Eve: A Novel, by WM. Paul Young
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Eve: A Novel, by WM. Paul Young
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From the author of the twenty-five-million-copy bestseller The Shack comes a captivating new novel destined to be one of the most talked-about books of the decade.Eve is a bold, unprecedented exploration of the Creation narrative, true to the original texts and centuries of scholarship—yet with breathtaking discoveries that challenge traditional beliefs about who we are and how we’re made. Eve opens a refreshing conversation about the equality of men and women within the context of our beginnings, helping us see each other as our Creator does—complete, unique, and not constrained by cultural rules or limitations. When a shipping container washes ashore on an island between our world and the next, John the Collector finds a young woman inside—broken, frozen, and barely alive. With the aid of Healers and Scholars, John oversees her recovery and soon discovers that her genetic code connects her to every known race. No one would guess what her survival will mean… No one but Eve, Mother of the Living, who calls her “daughter” and invites her to witness the truth about her own story—indeed, the truth about us all. As The Shack awakened readers to a personal, non-religious understanding of God, Eve will free us from faulty interpretations that have corrupted human relationships since the Garden of Eden. Thoroughly researched and exquisitely written, Eve is a masterpiece that will inspire readers for generations to come.
Eve: A Novel, by WM. Paul Young- Amazon Sales Rank: #31218 in eBooks
- Published on: 2015-09-15
- Released on: 2015-09-15
- Format: Kindle eBook
Review “The writing is stunningly beautiful, offering an evocative, challenging look at our view of God and the Creation narrative. Young’s latest will certainly pique the interest of established fans as well as generate controversy.” (Publishers Weekly)“By turns emotional, inspiring, and filled to overflowing with grace, Eve is exactly the engaging, challenging story you would expect from the author of The Shack. Wm. Paul Young offers a transformative view of God that transcends gender and culture: highly recommended to everyone with Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome--and to any and all who seek the uninhibited Light and Love of our Creator.” (Reba Riley, author of Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome)
About the Author William Paul Young was born in Canada and raised among a Stone Age tribe by his missionary parents in the highlands of former New Guinea. He suffered great loss as a child and young adult and now enjoys the “wastefulness of grace” with his family in the Pacific Northwest. He is the author of New York Times bestsellers, The Shack and Crossroads.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Eve
One
FOUND
Caught in the tidal flows of unspoken morning prayers and simple wonder, John the Collector rested against a tree with his toes burrowed and curled into the coolness beneath the warming sand. Before him, a rippling ocean stretched out until it disappeared, merging into the clear cobalt sky. The salty fragrance of the sea was overtaken by scents of eucalyptus, myrrh, and hagenia flowers. John smiled. These were always her first embrace! Resisting the urge to jump to his feet, he instead shifted to make room, lowered his head, and took a deep breath. It had been a while. The tall, fine-boned, ebony-black woman accepted his silent invitation and settled next to him, her hand tousling the gray-black hair at the back of his neck with the tenderness of a mother toward her child. The playful touch sent a prickling peace through his shoulders and down his back, lifting the burden he unconsciously carried. He could have stayed like this for some time, but there was always purpose to her visits. Even so, he held off his own rising curiosity, preferring the gentle contentment of her company. Reluctantly, he spoke. “Mother Eve?” “John?” Without looking, he knew she was grinning. Ancient and powerful, this woman radiated the contagious joy of a child. With one arm she pulled him to her, kissing the top of his head. “You have been in this place . . . ,” she began. “A hundred years today,” he finished. “If that is the reason for your visit, I am grateful.” “It is in part,” Eve said. “One hundred years anywhere is cause for celebration.” Pulling himself up, he brushed off the sand before helping Eve to her feet. She gracefully accepted his hand, though it wasn’t needed. Coarse white hair formed a woven crown around her face, lined and creased by countless years, a masterpiece of sculpted joy and sorrow. She glowed more like a child than a matriarch, her mahogany eyes lit by expectancy. His questions threatened to tumble out in all directions, but she stopped them with a raised hand. “John, one good question is worth a thousand answers,” she teased. “Choose it carefully.” It only took a moment to form. “How long?” he asked somberly. “How long must we wait before the end, when our healing will finally be complete?” Reaching out, he took her hand and placed it on