The Other Valley, Scott Alexander Howard
The Other Valley is one of the many dystopian stories that combines speculative fiction and time travel, and yet it succeeds in avoiding clichés, presenting us with magical realism that’s wholly original. The world is made up from a series of valleys, a series of repeating realities. To the west, the valley is twenty years in the past, while to the east, life has moved twenty years ahead. Odile, our main character, is a teenager trying to work towards a position on the Conseil, the institution responsible for controlling passage into other valleys, when she’s accidentally hit by a tragic reveal.
The worldbuilding is entrancing, with the multiple captivating readers from the star. The author doesn’t make the dystopian reality complex, instead constructing a fictional system that’s simple and suitably vague; the reader doesn’t need to know the intricate rules and puzzling time travel theories – instead, the author chooses to focus on philosophical depth. The concept of the Conseil is another interesting aspect of the book, as it introduces an authority that dictates movement from one valley into another for purposes including mourning a loved one who has passed in your own time but still exists in another. These “mourning tour” decisions raise a moral dilemma, in which a small number of people are responsible for accepting or rejecting the legitimacy of someone’s grief. Grief becomes something that can be measured and bent in the hands of the conseil members, judged against impossible standards.
The book is divided into two parts that offer a dividing line between one plot and the other. In the first part, Odile is a teenager in school, and the author gives us a sense of whimsical fascination and childhood hopes. There’s a mystical sense in the air – a feeling Odile’s whole life is stretched out in front of her. She’s dedicated and hardworking, confident in her desire to be part of the conseil and all it stands for. The book is teeming with coming-of-age themes, exploring teenage awkwardness, high school friendships, temporary envies, passions, and intense crushes. Odile’s skin is one we grow into, and we soon become complicit in her future plans and the sweetness of her romance with Edme.
The second part, however, completely shifts the narrative. This sudden and utter switch left me perplexed, as I was thrown into a different world and mood. Gone is the softness of youth, replaced by the harsh and dull world of adulthood. We meet Odile years later, after the tragic event has taken place, stunned by the difference in the life she imagined in part one and the life she now leads. There’s a sense that the world is enveloped in grey violence and coldness; the rush of hope and expectation no longer permeates the air, as we move into a claustrophobic reflection of Odile’s life as a border guard, filled with boredom and disdain at her daily chores. We can’t help but feel sad at the contrast between the two parts, and the reality that life doesn’t always turn out as we wanted. There’s also a poignant realisation of the grim realities of an entity that is responsible for keeping the world functioning and safe.
The Other Valley explores grief beautifully, without shying away from the staggering effect it may have on a life, enough to render a life unrecognisable. Instead of the more traditional time travel message that encourages you to appreciate your life as it is, the author raises different questions: What’s worth destroying your life for? What could push you to abandon the societal rules and systems? What lengths would you take to save something or someone you love?
The author strikes the perfect balance between a coming-of-age tale, a suspenseful dystopian world, and fundamental moral plights. The Other Valley will completely suck you in, with quiet tension and emotions, and will assail you with ending full of sensation and turmoil.
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