Arch-Conspirator
3.5/5
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About this ebook
In this gripping and atmospheric reimagining of Antigone, #1 New York Times bestselling author Veronica Roth reaches back to the root of legend and delivers a world of tomorrow both timeless and unexpected.
“I’m cursed, haven’t you heard?”
Outside the last city on Earth, the planet is a wasteland. Without the Archive, where the genes of the dead are stored, humanity will end.
Antigone’s parents—Oedipus and Jocasta—are dead. Passing into the Archive should be cause for celebration, but with her militant uncle Kreon rising to claim her father's vacant throne, all Antigone feels is rage.
When he welcomes her and her siblings into his mansion, Antigone sees it for what it really is: a gilded cage, where she is a captive as well as a guest.
But her uncle will soon learn that no cage is unbreakable. And neither is he.
“Roth is a masterful conjurer, summoning both classic myth and visceral dystopia to weave a breathtaking tale of love, avarice, and the timeless desire for revenge.” — Ryka Aoki, bestselling author of Light From Uncommon Stars
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
Veronica Roth
VERONICA ROTH is the #1 New York Times best-selling author of the Divergent series (Divergent, Insurgent, Allegiant, and Four: A Divergent Collection) and the Carve the Mark duology (Carve the Mark, The Fates Divide). Divergent received the 2011 Goodreads Choice Award for Favorite Book, Publishers Weekly’s Best Book of 2011, and was the winner of the YALSA 2012 Teens’ Top Ten. The trilogy has been adapted into a blockbuster movie series starring Shailene Woodley and Theo James. Carve the Mark published in January 2017, debuted at #1 on the New York Times bestseller list, and remained on the list for eighteen weeks. The Fates Divide, the second installment of the Carve the Mark series, also debuted at #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. Though she was born in Mount Kisco, New York, Veronica’s family moved to Hong Kong and Germany before settling in Barrington, Illinois. In elementary school, Veronica read constantly, but it wasn’t until she got a “make your own book!” kit from her mother as a gift that she thought to write anything of her own. From that time on, she knew she would write for the rest of her life, whether she was published or not. She wrote the manuscript that would become Divergent in her free time while attending Northwestern University, where she graduated magna cum laude with a degree in English Literature with Creative Writing in 2010. She is a board member of YALLFest, the biggest YA book festival in the country, and YALLWEST, its sister festival. She currently lives in Chicago with her husband and their dog, Avi, whose adorable existence is well-documented on Instagram.
Read more from Veronica Roth
Chosen Ones Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Poster Girl Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Reviews for Arch-Conspirator
38 ratings5 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I really loved this very quick novella. It was disturbing to imagine that in a future time the government may decide to extract one's essence or soul from the body to house in an archive for later reincarnation. Similar in some respects to The Handmaid's Tale as well as the movie Gattaca, this was a fast read and my only complaint is that it wasn't longer. I really took to the characters and wanted so much more.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5First sentence: I asked my father, once, why he chose to curse us before we were born.Premise/plot: A futuristic (post-apocalyptic/dystopian) retelling of Antigone--this is how this one is being marketed. Is knowledge of the classic (tragic) (Greek) play, "Antigone" a must to reading this one? I'd say no. Is familiarity of it helpful to appreciating it? Maybe. Long story short, Antigone and her siblings are "doomed from the start" or "cursed." Their (tyrant) Uncle Kreon has had them in a "gilded cage" of a "prison" since coming to power (after the murder/death of Antigone (and siblings) parents--Oedipus and Jocasta. Even if the fate of humanity on Earth wasn't in a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad state, these siblings would be in a bad position. When two of the brothers kill each other (Polyneikes and Eteocles), Kreon forbids Polyneikes a proper 'memorial' of sorts. (In this futuristic culture, DNA is extracted from the dead (within twenty-four hours) and preserved in an archive. The genetic material from the dead are used to create new life. Future parents select which 'souls' from the past to join together. Natural born children do not have souls according to this lore.) Antigone made a vow to extract her brother's DNA so his soul (ichor) could live on and be immortal. But she does so at great risk to her own life. If caught, she could face extreme punishment. Those closest to her will face difficult decisions...My thoughts: I would say I am conflicted about this one, but I'm not conflicted at all. Retelling a classic story can work well in some (but not all) instances. Futuristic dystopian novels can work well in some (but not all) instances. Typically dystopian novels are written heavy-handed (even if they are not received that way) with an agenda (a dramatized WARNING