his heart. “Much sooner, John, than when I first asked that same question.” He took in a deep breath and nodded, looking into the amber light that flecked her eyes. “But I am here about today, John. Today, my child will be born into your world.” John frowned. “Your child? But Mother Eve, are we not each your daughter or your son?” “Yes, you are,” she declared. “But we have long known there would be three in particular who would stand and represent us all. The one to whom was given the promise of the seed, the one whose seed would crush the serpent’s head, and the one to whom the seed would be forever united. The Mother, the Daughter, the Bride. The arrival of this girl marks the beginning of the end.” So stunned, he hardly noticed Eve pick up a stone and walk toward the water’s edge. John followed, disoriented and overwhelmed. She launched the stone high into the air, and they both watched it zip down into the glassy sea with hardly a splash. “John,” Eve said, “in the ocean of the universe, a single stone and ripple changes it forever.” John let the small incoming waves tickle his feet and tug at the sand beneath them. To be near Eve was always healing and always disconcerting. A shrill voice sliced the air. “You’re dawdling, John.” He turned. A breeze off the water lifted the hair at the back of his head, even as Eve’s perfumes caressed his face. Letty had arrived, and Eve was gone. John sighed. “The Scavengers have been calling for you for longer than an hour, and since you are the only Collector within a hundred miles . . .” Turning back to the water, John selected another smooth stone and threw it high into the air so it would drift on its edge and slice into the water’s surface with a satisfying sound. Why such a tiny success always pleased him was a mystery. “What’s their hurry?” he muttered, as Letty arrived at his side. He picked up another stone. She was a bundle of a little old woman, barely three feet tall, with a cane and shawl and mismatched socks folded over mismatched shoes. She looked like an apple that had been left in the hot sun for too long, still round but shriveled up, with piercing black eyes, a crooked nose, and an almost toothless scowl. Her walking stick could have easily passed for a wand of sorts, and it was pointing right at him. When he saw the intensity on her face, he let the rock fall to the sand. “Letty?” Her words were measured. “A large metal container was spotted floating early this morning, hauled ashore, and opened. The Scholars have already ascertained that it drifted here from Earth in real time.” “That’s happened before,” suggested John. “We opened it up and found the remains of twelve human beings, all young females except one.” “Jesus,” he mumbled, as much a prayer as an exclamation. “The container seems to have been used to transport people great distances, probably on a large vessel or ship. Since no flotsam drifted with it, we surmise it was purposefully jettisoned, but not before the girls inside were executed. If there is any mercy in such a tragedy . . .” Her voice hesitated as emotion found its way. John turned and slumped onto the sand, drawing his knees up to his chin. The warmth of the day and gentle breeze now seemed a mockery. Eve’s joy had left with her. He felt Letty’s tiny hand rest on his shoulder as he fought his rising rage and grief. “John, we cannot allow the shadow-sickness to find a place inside our hearts. In this broken cosmos we grieve. We rightly feel fury, but we must not let go of joy’s embrace, which is beyond our understanding. To feel all of this means that we are alive.” He nodded. “You said the humans were female, except one?” “Yes, there was also a middle-aged man. The shared initial view is that he may have been trying to protect the girls. There is a story, I’m sure, but we might have to wait a long time to hear it fully.” “I don’t want to see—” “Don’t worry. The bodies have been transported to the Sanctuary of Sorrows and are being prepared for tomorrow’s celebration of fire. Right now, you must do what only you can do . . . so the Scavengers can dismantle and the Artists can find ways to memorialize these precious children.” John closed his eyes and turned his face to the sky, wishing his conversation with Eve had not been so unbearably interrupted. “Go on,” Letty encouraged. “The others are waiting.” • • • THE SIZE OF THE container surprised John. At least thirty feet in length, its sheer weight had required a dozen of the Haulers’ beasts to drag it out of the water over rolling logs. Deep ruts were clearly visible behind the box on the cove’s sandy shore. Tents held tables piled high with its contents: clothing, blankets, and a few stuffed toys. It was colder here, as if the sun itself had turned its warming face away. From a pocket he took out a small case, opened it, and slipped a ring on his finger. He then turned the edge so that the impress changed. Anything he touched with this ring would bear a date mark and later be taken to his home, the Refuge, where it would be stored for analysis and reference. From his other pocket he took a pair of thin gloves and pulled them on. The first item that drew his attention was a three-drawer, black, locked