Chance Lee's Reviews > Challenger Deep

I recently asked someone, "Would you rather travel into outer space or the deepest depths of the ocean?" He said, "There's nothing underwater. Outer space, there's so much out there." Yeah, if you're interested in flying rocks! My answer: The depths of the ocean, because there's so much fascinating life down where the sun cannot reach. But both would be too scary for me to actually attempt, because your vessel of choice could depressurize and turn your head inside out.

Shortly after that thought experiment, I read the blurb for this book: "Caden Bosch is on a ship that's headed for the deepest point on Earth: Challenger Deep, the southern part of the Marianas Trench."

Serendipity! I immediately put in an ILL at my library.

I should have kept reading, or, if I did, actually paid attention to what I read. The blurb continues, "Caden Bosch is a brilliant high school student whose friends are starting to notice his odd behavior." Okay, this is a kids' book. He could be on a ship and in school. That type of things happens in fiction. (In bad fiction!, I'd have said if I were paying attention.)

The blurb continues, "Caden Bosch is designated the ship's artist in residence, to document the journey with images." Okay, this could be interesting, I'd think.

Furthermore, "Caden Bosch pretends to join the school track team but spends his days walking for miles, absorbed by the thoughts in his head." Uhh, I guess you gotta keep moving when you're underwater. You wouldn't want all the fluid going to your legs or something, right?

Finally, "Caden Bosch is split between his allegiance to the captain and the allure of mutiny." Ooh, drama! (Also, I hate when blurbs repeatedly name the character like I'm going to start chanting it as if he's my cult leader.)

The way this blurb is written, I expected something akin to The Abyss. Deep sea exploration breeds paranoia and insecurity. Unfortunately, it's the opposite. Normal high school kid is grappling with schizophrenia. He hallucinates being on a weird ship, which only increases his all-too-real sense of paranoia.

This story could be fascinating if written differently. There is no consistent structure. Chapters are very short, one- or two-pages long. The first five chapters are either dream sequences, rambling thoughts, or set on the ship. The next two chapters are in the character's reality, where he interacts with his mom and dad, his sister, and feels disconnected from his friends at school. Chapters 9-11 are set in the ship. 12-13 are reality. 14-17: ship. 18-19: reality. 20-21: ship. 22-24: reality? The chapters are sometimes punctuated by illustrations only a dad could love (the illustrator is Shusterman's son, and Shusterman says about his son's doodles, "There is no greater artwork in the world.")

There is no rhythm to the chapter structure. I feel like the intent is to create "instability" in the narrative. "Being schizophrenic is confusing!" someone might say to justify this lack of structure, but it feels like Shusterman is using the inherent instability of mental illness as an excuse to not give his book a coherent rhythm or structure. Plus, the ship sequences are absurd. There's a magic talking parrot; the captain speaks in riddles; the crow's nest is bigger on the inside than the outside... and for what purpose? "It's an allegory!" someone might say to justify the incoherent contents of these chapters, but as a reader, I don't need 200 pages of allegory, and "allegory" isn't an excuse to throw stream-of-consciousness writing on the page and call it a novel.

I started skipping the ship chapters and reading only the reality chapters. I didn't feel lost as a reader at all, but I did feel bored. I didn't find the writing particularly compelling. One entire chapter where the narrator morosely ponders the meaning of the phrase "a penny for your thoughts" grated on me. "If pennies become worthless, does that devalue our thoughts to less than nothing?" Ugh.

I read the last few chapters to confirm that (view spoiler)[all the ship sequences are a product of the main character's mental illness. They are. (hide spoiler)] If this book were about half the length, I may have gone on this journey into the depths. But, kind of like a twisted combination of my initial question that caused my attraction to this book, I've dove into the water and found only rocks.