Review: The Marbury Lens by Andrew Smith

genre: horror, fantasy, zombie (sort of)
age: YA
rating: 5/8 tentacles

After traveling to London, Jack receives a pair of purple eyeglasses from a stranger that, when gazed through, transport the wearer to a parallel world called Marbury. Marbury seems to be in a post-apocalyptic state, crawling with zombie-like people reduced by disease to an animalistic existence. When transported to Marbury, Jack finds himself in the company of two young boys who already know him and are depending on him to lead them somewhere safe from the disease-ridden creatures.

Smith’s writing is gritty, vividly descriptive, and at times poetic. Scenes in Marbury come across with particular clarity, although I would have preferred the world to be more fully developed as a whole. The plot progresses quickly (frequently interrupted by vomit) and I didn’t like Jack much, but was interested enough in what happened to him to keep reading. Ben and especially Griffin were my favorites.

It intrigued me to notice that Jack’s responses to crises differed depending on whether he was in the real world or in Marbury. Real world Jack seems weak and spineless. He avoids any emotional connections beyond his best friend Connor and tends to brood. Marbury Jack is a man of action. He calmly assesses situations, makes decisions, and does whatever it takes to protect the two boys in his care. Maybe Real World Jack needed this responsibility to push him to reach his potential.

Marbury Lens gives me the impression of being composed of two distinct, albeit related, stories that happen to be stuck together. I feel like I need to review them separately. Maybe even three stories, if you count Seth’s: a ghost story within a story. I enjoy Seth’s tragic tale, but not the random way Jack would announce, “Now… I will tell a story!” As if two teenage girls he just met and his best friend wanted to hear about the life of a boy who lived a hundred years ago. Sure, it’s an interesting story and I wanted to hear it, but the way Jack abruptly inserts it into conversation feels like a contrived way to share Seth’s life with readers.

This storytelling business is only one of the issues I have with dialogue on Real World Jack’s side of things. A lot of it seems out of character, especially after Nickie enters the picture. Jack seems like a closed off person. He avoids a relationship with the grandparents who raised him. He refuses to cry. He is plagued by fear and guilt. But when a pretty British girl he’s known for a day or two displays an interest in him, he starts to open up. He tells her he likes her. He tells he’s scared and that there’s something wrong with him that he can’t talk about. Repeatedly. After a few more days they are saying “I love you.” It all seems fast and weird and unlikely. Would a distrusting, closed off person suddenly start sharing his feelings like this? Wouldn’t it take more time? More effort? Wouldn’t she have to earn his trust and vice versa? I don’t buy it.

The glasses themselves are portrayed as a kind of drug. Jack’s returns from Marbury always leave him pale, sweating, sick, and desperate to go back. In some ways, transitions between Marbury and the real world remind me of an extreme metaphor for getting lost in a good book: thinking constantly about the characters you’ve left behind, wondering what they will do next, missing the intensity of the action that contrasts so starkly with the triviality of everyday life. In some ways, The Marbury Lens is such a book.

I recommend The Marbury Lens to readers who enjoyed Lev Grossman’s The Magicians. Both address alternate fantasy worlds with a degree of grittiness. Fans of zombie books will also like The Marbury Lens.