Angelfall

“When four of them finally manage to pin him down on the ground, practically sitting on him, Night Giant walks up to him. He stalks like the Angel of Death, which I suppose he could be. I get the distinct impression that this is the culmination of several battles between them. I sense history between them in the way they look at each other, in the way Night yanks at Snow’s wing, spreading it out.”

“Night” in this passage is eventually revealed to be Beliel, not the Angel of Death (who is typically referred to in Judaic, Islamic, and/or Christian mythology as Azrael or Samael). Beliel and Raphael have history in the novel, but in most angel mythologies, Beliel is a far more general figure of Hell, and Raphael is a healing angel of devotion who sometimes is responsible for blowing the trumpets to herald the apocalypse. Their tension could be attributed mythologically to Beliel’s place as one cursed by God and Raphael’s place of honor.

“He is surprisingly light for his size, and it’s far less of a struggle than I’d anticipated to get him into the chair. I suppose it makes sense when you think about it. It’s easier to fly when you weigh fifty pounds rather than five hundred.”

This passage emphasizes some of the realism in how the angels are depicted since a person of human weight could not fly—human wings would have to be over twenty feet wide, and even then, human musculature does not function biologically for flight. Thus, while it is still unrealistic that the angels otherwise resemble humans, hollow bones are one of the most important biological components of effective flight.

“My mother’s condition is not as consistent as some might think. The intensity of her insanity waxes and wanes with no predictable schedule or trigger. Of course, it doesn’t help that she’s off her meds. When it’s good, people might not guess there’s anything wrong with her. Those are the days when the guilt of my anger and frustration toward her eats away at me. When it’s bad, I might walk out of my room to find a dead-man-turned-toy on the floor.”

The novel swings back and forth between presenting Penryn’s mother sympathetically and portraying her as abusive. The language Penryn uses to describe her mother highlights her frustration. She consistently uses words like “insane” and “crazy”—which those with mental disorders typically treat as slurs—to describe her, presenting her mother as inhuman for her condition. While people with schizophrenia can pose a risk to others, the vast majority never engage in violent behavior.

“If we had been back in the old world, in the World Before, I would have called an ambulance despite the fact that he had attacked my mom. The doctors would have fixed him up, and he would have had all the time he needed to recover in jail. But unfortunately for all of us, this is the World After. I step around him and leave him to his slow death.”

This passage emphasizes the suspension of ordinary ethics in this postapocalyptic world. Despite her caring nature, Penryn adapts easily to the brutal new reality and is not conscious of being haunted by letting people die or even, later, killing them herself.

“If I was good at marketing, I’d spin you an empty story that sounds profound. But the truth is that we’re all just stumbling around in the dark. Sometimes we hit something terrible.”

This passage forms a thematic core of the book: the oscillation between hope and despair that comes from not knowing the future. The angels and the humans both lack purpose and understanding of how to approach the world, but neither group realizes that the problem is mutual. Raffe’s negativity is balanced Penryn’s positivity, and occasionally, vice versa, presenting them as foils to one another both in characterization and in theme.

“I catch myself humming what I thought was a meaningless tune. I stop when I realize it’s my mother’s apology song.”

Penryn’s fraught relationship with her mother is a key part of the novel. Her mother haunts her even when she is not on the page—Penryn is afraid of turning into her and dislikes her so much that she discourages her from being around, even if she wants her to be safe. This passage emphasizes this tension, showing Penryn’s inescapable connections to, and fear of, her mother.

“Somehow, my thoughts drift to how he held me during the night, when I dreamed I was freezing in the water. My imagination has me waking up on that couch and turning to face him. He’s so close that his breath feathers my cheek as I turn.”

The diction choice of “feathers” reemphasizes the difference between human and angel, even in this imagined, intimate moment between Penryn and Raffe. Even Penryn’s subconscious language reminds her that Raffe is inhuman, but the tenderness of this scene marks a turning point as she begins to accept the differences between them.

“But a closer look shows that the buildings are actually fine. They only look dilapidated because there are branches leaning against the buildings and woven in a net above the compound. The branches are carefully placed so that they look like they fell naturally. I bet from above it looks just like the rest of the forest.”

This passage emphasizes the ingenuity of humans and uses description to develop a post-angel world. While disguising the buildings is not unusual, Penryn specifically notes that they have disguised it to avoid notice from above—something that might not ordinarily matter, except, perhaps, from planes. This shows how quickly and easily human beings can adapt to new situations and demands from new environments.

