Everything is not as it seems. That’s a central thread that carries the novel Wool by Hugh Howey from the opening scene through to the very end. This is a highly polished and self-contained dystopian tale, where the characters’ peril is omnipresent because of the confines of the space and the powerful forces that are stacked against them.

What I didn’t expect was the emotional rollercoaster ride the story took me on. No one is safe in the Silo, and that point is driven home by the constant surprises the story delivers. The story had me rooting for the underdogs, only to have hope ripped away in bruising, and sometimes irrevocable, fashion. There are influences here that I would attribute to other popular stories with ensemble casts and big stakes. But this story feels wholly original in some key aspects of the dystopian genre. Find out in the spoiler section below.

It also taps into a central requirement for the best fiction – it makes you care, and care deeply. I was rooting for the main characters every chapter and wondering what sacrifices would be enough, from any one person or the collective whole, to ensure the survival of their tiny town underground.

This story is set on keeping secrets in a place where one slip of the tongue could prove fatal, on a societal level. It’s high fun and has a thrilling pace. Not knowing who at any point will disrupt the delicate balance, you’re always guessing about the ultimate outcome. The protagonists make the world feel real and lived in. Nothing is taken for granted, from the materials manufactured to the energy it takes to climb the stairs. It’s great character drama and thought-provoking end-of-the-world fiction. I highly recommend.

5 of 5 stars

SPOILERS:

What makes Wool unique?

For one, the “cleaning” is simply an expelled tribe member wiping the camera lens to the outside world so those below can see if things have gotten any better, and presumably make it easier on the claustrophobic. The first person the reader sees break the cardinal rule of saying they want to go outside is the sheriff’s wife, Allison. It’s an absolutely heartbreaking moment in the cafeteria of level one, where the reader is still not quite sure what the big deal is, but, oh yes, it’s the biggest deal. Allison has just signed her own death warrant and not even the sheriff can stop it. It’s utterly gripping character drama. I will admit that watching the TV adaptation of the book brings all of this to life in brilliant and chilling fashion.

There’s a bait and switch that got me good: the characters I’m invested in and who have the most power are quickly dispatched in the beginning. Mayor Jahn’s is a figure I wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t corrupt, but her inner monologue made me realize she’s a fairly honest civil servant who sees the potential end of her whole society if she can’t install the right successors in the sheriff’s and mayor’s offices.

I love the conceit of a society living in a 148-story subterranean town with loosely implied (and explicit) social stratifications between the up top, mids, and down deep. And the only way to travel is by the central staircase. It’s so cool to see that society come to life, especially in the TV adaptation, which really nails a distinct look and feel, including the farms, and other wider open spaces.

Knox! They killed Knox, and Mark and many others in the deep down. Lucas has to come to grips with killing and deputy Peter Billings has to really recognize his place in the present (and history) at the end of the story in either letting the lie continue or becoming a man of conviction. I love this character in the show, where he has much more of a story.

Juliette is a bad ass. Pure and simple. She is stoic in the face of near certain death, unflinching in her will to survive, and brave beyond words in going back to where it all started, with slim odds that her life will continue past the events rising like a tide against her. I’m a big fan.