_End of the World House_ is the third novel I’ve read by Adrienne Celt. The first was, _Invitation to a Bonfire_ which is set in the 1920’s about a young Russian refugee in America. The second, _The Daughters_, is about an opera singer trying to extricate herself from a family curse, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this one. Set in the near future, _End of the World House_ is both science fiction and relationship allegory. It feels more autobiographical than the other two, but I feel the author put a lot of herself into all three novels.

Bertie is the main character. She is a thirty-something very successful illustrator for a very large marketing firm in San Francisco. Kate has been Bertie’s friend since high school. The two went their separate ways back then but have since reconnected and are closer than ever. Dylan is a boy that Bertie kissed back in high school who mysteriously comes back into her life.

The story opens with Bertie and Kate on vacation in Paris. Just before the trip Kate told Bertie that she is relocating to Los Angeles. Bertie is stressed out about it but tries not to blow up with her disappointment. One night the two women go to a club and meet a staffer at the Louvre who tells them he can get them into the museum after hours to have a private viewing of all of the masterpieces. Who can resist? The two follow the instructions and find themselves enjoying their luck – but not really, as the tension between the two about Kate’s moving away overrides it. After a few explosive words between them, Kate walks off into the cavernous structure – and disappears. That’s where things start to get rolling off of their hinges.

Within the story are flashbacks galore surrounding high school, interactions with romantic maybes, Bertie’s parents, friendship experiences between Bertie and Kate, and career trajectories. After things go wonky, there are ongoing frantic ruminations by Bertie with trying to figure out what the f*** is going on.

The time setting, as mentioned before, is the near-future, where fossil fuels are exhausted, rationing of most things is standard practice, public transportation is the norm for people, and the reigning minority population has become the social media engineers who shape our thoughts, dreams, and attitudes towards the end of the world. They live in their privileged bubbles enjoying “luxuries” like bottled water, banquets with every delicacy, and a workplace that feeds them three meals a day.

One thing all three books have is a surreal quality to them, almost as if one is looking at the world through a fish eye lens. _End of the World House_ adds an element of, “Groundhog Day” to it that can feel disorienting, and I believe that is the effect that the author is going for. Released in April of 2022, the book casts a fun house mirror reflection upon what has been going on since COVID and its ripples turned the world topsy turvy.

I enjoyed reading the book, no matter how uncomfortable it made me at times with confusion and disorientation. I would recommend the book and look forward to reading whatever Adrienne Celt writes next.

Rating: 4/5

Quotes from End of the World House by Adrienne Celt

Both of them dated a lot, though unsuccessfully, choosing the solace of easy sex over the ontological work of rearranging their lives for relationships.

You never know why not, before it happens. That’s what Bertie realized. Time passes. Slow, then fast. Bit by bit, and then it’s gone.

Kate wore a black silk blouse with puff sleeves, a crepe dress with gold sundials all over it, a pair of shoes that were hot pink with two-inch soles which made her look like a delivery girl for a demigod, blessed with feet that could go the distance.

She and Kate had wanted to see the things everyone else saw, too, but with their own eyes. That was how art, how anything, became immortal. Becoming a still point in the universe, around which endless bodies revolved.

Her morning thoughts were frequently on the darker side, given as she was to holding over the remnants of forgotten dreams.

She had once sworn she’d never stop being moved by all the terrible headlines, but there were so many of them, they became normal no matter what you did – the sensation of struggling against bad normalcy as familiar to Bertie, now, as breathing.

Why had she ever wanted to come here? To see art. To see someone else’s inspiration, but in its worst, its least natural form. The point being not that it was beautiful, but that it was chosen.