file cabinet, which he marked. It was cold to the touch. He waved over a Crafter, a woman with skills for locks and keys, and it took her only a few seconds to open it, leaving John to the contents. It was what he had expected: files of records and information, shipments, and bills of lading, accounting, and various other reports. The bottom drawer held folders documenting the girls’ scant personal information, including a facial photograph of each. Height, weight, age, health. The names were obviously aliases, each an earthly country beginning with sequential letters of the alphabet: Algeria, Bolivia, Canada, and down to Lebanon. He paused for a moment to stare at the images. The faces and eyes in the photos were windows into twelve stories that deserved a proper grieving. John was about to shut the drawer and move on when a thought crossed his mind. He counted the folders. Twelve, just as Letty had said. But that was wrong. Her number had included the man. He counted again. Twelve photos, all girls, all young. It meant a girl was missing. Perhaps she had escaped or the records were inaccurate, but the discrepancy nagged at the edges of his thinking and wouldn’t let him go. Had Eve been referring to one of these? On a hunch he walked a few feet over to the container itself. A row of boots for the workers was lined up near the doors, protective footwear that would later be thoroughly cleaned and decontaminated. He picked a pair his size. An Engineer greeted him, “Hey, John. Terrible tragedy, all this.” He nodded as he laced up his boots. “I want to go inside for just a moment and check something against these records. Anything I should know?” “No, there are still odds and ends to go through, but we’ve already removed what’s most important.” John nodded sadly, acknowledging the man’s kindness. “Also, we just turned off the refrigeration unit. It’s still freezing in there. Probably got damaged and stuck in the cold cycle, which was a blessing I suppose. The bodies were almost frozen. Be careful, it’s pretty slick.” The doors opened easily, groaning on their hinges, letting the sunlight spill inward. Internal lighting flickered on, indicating some sort of closed battery system separate from the refrigeration. He realized as he stepped in that he had been holding his breath. When he let it go through gritted teeth, his exhaling vapor drifted up and around him. The hold was about a third full of larger items—boxes, mats, plastic containers—along with litter and bits and pieces of trash, a hodgepodge he would have to go through at some point. Frozen bloodstains were scattered around the metallic tomb, the walls, the floor. Carefully, he stepped around these, every sound he made reverberating in the stillness. At the far end he could see the refrigeration fan now silent and unmoving, a thin layer of ice already forming on the blades. A quick survey almost satisfied him that there was no place left that could hide a missing girl. But an anomaly caught his eye. At the end of the wall near the cooling unit was a welded metallic frame jutting out about a foot and a half. He cautiously made his way back and examined it closely. Under the bottom were hinges, and when he ran his fingers along the top, he found two large clamps. John knew that if he undid them, the entire thing would open down and out. A sleeping area, like a bunk or tabletop perhaps? Maybe for a guard? He hesitated. Then he blew on his hands and unsnapped the clasps, which released with a hollow clack. As he lowered the metal wall, the frosted steel bit into his palms and fingers through the thin gloves. It was heavy and he had to use a shoulder to let it down until chains at either end unraveled their lengths. It stopped a couple feet from the floor, level and sturdy. That is where he found her. The teenaged girl was broken inside this space. Someone had forced it shut and she had not fit. She could have been peacefully asleep, her limbs at odd angles, her head folded down on her chest, were it not for the cuts and gashes that began to ooze with the release of pressure. One foot was almost severed. As she lay there frozen, he stood staring, stuck in time. John turned and walked out, too sickened to avoid the blood this time. He needed to fetch those trained to deal with such things. “I found another girl!” he yelled, setting off a flurry of activity that rushed past him and into the container. Outside, he unlaced the boots and took them off, walked back to the tent where he had marked the cabinet, sat down, and leaned against it. “God, how is it that You still love us?” he whispered. He paused and glanced in the direction of the container. “Please, grant to her Your peace,” he prayed. Another explosion of activity and shouting brought him to his feet. A Hauler friend burst into the tent and hugged him. “John! That girl you found! She is still alive! Barely, but alive!” The man beamed and hugged him a second time. “You’re a Finder now, John!” the Hauler yelled as he left. “Who would have imagined?” John dropped his head into his hands, feeling numb. If this was Eve’s child, it was a sorrowful and wrenching birth, in blood and water. What good could come of such evil?
