Arrows of Desire

It's the year 3000 A.D., about 700 years after nuclear devastation - and the British isles are now a near-uninhabited wilderness, a minor province of the Euro-African Federation. In the English forests, however, descendants of a few British survivors live on in bucolic, tribal simplicity, cheerily led by Humphrey of Middlesex. Meanwhile, the Federation has permitted some English "immigrants" - African-born descendants of bygone fugitives from radioactive Britain - to establish a "resettlement" colony at Avebury (under Federation rule). And this slight, quasi-Shavian fantasy takes an avuncular look at the ensuing conflicts among the three cultures involved: the North African rulers, the laid-back natives, and the ambitious new settlers. As the story begins, the neo-British settlers are simmering with newfound nationalism and anti-Federation rebellion. Young settler Silvia Brown attempts to assassinate the Federation's well-meaning High Commissioner, a muddled liberal called Ali Praetorius; her arrest leads, via wild rumor-mongering, to an all-out uprising, which is quickly (and bloodily) put down; Silvia's father (an innocent-bystander sort) flees into the forest, taking refuge with Humphrey of Middlesex's nature-loving, nonpolitical, old-British clan. Thus, Humphrey is forced to take an interest in the settlers' rebellion (which he'd prefer to ignore). And, together with the High Commissioner's comely daughter (who is fascinated by the old-English culture), Humphrey manages to bring the settlers around to his sort of Englishness: "Patriotism? Government? What do they matter to us, the last few British?. . .Let us be free to love and we want no other freedom. . . Will you die for the sake of the bare western downs folded around the sheep? Yes, I will. Don't ask me the logic of it - there is none. Do you believe that in the days of their greatness the British ever cared for trade, for towns, for power?" As in other recent novels (The Sending, Summon the Bright Water), suspense veteran Household shows a weakness here for sentimental mysticism and fuzzy philosophy. Few readers will be convinced by his tribute to the true British character. But this fable is short and light enough to keep portentousness at bay - so connoisseurs of English quaintness may find this a modestly diverting mini-serving of pastoral charm, futurist satire (with the usual anachronism-giggles), and informal political essay. (Kirkus Reviews)