The Man in the High Castle; Is a Novel Only as Good as Its Premise?

While Hollywood may not be well-versed in putting together solid book adaptations — I haven’t even dared watch The Book Thief yet — it does serve a good purpose to the literary universe: it manages to bring out a book from the back of the shelves, dust it off, and get people to read it.

And every now and then, there’s this movie coming out based on a book with an idea so original that it makes me put the movie on hold until I get to devour the book first. And so I did with Jose Saramago’s Blindness, Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, the 2014 hit Gone Girl, and the smashing box office success that is The Martian.

Most recently, it was Phillip K. Dick’s The Man in The High Castle. Who could resist the idea: the Axis powers winning WWII, leading to the U.S. being divided between Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan, not to mention a few other disturbing elements (like slavery being legal once more)? Surely not Amazon, that was quick to capitalize on a phenomenal premise and turn it into a series that basically steps up the streaming service’s game.

But what about the book?

For this novel, Phillip K. Dick gave up on his regular futuristic settings for a 1962 backdrop and replaced science fiction with alternative history, bringing to life a Japanese-occupied California and a culture where the ancient Chinese oracle, the I Ching, is both fortune teller and decider of all things.

Alternating between the stories of several characters that are somewhat connected, the book follows 3 main story lines: a fitting espionage tale, a beautiful portrayal of arts and crafts and their struggle to survive, and an alternate-ending book (gotta love the irony here) that baffles all with the story of how Nazi Germany actually lost WWII.

And however interesting all three story lines may sound, when drowned in a sea of elements meant to support the premise of the book — elements like an unnatural and sleep-inducing language meant to highlight the superiority of the Japanese; the white American man’s submissive behavior and poignant inferiority complex; the German’s mind-baffling technological advancements, to name just a few — your mind is bound to wonder off.

By trying to fit too many pieces together, The Man in The High Castle succeeds in telling more stories at once, but fails to bring to life that one center story that we all wanted to see play out. With shallow characters, a lack of storytelling continuity, plenty of distractions, and no clear plot, the book left me wanting more; it genuinely confused me as to what the main story is, what character I should root for, what is it that I want to find out by the end of the book.

Nevertheless, the idea behind the book was bold and imaginative, sparking conversations throughout decades and landing Phillip K. Dick a Hugo Award for Best Novel in 1963. Which leaves me wondering: is a novel only as good as its premise?