to 'gently' or not so gently guide the present day away from (perceived) dangers). I expected agenda in Arch-Conspirator as well. In this future-world, women are valued as vessels. Population has plummeted--extinction likely. Women's wombs are extremely valued by society. Now, all humanity has been damaged the effects of by nuclear warfare, but scientists are patching together viable life--using DNA from the Archive--so humanity is surviving (barely) but not thriving. Wanting or not wanting children isn't really a question worth considering. Retellings can be handled many different ways. Authors can choose to change a LOT or very little. If you change too much, the original might disappear altogether and become unrecognizable. If you change too little, well, you risk it not working in another way. Removed from the original world, original setting, the plot devices, the characters, the themes might not make sense or as much sense as you'd hope. Long story short, I don't know that the meshing of an Antigone retelling in a futuristic, post-apocalyptic world makes the most sense. If the retelling hadn't stuck so closely to the original, then it might have worked better.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/52023 book #16. 2023. A retelling of the ancient Sophocles' play "Antigone" set in a dying city after a great apocalypse. When her brother revolts against the king and is killed Antigone tries to give her brother's body proper respect. A novella, so it's short, but well written.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book may be small in length but not in impact! This is an action packed, quickly paced story that will keep you engaged and guessing until the very end. I was completely engrossed. The ending felt a bit abrupt and utterly shocking, but I think upon reflection that was the point. Were they really doomed from the start? Read to find out!!!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5In Arch-Conspirator, Veronica Roth turns the story of Antigone on its head. In doing so, she makes it accessible to a new generation of readers. By changing the setting from ancient Greece to post-apocalyptic Greece, alongside a few other vital tweaks, it also becomes a much more plausible story that is sure to make this ancient tale last even longer.A month after finishing Arch-Conspirator, I am in awe of what Ms. Roth accomplished in 128 pages. Not only does she tell the main story, but she also builds a brand new Greece, post-apocalyptic and very different. In addition, she has to explain the genetic Archive, its importance to society, and the ramifications behind the characters’ actions or inactions.Most importantly, she gets us to care about Antigone and her siblings. We understand her rage and sorrow. We detest her uncle as much as she does. And we applaud her efforts to remain autonomous and defiant. The depth of character is astonishing because you don’t expect it in a novella. Yet, we know so much more about Antigone than I ever expected. It is a testament to Ms. Roth’s writing ability that she establishes a genuine connection to these characters within a few short pages.In Arch-Conspirator, Ms. Roth morphs the ickier elements of the original story into something that makes more sense to modern readers while maintaining the societal impact Oedipus’ marriage has on Antigone and the rest of her family. Such modernization of the Antigone tragedy is what makes Arch-Conspirator so impressive. From the world-building to the character development to staying faithful to the original story speaks volumes about the strength of writing Ms. Roth puts forth. Make sure you add it to your TBR list!
Book preview
Arch-Conspirator - Veronica Roth
1
Antigone
I asked my father, once, why he chose to curse us before we were born. Because to be born as my siblings and I were was to be doomed from the start. We were unique among our people, pieced together from whatever random combination of genes our two parents provided. Table-scrap children.
He didn’t say, as my mother had, a year before, We didn’t think it was a curse.
He was far too unsentimental for that.
We thought,
he said to me, it was a curse worth bearing.
An honest man, and now a dead one.
He was in the courtyard, the man who killed my father. Oh, perhaps he hadn’t held the blade, but the coup that wrenched political power from my father’s hands and then trampled him beneath its boots was Kreon’s coup, undergone for Kreon, by Kreon.
He was in the casual version of his uniform, pants tucked into boots, shirt tucked into pants, forehead dotted with sweat, the morning sun already applying pressure. He bent his head to listen to the head of his guard, Nikias. They were too far away for me to hear.
I was on a balcony, nestled in ivy that grew only here, in the High Commander’s courtyard, where no amount of water scarcity in other parts of the city could convince Kreon to sacrifice beauty. People will permit a High Commander his small indulgences, I had heard him say once. It is such a difficult job.
I imagined he was right—it was a difficult job, keeping a tight fist for so long. But I wasn’t sure any amount of ivy could make this place beautiful to me.
Nikias moved away from Kreon, no doubt sent on some small mission. My uncle’s eyes lifted to mine. He nodded in greeting.
My throat tightened. I disappeared into the leaves.