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56 of 61 people found the following review helpful. Praise for Eve By The Book Blogger The story begins when Lilly Fields, a young girl we can assume is a teen- is washed ashore to a place and time as the only survivor and John the Collector finds her in a box, body broken and barely alive. John has been having conversations with Eve- yes, "the" Eve. Adam’s Eve. Lilly also has conversations with Eve but John and the others do not know this. Lilly is a broken, damaged, confused woman, but what is God’s final verdict on the matter? And what is so important that Eve must tell Lilly? And what truly happened in the garden of Eden?In classic WM. Paul Young fashion, he writes with artistry and intelligence.What I want to talk about are the implications of the story and the characters.I think that Young is implying that we have our theology mixed up with traditionalism and I think he is right. We do not know what God looks like, sounds like or feels like, but Young writes in a way as if he knows-very descriptive; and we rejoice with Him as he makes Adam from the brown, earth clay. But what is really beautiful about the work, is the suspense of Lilly's background. We get the idea she has been abused(perhaps human trafficking) and her journey from disbelief to slowly growing thoughtful of the spirit realm and of God's redemption is triumphant.The characters were well thought out and each played a vital role in Lilly's life and her ultimate decision. You will enjoy this and I hope this becomes a movie soon!Yes it can be head trip to read through because it is so complex but it s worth the ride. Promise.
34 of 39 people found the following review helpful. "Eve" is confusing with substantial holes in the plot that doesn't live up to the creative talent previously shown By Gail Welborn Wm. Paul Young, author of mega-bestsellers, The Shack and Crossroads releases Eve September 15. It's a narrative that will "challenge existing assumptions and upset the applecart by story's end," writes Young. He does that and more when he takes "artistic license" far outside the boundaries imposed by the biblical story of Adam, Eve and the fall of man.His religious themed account of creation begins with "John the Collector" and an elegant, ebony-black woman named "Mother Eve." Their visit takes place on an ocean shore in an "other" world the author never fully develops. There Eve tells John"...my child will be born into your world" today, a child whose “genetic code connects her to every known human race.”Thus begins a multi-layered murder mystery wrapped in prophecy, time distortions and fantasy in Young's "creative retelling of the story of Adam and Eve," a tale of good versus evil and gender identity. Lily, the main character and the "other" world, peopled by John, Eve and Letty among others was confusing until both stories morphed into one in the final pages of the book.Still, Young's characterizations are well drawn. Especially that of "Lily," the lone survivor of twelve murdered women found in a large shipping container that "drifted" to the other world "from Earth in real time." Lily is the girl of prophecy, the "Witness to Beginnings," yet many questions raised about her are never answered or addressed."John the Collector" gains the title of "Finder" when he takes Lily home to oversee her physical, mental and spiritual recovery. There he learns of Lily's scarred self-worth caused by dark events from her childhood.Then there's delightful "Letty," a mysterious, dwarf-sized old woman who appears to help John nurse Lily through long months of recovery, along with Artists, Scavengers, Helpers and Healers. Letty's sharp wit adds to her appeal, yet her role as Lily's "Guardian" only adds to the mystery that surrounds her.I found some of the most intriguing aspects of the book undeveloped, such as Lily's genetics that connect her to "every human race" and the book's description that says the story is a "refreshing conversation about the equality of men and women..." The genetic aspect is never developed and the question of gender identity is simply a shifting of blame. To say more would reveal too much.While Young used provocative and unorthodox views of God, Christ and the Holy Spirit in The Shack and Crossroads he challenged but didn't step outside the bounds of Scripture as he does with Eve. In this book he changes the traditional biblical account.As a fiction story "Eve" is confusing with substantial holes in the plot that doesn't live up to the creative talent the author showed in previous works. Although Young writes, "Eve" is a bold, unprecedented exploration of the Creation narrative, true to the original texts..."I'm not sure what "text" Young references since he completely changes the biblical account the story is based on. I expected more from this author. "Eve: A Novel" is the first title in a two book deal Young made with Simon & Schuster's Christian division, Howard Books.'Eve: a Novel' by William Paul Young, Hardcover – September 15, 2015, Howard Books, 320 Pages, 978-1501101373, $27.00Midwest Book Reviews: "Gail's Bookshelf" August 2015Pinterest: GailWelbornTwitter: @GailWelbornFaceBook: Gail Welborn
