In 2031, years after the United States has collapsed into a number of autonomous regions controlled by local militias, Ibari “Ari” Waker has just been released from prison as the city of Los Angeles is finally lifting a curfew meant to curb riots. In desperate need of a good time, Ari drags her reluctant new roommate Gloria to a party thrown by Gloria’s friend Kareem. At that party, curious things keep happening, but none more curious than when a woman named Nico who looks just like Gloria shows up, having no idea where she is. When it later turns out that Kareem has disappeared without a trace, Ari decides to get out of L.A.
As Ari navigates a life of crime in the former United States, and later in a Paris so threatened by climate change the city is building a dome to keep temperatures down, she remains intrigued by the presence of Nico and the absence of Kareem. Where did the former come from, and where did the latter go? Roughly halfway through the novel, Emily St. John Mandel lets the reader in on the secret. (Spoiler-avoidant people, proceed with caution.)
In an alternate 2031, Ibari Waker joins the Service, a shadowy police force that maintains order in the United State by surveilling the populace. Preternaturally gifted with a sort of second sight, Ibari is fantastically good at being a spy, though her loyalty is finally put to the test when it turns out her best friend Nico, a physicist, is both a fellow spy and a dissident intent on undermining the government.
Parallel universes, fascist regimes, and spies are the kind of things that make fans of genre fiction salivate, and Emily St. John Mandel even throws in a little art heist, as a treat, but on the whole she seems not particularly interested in entertaining the reader. Mandel seems to be aiming to impress instead. While her ability to weave two universes and two distinct sets of characters together is technically impressive, a creeping doubt began to grow in my mind as I read Exit Party: What’s the point?
Mandel doesn’t do a great job creating these characters. While Ari and Ibari have overlap and distinct differences in their personas, Mandel never digs into either. In the primary version of the United States, Art serves an 18-year prison sentence for contracting a murder for hire, a drastic action that seems entirely out of step with everything we see from her. Similarly, Ibari’s interest in serving the State is perplexing to say the least. Nico/Gloria, Kareem, and the minor characters all exist to move the plot along rather than to express any notions Mandel might have about human nature. It’s all just surface level stuff, which is insane coming from an author as accomplished as Mandel.
