John Harrison, an acclaimed author with a career spanning over five decades, has released his first novel in six years, *The End of Everything*. Known for blending genres and employing apocalyptic themes to scrutinize contemporary issues, Harrison’s latest work presents a dystopian vision of 21st-century Britain. The novel unfolds in a fractured society left virtually governmentless following a catastrophic event that severs the country from continental Europe, which has been mysteriously "mislaid," evoking parallels to Brexit.

Harrison’s narrative centers on the aftermath of this disaster, which society attributes to the arrival of the iGhetti, an enigmatic alien species whose nature and origin remain uncertain. These creatures, first introduced in Harrison’s earlier short stories, appear as fleeting flashes of light or jellylike beings and have become a widespread symbol for societal decay. Various speculative theories circulate within the novel regarding their appearance — ranging from ties to dark matter and the late 2000s banking crises to religious interpretations framing them as part of a cosmic "Rapture." More skeptically, they are described as phenomena emerging from the internet or leaking from an astral plane. The iGhetti are portrayed as mimicking human behaviors, particularly concentrated in global financial hubs such as London’s City, New York, Dubai, and major Chinese banking centers, acting as forces that amplify humanity’s most pressing threats.

Set against this backdrop are two central characters: Marnie, a 70-year-old painter who relocated to the southeastern coast of England a generation prior, and her nephew Phillip Tennent, a man in his thirties who recently sought refuge there. The community they inhabit is unstable and isolated, with the vestiges of globalism symbolized only by the remnants of a downed passenger jet in Marnie’s garden. In the absence of formal authority, local militias administer harsh justice. Tensions escalate when Marnie shoots a harassing teenager, an act compelling her to flee, leaving Tennent to survive amid the chaos.

Tennent makes a living as a mudlarker, scavenging the coastline. Early in the novel, he acquires an unusual "artefact"—an iGhetti lifeform newly emerged from sea foam, reminiscent of the birth of Venus. This creature rapidly develops into an almost humanlike being with limited speech and emotional capacity. Tennent’s relationship with the creature is complex; although repelled at times, he ultimately rescues it from violent gangs and the cruel experimentation of a collector named Hampson.

The dynamics among Marnie, Tennent, and the iGhetti form a fragile and uneasy alliance, underscored by apathy and moments of hostility. Through brief, fragmentary glimpses into their past lives, the novel reveals themes of regret and loss, underscoring the elusiveness of memory in a world that seems to have left its history behind. The narrative gradually illuminates the slow descent into societal collapse, with Hampson’s diary and his fixation on William Holman Hunt’s Pre-Raphaelite painting *The Light of the World* offering symbolic insight into the alien influence and environmental neglect that preceded the disaster.

Marnie’s reflections, expressed in letters to Tennent, underscore a central tension of the novel: whether humanity is truly victimized by the external iGhetti invasion or by its own failings—particularly the environmental and industrial mismanagement that accelerated decline. The book’s tone is marked by a blend of bleakness, dark humor, and unexpected empathy. Its conclusion offers a conventional resolution but leaves an open invitation for readers to consider the possibility of an ongoing, ambiguous present beyond the story’s apparent end.