58 of 70 people found the following review helpful. Troubling, Faulty, Dangerous By Tim Challies On the positive side, I think [William] Paul Young has become a markedly better writer since The Shack. On the negative side, he continues to use his writing to undermine and redefine Christian theology. By my reckoning, that’s a net loss. Where The Shack was meant to revolutionize our understanding of God, his new novel Eve is meant to revolutionize and rescue our understanding of the relationship between men and women. And it is no less troubling.Now, obviously Eve is fiction, which means it can be tricky to determine exactly what the author actually means to teach through his story. There is a lot in the novel that is complex and symbolic and that awaits the author’s authoritative interpretation. But what is clear is that Young’s novel is a retelling of the creation narrative through which he means to right a great wrong.The story begins when a shipping container washes ashore on an island that exists somewhere between our world and the next. John the Collector finds a young woman named Lilly trapped inside. She is beaten, bruised, broken, and only barely alive. With the help of others—Scholars and Healers—he helps her to recover, to remember who she is, and to understand her importance in history. Lilly, it turns out, is a Witness, one who has the privilege of watching past events unfold so they can be properly understood and interpreted in the present time. Her privilege is to witness creation and the fall into sin, and in that way to provide an account that corrects all our false understandings.What she witnesses varies significantly from the account we are accustomed to hearing. A sampling of the differences includes:-She sees that the world began with a big bang and that this involved the passing of billions of years (“I can’t believe all I saw happened in six days.” … “What you witnessed, especially the Days of Creation, likely took billions of years.”). (Note: In the book’s acknowledgements section Young thanks Hugh Ross and Reasons to Believe for helping him “craft the days of creation in a way respectful to both the text and to science,” suggesting he may hold to the day-age view and, perhaps, the existence of an historical Adam.)-She sees Jesus create Adam as an infant from the dust of the ground, and sees God personally nurse Adam from his breasts (“Here in my arms and nursing at my breast is the highest expression of my creation.” “Mythology is responsible for many odd ideas. … Did your Storytellers think that Adam was created as a young man with no capacity, a brute ready to be programmed?”).-She sees that Adam falls into sin before Eve was even created, and that the naming of the animals is an infuriating kind of penance for Adam (“Spinning away, the young man raised his fists and screamed fury into the sky, one word. It reverberated and echoed back as time and place and beast stood still. ‘Alone!’”).-She sees that Eve is not taken out of Adam as much as she grows within Adam and is birthed from him (“Adam’s belly grew, expanding with a pregnancy. … In nine months God fashioned the feminine side of Adam’s humanity, the female who slept within…”).-She sees that Adam and Satan (in the guise of a snake) conspire together to take advantage of Eve’s naïveté, so that Eve is an innocent party in her own downfall (“She had been betrayed and now was being blamed by Adam for what he had conceived in his own heart.”).-She sees that God is triune and genderless and, therefore, best referred to with gender-neutral, third-person pronouns (“God turned Their face to the woman and gently spoke with words of sorrow…”).In short, she sees a whole new and “corrected” view of humanity’s origins and depravity. Through this character, Young means to show that the story of humanity’s fall into sin has been co-opted and perverted by men in order to gain power over women. Eve’s role in offering Adam the forbidden fruit is a fable men use to dominate and control women.