe --- are left to fend for themselves. However, as the story unfolds a matter of greater urgency comes to the forefront of the plot, namely that a couple within the cell has been able to conceive a child.

"The Children Of Men" is not the most riveting example of the dystopian police state novel. It often gets bogged in the details of the personal experiences, emotions, and perceptions of its protagonist Theodore Faron. Yet at times the book provides glimpses into a morally eerie world where the outrages of our own day are allowed to fester to ghastly proportions.

For example, the elderly are encouraged to commit ritualized suicide in a ceremony called the "Quietus", which Theo discovers is not quite so voluntary for those trying to back out at the last minute. Since people no longer have children, they instead lavish their nurturing affections on pets, even having their kittens christened at formalized baptisms. Those born into the last generation are given free reign and little moral instruction --- as such they are self-absorbed to the point of arrogance and even murder.

Of particular interest is the frequent mention of religion made throughout the novel. Two of the revolutionaries are motivated by Christian beliefs. However, others hide behind the cloak of aberrant faith as a scam to enrich themselves personally.

"Roaring Roger" is a fire-and-brimstone televangelist preaching that the global infertility is God's judgment while playing on guilt and fear to finance his own lavish lifestyle. Rosie McClure is more broadminded in her religious views, but so much so her brain roles right out as she preaches a gospel of nonjudgmental hedonism. The Church of England is characterized as "no longer with a common doctrine or common liturgy, [and] so fragmented that there was no knowing what some sects might have come to believe." One just wishes Ms. James had spent as much time in such socio-clerical exposition as she did in embroidering the extraneously tedious background details of Professor Faron's psyche.

The political situation described in "The Children Of Men" serves as a cautionary tale where our own institutions are headed if we are not careful. In most speculative narratives dealing with one form of totalitarianism or the other, the regimes under consideration often lord over the masses with brutality.

In "The Children Of Men", however, the Warden's regime is rather genteel as far as dictatorships go if you happen to be a good little citizen and not to stir up offense. But then again, most of the citizens don't cause much trouble anyway since most have lost interest in political participation and the Warden is careful to maintain illusions of democracy. Of this society very much like our own, one is reminded of Francis Schaeffer's warnings in "A Christian Manifesto" about comfort and affluence becoming the organizing principles in a political system where higher truths such as freedom and self-reliance are increasingly seen as impediments to rather than a necessity of just government and good order.

Brian W. Aldiss's great novel Greybeard, published in the sixties, uses the same themes as James (i.e. no children are being born on the planet) but is original and funny, elegaic and sad. Yet Aldiss's novel is sidelined as science fiction and James's book, which uses very tired and unoriginal sf tropes, is described by its fans as 'too real to be sf'. This is nonsense.
If you really want to see this theme explored with originality by a fine writer, go to the Aldiss. This is one of the best examples I know of a bad book by an establishment writer being admired by people with no knowledge of fine literary sf and believing that it 'can't be sf because it's too real'. If you want literature which deals with realities try some Aldiss, Ballard, M. J. Harrison, China Mieville, Thomas M. Disch, John Sladek and a dozen others. This book was an insult to my intelligence.

I first bought this book in the early 1990s for an odd reason, namely, that I myself had thought of the premise (that the world is a afflicted by some kind of plague making everyone infertile) and was curious to see what an experienced author would do with it. My first attempt to read the book occurred then, and I got about 2/3 of the way through the book, giving up due to boredom, depression, loss of interest.

A couple months ago (2006), I decided to take another crack at it, starting all over again from the beginning. This time, I had a completely different experience. Never having read anything else by PD James, I cannot comment on how this compares with her other books, but I can highly recommend this one.

First of all, the premise becomes utterly real to the reader. One is drawn into this world where child-birth has become a thing of the past, and the youngest people (in the year 2021) are 25 years old. The oft-times heart-wrenching depiction of how people react, while depressing at times, is convincing.

Secondly, the characters are sharply drawn and the reader gets to know each one of them intimately. Unlike most novels where there is a hero and an anti-hero, this novel has no true heroes. Everyone is deeply flawed, but no one is truly evil. Even the (alleged) villain of the book, the "Warden" of England is hardly Big Brother of Orwellian infamy. Neither the "Warden" nor his cousin Theo Faron, the (alleged) hero of the book, are completely admirable or contemptible. The same is true of all this book's characters. In other words, they are all completely human.

Finally, the themes explored by this novel are universal--love, morality, religious faith. One universal philosophical question that both the "evil" and the "good" characters pose to the reader is whether evil actions are justified in pursuit of a good cause.

Like some other readers, I too found the book tedious at times and wished that it would just get on to the story at hand without getting so bogged down in clever but distracting descriptive allusions. So many good writers do this sort of thing--showing off their flair for language while boring the reader. But overall, this is a worthy, thought-provoking, captivating read.