Juice

Juice

International critics have compared this new story to McCarthy’s Road, so…sign me up!

At first glance, you can hear the echo of The Road in Juice. A burned-out wasteland, scorching sun, DIY-ed “Mad Max” truck, and the shadowy silhouettes of two wayfarers. A man and a mute girl sneaking around a seemingly abandoned mine, suddenly startled by a stranger with a crossbow. The following dialogue hooks you right in.

He looks at the child.

She yours?

Yes.

You’re a bloody liar.

She’s not for trade, I say.

So that’s how you got her?

No. Hell, no.

But she’s not yours, is she.

She’s with me. We’re traveling together.

Doing what?

Doing what we can, comrade.

Don’t fucking comrade me, he says. She real?

Would she flinch if she wasn’t?

This scene alone would make a great one-act play. But there’s more. For the first quarter of this book, readers are kept on the edge of their page by sharp dialogue and life or death bargaining while staring at the business end of an arrow. Our hero uses a retelling of his life story as a means to haggle for his and the girl’s life. Hoping to turn a foe into a friend. A comrade.

Juice

Winton, Tim

EnglishHardback

Pan Macmillan

ISBN: 9781035050598

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Delivery on Monday, 5. of May 2025

€20.43

Common price: €22.70

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On order

Delivery on Monday, 5. of May 2025

€20.43

€22.70 -10%

A slow-paced narration gradually dims the tension the book started with. The immediate overwhelming fear for one’s life subsides as we follow the protagonist's tale – gleaning in an increasingly arid world we’ve so far only caught a glimpse of. Worldbuilding takes over as the reader slowly pieces together a picture of this world and the people surviving in it. The rich shield themselves in impenetrable fortresses and cling to the remains of companies such as Amazon and Gazprom, now broken into factions. The poor, including our protagonist, are left with nothing but their lives or an opportunity to fight for “justice” in a paramilitary organization called The Service.

The Service proves to be our hero’s calling and they send him on a myriad of top-secret missions – all of which are full of violence inflicted on any desired target, including women and children.

But why? And how is it that he’s now traveling with a child?

The whims of nature are merciless in the wasteland with night temperatures dropping below freezing, while days are filled with an unceasing battle for water, crops, and dignity itself. The ecological transcendence turns the story into a cautionary tale about the dangers of people burying their heads in the sand. Once you pass the breaking point, there’s no way back. Or are we able to redeem ourselves? Winton finishes his book with a similarly burning question, albeit one concerning the nature of life itself.

The finale is the notional cherry on top, hitting the sensitive bull’s eye. Even now, weeks after finishing the book, I still ponder what happened and how it happened. Winton’s work incited many questions… as it should. After all, that’s what exceptional works of literature should do – not necessarily provide us with answers but invite questions.

There’s a certain self-assurance in the author’s writing style as he narrates a monumental story to a completely unpredictable character. However, the more you learn about this world, the more you’re aware that “goodness” is a relative term. Your empathy jumps back and forth between the kidnapper and the kidnappee. After all, could you be on the side of someone who was ruthlessly killing children, just because he is (supposedly) protecting one, now? What does it mean to be human? Can anyone claim the right to survival? The child? Who’s to believe? I’m asking, because in the ruins of the world, anyone can tell lies and quite a few can fabricate their own truths. Another lesson I learned from McCarthy.