The Dead of Night
by John Marsden  —  Copyright 1994

A killing Frost
by John Marsden  —  Copyright 1995

Review by D. D. Shade   —   September 21, 1998

I've been given carte blanche to define "lost" in anyway that works for this column. If you've not experienced much young adult SF, then the books I want to review this month are lost. Lost to you and countless others who never stray past the adult SF section.

With the end of the cold war, we don't think often about being invaded. But, I'm old enough to have been in fourth or fifth grade during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I didn't really understand what was going on but I know now how close we came to a nuclear war. I recall learning how to "duck and cover" under our desks to protect us from the nuclear blast (Ha!). Instead of fire drills we had air raid drills to the basement of the school which had been turned into an air raid shelter. Mostly we thought this was great, because it interrupted the otherwise dull school day.

I grew up in Arlington, VA - stones throw from Washington, DC - long before air conditioning. Summer nights were spent on the screened back porch with a bowl of ice cream listening to the adults discuss how we didn't stand a chance in a nuclear confrontation since Washington, DC was surely the first strike. My only comfort came in knowing I'd be a crispy critter and would feel very little being so close to the center of the blast.

As I walked to school those days and after, during the escalation of the cold war, I watched my neighbors dig huge holes in their back yards and build bomb shelters. I often wondered if it was really possible to survive in one of those things. I got a peek inside one once. It contained a mattress to sleep on, rows and rows of canned food, bleach bottles full of water, and a shot gut leaning up in one corner. Pretty well scared the crap right out of me and brought home quickly how real some people thought this threat really was. In the six-block walk to school from my childhood home there were about a dozen bomb shelters. My plan was to get really friendly with some of the people who had bomb shelters so they would let me in during an attack. Needless to say, my plan failed as most of these people weren't interested in "strange" elementary school children asking questions about their bomb shelter across the fence. Everyone tried to pretend they didn't have one.

Enough of my life story - you don't read this column to hear of the nightmares of a 10-year-old from Arlington, VA. And why am I going into such detail about nuclear war? Tomorrow, When the War Began, and its sequels, are not about a nuclear disaster They're not about rebuilding society after the apocalypse. John Marsden's books are about young people surviving the invasion of their country by an unknown, hostile enemy. In some ways, I found these books to be more frightening since the so-called "end" of the cold war does not necessarily cancel out the possibility of invasion. And although I think the invasion of the United States has a low probability, I found it frighteningly easy to identify with the plight of Marsden's characters. Technically speaking, John Clute categorizes books like these into "disaster or holocaust" books. Along with post-holocaust, according to Clute, they are the most popular forms of speculative fiction.

The story takes place in Australia. Eight high school students go on one last camping trip in the "bush" during Christmas vacation (which is like summer downunder). While they are away, hostile forces invade Australia and they emerge only to find empty houses and a hand scrawled fax warning them to go "bush" if they find no one home. One father's insightful effort to warn his daughter.

I gather from descriptions in the book and email from a colleague in Australia that "bush" is not like our national parks. The Australian bush is very dense, impassible, and makes for a great place to hide. Lots of thorns. It would take napalm to penetrate the Australian bush. Fortunately for the young adults, Australia's invaders want the country for themselves and therefore only destroy what they feel is unavoidable. Such instances include fire bombing a farmhouse the invaders thought our heroes were hiding in and destroying half of the town in a show of force.

Most importantly, these books are about how eight teenagers survive the invasion. How they begin to come together as a team and learn to depend on each other. How they are forced into amateur guerilla warfare tactics in order to survive and fight for their family's freedom. Each character is an experiment. We watch them look deep within and find the resolve and courage they never knew they had. We watch their successes and their failures. We see some grow and adapt to the horror as we watch others find ways of escaping. We watch some reach outward to the group at the same time some withdraw deep within themselves.

We are given some stereotypical personalities that make some surprising changes as the story unfolds. There's Ellie, the tomboy who makes the first kill only to discover she's not as hard as she thought. Homer, the class clown who turns into a serious tactician. Fi, the graceful ballerina who finds enough inner strength to inspire the others. Robyn, who seems best able to take what has happened in stride and adjust her way of thinking, Lee the gentle piano player who becomes filled with hatred and hardens in a way that is both sad and brutal. Then there's Corrie who gets shot in the back during an "engagement" and Kevin who drives her into the occupied town where the hospital is, not knowing if either of them will live to see tomorrow's light. And later comes Chris, the kid who doesn't fit in, writes beautiful poetry, and stays stoned most of his part of the story. Each teenager comes to terms with the invasion in their own way, yet they also learn to work together for a superordinate goal - their national freedom. They become fairly well organized and effective guerilla warriors.

Being the father of four teenage sons, I often wonder how they will survive when they leave home for college. Please excuse my parental bias, but you're not the one who has to constantly remind them to brush their teeth, change their underwear, do their homework, and stop killing their little sister. Perhaps our house is somewhat "Addams-like" but it was refreshing and hopeful to read a book about teenagers who find themselves in the middle of a holocaust, not only survive, but also take the initiative. Perhaps the hope given me for my own sons is based on a false premise - the young adults in Marsden's books did very little by way of keeping clean. It wasn't always possible or practical, but when they had a change to bathe, they relished it

Yet, Marsden's holocaustic books are not totally about teenagers discovering the joy of being clean or the horrors of war. There is the love that comes as the group begins to pair off and work together as couples. This is not the mature, forceful love of characters such as found in On the Beach by Nevil Shute or in Mockingbird by Walter Tevis but the tender buds of love - the fragile, insecure reaching out of first time lovers. As George Bernard Shaw said, "First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity." There is also the love and devotion the group develops for each other. Like Army Rangers, they vow to leave no one behind and often risk their lives and security to save one of the group. On one occasion they venture into the occupied town and sneak into the hospital to discover the fates of Corrie and Kevin.

Tomorrow, When the War Began was a 1996 American Library Association Best Book for Young Adults. I found these books to be exciting reading and quite fun. I must admit that I enjoy a young adult novel once in a while because they hold many of the elements of a good story without being as complex as Dune or Xenocide. Tomorrow, When the War Began is now available in paperback. I'm sure its sequels will soon follow. Enjoy!

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