2020 was supposed to be the year. It was a new chapter unfolding––a fresh start. Everyone was eager for new beginnings. A bit too eager, it now seems. A pandemic is unfolding, legends have died, and one of the most crucial presidential elections of all time ensued. Uncertainty is now familiar. Clay and Amanda, the protagonists in Rumaan Alam’s Leave the World Behind, shared the similar hopeful feeling that so many did at the onset of this year when they rented a vacation home in Long Island, New York. Similarly enough, things did not go as planned for them either. 

        Rumaan Alam is no stranger to the written word. His work, such as book reviews and personal essays, can be found in several publications from The New York Times to Buzzfeed. Leave the World Behind is his third novel in four years––and his second to be nominated for a National Book Award. His freshman and sophomore novels, Rich and Pretty and That Kind of Mother, radiate a sense of warmth. They both look closely at the roles and relationships within a woman’s life––mother, wife, caregiver, friend. Such titles tend to have a positive, welcoming connotation. However, Alam’s third novel pivots away from this feeling, leading the reader down a different, more unsettling path. With a premise that is anything but comforting, Leave the World Behind proves to be confusing at times, however, that just might be the reason that it is perfectly placed within the context of 2020. 

        The novel surrounds Clay and Amanda’s urge to get away and escape the busy lives they lead in New York City. To do so, the couple, along with their two children Archie and Rose, rent a house in a remote area of Long Island in an attempt to envelop themselves in relaxation. Their serenity is interrupted, however, when the owners of the home, G.H. and Ruth Washington, show up at their doorstep one night, complaining of a blackout back in the city. Clay and Amanda reluctantly allow them to stay and all things begin to unravel. Cell phones and televisions no longer work, eardrum-rattling noises erupt, children get sick, and panic overwhelms the house. The four adults are forced to set aside their differences and work together––though it is up for debate how much is really accomplished in their manic state. 

        Leave the World Behind is a commentary on race just as much as it is a suspense novel. Right from the start, Alam paints Clay, Amanda, Archie, and Rose as the perfect, white American family. They are undoubtedly a cliché, but one can infer that this is not a mistake, as most white people exhibit racial prejudice––whether they are aware of it or not. Clay and Amanda themselves are the most guilty of this, for people’s origins seem to plague their minds, and prove to be a key identifier and descriptor for anyone that they know or come into contact with. Amanda points out her Korean co-worker, Jocelyn’s, accent, calling it “mealymouthed” and “incongruous,” while Clay equates smoking a cigarette to “owning slaves or killing the Cherokee.” This only scratches the surface though; the couple’s microaggressions prove to be in full swing upon the arrival of the Washingtons. The fact that they are black is mentioned immediately and is a large part of why Clay and Amanda do not trust them. Amanda asserts that their vacation home “didn’t seem to her the sort of house where black people lived” and, because of this, questions, “‘What if he’s the handyman? What if she’s the maid?’” Through the lens of Clay and Amanda, Alam reminds the readers of G.H. and Ruth’s race continuously throughout the novel, as if it is an excuse for the white couple to question the black couple’s motives or act a certain way towards them. However, the Washingtons’ race, along with the sudden and mysterious way in which they arrive at the house, adds a lot to the novel, giving it a thrill reminiscent of Jordan Peele’s critically-acclaimed––and racially focused–– horror films Get Out and Us. 

        Alam is known for his beautifully eloquent descriptions throughout his pieces of written work. He pays an immense amount of attention to detail and illustrates scenes and characters vividly; however, this way of writing may not have lended itself quite as well to this particular type of novel. Alam shares all––descriptions of naked bodies, everything purchased on a trip to the grocery store, the house’s Wi-Fi password, and seemingly unnecessary familial backstory. Nothing is left up to the imagination, which results in the story often feeling slow. It feels so slow at times that, upon finishing the novel, the reader may come to realize that not all that much happened. This same novel could have been half the length and still had the same premise––producing an even more engaging and suspenseful book. 

        It is not often that a novel full of so much uneasiness and uncertainty can provide a potential sense of comfort to its readers. Rumaan Alam has done just that in these unprecedented times, by providing an escape from the frenzy that is 2020. Selfishly, readers may find solace in Clay and Amanda’s fear––they may be living through a pandemic, but at least they are not in that house in Long Island. And––just this once––such a feeling is completely warranted. One can assume that that was Alam’s exact goal in writing this novel, so, even though it may not be perfect, he is inviting the reader to pick up this book and leave the world behind.