Book review: The Prey by Tom Isbell
At a recent YA book club meeting, we talked about some of the things that we dislike as readers, things that we’re so over. The list was of the long, varied, and ranty variety. It seems like every meeting we discuss our dysptopia-fatigue, so that made the list. If we’re going to read a dystopia, somehow show us something different. In Tom Isbell’s The Prey, twin girls are experimented on by the government and boys (all boys, not just twins) who are categorized as “less thans” are kept in captivity and then hunted for sport. This premise, while still pretty familiar-feeling for a dystopia, at least seemed interesting enough to check it out.
Set 20 years after the Omega (the nuclear incident that obliterated much of the planet), Book lives in Camp Liberty (and narrates half of the story, in first person), raised to think that being called an “LT” means he and the other boys will go on to be lieutenants. In reality, they are “less thans” because of things like handicaps, skin color, weight, sexuality, religion, and their parents’ politics. After new boy Cat opens Book’s eyes to what their camp really is used for, Book, Cat, and 6 other boys set out to escape the Republic of the True America, Western Federation Territory. They aren’t entirely sure where they will escape to or what they will encounter, but the risk seems worth it. They team up with a group of 20 girls (lead by Hope, who narrates half of the story, in third person) who have escaped from the girls’ camp, Camp Freedom. Together they will set off on a journey across treacherous terrain, through punishing conditions, always barely one step ahead of hunters and the government. Their goal: whatever is waiting for them in The Heartland.
The overlarge cast of characters is necessary for the group to stand a chance against the foes they encounter, but there were too many characters–many of them nameless and only a few well-developed. I kept getting pulled out of the story thinking of the logistical nightmare of coordinating that large of a group trying to flee without a lot of options for hiding. Then there’s the fact that the girls have suffered atrocious experiments (many are weak and frail), and many of the boys have physical handicaps. Yet they move relatively quickly in spite of little food, water, or rest. Parts of their escape were riveting–disgusting and gruesome and suspenseful in all of the best ways. Other parts plodded along.
The story really begins to pick up momentum when they encounter Frank, an old guy living in a remote area. If it wasn’t in your mind before, their encounter with him begs the question: just what does this world look like? How is it that he gets to live out there alone? Do others? Does everyone live in some kind of camp? Where are the kids who are not twin girls or “less than” boys? Where are the adults? The people older than 17? This is the problem with first books in trilogies often–not enough world building is offered because you know (or hope) it will be revealed in the rest of the series. I wanted more–I wanted to full understand this post-Omega world. And just when I think we might start to get some answers, just when the group reaches a new territory, the story comes screeching to a halt–not just a halt, but a completely puzzling “wait a minute, you’re going to do WHAT?” kind of halt.
The concept is great, but I wanted to take out a pen and start editing. Cut out some characters, get rid of the totally unnecessary love triangle idea/instalove idea (two more hits on our “things we don’t love” list), and give me more world building. I wanted more characters to die (that sounds awful, but seriously, their escape is very physically demanding. They encounter (or could encounter) many different ways to die. Give me more risk–kill off a few of those nameless characters), I wanted them to somehow learn more about the rest of the world, to talk about the experiments done to the girls, what life in the camps was like, what they remember from life before the camps. There is so much potential here, and I hope the next books in the series live up to it. Readers who still gravitate to dystopias will likely pick this up (the cover and flap copy are attention-grabbing), but may find themselves skimming the slow parts (and all of the obligatory romance parts). No matter how you get to the end–close attention or skimming–you’re still going to be left thinking, REALLY?!
REVIEW COPY COURTESY OF EDELWEISS
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date: 1/20/2015
Filed under: Book Reviews
About Amanda MacGregor
Amanda MacGregor works in an elementary library, loves dogs, and can be found on Twitter @CiteSomething.
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