After the fighting had ceased, after we had found our father and mother’s bodies in the streets, washed them, prayed over them; after I had Extracted their ichor, too young for the responsibility and yet the only ones to do it; after we had stored what was left of them in the Archive; after all that, Kreon had summoned us to this house, to that courtyard where the ivy grew and the street spilled in, and, in the presence of all who had ears to hear, told us we were welcome to live with him there. To this day, I’m not sure what prompted this act of generosity. We disgust Kreon, as we disgust many in this city, because of our origins.
Perhaps it was because we were family, and there were rules for family, and Kreon loved rules. Kreon was Oedipus’s brother, Oedipus’s shadow. A man of the blade instead of a man of the mind. At family gatherings when I was young, he was known for breaking things—glasses, plates, toys—just from handling them too roughly. Once, my mother asked him to brush Ismene’s hair for her, and Ismene spent the entire time trying not to cry as he ripped knots out of her head. He didn’t know how to be teased; he only laughed at other people, never himself.
Perhaps it wasn’t because we were family—perhaps it was because we were children of Oedipus, warped though we were by our genes. And Oedipus had almost started a revolution—he was a symbol, and so were we. And what better way to take the power from a symbol than to claim it as your own?
So when Kreon told us we were welcome to live in his house, I knew what the consequences would be: he would let Polyneikes and Eteocles and Ismene and me live, but we would do so at his pleasure. We would live in his house, lending legitimacy to his rule, and he would keep his eye on us.
We thank you for your generosity, I had told him, in the moment.
2
Polyneikes
Been coming here to the Cafe Athena for several years now, ever since I had spend to burn and she started working here. It was her dad’s shop—had to be, or she wouldn’t have been working—but mostly he wasn’t there to catch me staring. Figured every woman, from the first one who ever gave me that funny feeling to the one I ultimately got assigned to, would be doing the same equation: add my famous parents, tragic backstory, generational wealth, and winsome smile, and subtract the unsettling reality of my busted genetic code, and what do you get? Someone worth messing around with?
If the waitress at the Athena even bothered with the calculus, she came up decidedly not interested,
but the coffee tasted less burnt here than in most other places, so I kept coming anyhow.
This isn’t coffee,
Parth said to me after his first sip. It’s liquid shit.
True, it wasn’t coffee—there were just a handful of coffee plants in the greenhouses, so only a lucky few had ever had the real stuff. This was just an approximation of coffee, with a conjecture of sugar stirred into it.
I was sitting at the least rickety of the tables out front, street-side, my toe wedged under one of the table legs to steady it. The seat across from me was empty, but Parth was standing, drinking from a tiny mug that made his hand look comically large. Somebody pedaled past with a bucket of paper flowers hanging off the back of her bicycle; one of them toppled onto the stones. Nabbed right away by a beggar kid with a cup for coin. He stuck it behind his ear.
You could sit,
I said to Parth. Tig probably won’t be on time.
These chairs make me feel like I’m playing teatime with my niece,
he said. Big guy, Parth was. Had the look of a guy who would turn out to be a softie, only he wasn’t. Too tricky for that. Plus, I’m done. You let her come all the way here by herself? Some brother.
Tig can handle herself.
Parth set his mini mug down on the table and eyed me. You’re not gonna tell her nothing, right?
Of course not. But you know her, she might figure it out anyway.
Just so long as she doesn’t interfere.
Interfere with what?
a slim, reedy voice asked from behind him. And there she was: my sister, sidling up just as the clock struck 1400 hours.
Antigone,
Parth said to her, with a head bob that was supposed to be like a bow.
Parthenopaeus,
she replied. Will you be joining us?
No, gotta run,
he said. See you later, Pol.
He dodged the beggar kid and his cup, crossed the street, and disappeared into a crooked alley. A gust of wind came up behind him, blowing dust into the air. Antigone pulled the scarf she wore over her hair across her nose and mouth until it settled. I just held my breath.
The waitress came by, that little bounce in her walk, and brought two cups of coffee, black, and a pile of sweetener cubes stacked neat like a temple. She didn’t look either of us in the eye. Didn’t ask if we’d like anything else.
Thought you liked the service here,
Antigone said.
I like the look of it.
She snorted. You don’t care who treats you like a pariah, as long as she’s got nice legs?
Can’t fault people for learning what they’re taught.
Can, too. I do it all the time,
she said. "So what was Parth on