“I’m tempted to make a quip about requiring dinner and a movie before getting so kinky, but I don’t. The last thing I need is to start making sex jokes while I’m being held prisoner in a camp full of armed men in a world where there are no laws.”

Penryn is consumed by unequal power dynamics between genders, which seem to have regressed sharply in the post-apocalyptic world since suddenly women all seem to do laundry and men work as soldiers. This passage uses humor to emphasize the danger Penryn must grapple with as a teenaged girl in a patriarchal society. Her fear is proven right later, when she is sexually harassed by a man who claims that in this environment, there is nothing to stop him from behaving as he does.

“I love the idea of a leader destined to lead us out of our dark times. Love the romance of being part of something good, and right, led by a group of people fated to be heroes. Only, it isn’t my fight. My fight is getting my sister back safe and sound.”

This passage attempts to circumvent any illusions that Penryn is a hero figure—while she might be a hero to Paige, she is almost comically determined to avoid the bigger picture. On a more metatextual level, this passage reminds the reader that this book is not about restoring the world to its pre-apocalyptic condition. Instead, Penryn’s goal is simply to survive and adapt to the world as it is now.

“‘Sorry no one explained the rules of the playground to you.’ He bandages my bleeding elbow. ‘It’s just that we haven’t had a female get into a fight before.’”

The use of “female” in this passage to describe women emphasizes the sexism and patriarchy apparently rampant in post-apocalyptic California. Obi has no reason to call Penryn a “female”—typically considered a dismissive and rude way to refer to women—which shows how much he benefits from the social structure among the rebels. He can be kind to Penryn, but ultimately, he doesn’t respect women much more than many of the others.

“Everything about the survivors looks freaky spooked, as though the only thing containing their panic is their paralyzing fear. Their white-knuckled grips on their rifles; the way they hold their elbows tight near their bodies as if to keep their arms from shaking; the way they move shoulder to shoulder, like a school of fish clustering near a predator.”

The diction in this passage emphasizes the way fear reduces human beings to an animalistic state. By using a simile to compare them to fish, Penryn creates an image of the survivors as less than human, which in turn makes the object of their fear—the demonic cannibal cherubs—into something supernaturally terrifying. This creates a tone of horror that only intensifies as the book progresses.

“After hours of trudging through the woods in the dark, I start to wonder if maybe Raffe is a fallen angel leading me into Hell. Maybe when we finally reach the aerie, I’ll realize it’s actually underground in a cave filled with fire and sulfur, with people skewered and roasting. It would explain a few things, anyway.”

Penryn’s imagery reflects a popular image of Hell—that of a fiery lake and eternal damnation—which achieved a place in the Western imagination through Dante’s Inferno. This passage also includes irony since the hellish torture of the angels makes it hard for Penryn to believe they could live in anything except the underworld.

“A part of me worries about her, a part of me is glad to be free of her, and all of me feels guilty for not taking better care of her. She’s like a wounded feral cat. No one can truly take care of her without locking her in a cage. She would hate that, and so would I. I hope she’s managed to stay far away from people. Both for her sake and theirs.”

Penryn uses a simile to describe her mother’s constant dehumanization throughout the narrative. She says that she hopes her mother stays far away “from people,” rather than “from other people,” suggesting that she does not see her mother—who has physically abused her and her sister—as a person. While her mother certainly needs help, the narrative consistently discounts ability to contribute to society and to others, instead portraying her as a burden and a danger.

“A group of angels called the Watchers were stationed on Earth to observe the humans. Over time, they got lonely and took human wives, knowing they shouldn’t. Their children were called Nephilim. And they were abominations. They fed on humans, drank their blood, and terrorized the earth. For that, the Watchers were condemned to the Pit until Judgement Day.”

The Nephilim are scarcely mentioned in the traditional Pentateuch, or first five books of the Bible—references include Genesis 6:1-4 and Numbers 13:32-33. Their descriptions are inconsistent, but they are typically described as powerful warriors if not supernatural beings. Descriptions of them as fallen angels or children of angels come from the Book of Enoch, which has become the popular modern view, especially in postapocalyptic literature. Thus, Raffe’s description of the Nephilim creates a pastiche of biblical mythologies.

“As we near the crowd, I can see more details. Several of the angels going into the club are in old-fashioned gangster zoot suits complete with felt hats and jaunty feathers. Long watch chains drape to their knees.”

