Getting this in just under the wire for tomorrow. Hopefully I have some time tomorrow to jump into the discussion. Or lurk. I’m good at lurking.
I’m sure by now, most know the basic premise of this book – deadly flu wipes out a lot of the population and years later, humanity is still trying to survive. As far as dead horses and the beating there of, it’s a genre that’s been heavily explored, especially if you count zombie apocalypses into the equation. But for all the previously trodden ground, Emily St. John Mandel manages to make Station Eleven refreshing, enlightening and enjoyable. Even with all the inconveniences of living in a post endemic scourged world, St. John Mandel created a world I would very much like to visit. (But not stay. I like the internet and Moe’s queso too much to live in a world where I could remember them, but not experience them anymore.)
There’s not a lot of cohesion to the other things I thought about this book, especially since several others have put forth much more eloquent reviews. So here’s some scattered random thoughts!
1. One point of irritation: She does such a remarkable job at making sure this world works – gasoline has an expiration date, people die from tetanus, etc. But then, there’s a clarinet player in the Traveling Symphony. Where is she getting reeds at?! Reeds are necessary to play a clarinet and also fragile things. Okay, maybe they looted a music store and got a stockpile, but still. I could barely keep a reed in passable condition for one week in marching band.
2. Miranda was hands down my favorite character. I loved that she did her own thing (the Station Eleven graphic novel) and really didn’t care if someone understood it or not. She was doing art because it made her happy, because she wanted to, because art doesn’t need a reason.
3. If they ever made this into a movie, Arthur would probably be played by Leonardo DiCaprio. And he wouldn’t win an Oscar for it.
4. Jeevan’s character seemed to be a bit superfluous. Everyone’s story pretty much concluded in the same geographical location, except for him. He just seems like a loose end that didn’t get as neatly tied up as I would’ve liked.
5. Between this and Cloud Atlas, I’m really starting to have anxiety about what lasting legacy I’m leaving to the world and who’s tornado I’m causing by flapping my butterfly wings. It’s heavy stuff. I’m not as prepared to grow old as I thought my old soul would be.