The Seed
Florence Kiss
214 pages
NZ$21.95 incl. postage
US$24.95 incl. postage overseas
The Seed is the first and only English edition of Florence Kiss’s prize-winning French novel ‘Seuls’.
When the lights go out and the world ceases to exist after thermonuclear war – when all order breaks down and the last remnants of the human race mutate into unrecognisable creatures, half-man, half-beast – what, if anything, can survive?
In the flick of an eye while the southern hemisphere sleeps and the northern half is watching ‘One Man Too Many’, the favourite TV show on the planet, the Earth becomes an eternal reminder of Man’s sin. Its vanished cities, evaporated seas and irradiated fauna and flora cover the petrified surface with a carpet of ashes. Living and material humanity melt into the ground that once sheltered life.
What will be the meaning of life in this emptiness, in a world that has retrieved its primal nudity, its original darkness? A world like the handful of survivors left – desolate at still being alive without love, beauty, food or drink to sustain them... until one survivor unearths the seed.
In this unique, prize-winning novel for the 21st Century, Florence Kiss issues an astonishing wake-up call which nevertheless leaves space for hope.
Excerpt...
He observed it for a long time, undecided whether to grab it or not. He was certain that this seed contained their salvation, that it would calm their hunger, maybe even their thirst, but he had the feeling that it had other powers. He had learned with time that nothing was perfect. He had a foreboding that this germ – miraculously born from burnt soil, and on which they would become dependent not only to survive but also to avoid suffering – had a latent defect. This worried him, but did they have a choice?
He took the seed, its whiteness strangely contrasted with the soil. He felt and lifted it to his nostrils. It had no odour. He pierced it with his nail. It opened without resistance, containing a greyish powder.
“There! He has regained consciousness. We should give him something to drink,” said Beinstein to Andropov.
The bishop came closer, spilling the powder onto the patient’s tongue. The latter winced, mumbled a few incomprehensible words and fell sound asleep.
‘What did you give him?” asked Beinstein.
Peres forced himself to keep calm. He had the feeling his thoughts were being broadcast live.
“A seed,” he said, avoiding Beinstein’s eyes.
“A seed... You gave him a seed?” said Beinstein, astounded. “Where did you find it?”
There!”
The bishop pointed at a cavity that the man had dug, and stood mute with amazement.
“Good gracious, that’s incredible! There’s another one.”
He took and observed it; it was identical. They scrutinised the ground, waiting for another seed to germinate from its depths, but in vain. The Earth was not willing to disclose her secret.
