P. D. James (1920–2014)

This is one of those rare cases where the movie is actually better than the book. I watched The Children of Men on television a couple of months ago and since then I’ve been wanting to get hold of the book. It begins in much the same apocalyptic fashion as I was expecting it to. A fifty year old man begins penning down in his diary, not so much a chronicle of his life, but the inadequacies he has faced through the years. Theodore Faron is a college professor but he is also the cousin of the Warden of England, Xan, a benign tyrant of sorts.

This apocalyptic world, set in the future is aging and dying. No children have been born in the past twenty-five years. Women deprived of their chance at cuddling little babies have taken to taking dolls out for a stroll in a pram. There may not be any hope for this infertile race, but the Warden keeps up regular testing of males and females in case one of them turns up a viable seed.

Theodore, a man who was once an advisor to Xan, is approached by a group of dissenters, rebels who wish to seize power and make conditions in England better than they presently are. On their behalf Theo makes an appeal to Xan which falls on deaf years. Resigned to live out his years in a sense of gloom and grey, he spends a couple of months out of the country.

He returns back home and is approached by the group of rebels once again. This time the appeal for help that they make is no small matter. It is the most significant, most shattering discovery that has not been heard of for a quarter of a century and a discovery that would have Xan himself down on his knees.

What was perhaps the most disappointing part of the book is that the real story took a long time in coming. I shouldn’t have had to read half the book to feel the thrill and the action that finally takes over. This is why I preferred the movie. The absurd discovery is bared to the audience a lot sooner. Also, a lot of things seemed hanging. Like too many coincidences. Like lack of explanations.

Towards the end, neither of the feelings that the author tried so hard to create, stayed. There was no sense of relief from the unending misery nor a feeling of hope or revival of new beginnings, which I remember were two things I felt at the end of the movie. Sadly, the book failed to convey that intensity of emotion.

Had great potential to be a better book. Definitely mellow when compared to the movie.… (more)