I read The Islands At The End of The World, by Austin Aslan, on the plane to Honolulu, along with Big Little Lies. I’d been reading a lot about Hawaii before my trip, and I’m always interested in post-apocalyptic stories, so I enjoyed this story about surviving on Oahu after electronics mysteriously fail worldwide. Teenage Leilani and her dad are on Oahu for Leilani’s experimental epilepsy treatment when communications and electricity start to fail, and in the new world that opens, they have to use their wits to survive and make it back home to Leilani’s mom, grandfather, and little brother. It’s a solid adventure story, with believable factions and a supernatural twist.  (It’s also the first post-apocalyptic story I’ve read in which a girl loots a razor to shave her legs, and, honestly, I’d still be plucking my eyebrows in the post-civilization world.)

But I have to say that I didn’t fully get this novel until I was in Hawaii, and had been here a couple weeks. A lot of the story relies on an understanding of Hawaii and Hawaiian life, on the simultaneous nearness and incredible distance of the islands, and one the constant contrast of old and new lives. I thought of this book when my coworkers noticed the wild chickens running around, and joked that Hawaiians could catch and pick a dinner if they wanted.  I thought of this book when I saw the gorgeous beaches and plastic trash. 

The whole thing really shows the exploitation of Hawaii for (foreign) tourism, from the weird lack of ferries between islands (which completely blows my mind — how is there no commuter line or tourist cruise between the islands???) to the conflict between locals and visitors, Hawaiians and haoles, wealthy and struggling, all just under the surface on the beautiful islands.