The Economist USA 03.28.2020

74 Books & arts The EconomistMarch 28th 2020

A

fterproducingthreerespectable

thrillers,theCanadianauthorEmily

StJohnMandelraisedherprofilewith

herboldlyinventivefourthnovel.“Sta-

tionEleven”(2014)tellsofa flupandemic

thatdevastatestheEarth’spopulation,

andfollowsa groupoftravellingShake-

speareanactorswhoperformforthe

survivors 20 yearslater.Thenarrative’s

before-and-afterstructurebeautifully

balancesthelifeanddeathofa single

individualagainstthefateofcivilisation.

Beyonditsgrimdystopia,thestoryhints

ata bravenewworldfoundedonhope

andhumanity.

Today,“StationEleven”isastimelyas

a novelcanbe.MsMandel’snewbook,

“TheGlassHotel”,partlyrevolvesaround

anothercatastrophe,onlythisoneis

financialandhopeismoreelusive.

Swappingthepost-apocalypticfuturefor

therecentpast,andchartingtheche-

queredfatesofa widecastofcharacters,

shespinsa beguilingtaleaboutskewed

morals,recklesslivesandnecessary

meansofescape.

ThemainprotagonistisVincent,a

young(female)bartenderata swishhotel

onVancouverIslandwhohada tragic

childhood.Onenighta viciousanony-

mousmessageisscrawledonthebuild-

ing:“Whydon’tyouswallowbroken

glass.”Oneoftheguests,a shipping

executivenamedLeonPrevant,isdis-

turbedbythegraffiti.Vincentherselfis

shockedandcontemplatesfleeing,even

disappearing.Instead,afterserving

drinkstothehotel’sowner,Jonathan

Alkaitis,sheseizesanopportunityand

elopeswithhimtoNewYork.

Theresheadjuststohernewroleasa

trophywifein“thekingdomofmoney”.

Alas,allthatglittersturnsouttohave

beenfraudulentlyacquired.Alkaitisis

runninga multibillion-dollarPonzi

schemereminiscentofBernieMadoff’s;

itscollapsewipesoutfortunesandforces

Vincenttostartafresh,thistimeasa

cookona containership.Butwhileatsea

shedisappearsoverboard.Leon,oneof

manyinvestorsruinedbyAlkaitis,is

chargedwithsolvingthemystery.Did

Vincentfallorwasshepushed?Andhas

shewasheduponanothershorereadyto

reinventherselfagain?

“TheGlassHotel”isa sprawling,

immersivebook.Inplacesit isdisori-

entating,asthenarrativechopsbetween

timelinesandperspectives.Minorchar-

acters,suchasVincent’shalf-brother,

driftinandout.Andyetthenovel’sscope

andbrimmingvitalityarealsoits

strengths.Vincent’sencounterswiththe

plutocracyarememorablyrealised;so

areAlkaitis’sconcoctionofa “counter-

life”inhisprisoncellandhisemployees’

strugglestosavetheirskins.

Intheend,allthestoriesaredrawn

togetherbya singlequestion:canyou

everescapewhatyouhavedoneinthe

past,andwhathasbeendonetoyou?

“Therearesomanywaystohaunta

person,”theauthorwrites,“ora life.”

Woman overboard

Disappearing acts

The Glass Hotel.By Emily St John Mandel.

Knopf; 320 pages; $26.95. Picador; £14.99

W

henprofessorVladimirPersikov’s

wife runs off with an opera singer,

she leaves him a note. “An unbearable

shudder of revulsion is aroused in me by

your frogs,” she tells him. In “The Fatal

Eggs”, a little-known novella by Mikhail

Bulgakov, a pestilence spawned by the pro-

fessor’s zoological research threatens not

just his marriage, but civilisation itself.

The scourge in the story—published in

1925 and set three years later—is not a dis-

ease, exactly. In their imagination of epi-

demics, novels such as Mary Shelley’s “The

Last Man”, “The Plague” by Albert Camus or

José Saramago’s haunting “Blindness”

might seem more apposite in the time of

covid-19. Nor is this biting tale Bulgakov’s

finest work (that is his satirical fantasia,

“The Master and Margarita”). But as a para-

ble of bureaucratic bungling, avoidable di-

saster and drastic countermeasures, it is

horribly relevant.

In his laboratory in Moscow, Persikov

discovers a “ray of life” that makes amoe-

bae and tadpoles reproduce at speed.

Thrilled, he orders extra kit from Germany

and exotic eggs from across the Atlantic

(like the virus, this is a globalised affair).

Foreign powers covet the new technology,

but the Soviet state requisitions it to help

kick-start poultry production. The apparat-

chik in charge of the state farm, Alexander

Faight, was once a flautist in Odessa; he is

carrying his instrument when he encoun-

ters a giant serpent, which he tries to pacify

with a waltz from “Eugene Onegin”. He

fails, and the beast eats his wife.

The Russian author takes digs at the

church, heedless carousers in the streets,

blinkered scientists—and, naturally, at the

Bolsheviks. But his depiction of blasé, in-

competent officialdom resonates across

the ages and all forms of government.

“Honest to God, it’ll work out,” Faight says

blithely of the poultry plan, like a president

recommending an unproven drug. Disas-

ter ensues because the authorities botch

their deliveries, sending the hens’ eggs

meant for the farm to Persikov, and his ex-

otic specimens to the farm. Then, after the

creatures hatch, the first, all-too familiar

response is disbelief and denial. Faight

stammers a report to two security agents;

one thinks he is hallucinating, the other

that a circus animal might have escaped. A

newspaper editor dismisses an urgent tele-

gram as a drunkard’s raving.

Before long, though, everyone goes ber-

serk. Martial law is declared in Moscow

amid a flood of refugees. Like quarantined

Europeans applauding ambulances from

their balconies, cowering citizens take to

the pavements to salute the cavalrymen on

their way to interspecies battle, and the

marching gas squadrons “with breathing

tubes over their shoulders and with cylin-

ders on straps behind their backs”. Artillery

units bombard forests; aeroplanes spray

poison. Civilian casualties mount. And,

following a perennial instinct, vigilantes

hunt for someone to blame.

In the end, the weather intervenes, as

some hope it might today. An unseason-

able summer frost kills the serpents and

freezes the eggs, and a year after the trouble

arose, it is all over. Moscow, Bulgakov

writes encouragingly, “again began to

dance, to burn and to spin with lights”. 7

Disaster fiction

The yolk of fate

The Fatal Eggs.By Mikhail Bulgakov.

Translated by Hugh Aplin.Hesperus Press;

112 pages; £6.99