Despite being published over a year ago in July 2021, Gutter Child continues to be a groundbreaking novel that deserves to be discussed beyond Canada, despite its Canadian roots. There are many notable novels within the same genres—speculative fiction, dystopian—that continue to be widely praised, and with good reason, such as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins or 1984 by George Orwell. However, Gutter Child remains on par with these novels and certainly keeps up with them in this genre, and overall, elevates the genre to new heights.
Gutter Child takes place in the fictional worlds of the Mainland, home of the privileged elite, and the Gutter, where the poor and marginalized live divided from the Mainland by an enormous wall. The Gutter people are given marks on their hands to indicate whether they’re from the Gutter or not—one of many rules and regulations they must adhere to. The novel follows Elimina Dubois, a teenage girl born in the Gutter and chosen among 100 Gutter babies to be sent to live in the Mainland as a social experiment led by their government. She is adopted by a Mainland mother, and set to be raised in that society as part of this experiment.
When her Mainland mother dies, Elimina is sent to live and study at an elite school called Livingstone Academy on the Mainland that promises the young students from the Gutter—including Elimina, despite her life in the Mainland—opportunity to pay off most of their debt by the time their schooling is done. That “debt” being a long, convoluted explanation by the Mainlanders that essentially means the Gutter people’s ancestors wronged the Mainlanders, so the following generations are therefore indebted to the government.
Without diving too heavily into spoiler territory here, it’s clear that Gutter Child follows a fascinating character with compelling twists and turns in the novel regarding the two worlds that are divided. But not only that, the novel expertly weaves real social issues into the mix–black identity, belonging, anti-Black racism and white privilege/supremacy–that make this novel a scarier dystopia than others. Although this is an imagined society, many of the issues painted here for these characters have never been imagined or fictional for black communities in the real world; they’ve been living with them for their entire lives and history.
Gutter Child does what so many other successful speculative, dystopian-esque books tend to do, which is to focus on an imagined society that often seems too out of the box to become true or to be true about the world and the society we live in. Although this doesn’t necessarily mean those novels are bad; on the contrary, many of them are amazing depictions of broken worlds and societies that make interesting commentary on the issues of said society—it does show, clearly, that this is an established characteristic of many dystopias. However, within this characteristic, Gutter Child edges itself just ahead of these other classics with how Richardson chose to depict her world.
An example would be in The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. An amazing set of books and movies, absolutely, and they deserve all the praise in the world for what they’ve done for the genre and for the messaging it provides, but in comparison to Gutter Child, The Hunger Games becomes a series that is not as fearful or scary of a dystopia when it gets down to it. Of course, not every dystopian needs to be scary, or something to be feared or horrified at, and the world of the The Hunger Games—the Capitol, the districts, etc.—are all part of an imagined society that has some ties to real world issues and conflicts such as: governmental power of the common people, how authority figures use that power to remain greedy, and how it’s all entertainment for those people. This is something that reflects the real world. For example, think about the differences between the wealthy class and working class people in their day-to-day lives, how life may seem more relaxed, entertaining, and fun for the rich society, while the working class work to make ends meet. At the end of the day, the revolution in this trilogy is something hopeful and inspirational for readers as well, but this type of dystopia relies on things that are more fantastical than realist to get their point across.
The point of this comparison, however, is to show that in Gutter Child, the “imagined” society is something genuinely horrifying and completely rational, despite the divisions within the created world Richardson cooked up. Although it’s never explicitly stated in the novel, the Mainland is most likely made up of a majority white population/only a white population, while the Gutter (at least, many of the characters we meet in the Gutter) are people of colour, more specifically black people. Most of these conclusions can be drawn from analogies to the real world, and the institutions put in place that reinforce anti-Blackness, such as segregation of the Gutter people within the novel, or the mentions of “faces just like mine” by Elimina when describing people in the Gutter, indicating that on the Mainland, she’s seen as different and an outsider due to her features, whether that’s her hair or facial features.
As a white writer, I don’t claim to know any of the struggles that black people face in their daily lives, nor do I have personal experiences like them to make any official commentary or claims about Gutter Child. However, within Gutter Child, many of the story beats and literary devices, such as the imagery of the X’s on the hands, or the entire premise of a “debt” that is owed to the Mainlanders (white people?) is very much tied to real world issues and this notion that anyone other than white people, specifically black people, need to answer for things simply for existing. Which, of course, is horrifying to think about, but Richardson expertly weaves these messages and rhetoric into her own world and creates both a dystopia that’s outrageous and terrifying to read about in this fictional, fractured world, while also making the point that this world isn’t so fictional—and that black people fight these things daily.
Another thing that Gutter Child does well is the fact that through these traumas, Elimina still finds ways to fight and defy the system put in place, while also providing an important theme of black identity and what belonging truly means in this world. It’s a beautiful, sad storyline, but it doesn’t focus on the “all is doomed” or the bleak and depressing, like George Orwell’s 1984 in which the protagonist, Winston Smith, (spoilers!) is tortured and shot in the back of the head at the end. While many argue that the overall ending doesn’t completely mean all is lost, that the system may change after this event, it’s still a sad ending for the protagonist and a bleak journey for Winston. In comparison, Gutter Child depicts the protagonist dealing with her own traumas—physically and mentally—while coping with a difficult journey ahead of her, but still manages to include pockets of hope strewn about that make it less bleak at the end of the day.
Elimina is a strong protagonist, which is made clear, and in the end she’s not completely alone. In the end, she has something worth fighting for and worth holding on to, and she doesn’t want to believe all is lost. The reader can feel the same way, and that’s how I felt while reading this book, despite the slight cliffhanger and questions that the ending raised.
While The Hunger Games and 1984 discuss society as a whole, and predict a future for the world where autonomy doesn’t exist and the government or higher-ups abuse their power, Gutter Child does all of this while simultaneously grounding the novel in a more realistic setting and space. Although this is a work of fiction, Gutter Child’s use of the speculative and dystopian genres connect strongly with the real world and the real-life issues that black people face daily, and the consequences of those issues.
None of the other books mentioned are terrible books by any means, but Gutter Child is a book that takes these formulas and characteristics and elevates them to hammer the points home. It’s a fictional, broken world, but at the meat of the story, it’s a world that isn’t so fictional—and that’s what makes it even more fractured.
If you haven’t read Gutter Child by Jael Richardson, you should. You can find it on Amazon, Jael Richardson’s website, and many other online spaces. It’s beautiful, tragic, hopeful, and authentic all tied up in a bow, and I highly recommend it for fans of the speculative fiction and dystopian genres.
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