Ash has had enough. They’re being ignored at home and school, by fellow students who don’t grasp the deteriorating state of the world or parents who figure they’ll stop being weird and start doing standard teenage things any day now. Their father lectures them about the things young people should be doing, whether it’s sports or learning to drive. Adding to the indifference of the student council in supporting their environmental activism, Ash has reached their breaking point.
Their refuge from their world is the ranch of their late, beloved grandfather. This year, however, their family is going to skip the ranch and head to Disneyland; it’s going to be sold anyway. Ash reacts with horror. After some thought, their parents agree to let them go to the ranch one last time over vacation. Ash decides to take things a step further: their grandfather mentioned a cabin he’d retreat to whenever he needed to be alone, and they want to seek it out to live there–for the rest of their life, if possible.
Jen Wang is an American cartoonist, author of The Prince and The Dressmaker, Stargazing; and artist on Cory Doctorow’s In Real Life. Ash’s Cabin was nominated for an Eisner award in the teenager category, and has been nominated for a Harvey Award in the young adult category. Ash’s Cabin is her second book.
Wang composes the book in the same colors as a forest in autumn: orange, brown, blue. The artwork is minimalist, with rounded faces and blank backgrounds. LGBT themes are prominent: Ash is nonbinary, discovering and forging their identity, and running into unintentional, albeit aggravating microaggressions from their family, finding their decision to name themselves ‘Ash’ a teenage fad they’ll grow out of. Their deadname appears in the text, always blacked out. An unstated reason for Ash’s departure being the fact that they’ve figured a major part of themselves out, but their family hasn’t assimilated that fact, and hasn’t displayed any indication that they plan to.
We’ve all had fantasies about running away, to the woods (I was a deserted island person myself) or another country, maybe being isekai’d to another realm. There’s a reason just about every young adult novel involves some kind of departure from the normal world. A chance to make your life on your terms, free from judgmental external pressures.
Except that life doesn’t play fair nor pull its punches.
Much snark has been made online that Thoreau, when writing Walden, wasn’t as isolated or remote as has been led to believe. Ash’s Cabin shows how that wasn’t the wrong idea: Ash takes pride in being able to provide for themself, except in moments where the isolation becomes overwhelming (what’s the point in writing the world’s best novel if nobody is going to read it?), and, worse, when Ash screws up badly. Whether it’s losing their food supply or accidentally poisoning themself, if it wasn’t for the lucky encounter with another wandering soul, their sojourn in the woods would’ve ended a lot sooner. The price of complete self-reliance is being a whisker away from death.
When Ash opens up to other people, that is when they learn the most. While Ash does a great deal of research prior to departing for the woods, whenever they have the chance to engage with another person, they learn the indispensable skills for their adventure. By the end, nature casts the deciding vote by causing a forest fire to force Ash out of the woods. The freedom of the woods was an illusion, already dried and thick. Humanity is part of the world, its impact rippling across all levels of the world. You can’t leave what you never left. But you can return with new insights. Rather than desert humanity, it’s better to find the people who understand you. Standing and fighting is hard, but infinitely better than retreating for the illusion of independence.
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