Scythe (Neal Shusterman)

Scythe

The Arc of a Scythe series, Book 1
Neal Shusterman
Simon and Schuster
Fiction, YA Sci-Fi
****+ (Good/Great)

DESCRIPTION:

The Age of Mortality ended with the rise of Thunderhead, the world-encompassing AI that supplanted fractious national governments, offers access to all human knowledge, and ushered in an era without disease, poverty, aging, or even death. Thanks to nanobots and advanced medical technology, almost everyone can be revived (though some who "splat" from a significant height may take longer)... but that created a new problem. How can the population be kept in check when lifespans are essentially limitless - and should an AI, even a benevolent overlord like Thunderhead, be in charge of such an essentially human experience? Thus was created the Scythedom, a society of humans a step apart from the rest of the population, even separate from the all-seeing, all-knowing Thunderhead. It is only they who can "glean" others, killing them permanently. As generations pass and memories of the mortal age fade, Scythes alone are the face of true death in this deathless world. How terrible it would be should that power lose its guardrails of purpose, duty, and morality...
The first time Citra met Scythe Faraday, he stopped into her family's apartment for dinner before he gleaned their next-door neighbor; by law, a Scythe can go where they wish and demand food, drink, or whatever they desire from anyone. Rowan met him when the scythe came to his school to glean a classmate and only Rowan stayed with the boy to the end. Without realizing it, both impressed Faraday to the point where he took them on as his apprentices, training them in killcraft and Scythedom code and custom. Neither loves killing or permanent death, and they both initially want nothing at all to do with scythes, but the more they see and learn, the more they realize just what purpose the Scythedom serves and how they might actually be good fits for the robes. But a rot has formed at the heart of the society, and Citra and Rowan are soon pulled into a tangle of politics and rivalries and the struggle over who will determine the future of the Scythedom - if the old codes and restrains crafted in the last days of mortality will stand, or if a newer, darker strain of gleaning will rise to threaten the whole populace.

REVIEW:

I've heard about this one for quite some time, almost all of the talk positive. Some consider it a modern classic. Reading it, I can see why. With echoes of dystopian classics like Aldous Huxley's Brave New World (yet presented in a way more relatable to modern readers; Huxley's work loses a little relevance if one isn't familiar with the then-current movement/threat of Fordism, for instance), Scythe creates an outwardly glorious future where humanity has finally conquered its oldest enemy, Death itself, but in doing so has - seemingly unwittingly - traded away most everything that made life worth living. Even old age is a minor inconvenience; anyone can "turn a corner" to reset themselves to their twenties, complete with refreshed minds and hormones, even raising new families and finding new lovers. So what is left to fuel passion, to drive people to greatness? With Thunderhead accumulating all knowledge, granting access to everyone at any time, why push oneself or push boundaries at all? Nanobots even regulate extreme emotions and blunt pain, so love itself isn't what it used to be anymore, either. (And if you're bored with people, well, there are robot facsimiles almost indistinguishable from humans to serve as partners.) Most of the great works of human history now languish in a population that cannot relate to all-consuming emotion or existential angst or isolation or other motivators to great thought or science or art. As one scythe openly wonders, are people even truly human anymore? Only the scythes offer anything like true danger, which makes people both uncomfortable with them and fascinated by them; a celebrity cult has sprung up around particularly noteworthy scythes. The scythes themselves, so intimately entwined with true mortal death, may be the last vestige of what it means to be truly, mortally human, but even their experiences are proscribed in certain ways; they have the same emotion-regulating and pain-suppressing nanobots as everyone else, they "turn the corner" at will like anyone else, and - until and unless they self-glean, as the only scythe who can end a scythe is themselves - they can potentially live forever like anyone else.
Citra and Rowan come from different places (though not vastly different worlds as one might find in the Age of Mortality; though Thunderhead allows some minor income inequality and there's still a little cultural variance, for the most part there aren't the vast divides of experience and opportunity that there once were). Citra is a much-loved member of her family, while Rowan's friend nicknamed him "lettuce" for how he's an unappreciated and overlooked filling in the "sandwich" of his large, sprawling, many-generational clan. Citra strives, while Rowan coasts. But both, when faced with Scythe Faraday, in their own way stood up and stood apart from the others around them as he did his deadly work - and both, in their own way, have qualities that would make them truly good at the job... especially because neither rushes to embrace the robes or the power that comes with even being a scythe's apprentice. Inevitably, there's even a spark of attraction between the two, despite the somber circumstances - and then the political games and growing schisms roiling within the Scythedom of MidMerica throw a spike in the works, determining that only one of them can ever take the ring and robe of a scythe, and the winner must glean the loser. The plot, which already wasn't slow, really takes off in some satisfying directions from here, as Citra and Rowan find themselves pursuing different paths and seeing different sides of death and themselves, both tested and tempted in ways they did not anticipate (and in which they sometimes fail). Around them is a web of fellow scythes and a few civilians, precious few of whom can be trusted as allies when needed. And always, front and center, is death, and what the world has become when final and ultimate death is in the hands of an elite few rather than the birthright of every human. If you think that this being a Young Adult title means that Shusterman fades to black or skirts around the gory, messy, dark subjects of "killcraft" and death, think again. It's there, always, and characters do not (or are not allowed to) shy away or blink. Even the characters may end up "deadish" more than once ("deadish" being what most people experience when they are not ultimately gleaned; an ending, followed by waking up, woozy and sore, in a revival facility).
This is not a book that drags its heels much, or overexplains too often. There are some aspects of the future that I felt could've used a touch more fleshing out and focus, as for the most part Shusterman keeps the lens on the scythes. Everything builds to a decently cathartic climax that sets up the next book, but feels satisfying enough that I don't need to rush right out and buy the sequel. The whole is an interesting, absorbing, and thought-provoking tale, one where there aren't always easy answers or clear divisions between right and wrong, good and evil.

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