Mitchell Stephens, the admittedly angry New York City negligence lawyer from Banks' "The Sweet Hereafter" runs through a litany of societal problems that have caused a blinding fissure between generations. "We have lost our children," he says, and though he blames drugs and the "sexual colonization of our young people by industry," he is too logical to attempt to focus his anger at vague ideas. Instead, he mounts angry cases against the cities, counties and states from which the children disappear. We see that his true occupation is avoiding the sorrow and guilt he feels because of the "loss" of his own daughter.
When children are lost, parents are left in a sort of amoral timelessness, without history or perspective. The future disappears, and suddenly everything is permitted. The freedom is lonely and terrifying, and parents, in an attempt flee back to the world of rules and consequences, turn their grief outward where it mutates into blame.
But "The Sweet Hereafter" is more than an examination of grief and culpability. The novel investigates the communities that arise when anger and blame are the primary means of social currency. By the end of the book we find ourselves within questions much larger than the individual lives involved, and though we are sad that two characters must be martyred, we are relieved, because we know that martyrs couldn't exist without the morality we thought we'd lost. Even the martyrs find can solace in an understanding their of roles: they are proof of redemption.