In “The Measure,” by Nikki Erlick, we visit a changed world where all people over the age of 22 are able to discover how long they will live. “The measure of your life lies within” is what is inscribed on a wooden-looking chest that also features each person’s name on it. Inside the indestructible chest is a piece of string, similarly indestructible, and its length indicates the life span of the recipient. This simple white—almost magical—string changes the world.
Erlick’s concept is fascinating, and her method for describing and explaining what happens in this new world of strings is masterfully conceived. There are several characters from whose perspectives we see the events happening. While they all seem to be randomly chosen people, by the end of the novel we find that they are all connected. In fact, one of the messages of the book is that we really are all connected.
Erlick imagines how different governments would react to this event. Some authoritarian governments demand that the boxes be delivered to them unopened, while others require a registry of all citizens and their string length. Soon, scientists deliver the news that the string length has been proven to be an accurate measure of one’s lifespan.
And as we know too well, if there is a way to demonize a minority, people will do it. So those with short strings become known as “short stringers.” Companies don’t want to hire them; they aren’t given promotions or loans. In short, they are discriminated against because of their string’s length. Through the narratives in the story, each chapter labeled with the name of the person from whose point of view it’s written, we see how the strings affect jobs, upend relationships, and cause strife.
Erlick’s premise will be fascinating to discuss at book clubs. Do we have what is the equivalent of an expiration date? In the novel, a newlywed couple find out that one of them has a very short string while the other has a long string. They are determined to die together, so they both hold hands and jump from a high bridge. The short stringer dies, but the other isn’t killed, just terribly injured. There are ways to survive horrific accidents and not die — but the Tuck Everlasting question remains: “Is death preferable?”
If strings reflect the length of one’s life, is there any culpability for causing the death of another person? After all, that person’s time of death was predetermined. One especially venal character reflects on something he did which caused the death of a young man. In relieving himself of responsibility for the death, he tells himself that “As long as the boy’s string was short—had always been short—then (he) wasn’t to blame.” If the boy hadn’t died from the excessive consumption of alcohol, he would have died another way, right?
Shortly after the appearance of the strings, people with short strings rush to hospitals to try to find out what is wrong with them. Is there something that can be done to cure their cancer? To fix a previously unknown illness? But no matter what is done, the time of death is immutable.
One of the main characters is dumped by his girlfriend of two years because of his short string. Another chooses to stay with her significant other in spite of that person’s rather short string. Each character brings new questions for us to ponder. How would we react in that situation? Would we even choose to open the box? (Not everyone opens their box.) Is life to be lived in the present? What about the issues that Erlick doesn’t cover, like what would happen with health and life insurance?
Perhaps one of the most touching moments in the novel is when a woman is talking about two of the characters who had short strings. They both died heroically saving the lives of others. She says that they “both made such a difference with their lives. Their impact will be felt for years, even generations. In a way, I think the two of them had the longest strings I’ve ever seen.”
And perhaps that sums it up. Is it better to live a long, uneventful live in which you do little but pander to your own wants and needs, or to live a life filled with noble deeds, with self-sacrifice, and with unselfish giving? What, indeed, is the true measure of a life?
Please note: This review is based on the final, hardcover book provided by William Morrow, the publisher, for review purposes.