Severance: A Novel Kindle Edition

I’ve been meaning to read this book for a while, and now with a raging global pandemic, I thought it might be the right time. Severance is not the kind of apocalyptic, dystopian, zombie book that I expected, but that was also a pleasant surprise. The book has as more to do with identity and discovering our true selves as well as questioning the role of materialism, corporations, technology on our inability to connect with others and develop an authentic identity.Severance alternates between the narrator’s present, as a refugee/survivor banding together with other survivors of the Shen Fever Epidemic, her past, moving to NYC, meeting her partner, and finding work, and her parents’ past, emigrating from China to the US. I was a little confused at first, but I really enjoyed the different narrative streams that focused on her past. Sometimes it seemed like these were different novels/stories, but in the latter half of the book, I could better understand how these stories were interconnected. Interestingly, they all deal with different forms of severance—whether it is a severance from a home, culture, language, parents, loved ones, work, material goods, the internet. All of Candace’s experiences were severed at one point or another. Even her parents experienced severing, despite her mother’s desire to return to China. It seemed like Candace’s father had more of an understanding that in order to develop his own identity, he needed to start fresh.One of the more interesting aspects of Severance is “the fevered”, those who are infected with the Shen Fever. They mostly just repeat familiar patterns or experiences, looking for comfort in the familiarity. Candace and the survivors “stalk” the homes of the fevered to survive. Occasionally, they encounter families who are repeating dinner rituals. Candace witnesses a worker repeatedly folding clothes in a store and other fevered repeatedly trying on dresses. This symptom suggests the monotonousness of our lives, and how we basically do the same things every day. Even while living virtually at home during this pandemic, I haven’t quite felt this level of repetition, but I have experienced this kind of feeling before.In addition to noting the repetitive nature of our lives, Ling Ma also highlights how our material culture leads us to this kind of zombie like existence. She frequently describes the brands that Candace encounters, whether it is a pen, a chaise, skin care products, or a car. I appreciated this critique in noting how American culture in particular often goes after designer brands or brand names, and how these products can often shape our lives. When Candace gets her phone back, I could relate to how hopeful she felt in reconnecting with her past. The fact that the other survivors gave her a broken phone further emphasizes the need for severance from the past. I also appreciated how Candace goes to Shenzhen to discover where the bibles that Spectra (her employer) are made. Through Candace’s work with the companies in Shenzhen, she highlights some of the practices that companies will go to to make a profit and give the appearance of something rich or affluent. She talks about paper quality, fake leather book covers, and fake jewels, all to give appearances to an eager American market. Similarly, she notes that the Chinese allow the publication of bibles for Americans, but there are certain conditions that the workers must adhere to since bibles and religion have restrictions in China. Both countries, global economic leaders, are complicit to harming their citizens, lying to their markets, and ignoring their own values and ideals.The other interesting points that Candace brings up in her interactions with Balthasar, a Chinese intermediary, have to do with names. Balthasar says that he took his name from Shakespeare. I’m guessing that it is from Romeo and Juliet. Candace notices an old picture of Claire Daines in the office and remembers how much she liked this version of Romeo and Juliet. It’s interesting that Candace, who was born in China, is only able to connect with the Chinese workers through work and American movies. She is able to speak to Balthasar, but makes up a story about her father being a brain surgeon because of her lack of Chinese proficiency. When Balthasar asks about Candace’s Chinese name, she does not even know what it means. Balthasar goes on to explain that it reminded him of a poem by Li Bai, which he later sends to her. This part of the novel stuck out to me. Maybe because of the allusions, but I think it also says something about the costs of this kind of severance. We lose something when we experience these kinds of severances. Candace lost her cultural identity, and was more familiar with American culture, and not that of China. It seemed like her parents, especially her mother, lost something with the move to America. While we have new opportunities to gain and grow, we also end up losing parts of ourselves as well.While Severance is not a typical dystopian novel, Ling Ma asks important questions about the current state of our society and highlights some of the ways in which our materialism and desire of brand name products further alienates us from others and ourselves.