The 1920s description of the angels, while sometimes humorous, also creates an image of them as selfish hedonists. Regardless of accuracy, the popular image of the 1920s is the Roaring ’20s, which, in books like The Great Gatsby, involves people with no concern for others and a deep, almost dangerous desire for pleasure. This characterizes the angels as very human, but only in the most superficial ways.

“His face is so close to mine our breaths mingle. Yet he’s far away from me in a place where he’s buffeted by emotions deep and unkind. Whatever he’s feeling, it’s very human. I have this strong compulsion to try and pull him out of this mood, to try to distract him.”

This passage is the first time Penryn truly realizes that Raffe is capable of humanity and human emotions, but these emotions are not ennobling—rather, they are “deep and unkind.” Penry’s desire to free him from these emotions shows that she does like Raffe for the angel he is. The intimacy of this moment both physically and emotionally helps cement their interest in one another.

“I take another look at the smiling angel but see nothing but friendliness and sincerity. If I hadn’t noticed the women’s reactions to him, I would have thought he was best friend material. In a world where instincts matter more than ever, there’s something very wrong about not being able to directly detect the person that these women know him to be.”

Much of the narrative depends on Penryn’s ability to read and interpret others. This passage also shows the gender divide the angels themselves have created, reflective of the human world’s similar division of power. The terror of the women shows that they have no power around the definitively male figure of Uriel. There are few female-presenting angels for a reason—in this world, women are objects, not people with agency or power.

“They sound like Nephilim. They eat like Nephilim. They terrorize like Nephilim. You and the Watchers are the only ones alive who know what they’re supposed to look like. And you’re not exactly credible witnesses.”

This passage hints at a unique piece of the worldbuilding—time does seem to exist for the angels, as many of them were not present when the Nephilim were present, for unexplained reasons. Raffe is much older than angels like Josiah, which gives him power, but also makes him a bigger threat to the social structure of the aerie. While many questions are left unanswered, this passage suggests that the angels are not as monolithic as one might believe.

“For all anyone knows, these angels could just be an alien species from another world trying to trick us into giving up without much of a fight. I don’t know, and I expect I’ll never know about God, angels, or most of life’s questions. And I’ve accepted that. But now, I’ve found an agnostic angel.”

This novel never clarifies why the angels are pursuing violence and the end of the world in the way they are, but in many ways, this passage argues that it doesn’t matter. Whether God exists and commands the angels or not, the angels are still harming humans, and the humans are still retaliating. Raffe’s agnostic beliefs emphasizes the theme of independence and individuality in the book—even though unity is important, understanding one’s own desires and beliefs is foundational, too.

“I hate it when she does that. There’s nothing more humiliating than being smacked by your crazy mother in front of your friends.”

This brief quote characterizes Penryn’s casual approach to her mother’s treatment of her—she is so accustomed to being physically assaulted that she feels humiliation rather than pain, disbelief, or rejection. Her mother’s treatment is almost brushed off, but Dee/Dum’s horrified reaction serves as a necessary counterpoint to Penryn’s numbed sense of what she deserves.

“Most of them have additional stitch marks along their arms, legs, and throats. A few have stitches across their faces. Some of the kids’ eyes are wide open, others closed. Some of their eyes have yellow or red instead of white around the irises. Some only have gaping holes where the eyes used to be, and others have their eyes sewn shut with big, clumsy stitches.”

This passage’s imagery sharply veers into horror, transforming ordinary children into stitched dolls, subject to horrific experiments. In many ways, the laboratory is “Hell,” and the angels’ participation in the abuses of human children condemns them much more strongly than any of their prior actions do.

“Hope shrivels and dies inside me, leaving a hard lump where my heart should be. I don’t need to ask who ‘they’ are. According to my mother, ‘they’ have been after us for as long as I can remember. Her protective statement is not a step toward taking responsibility for her girls. I nod, taking the weight of my family responsibilities back on my shoulders.”

Penryn experiences little relief from her duties as “parent” throughout the book. This passage uses contrast to emphasize the burden this puts on her; her temporary relief prior to this paragraph at the implication her mother might take responsibility shows how badly she wishes to be a child again. While perhaps not fair, given that her mother has a mental illness and cannot access treatment in this post-apocalyptic world, this passage emphasizes that both realities can be true—Penryn can want to be a child with a mother who can care for her, and her mother can deserve compassion and care for her condition, too. The apocalypse, however, complicates both.