Annihilation

Annihilation, Jeff Vandermeer

We are given very little to hold on to in Annihilation, the first book in Jeff Van Der Meer’s Southern Reach trilogy. When we begin, we know that the expedition is made up of a biologist, an anthropologist, a surveyor and a psychologist. We know at one point a linguist would be joining. We know they are exploring Area X. We know that Area X is managed by the Southern Reach organization. We know there is a lighthouse in Area X, one that was on their map, and we know there is a tunnel tower that is on no one’s map. And we know others have explored the area before.

And this is it. We do not know anyone’s names, by design, the names of the expedition members having been stripped away during their training. We have no idea the size of Area X—Southern Reach has given an estimate, but no expedition member ever remembers crossing the border, going in or coming out. We have no idea what Area X is, or the shadowy Southern Reach (quasi governmental? It seems?) We don’t even really know where it is—the implication is that this is the United States, but there is nothing in the text to confirm or deny that. Even the animals the biologist sees are ill defined. Some are called out by name—dolphins and wild boars, some frogs and birds—but even most of the animals are maddeningly vague, with the “large water reptiles” appearing and most animals never being described beyond the most generic.

The story centers around the biologist. She has joined the expedition after her husband joined the previous one and never came back, or at least not really. Through a series of flashbacks we learn that his body reappeared, with no knowledge of how he left Area X or made it all the way back to their house, but seemed irredeemably changed. Within months he and all the other members of his expedition had died of cancer. We never receive the stories of others on the team. When the book opens, they are already in Area X. The psychologist had hypnotized them while they crossed the border; supposedly the border crossing is too intense for expeditions to handle otherwise.

And this is what we have to hold onto, and it is very sparse. The expedition is meant to explore Area X, study it, record all their observations and write them down in journals. There is a basecamp, and on all maps their attention has been drawn to a lighthouse. They also see, however, a small structure rising from the ground, which everyone refers to as the tunnel and the biologist can only mentally process as the tower while recognizing that it goes underground. The tunnel tower is either made of stone or a living, breathing structure. It has writing that seems vaguely religious on the walls, writing made of fruiting fungus with small, unrecognizable creatures. It has been there throughout all the expeditions or has only appeared in the last few months. There is nothing explainable here. And our disorientation continues the biologist slowly realizes how much of what was told in their training was a lie, and how much they were never told. And realizes that Area X is changing her, throwing us even more into disarray. How much that she is seeing and hearing is real?

It is a bizarre, disorienting story, from the very beginning. As a reader, we cast about for something to hang onto, some way to orient ourselves, but as I had the same realization as the biologist does of the Southern Reach, a deep realization of just how little Van Der Meer had given me to work with. But I also felt similarly fascinated by Area X. With so little to work with, he is still able to exploit a feeling of abandonment, of nature, and of vague unease that permeates the short book. I was pulled through quickly, wanting more of this strange, bizarre universe he’d built. There were no answers given at the end (I suppose they may be in the later books, but I deeply hope they are not), and so those who want closure will not be satisfied. But in a way the lack of explanation was an answer in itself. I look forward to the rest of the series, and the questions yet to come.