There has been a boom in post-apocalyptic fiction and Beth Lewis’ debut novel The Wolf Road is no exception. However, unlike many of her predecessors’ contributions to end-of-the-world-literature, Lewis shies away from the reasons and whys precipitating earth’s demise and instead the protagonist dismissively calls the event “The Damn Stupid.” Somebody did something, and now we’re here. That’s it. But where is here?
An indistinct war has erased all technology before the 1880s (a saw mill is about as advanced as it gets) and most of civilization has reverted to colonial America. After a super storm destroys her home, seven-year-old Elka is raised by a hermit hunter she calls Trapper to his face and Daddy when he can’t hear her. They live off the grid and she learns all the tricks of hunting and creating a sustainable lifestyle. Now seventeen, Elka learns that things aren’t as they’ve seemed; the man she’s called Daddy hasn’t ever been who he says. A journey to escape the life she knows to find one she doesn’t takes her to unexpected places and revelations.
I came into this novel expecting to find similarities to Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, but became pleasantly surprised that Lewis does not take that path—or at least goes at it in a roundabout way. McCarthy underscores the relationship between father and son (or parent and child), but Lewis goes a step further to acknowledge that when assumed parental love is absent or dissolved, family can sometimes come in a different form.
Before I praise the book, I do want to make a note of a pervasive theme in literature that has lately caused me much consternation. I’ll ruffle a few coattails with this, but I’m going to say it. The theme is “down deep, I’m a good person.” The invisible internet reader now says Huh? What? Well yeah, of course I am! I disagree. Vehemently. If you’ll humor me, I have an anecdote to illustrate my point. Over the course of approximately five years I embarked on a quasi-social experiment where I asked strangers “Do you think you’re a good person?” I estimate I asked 2000 people across the width of the social spectrum. Not a single person—not one—answered in the pejorative. The consensus is this: Each one of us will justify our way into being a “good person” no matter what the reality of our actions proves. Just to emphasize this point, I spoke with a neo-Nazi covered in swastika tattoos who believed he was a good person because of his racist proclivities. When we’re the judge, we always rule in our favor. I could go on, but the summation is that we need to stop deluding ourselves about so-called inherent goodness and that includes fictional personalities.
Now for some accolades:
The writing is strong throughout—even the jangly county bumpkin syntax stays consistent and readable, but what I appreciate most about The Wolf Road is its plotting. This is not a spoiler alert: The first chapter is the book’s climax. The rest of the book until we arrive at the climax again is a breathless trek to discover how Elka arrives. It takes a brave author to show her cards from the first and pray she’s got enough gusto in the rest of the narrative to keep us reading. Lewis succeeds with aplomb. From a pure craft perspective, it’s worth a study. So take a walk on the Wolf Road and survey the sights. 3.5/5 stars.