Thursday 29 April 2021

Review: The End of Men by Christina Sweeney-Baird

In the near future - 2025 - a lethal virus, killing only men, is first identified in a Glasgow hospital, though no-one initially wants to listen to A&E consultant Amanda Maclean. Before long, though, it becomes impossible to ignore that something very bad is happening.

As the crisis deepens, governments panic and flounder. There are riots, shootings, a civil war in China. And husbands, sons, fathers and brothers are dying all over the world in unimaginable numbers.

It's really hard to believe that this book was written before the start of the current pandemic, because although there are - thankfully - significant differences (the virus affects only men, though women can be carriers, and is far more lethal, killing almost all sufferers within a few days of infection), there is also a lot that feels eerily similar, for instance: "I go out to get food, briefly and carefully as late as possible in the quiet of night time, touching no one, standing near no one." Sound familiar? A foreword by the author comments on how the prophetic aspects of the story resulted in her being dubbed "Cassandra" by some.

We see the progression of the pandemic over a considerable period of time via various people's stories - some followed throughout, like Amanda, the doctor who first identified the virus, and who is determined to track it back to its source; Catherine, an anthropologist; scientists working on a vaccine - and some whose experiences we only glimpse briefly - a woman working as a maid in Singapore, another whose remote Scottish farm becomes home to evacuated teenage boys, a man trapped on a cruise liner off the Icelandic coast. There's a lot of tragedy, inevitably, and devastating social and economic changes and upheavals as men become a small minority of the population. Meanwhile, US journalist Maria Ferreira charts the progress of the pandemic through a series of articles.

There are some very acute observations; for instance, intimidating a male intruder into fleeing by using the threat of infection, one woman comments: "This must be what men used to feel like. My mere physical presence is enough to terrify someone into running. No wonder they used to get drunk on it."

Inevitably there are huge swathes of stories left untold - we see the UK and Scotland (by 2025 an independent republic), the US and Canada, along with snippets from China, Singapore and New Zealand, but the effects of the "Plague" on Africa, for instance, are unknown.

There were several times when I doubted the wisdom of my decision to read this book during a real life pandemic, especially early on. There's so much loss for almost all of the characters and it's heartbreaking at times (although strangely I only had tears in my eyes once, and that was at a moment of hope rather than despair).

A fascinating read and a very impressive debut novel, but only if you're feeling strong enough to take it...