This was a strange trip with a different take on a world slowly sinking into the apocalypse. It feels very real and likely and avoids many of the old tropes that go with this genre. It also avoids any real endings and offers no closures.

To be honest, I picked up this book because I kept hearing everyone rave about it.The book is as well made as any paperback book can be. It has held up well with both my and my teen's reading and is only slightly worse for wear. The font is clear and sized to be easy to read.I have to say, I liked the idea of someone writing a pandemic based book prior to the arrival of covid. But this didn't really scratch that itch . . . it was more about her normal life before the pandemic and presented in a rambling almost stream of consciousness that grated on my nerves.A good book, and worth a read, but I wouldn't bump any on your list down to read it.

A few months ago, I was looking for books on office life (I know, exciting!) and came across "Severance" on a list. I recently picked it up to read during "quarantime" not even knowing that the book is primarily about life during and after a worldwide pandemic. But a portion of "Severance" does involve Candace's--the protagonist's--life working in an NYC publishing/distribution firm. She ends up going to work every day, despite more and more people sickening with "Shen Fever," an incurable illness contracted by inhaling fungal spores that originated in China. Ling Ma's evocation of the illness is quite good. When people become "fevered," they continue going about their most common activities, such as folding sweaters at a retail store or driving a taxi cab, but they're totally on auto-pilot and are eventually killed or die of exposure, exhaustion. etc. They're like totally non-threatening zombies, yet still chilling, maybe more so for their lack of engagement with the non-fevered. Candace becomes the final employee to flee her office and indeed one of the last to flee New York City, and this really made me think about my own life. How long would I stay in my office if the pandemic got really bad? There seems to be a fine line between duty and habit, as Candace discovers. She tends to stay at the office for lack of a better plan, lured by the promise of a big payday at the end, but when the paycheck finally arrives, there's nowhere to spend it. Eventually Candace bands together with a small group of survivors making their way to Chicago, but, as I imagine might happen in a situation like this, one of the group members, Bob, emerges as a threatening, tyrannical leader from whom Candace must escape. What are the true motives of people who want to be in charge? We hope these motives are altruistic, but too often they aren't. What I most loved about "Severance" was how multi-faceted it was. The book wasn't just about office life, and it wasn't 100% post-apocalyptic. There were some lovely sections where Candace recalls life with her parents or fleeting relationships she has with men in the city. It's a book about immigrant life, about fitting in (and not fitting in). A lot of post-apocalyptic novels ("Dog Stars," "The Road," "Station Eleven") focus on survival, but there are no hunger games in "Severance," no fight for resources. If you've survived the fever, then you're golden. I liked that freshness in the genre. It seemed to give Ma much more room to write about the other things one would undoubtedly experience in that situation, like loneliness, grief, or memories. After experiencing the Covid-19 epidemic, I can see that some of Ma's speculations are eerily accurate. The breakdown of society can come slowly. People try to keep going about their daily lives. And I really appreciated the braveness of Ma to leave a couple narrative strands open-ended in her conclusion. Some books drag on too long, but "Severance" ended right where it should; a great debut.

