The first thing any reader will probably notice is that The Passage is an enormous book. If you endeavor to read it and you are one of those people who totes the book you’re working your way through with you every where you go, you can be prepared to tone up those arm and back muscles. However, if you most often shy away from very thick books, don’t let this one intimidate you. It’s well worth the effort to lug it anywhere.
The Passage is a fusion of a post-apocalyptic stories, thriller, and horror, which isn’t necessarily all that odd of a combination. A government experiment goes horribly wrong (because, honestly, that’s how these things always turn out, isn’t it?) and the end result is a plague of vampires–in this particular work they’re called “virals” or “smokes.” They glow in the dark, and are often compared to glow sticks at the beginning of the novel. Because of the nature of the experiment, the vampires are particularly gruesome: they’re not only hideously ugly, they’re also practically mindless, operating solely by instinct.
There are pockets of humans who survive the initial outbreak and create a heirarchy and society that enables them to not only cope with this new reality but also survive. Naturally, there are strict rules to be followed. Traditions and taboos have evolved in order to protect one particular colony, which has been isolated for almost a hundred years. They have not had contact with the outside world, and they have eked out an existence that allows them to have families and to maintain their own brand of peace. One day, a human girl comes to the colony on foot, and everything that the people who live there know gets completely overturned.
Justin Cronin’s book might seem intimidating at first glance by its page count, but it doesn’t ever get boring. There are no sections that drag or seem unnecessary, which is unusual in a book with over seven hundred pages. The characters are all survivors in a sense, and it makes them incredibly compelling. They’re relatable, as well. These are people who, despite their fears, choose to be brave. They are flawed. Some of them whine, some of them give up, and some of them are nothing less than completely crazy, but they seem human, which is exactly the author’s point.
The story itself is well plotted. At first, things seem a bit discordant, so those opening chapters might require a little patience, but less than a sixth of the way through the book the different storylines weave together, and things start to make sense. There are a few places where the author skips around chronologically, but all of the instances are handled well so they never seem to get confusing. Any flashbacks are an important part of the story, which makes them an immense help in understanding the entire book.
Cronin never allows himself to be bogged down in slews of technical jargon or made-up words. He actually uses fairly plain English, but don’t mistake that for poor writing or dumbing down the book; the normal use of language is part of what makes this book so compelling. It’s straightforward, and that makes it so much easier to get lost in the dark atmosphere of the book. It’s easy for a reader to visualize what is happening while they read, and the suspension of disbelief becomes remarkably light for the reader to carry.
This book could be heavy on gore, but it isn’t. There are plenty of parts that are disturbing, and readers who are trying to find a book that will cheer them up should probably seek something else. There are a few parts that are kind of gross, as well, but they’re nothing like what you might expect from a typical horror novel. The Passage depends more on psychological horror, atmosphere, and suspense, and it does a very good job of maintaining a foreboding sense that something big is about to happen any second.
I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who’s looking for something that will keep them engrossed, doesn’t mind a few scares here and there, and can handle some decidedly un-sexy vampires.
