Station Eleven: National Book Award Finalist

Çok karmaşık değil ama yetişkinler için bir post apokaliptik macera kitabı, kronolojik gitmemesi kitabın çok hoş, dili de ağır değil.

Before anything, I have to say that I truly enjoyed reading this book. I hold no reservations in recommending it to anyone out there who is looking for a relatively easy read that packs an emotional punch and makes a point. I give it four stars because I believe that while creating depth in most of her characters the author somehow forgot to make a cohesive plot-line, which made the text fragmented, and at times the story suffered.

What makes Station Eleven (SE) an enjoyable read is the ease with which events are described. This is not an intense, end-of-the-world, “oh woe is us”, apocalyptic story. Anyone who is looking for that, can find it in A Canticle for Leibowitz, Alas, Babylon, or more recently Wool, World War Z and The Road. Here you won’t find a detailed and scientifically laborious effort on how things ended and how people are getting by in the aftermath. Instead, you will understand a lot more of the human psyche when the technologically-aided (and I should say, “taken for granted)” life ends and a new measure of survival emerges. This new existence is not unimaginatively brutish; but think more like pre-industrial revolution, somewhat Amish, agrarian society where a few can eke out an existence by being wandering Shakespearean minstrels.

This story is mostly about the characters, not much about the events or the answers. These are not exceptional people, they are not heroes set out to change/save the world. To me, and this is important, the characters are not caricatures of human qualities. In fact, what I found to be very endearing is that most of them are just people, who by stroke of luck in their actions, locations or genetics survive a pandemic and must adapt to a suddenly vacant, unsafe world. By using a constant barrage of flashbacks and intermittent plot-lines, the author drives home the point of the fragility of our current condition and the banality of our modern existence. It presents the reader with a “before and after” which is easy to grasp and so very easy to appreciate. The story does not veer clear of sensitive topics such as exploitation by force majeure or religion, rather it blends these concepts in with the rest of the main themes (art, compassion and community) without being overly concerned about their impact in the post-flu world. There is plenty of action and a nice sprinkle of mystery, but the main draw is the comparison, nearly page-to-page, of the world that is gone and how humanity is not lost just because a smart-phone no longer turns on.

There are a few things in SE which are just not up to par. I find Arthur to be a weak central figure for this story and his constant involvement hurts the plot. He is supposedly this focal character around which most of the “before and after” characters revolve, but he is monochrome at best. I see in him a cookie-cutter amalgamation of modern celebrity, so then why focus on him? Why construct a biopic as well as a family tree on a guy who defines dull? Arthur’s wives on the other hand are very interesting and so is Kirsten, so maybe the author is better at writing female characters. There are some contradictory aspects that just seem to be a bit too glaring. One example is the dagger tattoos. Here is an author who makes such a strong argument against triviality of modernity and the emptiness of vanity, but feels the need to revert to prison-yard logic for keeping track of how many people the dangerous thespians have killed…c’mon, really…at least come up with a better mechanism, because anyone capable of making tattoos would be one one powerful person in the post-flu world, probably even more powerful than the blond prophet.

These minor details aside, Station Eleven was the best book I have read thus far this summer. Recommended!

Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven is a masterful exploration of humanity’s sense of self-preservation and survival, the power of art, and the connections that bind us. At the heart of this novel is Kirsten Raymonde, whose journey from childhood to adulthood in a post-apocalyptic world is inspiring.
Introduced as a young actress in the final performance of King Lear before the Georgia Flu pandemic devastates civilization, Kirsten is thrust into a wild world. Yet, even amidst the collapse of society, her passion for the arts remains undiminished. This duality—her will to live and her dedication to preserving art—defines her character and provides the novel with a heart.
As a member of the Travelling Symphony, Kirsten traverses the remnants of civilization, performing Shakespearean plays for scattered communities. The Symphony’s motto, “Survival is insufficient,” taken from an episode of Star trek Voyager, encapsulates the belief that life must be about more than mere survival; it must also encompass the richness of human experience, creativity, and connection.
Kirsten’s journey is marked by her quest to piece together her fragmented memories of the past, particularly those of her time with the actor Arthur Leander, whose death coincides with the pandemic’s onset and who’s the connection between all characters even if he’s dead. He’s also the link with the comic book Station Eleven by Miranda Carroll, the first of Arthur’s ex-wives. This narrative thread underscores the novel’s theme of the interconnectedness of all human lives, even in the face of societal collapse.
Mandel’s portrayal of Kirsten is nuanced and deeply human. Her strength and vulnerability, her moments of reflection and action, create a character who is both relatable and heroic. Kirsten’s growth throughout the novel, from a child struggling to understand a shattered world to a woman determined to find meaning within it, is profoundly moving.

Station Eleven is a triumph of literary fiction. Mandel’s exquisite prose and richly layered narrative make this novel a must-read for anyone seeking a story that beautifully balances despair and hope, isolation and connection, destruction and creation.

Me encantó este libro, a pesar de ser una distopía guarda esperanza, amor, suspenso, de todo. Varias historias unidas por un mismo hilo, y dadas las circunstancias actuales de pandemia, uno puede evitar quedar agradecido, podía haber sido peor.