Ling Ma's Severance is narrated by Candace Chen, a millennial living in New York as the world succumbs to an epidemic of Shen Fever, a disease from China spread by fungal spores which cause sufferers to descend into a sort of trance and repeat in their final days the meaningless routines that linger in their memory: "they could operate the mouse of a dead PC, they could still drive stick in a jacked sedan, they could run an empty dishwasher, they could water dead houseplants."The fevered are essentially harmless, so this isn't a zombie apocalypse horror story - it's a quiet, thoughtful novel in which the real threat comes not from the fevered but the survivors, who, in the case of the group Candace joins, predictably descend into cultish behaviours that can only end in trouble.The post-apocalyptic storyline, however, is really only a small part of the book. Interwoven with Candace's experiences after Shen Fever strikes is the story of her relationship with her parents, their move from Fuzhou, China to Utah, and her years living in New York after graduating. In New York she abandons her ambitions to become a photographer and takes a job working in production for Spectra, a firm of publishers. Candace works in the Bible department, doing a job so routine that it sees her plagued by recurring dreams of inadequate paper stock crumpling in printing presses. Candace is oddly comforted by the routine of her job, despite the dubious ethics of sourcing suppliers in China whose staff work in appalling, often dangerous conditions, dying of diseases caused by precious stone processing so that her employer can produce the 'Gemstone Bible', aimed at American teenage girls in the Bible Belt and sold with a semi-precious charm attached.Candace, perhaps partly because of her immigrant roots, is nagged by a slight sense of otherness, and is curiously detached from the world around her - I don't think it's an accident that her first love is photography, an activity which requires her to observe rather than participate, and yet somehow she also barely notices when the world starts to end around her. However, while she doesn't appear to enjoy her job as such, she is strangely comforted by it, as if its very meaninglessness brings a meaning to her life that's otherwise lacking. When others are leaving New York as Shen Fever takes hold, she continues to turn up to work. Eventually, she's the only employee, continuing to send emails and attempting to schedule production tasks long after the rest of her colleagues have died or fled and Spectra's Chinese suppliers have succumbed to Shen Fever themselves.Is Candace, perfectly healthy but turning up day after day in an almost empty city to do a job that no longer really exists, much different from the fevered woman she observes in a clothing store, repeatedly folding the same items over and over again as she rots alive? And when her contract is finally over and she decides to leave New York with a group of fellow millennials, armed with "bottled water and exfoliating body wash and iPods and beers and tinted moisturiser" looted from an abandoned WalMart, will she manage to survive in a world without meaning, and avoid succumbing to the deadly Shen Fever which might - just might - be triggered by nostalgia? What might just save Candace, it seems, is her immigrant experience. Candace doesn't feel any real affection for any of the places and things she encounters on her journey across America: for her, the place that triggers those feelings of intense, unnerving nostalgia is her original home city of Fuzhou.This is a novel of complicated ideas, simply written - but it's also often funny. Candace herself has a detached, observational wit, self-deprecating but never performatively so. It's sad too, imbued with a completely unsentimental melancholy. If you're looking for a post-apocalyptic rollercoaster ride of a novel, this isn't that book, but I loved this understated satire of consumerism, missed opportunities, modern living and the immigrant experience, and would definitely look out for more work by Ling Ma.

I am really not sure what to make of this story. The first couple of pages were really exciting, with a few laugh out loud parts, but then after that it kind of fizzled out for me. Other reviewers have detailed the story line better than I could but I did not consider Candace to be an over privileged millennial. I thought she was presented as a rather lost young woman who missed her dead parents and basically needed mothering. I felt rather sad for her. However, that was it. No engagement with any of the characters or the story, because quite honestly there wasn't any real story that I could discern. In fact I found it all a bit boring. I read the book twice because I had completely forgotten that I had already read it because I found it too bland to remember. That is a shame because what is written is written well. It is just so 'flat'. Nothing much really happens. Even the psychopathic Bob was rather uninteresting. This story could have been developed so much better. The only thing that really held my interest was the NY Ghost part. Now that was very interesting and the irony of remaining at your post and being paid large sums of money to do so when there is no-one left to spend it with or on did not escape me. This book is the first from this author, who has the potential to do much better. I really hope that she does and will look out for her.

I bought this as it was on so many top 10 lists for Indy sci-fi authors. I don’t know why, it bored me. Didn’t care at all about the heroine or those she met. Undoubtedly a talented author though. Meandering annoying back story butting in all the time. Life’s too short. Left it on the train seat unfinished.

This was bought as a present - the recipient loved it.

Hands down one of the best books I have read in the past year. I know it will stay with me for a long time. Ling Ma’s protagonist is perfectly drawn and her storytelling - of the decline of New York City during a fateful pandemic - is haunting. Recommend this to anyone!