The Electric State

The Electric State tells the story of a runaway teenager, Michelle, and her drone robot buddy, Skip, driving across an eerie, abandoned alternate USA in 1997, where ruins of the previously thriving consumer culture can still be seen alongside massive derelict war vehicles left over from a cybernetic conflict. It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland where the zombies aren't a result of dark magic or contagion, but some kind of “neuronic” technology that linked peoples' minds and stole their souls.

The art book is filled with beautifully haunting paintings of scenes encountered by the pair on their journey towards the west coast. It's amazing how Stålenhag can make such mundane images of American highways, cars, ordinary buildings look so sad and creepy – even when monuments of high technology are injected in between. The masterful part is how the visuals and the text come together. Accompanied by the visuals, the narrative is a well-written, tragic character story. Everything that Michelle has already gone through, as told in flashbacks, is sad. But it also feels like her life was the norm and that the shiny plastic veneer of this society was easily scratched away. Despite the setup for a road trip adventure, the plot involves almost no action apart from driving from stop to stop. Stålenhag's writing is excellent at evoking a mood of decay and abandonment, and he gives Michelle's voice a feeling of weariness, even though she also feels determined against the backdrop of the rest of the world that has given up, dissipated and disappeared.

A challenge in reading this book is that it doesn't really hold your hand. The writing is subtle about when the voice or timeframe has changed (though there are typographical cues – which makes me feel bad for the audiobook readers, and they're also missing out on the visuals, which are the best part). Michelle's narration often switches between past and present without warning. Plus, the backstory of this alternate world requires some puzzling together of various snapshots (along with visual clues from the illustrations). The book is never a sunny funny read, but it also stops short of being depressing. It stirs up all kinds of feelings, especially if the reader manages to engage with Michelle and Skip's story (including the finale told only in images – which I confess I loved, but am not sure I understood completely). This is that kind of book. (4 out of 5)