Review of "The City of Ember"

"There may be no one left in the city by then or no safe place for them to come back to."

     In Jeanne DuPrau's The City of Ember, the isolated city where twelve-year-olds Lina Mayfleet and Doon Harrow grew up is no longer a safe haven from the darkness beyond. Ember's storerooms, vast subterranean vaults stocked with precious food, medicines, and light bulbs, are running dry. The generator responsible for powering the floodlights is barely chugging along, leading to sporadic blackouts that cast the entire city into midnight. On Assignment Day, technically-savvy Doon exchanges his job as Messenger for Lina's Pipeworks assignment with the hope that he can repair the electricity-creating behemoth. However, the generator will not give up its secrets easily, and with Ember running on electrical dregs the two face one last lead: a nearly ruined page of ancient Instructions for escaping Ember. They have their way out; now they must convince people to listen.

     DuPrau's world is impossibly realistic. Everything about Ember is thought through, from its layout to its conservation of paper to Assignment Day, when twelve-year-olds leave the classroom behind in favor of a full-time occupation. Whether it's gathering in clumps on the street to talk or belting out Ember's three songs during the Singing, citizens cling to their habits and traditions like a lifeline. Yet, somehow, these worldbuilding factors don't bog down the narrative with extraneous details. Instead, they sculpt an entirely plausible city out of nothing, one where danger is imminent and everything Doon and Lina do contributes to the story. Nothing is wasted, in the tale or the land it describes.

     Lina and Doon are a far cry from the average kids who may get swept up into a rebellion in other books. When Lina discovers the Instructions, everyone around her thinks they are some kind of long-lost recipe, but she is convinced they're more important than that. She recruits Doon, the boy who was once her friend, and he takes on the challenge of discovering the forgotten exit. Each has their own motivation, be it fear or hope or a desire for acknowledgement, that is grounded in human personality and makes them seem fundamentally real. Slipping into their heads is incredibly easy, especially once the stakes grow higher and the emotion rippling off them is practically tangible.

      Our heroes aren't in this alone, either. Helping them are Clary, the greenhouse worker full of sage advice; Lizzie, Lina's morally unsure best friend; Mrs. Murdo, who takes care of Lina's baby sister when Granny falls ill; and Mr. Harrow, Doon's father, who only shows up a couple of times but who marks every page he touches with unmistakable wisdom and strength of character. Though they don't actively participate in the hunt for an escape route, each contributes an action or piece of advice that helps their young friends along. For the most part, adults in Ember are good, fair people who work hard to set strong examples for their progeny, which is a big improvement over those in many other children's novels. This also means there is a distinct lack of foul language, romance, and violence, though the protagonists still manage to land themselves in quite a bit of trouble before the story has run its course.

     I would recommend this book to anyone, young or old, who is interested in a fascinating new world playing host to two smart, sympathetic young people searching for answers. Doon and Lina are great protagonists backed by a broad spectrum of friends and allies who really contribute to their personal arcs and the overall plot alike. Together, they must decode the Instructions and fight to make their discovery heard. With beautiful, easy-to-understand prose, great heroes, and brilliant worldbuilding, Jeanne DuPrau's The City of Ember is by far one of the better children's books in print, and deserves a resounding five stars.