Lalla Paul, the main character of The Ship, isn’t born a heroine. It might be the end of the world, what with the military government periodically bombing the hell out of unregistered citizens, but she still lives with her parents in a flat in London, has enough to eat and is taken to the British Museum every day to be educated, walking past homeless and dispossessed people she barely notices. In this post-collapse society, she’s incredibly privileged. And her father’s every thought is her protection, her future. So far, so spoilt brat.
When I wrote The Ship, one of the things I wanted to explore was the responsibility of the wealthy in times of crisis. The rich are getting richer while the cost of austerity is falling on the poor. Consumption has become a hobby and wealth an end in itself. The stupendously wealthy have a level of influence that has nothing to do with their intelligence, experience or insight (at the time of writing, Donald Trump looks likely to secure the Republican nomination for US president). The consequences of climate change are falling upon those without the means to move, or to protect their homes.
In The Ship, Lalla’s father, Michael, has attained this level of wealth. His priority, understandably, is Lalla’s safety. He buys a huge cruise ship, invests his influence and resources on stocking it, and offers sanctuary to five hundred worthy people, on the condition that they’ll form a strong, decent society in which his daughter can grow up.
And this is where Lalla’s heroism begins to emerge. Instead of being overwhelmed and grateful for all that has been done for her, she begins to ask questions. Where are they going? What are they doing? And – most importantly – what about the people they have left behind? This doesn’t make her popular. It doesn’t make her easy to live with. It certainly doesn’t make her particularly likeable, at least not to start with. What is does, is make her humanity’s last hope. And if that’s not a role for a heroine, I don’t know what is.
The Ship, of course, is a fantasy. But fantasy is the best forum for exploring reality. In fantasy, we can push our characters to the very limits and see what happens. And the kick-ass heroines are not the ones who go along with what society has set out for them. Arya Stark, Jessica Jones, Katniss Everdeen – they all stand on the edge, looking in, and think hard about what they’re looking at. They don’t take the comfortable paths. They certainly wouldn’t be the easiest of house guests. But they’re the people who believe that things can be different.
At first, Lalla acts as though the world revolves around her. You can’t really blame her – it does. The Ship was created for her. But in order to survive in a gated community of exceptional privilege, you have to do two things. Firstly you have to believe that you’re better than the people outside it. And secondly, you have to accept the expectations that the community has of you.
Lalla Paul refuses to do either of these things. And that, for me, is what makes her a heroine. I love her. And if you decide to read The Ship (which would make me very happy), I hope you will too.
The Ship by Antonia Honeywell is published in paperback by W&N, out now http://amzn.to/1K7sAtQ
Richard Marpole
Jennie Ivins