The Space Between Worlds

The novel’s opening structure emphasizes the scientific principles that drive the premise, illustrating Johnson’s conception of the theoretical “many-worlds” interpretation. Each major section of the novel is preceded by a series of detached, impersonal facts, and the author uses this tactic to outline the mechanics of traversing and to contrast the scientific and spiritual responses to this technology and its effects. Notably, this largely objective framework is contrasted by Cara’s cynical first-person narration, which strikes an intensely personal and emotionally guarded tone as she contemplates the many injustices of the multiverse. Because her voice is influenced by years of trauma, her account delves into inconvenient nuances that the privileged world of Eldridge often ignores. This dichotomy is reinforced by a nonlinear narrative that intersperses Cara’s present actions with key flashbacks and crucial exposition about the different versions of other recurring characters, such as Nik Nik and his brother. As the narrative unfolds through associative leaps triggered by Cara’s memory and fears, Johnson invokes a structure that mirrors the protagonist’s own fractured sense of self.

Thus, these early chapters ground the novel’s premise in a broader critique of systemic oppression, and Johnson’s primary goal is to critique The Systemic Exploitation of Marginalized Groups. The rigid class hierarchy of this world traps the Ashtown residents in a morass of limited possibilities and environmental toxins while lavishing full medical care, wealth, and social stability upon the privileged people in Wiley City. In this context, the central conceit of multiverse travel—that traversers can only visit worlds in which their counterparts are dead—becomes an allegory for the callous ways in which capitalism assigns finite values to human lives.

Although the individuals from Ashtown have been deemed “trash” by Wiley society, their very poverty causes their high mortality rates across worlds, transforming them into uniquely valuable assets for Eldridge’s exploitative practices. As Cara bitterly reflects, “Even worthless things can become valuable once they become rare” (3), and this idea serves as the foundational logic of the system that has trapped her in its grasp. The physical toll of traversing, known as Nyame’s kiss, represents the tangible price that these marginalized individuals must pay for their highly conditional entry into elite spaces like Wiley City. Correspondingly, Starla Saeed’s abrupt termination and deportation underscore the disposability of this labor pool, for her value evaporates the moment a more efficient asset—Cara—becomes available. It is clear that Eldridge does not offer the traversers a path to liberation; instead, it subjects the desperate former residents of Ashtown to a different form of commodification, transforming their personal history of suffering and deprivation into a marketable resource that will further benefit the wealthy at the expense of the marginalized.

This environment serves as the backdrop for Johnson’s investigation into Identity as Both Static and Fluid. Although Cara shares several key traits with her doppelgängers, her existence on Earth Zero is a constant act of impersonation as she struggles to construct a passable version of herself from the journals of the late Caramenta, the woman whose life she stole. The journals therefore function as a potent symbol of this broader theme, becoming both an instruction manual for a new life and a constant reminder that Cara’s entire existence on this plane is a fabrication. As the protagonist moves between her own secret identity of Caralee and the outward projection of Caramenta, Johnson presents identity itself as a set of possibilities that are contingent on an individual’s degree of privilege and their specific circumstances.

In this light, the contrasts between Cara’s situation and that of the abused Nelline on Earth 175, the wealthy Caralee on Earth 255, and the Caramenta on Earth Zero simultaneously question and affirm the notion of a singular, “true” self. Although each “Cara’s” identity is profoundly shaped by the world she inhabits, the narrative nonetheless suggests that all of the Caras possess several common personality traits and behavioral tendencies that their circumstances have either intensified or obscured. As the novel unfolds, the protagonist will grapple with the question of whether her own tendencies stem more from nature or nurture, and the ultimate answer to this question will remain largely ambiguous.

Cara’s narration reveals a deeply fractured internal state, a direct consequence of the trauma she has endured and the pressure to maintain her imposture. Even when she is based on Earth Zero, her identity is caught in a liminal space between her Ashtown origins and her Wiley City aspirations, leaving her feeling like an impostor in both social worlds. This psychological conflict manifests in her hyper-awareness of social codes and her careful code-switching, from her choice of clothing to her strategic modulation of language. Her confession to herself during a fireworks display—“I am not Caramenta” (26)—therefore acts as a moment of psychological release: a truth uttered into chaos because it cannot be spoken in the structured reality of her daily life.

