Helictites & an ethical tug-of-war

Cave-In
by Pam Withers

Winnipeg: Great Plains Press, 2024
$18.95 / 9781773371245

Reviewed by Alison Acheson

*

I aim my light upwards. The ceiling is more than a storey high, with formations filling it like an upside-down garden: rimstone dams and step-like terraces that resemble a fancy fountain in the courtyard of a five-star hotel, and dogtooth spar—a weird name if I ever heard one—pyramid-shaped crystals that look like dog’s teeth. This cave even has helictites, a curly version of stalactites that develop from water seeping so slowly through central canals that the calcite crystals form irregular positions at the tips. Like stalactites with a perm. —from Cave-In

Throughout this novel for young people, the descriptions of caves and caving are evocative, even inviting, even for this claustrophobic reviewer. The mention of “perm” as a way to describe stalactites is pure whimsy.

Cave-In, by Vancouver’s Pam Withers, is an adventure novel, Withers’ strength. She’s now published over two dozen such works, and gained a reputation for action-oriented, page-turning stories with titles like Raging River, Stowaway, and The Parkour Club. Withers also works hard to promote reading for reluctant readers with her title Jump-Starting Boys: Help Your Reluctant Learner Find Success in School & Life.

Cave-In has a significant balance to it: along with this push of action, there’s thoroughly researched caving knowledge and details, environmental material, and threads of community-building. Underlying all, is a focus on the nature of friendship. Genre-wise, there’s a good dash of mystery and a wee bit of romance—just the right amount. 

There’s mapping, too. What is it about maps!? No, there aren’t any drawings—which would have been good. But nonetheless, the element of mapping adds a sense of adventure to the text and story. Main character sixteen-year-old Hudson and his father have created maps of the intricacies of the caves, always looking for the connection between the two systems of caves. And in the past, Hudson’s ex-friend, Mica, has been a part of the search. Now there’s a sense of real competition to see who might locate this “door.”

But others want these maps, including Mr. Toop, president of Tass Tree Felling. Mr. Toop just happens to be the father of Ana, to whom Hudson is attracted, and Mr. Toop would dearly love to get his money-stained mitts on those maps. 

The story is set in a fictional town called Tass (based on Tahsis, on Vancouver Island—a place known for caving). Once upon a time a church did disappear into a sinkhole in that community. But in Withers’ story that church was filled with congregation. So there’s ghost story here, too. Ghosts do hover in the background and make an appearance even.

But Cave-In is very present-day in its portrayal of greed and capitalism doing what it does best—run amok and cause ruin—and political forces. All is captured well and, alas, feels real.

What also feels real is how the main character, Hudson, wrestles with being caught between what he knows is “right”—fighting to take care of his part of the planet—and an old and valued friendship that he has lost in recent times. 

Withers captures what it is to be estranged from an old friend, even as Hudson makes and values his new friends. It’s almost frustrating to read how he still includes this old friend—Mica—in his thoughts, even as all his efforts seem to be rather one-sided. But he does. And this is a strength of the story; the idea not to give up on someone, despite thoughts in the vein of “Maybe we’ll never find the crack required to reach one another.”

Along with the ‘environment vs friendship’ storyline, there’s another that we are all too familiar with: ‘environment vs economy.’ The fact that both of Hudson’s parents work for the town company deepens his moral and ethical tug-of-war. The cracks in his friendship mirror the cracks appearing in buildings throughout the community, and the smaller sinkholes that speak to the possibility of a repeat performance of the Big One—the one that swallowed the church decades ago. Except this sinkhole will be wholly man-made, by the nefarious tree felling company whose owner seems to have no concern for the future of this town and its people.

There are some interesting answers to “economy” questions this within the text, with characters envisioning a new approach to their work lives; this could elicit interesting class or book group discussion.

But there is also, in the end, the deaths of four individuals. While this speaks to the portrayal of reality, there is the reality of the printed page and the screens everywhere in front of us that remind that, without death, messages do not make themselves heard. It reads as something that must be in the story in order for us to absorb the message; yet what does it mean to lose four people in a small town? Would the story carry less weight without? Would it be enough to have a second serious sinkhole? The plot-line drives its way there, surely, from historic sinkhole to today’s. And it does reflect the reality, the power, of environmental degradation. Stop and ponder could also be a discussion point.

At times the voice is a bit too adult, too much information, too cautionary, perhaps. There’s the occasional not-so-limited with the limited third person viewpoint… but this will be unnoticed when the reader is caught up in the movement and mystery. And the novel most definitely does “caught up” really well. 

And that’s what you want most from a book between the ages of eleven and fourteen.

Alison Acheson is the author of almost a dozen books for all ages, including a memoir of caregiving, Dance Me to the End: Ten Months and Ten Days with ALS (TouchWood, 2019). She writes a newsletter on Substack, The Unschool for Writers, and lives on the East Side of Vancouver. [Editor’s note: Alison has reviewed books by Becky Citra, Paul Yee, Leslie Gentile, Caroline Lavoie, Janice Lynn Mather, Li Charmaine Anne, Linda Demeulemeester, Hanako Masutani, Julie Lawson, George M. Johnson, Janice Lynn Mather, Jacqueline Firkins, Barbara Nickel, and Caroline Adderson for BCR; Blue Hours, her recent novel, was reviewed by Trish Bowering.]

*

The British Columbia Review

Interim Editors, 2023-26: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie

Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.

“Only connect.” –E.M. Forster