
© April 16, 2024, Voyager
File Size: 2.6 MB
274 pages
ISBN-13: 978-0062326164
Noria is a 17-year-old in the Scandinavian Union, which is occupied by the Chinese state of New Qian. Global warming changed everything. Fresh water is so scarce that wars are fought over who will control or even access it. Against all traditional practices, Noria’s father has trained her to be a tea master and entrusted her with an enormous secret—the location of a hidden spring, and how to tend it. But secrets have a way of getting out, and when the soldiers begin watching the town, watching Noria, she must choose between her own safety and kinship with her people.
Memory of Water is certainly a cautionary tale. Yes, it’s speculative fiction, but it could almost be written about today. Water isn’t quite so scarce in our own world as it is in Noria’s, but overall resources—of water and other necessities for life—are leaning strongly in that direction. The backstory of how water came to be so scarce is revealed in snatches throughout, but it rings true even in our own world. Climbing temperatures, winters warming even in the northern regions until, in Noria’s time, snow is a thing of myth and fable. Electricity is a thing of the past, along with remnants of debris in the plastic grave, where other past-things are buried, and where villagers are known to scavenge for items that may still be useful in some new way.
But it isn’t only water that’s scarce. Gardens wilt and fail; freedoms are curtailed; and privacy is a dream. Alongside the water theme, Memory is also a tale of dominance. The military controls everything, not just water but the people’s freedoms. Everything is regulated, even books, which are now contained on pod-books where facts can be easily modified across the entire system to match the needs of the government. The power state reflected in these pages mirrored many contemporary situations, so much so that it raised the hair on the back of my neck more than once. Itäranta shows that in a situation where government slides in gradually, mindfully placing its controls piece by piece, it’s easy to ignore the tightening noose. As long as it’s happening to someone else, somewhere else, the best response is to look away, lest you draw the government’s attention to yourself and your family. But of course, that only allows the noose to tighten more. No one wins except the government.
With beautiful, flowing prose, Memory of Water is a lyrical, yet harrowing story of one possible future for humanity. Definitely recommended.