AVA

In Dillon’s future-set novel, a scientist’s reproductive experiment impacts two generations of a family.

Getting tear-gassed at a protest brings University of Tennessee students Larkin and Spencer together. Though pursuing different interests (Larkin’s passionate about science, Spencer plans to become an actuary), they fall in love and marry. Larkin decides to keep her baby when she accidentally gets pregnant, but learning the infant has anencephaly and will be born without a skull or brain changes her mind. However, in 2032, women are barred from receiving abortions in Tennessee and can’t legally obtain one in other states either. Larkin gives birth to a doomed baby, leading to emotional trauma and funeral debts. Inspired by his own mother’s untimely death shortly after his birth, Larkin’s employer, Dr. Davis, has searched for a way to simplify the birth process, wondering, “What if women could lay eggs like a chicken does?” After he adds a gene for avian reproductive organs to a human cell line, Larkin, his first test subject, agrees to reproduce again. The end product, Ava, seems like other kids, but, in her adolescence, complications loom. Learning of her genetic makeup, she feels freakish, and she discovers that too much sun exposure can trigger her own egg production. Does she have an advantage, or a disability? Dillon’s novel uniquely explores the idea of women’s bodily autonomy. Social commentary, genetics, and SF speculation come together in a narrative distinguished by the author’s humor. The offbeat and memorable characters are well developed; science-nerd Larkin is excited by supernumerary nipples (“Harry Styles has two extra ones!”) while Spencer names their chickens after 1970s songs. Even their baby, Maeve, who lives mere hours, makes a vivid impression. The future setting is heavily politicized: In 2041, a Tennessee senator works to get abortions nationally banned, and women can’t access birth control, progesterone, or estrogen, but Viagra is readily available. Though the novel has an optimistic tone, it also leaves a chill—the clampdown Dillon describes reads as disturbingly relevant.

A well-crafted SF yarn that raises provocative questions.