In the bunker, getting by
The Firmament
by Adam Parker
Middletown: Alien Buddha Press, 2025
$16.99 / 97898287359348
Reviewed by Zoe McKenna
*
The Firmament opens with the protagonist, John, building a brick wall to seal himself into his room. Layer by layer, John blocks the only doorway, and soon he is well and truly trapped.
John’s suite is unremarkable, fitted with only the bare essentials—save for a “man-sized matter disintegration machine” tucked into the corner.
John is ill at ease, but not because of his self-confinement. He’s twitchy and nervous, and talks aloud to himself as he writes a manuscript by hand, capturing the events leading to this moment. This literary process takes a long time, though how long isn’t clear, “maybe hours, maybe days.” John’s writing is feverish. He barely stops to eat, drink, or relieve himself, pausing only when he thinks he hears sounds from the other side of the wall.
Just as he wraps up the final words of his manuscript, the ruckus of hammers begins as an attempt is made to break through the walled doorway. As the bricks start to crumble, John eyes the matter disintegration machine, and realizes it’s his only way out.
The Firmament is the first book by Adam Parker, a sci-fi, fantasy, and horror writer who resides in Vancouver. He’s also contributed to magazines such as Mobius Blvd: Stories from the Byway Between Reality and Dream and Books and Pieces Magazine.
Parker’s novella is surrealist and bizarre. Told in reverse chronological order, the narrative begins with John’s unorthodox prison in the first chapter, then unwinds to explore his life in the hermetically sealed bunker that’s his residence.
As the strange and violent opening may suggest, the story and setting are bleak and off-putting.
The bunker is a cheerless, dungeon-like place marked by “long dank corridors,” “concrete,” “grime,” and “rust.” Hallways branch endlessly, peppered with countless doors. At times, John feels like a rat in a maze, seemingly always exploring but rarely reaching anywhere meaningful or new. (That said, if short-tempered John were a rat, he would certainly be one with a nasty bite, as he bristles with aggression in almost every encounter with other characters.)
In stark contrast to the setting, John’s interactions with other characters are often uncannily familiar. He has spats with colleagues at a dissatisfying staff pizza party (albeit, in real life, these don’t usually end in food fights), awkwardly converses with his crush, Colleen, and pesters the janitor with unwieldy stories while the poor man “is just trying to mop.” Sometimes, Parker helps solidify these familiar moments even further by mentioning real-world locations, such as Parksville’s Rathtrevor Beach.
These moments of realism become essential anchors as the novella unfolds. It soon becomes clear that John is not the most stable of narrators. The narrative becomes, at best, hallucinatory. There’s often little to no indication as to what is actual and what is happening within John’s mind. Often, whether events on the page are genuine or imaginary could come down to a matter of opinion or perspective. This loose grasp on any sense of certainty is only heightened by the novel’s reverse chronology. Surprisingly, knowing where the story ends does not bring any clarity to the events that lead us there.
In concept, The Firmament has potential. The dire bunker community (if one could call it that) and liminal narrative Parker creates is so unsettling that many horror or dystopian sci-fi readers would likely enjoy leaning in to learn more. Themes of violence, guilt, authority, community, and alienation are woven throughout and are ripe for dissection.
Unfortunately, in many ways, The Firmament is under-realized. There are broad swaths of conversation or action that are glossed over in a sentence or two. If this occurred once or twice within the book, it could be seen as a narrative device used to keep readers guessing or a nod to John’s imperfect recollection of events. Instead, it happens so often that the novella feels more like an overview or outline for a broader story. There are many instances where the most exciting or interesting interactions are frustratingly “told” rather than “shown.” In a narrative where the distinction between truth and illusion is so fragile, and yet so integral to the narrative, a thoughtful attention to detail is more important than ever. This, paired with spelling and punctuation errors that begin on the first page and do not cease throughout the story, leaves The Firmament feeling a little rough around the edges.
Ultimately, The Firmament is a promising concept that has plenty to offer in terms of intriguing ideas, compelling settings, and food for thought. With a bit more time in the oven, it would have the makings of something truly memorable.
*
Zoe McKenna received a MA from the UVic and a BA from VIU. Her research focuses on horror writing, with a focus on stories by women. She was the Assistant Editor of That Witch Whispers and her writing has also appeared in Black Cat, Malahat Review, and Quill & Quire. When not at her desk, Zoe can be found haunting local bookstores and hiking trails. Zoe gratefully acknowledges that she is a guest on the traditional territory of the Puneluxutth (Penelakut) Tribe and the hul’qumi’num speaking peoples. Find her on Twitter. [Editor’s note: Zoe McKenna’s recent reviews for BCR include Emily Paxman, Guojing, Deni Ellis Béchard, W.K. Shephard, Ron Prasad, Peter Darbyshire, Richard Van Camp, Nalo Hopkinson, Marcus Kliewer, Ivana Filipovich, Giselle Vriesen, and Scott Alexander.]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction, kids lit, 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.
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