Survive the Dome: A Frustrating Journey Through Baltimore’s Struggles
When I first stumbled upon Survive the Dome by M.L. Jin, I felt a rush of excitement. The premise was just too compelling to resist: a science fiction thriller set in a quarantined Baltimore during a Black Lives Matter protest. The potential for a story that dives deep into societal issues while dangling that sci-fi allure? Count me in! Unfortunately, what I hoped would be an exhilarating ride turned out to be a disheartening DNF (Did Not Finish) experience.
The core of the novel revolves around three characters trapped in a dome, scrambling to escape while grappling with trust and urgency. However, what initially seemed like a gripping plot devolved into a shallow narrative filled with heavy-handed commentary masquerading as world-building. The pacing felt frenetic, but not in the adrenaline-fueled way you’d expect from a crisis story. Instead, it was more of a monotonous race through repetitive thoughts and dialogue, leaving me disinterested rather than captivated.
One of the most jarring aspects of reading this book was the writing style. The first-person present tense combined with a stream-of-consciousness technique made it exceedingly difficult for me to relax into the narrative. It felt as though I was bombarded with rhetorical questions every other paragraph, each one interrupting the flow and making me feel interrogated instead of invited into the story. Jin’s voice lacks the subtlety that could have added depth—moments intended for commentary instead became exhaustive lectures. Imagine cramming a thought-provoking essay into a narrative framework; the result is a missed opportunity to explore Baltimore’s setting in a meaningful way.
Characters like Jamal, who was introduced as a budding journalist, left much to be desired. His identity felt thinly veiled beneath a flurry of self-aggrandizing thoughts, and the relationships he formed, particularly with the hacker Marco, were rushed and unbelievable. I struggled to inhabit Jamal’s mind, where his constant flip-flopping on trust felt more tedious than thought-provoking. Rather than developing characters, we’re given archetypes—each flat and predictable, moving through a plot that feels equally devoid of life.
As I read through the pages, I couldn’t help but marvel at the missed opportunities for a robust narrative. The backdrop of a domed Baltimore teeming with social commentary had so much promise. Instead, I encountered recycled phrases, typos, and confusion on who was saying what due to editing oversights.
By the time I reached page 148 of 326, the disillusionment was too great. Life is, indeed, too short for unbearable reads. While I can appreciate a novel that tries to engage with pressing societal issues, it needs to blend them effectively into a compelling story. While Survive the Dome might resonate with readers who prioritize unfiltered commentary over narrative cohesion, I found myself yearning for a story crafted with clearer intuition and depth.
In the end, if you’re someone who can appreciate a book that leans heavily into earnest social critique without the need for a nuanced narrative—or you’re simply drawn to the sci-fi elements—it might be worth a try. But for those who, like me, find joy in rich storytelling, this one may not offer the satisfaction you seek.