Post-apocalyptic rebuild in Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel

As you all know, I’m a sucker for an end-of-the-world dystopia but not for a while have I found one quite so compelling and so real. We start out at the theatre, where a movie star named Arthur dies in a shocking ‘tragedy’, just before the Georgian flu starts to spread, a global pandemic with a rapid, 99% death rate. It makes you think: what sort of death is tragic?  What really matters? What is humanity without its trappings? How lucky was Arthur to die when the world was still in order?

I’ve seen reviews criticising the ‘world building’ in this dystopia but in my opinion that is part of its beauty: we never really get an overview of what’s happened to the world. Instead we experience this new world order, or disorder, from very personal, provincial points of view, flitting between people with tenuous links to Arthur, in a way that emphasises how small the world might feel without mass communications and long distance connections. We know we’re only hearing about a tiny snapshot of the post-flu civilisation. And that’s okay. 

If I have two criticisms about the realism of this world, I wonder at remaining humankind’s lack of capitalist tendencies and practical skills. But in general this felt real, I felt in the action, I loved several of the characters and after reading quite a lot of gung ho action dystopias of late, it was nice to find such a nuanced balance of compelling plot, charismatic characters, contemplative thoughtfulness, and a healthy helping of nuanced symbolism (the book title refers to the art that eschews mass replication, yet outlasts both technology and superficial celebrity and touches the hearts of two key characters). The book is really more philosophy than action – but don’t let that put you off.

In conclusion, I’m not sure I’d do well at the end of this particular world, but I rather hope I end up in an airport with my wife. This is one of my top reads of the year so far.

Rating: 5/5 shoes

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