Book Review: The 2020 Commission Report On The North Korean Nuclear Attacks Against The U.S.: A Speculative Novel by Jeffrey Lewis
A few months ago, while scrolling through a list of speculative fiction, I stumbled across The 2020 Commission Report On The North Korean Nuclear Attacks Against The U.S. by Jeffrey Lewis. My curiosity piqued, not just by its chilling premise but also by the fact that it’s styled as an official government report. Could a book combining stark reality with speculative fiction create an impactful reading experience? As I delved deeper, I found a gripping blend of fact and fiction that had me contemplating our current geopolitical climate.
At its core, Lewis’s novel brilliantly posits a timeline where a catastrophic nuclear attack transforms the fabric of American life. Structured like an actual commission report, it examines the events leading up to the attacks in March 2020, where 1.4 million citizens perish. What initially appears to be a standard bureaucratic document soon reveals itself as a gripping narrative that poses critical questions about international policy, leadership choices, and the dire consequences of underestimating threats. The politically charged atmosphere is palpable, particularly with tender references to miscalculations by the Trump administration, provoking reflections on modern diplomacy and the perilous line between provocation and preparedness.
The writing, while somber and analytical, carries an unsettling intensity that grips you, sometimes making you lose track of time. As I turned page after page, I was swept up in a world where the unthinkable becomes tangible. The stark presentation adds to its chilling effect. Reviews often highlight the coldness of the prose as a potential drawback, yet for me personally, it heightened the emotional weight. There’s a certain stark brilliance in how Lewis refrains from dramatizing, choosing instead a detached style—almost clinical—that leaves the horror of the events to resonate with unfiltered clarity.
One particularly striking quote captured this duality beautifully: "To answer these questions will not bring back the lives lost in March 2020. It may, however, prevent a tragedy of this magnitude from occurring again." This encapsulates the hauntingly deterministic irony in the narrative. The book leads you to not only witness these catastrophic events but also to ruminate on the larger implications for humanity.
While the pace may feel methodical, it is this very quality that allows the reader to digest the harrowing information. Some may dismiss it as alarmist, but those who appreciate the intersection of fiction and political analysis will find the insights invaluable. I remember thinking how essential it is for readers to confront uncomfortable truths rather than gloss over them, especially when lives hang in the balance.
The 2020 Commission Report is not for everyone—and certainly not if you’re looking for a traditional narrative rife with character arcs and action-packed scenes. However, it serves a unique purpose: it’s a sobering reminder of our world’s fragility and the far-reaching effects of governance.
I recommend this book to readers eager to engage with complex political themes, and to those who enjoy a speculative lens on contemporary issues. It’s a meticulous read that left me contemplating the very real stakes in today’s nuclear landscape. As I close this chapter, I find myself reflecting not just on the narrative’s implications but also on the duty we have to remain vigilant and informed. If you’re ready to engage in a thought-provoking dialogue about the future of international relations, then this one is for you.