There is at least one moment in everyone’s life that they would like a second chance at, whether this is a horrifically life-altering event or something as small as remembering to take out your toast so you actually got a breakfast that didn’t taste like charcoal before an important interview.
While Beth Lewis’ Children of the Sun cannot offer you a second chance, it offers the next most compelling thing: seeing what other people would do with it.
In 1982, Sol leads the cult of the Golden Door. He’s a cult leader whose character is genuinely charismatic thanks to Lewis’ characterisation skills. As such he is able to convince his followers that if they follow his preparations for a grand ritual, they can open the Golden Door and take their second chance in a parallel world. However, this cult attracts more than the attention of believers.
The novel’s key strength is its balance of multiple perspectives. James, a haunted journalist desperate for a big scoop, is desperate for more than an article. Root, one of the children in the commune, contributes a distinctly childlike voice. The exaggerations and broken grammar, alongside Root’s self-importance and absolute faith in Sol, make for sharp changes in point-of-view. While initially jarring, Root’s deep-seated belief pairs well with the other perspectives to make the reader wonder how fantastical this science fiction novel will be. As James’ own internal wounds become apparent, his struggle with perceptions of reality drive the novel’s emotional core and the reader’s curiosity. Eve, an ex-cult member on a road trip of revenge, casts a sense of impending doom and urgency across the novel as a whole, contributing to the whirlwind pace. She has enough jaded vitriol to rival any Byronic hero. Seeing these traits in a woman’s character is refreshing to read and Eve’s determination carries the plot forward as surely as it carries her across the United States.
However, part of the novel’s allure is the question of reality – how real are Sol’s promises? The ghosts haunting James? Root and Eve’s convictions? The various points of view create a shifting sense of reality throughout the book. While potentially disorienting, I found that it contributed to the environment of the cult, where Sol becomes the lodestone that reality revolves around. As the story develops, any outcome seems likely.
Lewis queers the narrative in two senses: she follows the basic academic sense, in which she undermines the idea that there is a singular, structured story about the cult with her various perspectives. Additionally, her queer characters queer (in the first sense of the word) the novel’s themes. Lewis uses James’ sexuality to interrogate how people navigate grief, a process eased by societal connections, when society itself [rejects his relationship / has taught him that the love he felt for another man was wrong]. Gender also comes into play with Root and the other children in the commune, as well as Eve’s story.
I would like to flag some of the dubious depictions of androgyny, so that prospective readers can be aware and approach the novel according to their own sensitivities. The androgyny of the children is something that often makes James’ character uneasy and is something that the cult members use to dehumanise the children. It is unclear if androgyny is intended to provoke unease in the reader as well. While it is possible to read this as a realistic depiction of the views of a presumably cisgender man, it did take me out of the story. While the acceptance of androgyny has not been historically positive, more sensitivity could have
been applied in these instances. (Spoilers for the rest of the paragraph!) However, it is noteworthy that James refers to Root as a boy only for Lewis to reveal that there is an added temporal difference in the points-of-view, and Eve was an adult Root all along. This implied transgender narrative can be viewed as Root/Eve’s assertion of her own humanity against the views of her social circles.
Ultimately, a series of satisfying twists ties things together. While Sol’s plot is the core motivator for the characters, the novel is no less character-driven for it. Lewis continues to bend the reader’s own presumptions and perceptions of reality while bringing each character to their own conclusion.
The questions that Lewis generates as the novel moves between the different character perspectives creates a compelling read about universal themes of grief, vulnerability, and hope.
Watching the characters strive for their second chances, Lewis could perhaps leave a reader with the impression that to be human is to be full of regrets, ghosts, and mistakes – what matters most is what we do with our lives. However, you very well could read this book differently based on your perspective and I would recommend giving it a read to find out.
WORDS: Maxine Boudway