Taken together with the revelation of her history with the Earth 22 Nik Nik, these factors suggest that her guarded personality can be reinterpreted as an ingrained survival mechanism. Even as she struggles to keep track of who she is and who others expect her to be, Nik Nik’s presence suffuses her awareness, whether he appears as a doppelgänger or as a memory, and this omnipresent source of trauma dictates her decisions and drives her fears. This dynamic is particularly prominent when she investigates Nelline’s apparent murder, which she immediately recognizes as his work. Cara’s early apprehension at the mere mention of Nik Nik foreshadows the novel’s exploration of her many traumatic run-ins with different versions of him over the course of her interdimensional travels. His innate capacity for cruelty also develops the novel’s focus on Identity as Both Static and Fluid, and this issue will become vital as Cara navigates the political hazards of Earth 175 in the upcoming chapters.

While Cara’s life between the worlds is fraught with many physical dangers, the initial dynamic between her and Dell explores the more nebulous intersection between personal desires and the limitations of exploitative social hierarchies. To Cara, Dell represents the institutional power and social legitimacy that Cara has always craved, for the stylish watcher is an avatar of Wiley City’s cool, professional residents, and her position of authority complicates the recurring suggestions of the two characters’ mutual but largely unspoken attraction to one another. Specifically, Cara’s affection for Dell is inextricable from the overarching power dynamic, and she repeatedly finds herself frustrated in her flirtatious attempts to bridge the social chasm between them and declare herself Dell’s equal.

Conversely, Dell’s initial refusal to provide Cara with Nelline’s full medical file, coupled with her insistence on following procedure, reinforces her role as a staunch gatekeeper of the system. However, her brief moments of vulnerability, as when she shows despair over her lost earring, offer Cara a few vital glimpses of the person behind the role. When Cara responds to Dell’s distress by replacing the earring with one from her interdimensional collection, this secret act of care symbolically transcends universes and suggests that she is uniquely capable of meeting Dell’s unspoken needs, even though this power remains hidden. The women’s interactions therefore serve as a microcosm of Cara’s broader struggle to find genuine connection in a world that consistently reduces her to her practical utility as a traverser.

Finally, these chapters establish the novel’s quest for belonging through the symbol of Cara’s souvenir collection. The sealed bags containing dirt, rocks, and an earring from other worlds are more than mementos; they are fragments of lives that she was never meant to live or influence, and she uses the collection as a way to anchor her unmoored identity in something tangible. Because each object commemorates a place where a version of her is dead, she is essentially amassing an archive of her own mortality and a physical manifestation of her disconnection from the fabric of reality.

On a more practical level, certain details of the collection also function in accordance with the narrative principle known as “Chekov’s Gun”: the narrative idea by the Russian playwright of the same name who stated “[o]ne must never place a loaded rifle on the stage if it isn’t going to go off.” When Cara mentions the existence of the deadly parasite called “Lot’s Wife” and confesses to having a sample of it in her collection, the narrative suggests that this deadly object will be employed in some way before the conclusion of the novel. As the final chapters will reveal, this parasite will play an integral role in the resolution of the deadly political dilemma that eventually ensnares Cara.

For now, however, the narrative focus remains upon Cara’s sense of disconnection and her silent yearning for a home that transcends mere physical location. Bereft in more ways than one, she simultaneously rejects Ashtown and feels like a fraud in Wiley City, and her ultimate goal is to find a state of being that allows her to integrate the disparate parts of herself without fear of exposure. Her drive to become an analyst is an expression of this longing, for the job security of this role would grant her a permanent place in Wiley City and give her a status that would legitimize her existence. Yet, the narrative suggests that such external validation may be insufficient. The pragmatic Ashtown ethos, “It doesn’t matter how you got it, if you have it, it’s yours” (33), reflects a survivalist mentality that Cara carries with her, but although this philosophy has served her well, she will only find true belonging when she reconciles the person she was with the person she is pretending to be.