Margaret Atwood has the uncanny ability to create works of literature that read like topographical maps with big red arrows that announce, “You are here.” or at least, “By the time you read this yo
The Sierra is gone. Colorado is dead. Phoenix has burned. The sky is “bloodred with ash.” Cheese comes in jars and looks like DayGlo; pears are grimy, and blackberries are filled with dust.
“A deeply felt story of human survival; of friendship that endures and abides the twists of fate; and the ability to see beauty in the world as it is, no matter what degradation of the plan
