Book Review: Unwind, by Neal Shusterman

I felt so bad about reading the previously reviewed book, The Copper Elephant (TCE), that I decided to try again with a similar theme. Yes — Unwind, by Neal Shusterman, deals with "getting rid" of unwanted children, too. Thankfully, that's where the comparison stops and the contrasts begin. Whereas TCE was a considerable waste of reading time (and anguished reading, at that), Unwind was suspenseful and gratifying to read.

In this futuristic sci-fi novel, children are "safe" until they reach their teens — at which point their parents/guardians may choose to "unwind" them — resulting not in death, supposedly, but in an altered state of existence. The decision is irrevocable. If they manage to reach eighteen, then they are "safe" once again. (In TCE, children had to survive from about seven until they were twelve in order to be "safe.") The initial character, Connor, has proved to be an embarrassment to his parents, who then sign the order to unwind him; Risa has not performed well enough in a scholarship recital for her to continue her musical studies. They meet at a traffic accident caused by Connor trying to escape his fate. Lev was born specifically to be unwound — as a religious sacrifice. Their attempts to reach safe haven, and continue to survive, are the backbone of this novel — and heart-stopping and meaningful it is.

Many of the ethical questions that we face in modern, scientific cultures about life and its quality are asked — some are answered, but Shusterman leaves most in "the air" for us to continue to ponder as we reflect on this book long after we close its cover. The impact is much the same as Lois Lowry's The Giver, although in that novel the hero goes from ignorance to knowledge — in Unwind, the heroes are almost fully aware of their desperate situation from the start. We suspect we know what the author thinks the answers ought to be, but he doesn't "finalize" them — the mark of respect for readers. The readers also "live through" an unwinding — so be prepared; it is one of the most emotionally excruciating passages of writing I have encountered — so only adolescents and older readers, please. You won't soon forget it, the novel, or your thoughts about using human beings for "worthy causes" — articles about which are more and more frequently seen in the world.