“Exit Party” Is Emily St. John Mandel’s Most Ambitious Puzzle Yet

Ari Waker walks across Silverlake with her roommate, past bomb-sniffing dogs and Red Cross tents, toward a party. It is Los Angeles in 2031, the first spring after the collapse of the United States. The curfew has been lifted, the Republic of California has been declared, and inside, people drink and dance. Then comes “a shift,” as publisher Penguin Random House’s jacket copy puts it: a bewildered double stumbles through the crowd and out into the night, and Kareem, the party’s host, vanishes into thin air.

That is the doorway of Emily St. John Mandel’s Exit Party — the biggest literary release of the fall fiction season. The A.V. Club named it its September fiction pick, praising how it “strings together parallel timelines, alternate realities, and disparate futures” around timely themes of surveillance, chaos, resilience, totalitarianism, and loss. As Ari unravels that strange night, the story carries her from a future America splintered by civil war to an elegant resort on the seaside cliffs of Greece where weapons dealers hide, a domed city in Paris, and a colony on the moon.

A party that becomes a doorway

Mandel’s great trick has always been to take a large, abstract catastrophe — a pandemic, a market collapse — and narrow it to the people living through it. Exit Party does that with the collapse of a country. NPR Illinois’ September 9 review describes a United States that “had come undone following a coup d’etat.” Ari, recently released from prison, steps into “an uneasy aftermath,” and the party is the first place where that uneasiness takes a physical form: guests duplicating themselves — “extra people,” as one attendee tells her.

Years later, another attendee confides to Ari: “I think the party was also a door,” according to the NPR Illinois review. Jonathan Hahn, writing in Sierra magazine, describes how Mandel peels the novel’s reality into two worlds — in one, Ari is a criminal; in the other, a police officer — then weaves them together again, “defying every expectation.” Reviewer Rowan Hooper at New Scientist calls it “a parallel-universe story that flits backwards and forwards in time, from character to character, and eventually between worlds,” adding that it is “as elegant and brilliantly executed as her fans have grown to expect, a book where every detail matters.”

Why this turn matters for Mandel’s readers

Exit Party is a departure and a homecoming at once. It is a departure because it leans further into speculative mechanics than anything since Sea of Tranquility: doppelgangers, shadow worlds, alternate timelines. Yet its preoccupations — surveillance, art, survival, loss — run straight through her work.

The A.V. Club’s preview notes that fans “will also find intriguing connections to her previous novels,” though it does not spell them out — so readers will have to hunt for them. There is plenty to revisit: Station Eleven (2014) was a National Book Award and PEN/Faulkner finalist, won the 2015 Arthur C. Clarke Award, and became an HBO Max series; The Glass Hotel was shortlisted for the Giller Prize; and Sea of Tranquility landed on Barack Obama’s list of favorite books of 2022, per Penguin Random House.

What has changed is the scale of the wreckage. In Station Eleven, the collapse was total and sudden, and the consolation was art — the creed “survival is insufficient.” In Exit Party, the collapse is political and ongoing: a country unmade by a coup, cities walling themselves off, ordinary life persisting uneasily around the violence. The question Mandel keeps asking — who are we when everything falls apart? — gets a new answer: who are we when there is more than one of us to ask?

Where to start in the fall fiction season

Her novels are largely standalone, so pick the doorway that sounds like yours: Station Eleven for the pandemic-era classic that made her a household name, Sea of Tranquility for time-hopping puzzles with a gentler heart, The Glass Hotel for white-collar crime and ghostly reckoning. Then arrive at Exit Party ready to notice the echoes. At 320 pages, per Penguin Random House, it is a brisk read by Mandel’s standards, and the doubling structure is the kind of thing book clubs argue about for hours: which version of Ari would you be?

Waterstones is hosting “An Evening with Emily St. John Mandel” for the release, with an audience Q&A and signing — check local bookstores for tour dates if you want to hear her discuss the connections the A.V. Club teased.

Why it matters

Books like Exit Party matter not because they predict the future — though Mandel’s reputation for prescience, earned when the real pandemic arrived six years after Station Eleven, will inevitably be part of the conversation — but because they give us a language for living with uncertainty. A novel about doubles is a novel about the lives we did not live, the selves we might have been, and the fragile systems that hold any version of the world together. Mandel’s readers have always found her when the world felt unsteady. This one arrives at another such moment.

Sources

Leave a Reply

Scroll to Top