The Light Pirate

The Light Pirate by Lily Brooks-Dalton

Fiction

2022 Grand Central Publishing

Finished on September 3, 2023

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding)

Publisher's Blurb:

Florida is slipping away. As devastating weather patterns and rising sea levels gradually wreak havoc on the state’s infrastructure, a powerful hurricane approaches a small town on the southeastern coast. Kirby Lowe, an electrical line worker; his pregnant wife, Frida; and their two sons, Flip and Lucas, prepare for the worst. When the boys go missing just before the hurricane hits, Kirby heads out into the high winds to search for them. Left alone, Frida goes into premature labor and gives birth to an unusual child, Wanda, whom she names after the catastrophic storm that ushers her into a society closer to collapse than ever before.

As Florida continues to unravel, Wanda grows. Moving from childhood to adulthood, adapting not only to the changing landscape, but also to the people who stayed behind in a place abandoned by civilization, Wanda loses family, gains community, and ultimately, seeks adventure, love, and purpose in a place remade by nature.

Told in four parts—power, water, light, and time—The Light Pirate mirrors the rhythms of the elements and the sometimes quick, sometimes slow dissolution of the world as we know it. It is a meditation on the changes we would rather not see, the future we would rather not greet, and a call back to the beauty and violence of an untamable wilderness. 

Imagine a time when it is literally too hot to go outside during daylight hours. If you do, your core body temperature will rise so quickly, you will suffer from heat exhaustion within minutes and die. Nocturnal life becomes the norm for survival.

Imagine a year in which there are so many hurricanes that the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) goes through the entire alphabet, only to start over again before the end of the "season."

Imagine the disappearance of Miami-Dade County, the Outer Banks, and other coastal cities, all preceded by a mass exodus of residents to safer locations where they endure perpetual wildfires in their new communities.

These calamities are not difficult to imagine. One just needs to read the news and know how close we are coming to creating the above into realities. The following  headline was published in the New York Times on Labor Day:

In a typical Atlantic Ocean hurricane season, August is the ramp-up to September’s peak. This season came to life almost overnight in mid-August, producing a record four named storms in less than 48 hours. [Emphasis mine]

I also read this in The New York Times earlier this month:

More than any past year, this summer felt like the moment that climate change came for the vacationer. It began with heat waves across Southern Europe, where popular attractions closed to avoid the intolerable midafternoon temperatures. The infernal heat cured the kindling for wildfires, which were soon raging in Italy, Turkey, Spain, Portugal, Cyprus, Greece and elsewhere, forcing holiday cancellations and, as in the case of Rhodes, large-scale evacuations. On the other side of the world, another fire, this one likely supercharged by hurricane winds, consumed Lahaina on Maui, killing at least 115 people.

Hail as big as tennis balls pounded towns in northern Italy. Torrential rain triggered flash floods across Central Europe. All of this wild weather has coincided with tourism’s great rebound, the year when tourist numbers are expected to recover to prepandemic levels.

and

There are few contingencies in motion for when the weather in today’s most popular destinations becomes a bane rather than a blessing. Many people are speculating that European summer travel patterns are bound to migrate north as prospective vacationers deem an increasing likelihood of sustained 110-degree Fahrenheit temperatures too much to bear. Uncanny sights like the ghostly hotel towers of Varosha, a once-glamorous resort in Cyprus that was abandoned after the Turkish invasion of 1974, may become commonplace across Europe’s southern coasts.

The gravity of the climate crisis should not be lost on readers of The Light Pirate, a novel so timely and smartly written, it should be required reading not only of high school students, but all citizens of this planet. Cli-fi is a new-to-me genre, but unlike its sister Sci-fi, it's far too realistic and terrifying, the imminent threat all too near and not to be ignored. As Kirby, one of the main characters, believes:

This world is worried, of course, about climbing temperatures and vengeful wildfires and rising tides. The headlines are absolutely terrible[...]. Incessant. Exhausting. But they're just that. Headlines. Things that happen to other people, elsewhere. The Middle East, Indonesia, Northern California, the Bahamas: those poor people. Southern Florida and the Keys, Louisiana, Puerto Rico: those poor people. The safe zones have shrunk, will go on shrinking, but the people still firmly attached to the idea that there will continue to be such lines--between safe and not safe, between us and those poor people--are determined to go on as they always have.

and

By the time Kirby reaches the parking lot, he realizes that he's known for weeks. Months, even. It was the same with the beaches. The same with the floods, the hurricanes, the sea level. Didn't he know all of this was coming? Didn't everyone? They've known for years. Decades. It didn't make any difference. None at all. Because now it's here and despite all that knowing, he's lost. Everyone is. They had all hung their hats on the question of proximity. Yes, it will be bad, they said to one another, but we have years. We have time. Somehow we'll solve this along the way. He doesn't even have the energy to be angry. 

I'm not a fan of magical realism, but I was willing to suspend disbelief and just go with it. The occurences are not a distraction and, truthfully, I enjoyed those parts of the story. Don't let that label dissuade you from reading this powerful book!

Thought-provoking is a hackneyed term, but I can't think of a better descriptor for The Light Pirate. It's a gripping read from the opening lines, easing up before the halfway point, but never losing momentum or growing sluggish. I haven't read a lot of climate fiction, but Ash Davidson's debut novel, Damnation Spring (an environmental story set in the California redwood forests) came to mind as I read Brooks-Dalton's provocative, cautionary tale. 

I loved this novel, which is so beautifully written with well-drawn characters I hated to say goodbye to. I couldn't put it down! The Light Pirate is one to own, to share with others, to discuss in book groups, and to inspire all of us to do more to save our planet. Highly recommend.