“But it’s all just a story,” you say. True, but in this case, Young insists that his story, and the truth it contains, is the result of decades of thought and research. He insists that the truth embedded in this story has the power to free us from faulty interpretations of the Bible that have long corrupted human relationships. In an interview with Publishers Weekly he says, “Ultimately, the inspiration for Eve is the Scriptures themselves. The more I studied and pondered and conversed, the more I was driven back to Genesis and the iconic saga of Beginnings, and it was there I began to find answers to the big, system-shaking questions I was asking. Eve is my attempt to express some of what I discovered.” In that way he plays a character within his own work—the character(s) he calls the Scholar.Now, it’s not like the book is all bad. In fact, there are points where it is downright moving. Young’s descriptions of God’s joy over his creation, and especially his joy in the creation of man, is powerful and stirring. Man’s response to God’s love is equally sweet. Young’s compassion in describing the agonizing abuse endured by Lilly can only come out of the heart of an author who has himself suffered. And the story, while perhaps too complicated at times, is well-written and well-told.And yet it is, in the final assessment, a troubling, faulty, and even dangerous story. There is much I could say here, but for the sake of brevity, let me target the book’s big point.Whatever else Young means to accomplish in his work, it is clear that he means to undermine the traditional accounts of creation and human depravity. As he reinterprets those two doctrines, he then reinterprets the relationship between the sexes, teaching that any pattern of authority or submission is necessarily a product of sin. Even Adam naming Eve is, in Young’s retelling, a display of his longing for power and dominance over woman. Young goes so far in his desire to show the sinful dominance of man that he eventually elevates woman over man, femininity over masculinity, as if one is the antidote to the other. “[Women] is Adonai’s invitation to embrace frailty and softness, to be whole and unashamed, to return fully from his turning.” In this way man’s solution for sin is not only the promised offspring of the woman, but woman herself.Ironically, Young’s insistence on complete egalitarianism is inconsistent with his own story. His Witnesses, Scholars, and Collectors are all equals, yet each with his (or her) own role. Young’s world and his story only work when each of his characters freely and joyfully plays his or her role. In the same way God, in his creative work, assigned separate roles to men and women. In God’s world no role is better or greater or higher than another, but each is critical to the story he is telling.God tells us that God created men to take positions of leadership within the church and family, and for women to joyfully submit themselves to this leadership. In this way God provides a much fuller display of who he is and what he is like. His image is shown not in uniformity but in complementarity. After all, the relationships within the Trinity display this very same pattern of leadership and submission. What is ultimately at stake here is not the relationship of man to woman, but our understanding of God as he displays himself in our relationships.Behind Young’s retelling of this portion of the Bible is the question of the Bible’s authority. The only way he can teach what he teaches is by radically altering the biblical narrative. So has the Bible been wrong all along? Is the Bible only a figurative count and Eve a faithful interpretation? Were the authors such a product of their time, place, and culture that they biased their work with chauvinist ideas? As the dust settles, what exactly is true anyway? Read Eve and you won’t have much certainty.In that same interview with Publishers Weekly Young says, “There are also some who will read it and won’t ‘see’ her, sometimes because the timing isn’t right and their life’s journey has not granted the gifts inherent in suffering, or because their assumptions are too overwhelming and powerful to allow them to hear.” More condescending words have rarely been uttered. He seems unwilling to consider that perhaps it’s not that our assumptions are too overwhelming, but that God’s Word is too clear.
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