#RICK YANCEY THE 5TH WAVE SERIES FULL#

#RICK YANCEY THE 5TH WAVE SERIES FULL#

The scene in which she contemplates a termination, holding a cap full of antifreeze to her lips and declaring, вЂThis is the world theyвЂ™ve made, where giving life is crueler than taking it awayвЂ™, in The Last Star lingered with me for far longer than was comfortable. For вЂRingerвЂ™, it is her unexpected pregnancy which makes her loss more acutely felt. The image of his bloodied body, fist curled around the crucifix, is a spectre which Cassie cannot shake throughout the successive novels she mourns the time before, a time when such actions against another human being were unthinkable. In the first novel, Cassie is cornered in a deserted convenience store by a man she later dubs вЂCrucifix SoldierвЂ™ вЂ“ a wounded survivor whom she shoots after mistaking the cross in his coat for an offensive weapon. Most striking of these impossible choices are the moments in which the booksвЂ™ female protagonists вЂ“ Cassie and вЂRingerвЂ™ вЂ“ reckon with the preservation of their humanity. The 5 th Wave, however, is a trilogy which repeatedly resists such an endeavour: at its core are characters faced with the inherent impossibility of correcting their mistakes, propelled relentlessly onwards through a never-ending cycle of guilt and fear of what is coming next. In this article, Alice Vincent makes the case that the impulse to re-read lies in its potential for allowing us to вЂmake amends for our earlier misdemeanours, literary or otherwiseвЂ™. The fictional вЂRed DeathвЂ™ had bled into my current reality. Field hospitals and mass graves hastily assembled to handle its victims. An airborne virus passed onto humans from an animal carrier. Pestilence ricocheted off the page, its plosive sounds unbearably loud to my ears. With echoes of the last year pulsing inside my head, I devoured the first book just as voraciously the second time around вЂ“ then consumed its sequels with equal fervour вЂ“ albeit experiencing an entirely new sense of dread settling into my stomach. Isolated, my street soundless as everyone else went to work, for a brief moment it felt like Cassie SullivanвЂ™s words could be my own: IвЂ™m the last human in the universe. This time it was sitting in my garden, recovering from a mild вЂ“ but nonetheless nasty вЂ“ dose of COVID, that I re-entered the fractured, desolate landscape of YanceyвЂ™s imagination. I sped through the first book, unnerved and perplexed by its alarming predictions for a few seconds, and then moved swiftly on to the next made-for-screen YA novel in my TBR pile. Back then, my Instagram handle was still вЂ“ which, rather embarrassingly, I only rectified a few months ago. I first encountered The 5 th Wave as an overeager preteen, caught up in a slew of post- The Hunger Games releases that promised disconcerting visions of apocalyptic futures, bundled with вЂwhich-basic-male-love-interest-will-she-choose-this-time?вЂ™ romances.

Most striking of these impossible choices are the moments in which the booksвЂ™ female protagonists вЂ“ Cassie and вЂRingerвЂ™ вЂ“ reckon with the preservation of their humanity Chloe Bond

Rick yancey the 5th wave series