Left Behind: Soul Harvest is the best book in the series so far, but even at it’s peak, this series is unable to rise to the level of “competent.”
The most important point to acknowledge about Soul Harvest is that it’s the first book in the Left Behind series with any narrative thrust. This is the first time one conflict carries a book from beginning to end, and any actual tension is allowed to develop. HOWEVER, it achieves that accolade at the expense of the entire female cast. “Our women are missing. Where are our women???” is the plot for 95% of the book. The authors seem to be aware that they have trouble writing female characters. While books 1 and 2 struggled to make them anything more than objects to be protected and pursued, book 3 consigned them to stay home, and ended with all of them either dead or in jeopardy. Book 4 solves its how-do-we-write-women problem by not having any until 2/3 of the way through its word count. On the one hand, the smaller focus improves the narrative and unifies the book behind a single theme. On the other hand, there are no women in the first 2/3 of this book about rescuing women.
I have spent a lot of time bemoaning the treatment of female characters in this series. However, each book invents new ways of being terrible to them. Once they do limp back onto the page, they aren’t relegated any additional agency. I had to laugh when Hattie was reintroduced over the phone mid-weeping breakdown. Meanwhile, the female characters seem to get the worst of the book’s uncomfortable glee at pain and suffering.
As we saw in book 3, Jenkins *loves* to write about tragedy. Not dramatic tragedy, such as a story with flawed characters doomed to fail, but rather physical tragedy and wholesale destruction. The passages of death, suffering, and trauma are the most polished and lovingly crafted in the book. From a writing perspective, these are the standout moments because they are successfully evocative. But over time, they become uncomfortable to read. The narrator is too excited to tell you the gruesome, gory details. Early in the book, one of our protagonists is unable to retrieve the body of an established character from the previous books. But every time we return to that setting, the narrator takes a moment to update us on what new desecration the corpse has suffered. Later on, when Chloe finally re-enters the story, there is a half-page dissection of the injuries she has sustained. From that point on, the narrator constantly remarks that Chloe is Buck’s “sweet, innocent wife on one side and a monster on the other.” These are just two examples, but there are more. When Jenkins writes about characters enduring suffering, it feels sadistic. We, the audience, are to look upon them with horror, not empathy or sadness. They are puppets whose pain is a warning to us: “Better accept Christ now, or you’ll end up in their shoes.”
A few miscellaneous points worth checking in on:
The abortion stuff is there, but it’s more of a plot device than ethical quandary, so it doesn’t feel as gross as it did in the previous books, even though we’re technically engaging with it in a worse way. The bad guys giving Hattie an abortion has as much weight as the villains from Spaceballs giving Princess Vespa her old nose back. It’s a nebulous threat from which the damsel must be saved.
The 4-act structure of books 1-3 is scrapped for something way less coherent. I broke the book into 5 distinct acts, but the first two take up about 70% of the book. The final act just feels like somebody pressed x4 on the TV remote, covering more ground than the actual plot did.
There was a twist that surprised me at the end, but there aren’t enough details confirmed to discuss it here. When I do a full-series breakdown, I’ll make sure to hit on Amanda as a character and whether she was necessary in the story at all.
Just like book 3, the title has nothing to do with the plot. The “soul harvesting” is happening on the internet in the background. I guess two members of the cast become Christians in the book, but that’s hardly connected to the titular work being done by Tsion.
Finally, there wasn’t nearly enough of Minnesota in this book. I’m offended, but in the same way you might be if a thief robbed all the houses on your block except yours. “What, was Minnesota not important enough to destroy? You didn’t feel like trashing the Mall of America for a while?” With eight books to go, there’s still plenty of time for that, I suppose.
And with all that, I have to remind myself that I’m still in the section of the series that fans tend to like. WHAT’S IN THE “BAD” BOOKS?
(As always, notes for this book are over on the Left Behind 12 book collection. Book 4 notes start on page 26 and end on page 36)