In the future of 'Here Lies,' the mourning can't bury their dead
Olivia Clare Friedman's Here Lies provides a poignant portrait of the way grief can bring people together, uniting even strangers through a common pain and commitment to keep memories alive.
The Louisiana of Olivia Clare Friedman's debut novel Here Lies feels familiar at first. Roadside stores in the fictional small town of St. Genevieve sell Pop-Tarts, Little Debbie snack cakes, Abita Purple Haze beer. Reruns of Matlock and Perry Mason air on daytime television.
But the world of is not our own. Friedman brings us 20 years into the future, when the ravages of climate change long foretold have come to pass: "Sea levels were rising at a faster rate. On the coasts, the ground eroded faster. Storm surges, whole walls of water during storms, were more frequent." Gas-powered cars and air conditioning are still allowed, but
