Book Reviewsscience fiction

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel #bookreviews

station 11-1

Last month I put out an appeal here and via Twitter for recommendations of books that would help me break through my aversion to science fiction. One book was mentioned over and over again: Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel.  I’m not going to promise that this book has made be a sci-fi convert but if this is a taste of what’s available then I can certainly see me reading more in that line in the future.

Usually when I hear a novel is set in a dystopian or post-apocalyptic world, my reaction is akin to that of encountering the most fetid smell possible. But Mandel’s imagined world, while disintegrated, degraded and thoroughly unpleasant, is recognisable enough for me to feel it could still be real. The characters’ names for one thing are largely realistic — admittedly one of them is called Jeevan which is not a name I’ve ever heard of before, but you can’t get much more down to earth than Arthur and Clark. The locations are also real with most of the action taking place in Toronto, Chicago and the shores of Lakes Huron and Michigan.  And then the opening scene takes me to a very familiar experience, that of being in the theatre watching a performance of King Lear. The combination of those realities made it possible for me to accept the disruptive elements of Station Eleven more readily.

Mantel begins with a personal tragedy. Part way through a performance of King Lear, the renowned Hollywood actor Arthur Leander collapses. Despite the efforts of Jeevan, a trainee paramedic, and a cardiologist, both of whom who were in the audience, he dies. Tragedy on a considerably vaster scale follows quickly via a flu pandemic so virulent its victims die within 48 hours. In a few short weeks Georgia Flu sweeps across the globe and claims the lives of 99.99 per cent of the world’s population. The few survivors must learn to live without power, mechanised transport or antibiotics. The world, as they have come to know it, exists no more.

No more pharmaceuticals. No more certainty of surviving a scratch on one’s hand, a cut on a finger while chopping vegetables for dinner, a dog bite. …  No more fire departments, no more police. No more road maintenance or garbage pick up.

As bleak as this sounds, Mantel can’t resist a touch of humour for the results of the lack of power is a world sans the Internet and social media:

… no more scrolling through litanies of dreams and nervous hopes and photographs of lunches, cries for help and expressions of contentment and relationship-status updates with heart icons whole or broken, plans to meet up later, pleas, complaints, desires, pictures of babies dressed as bears or peppers for Halloween. No more reading and commenting on the lives of others, and in so doing, feeling slightly less alone in the room. No more avatars.

The narrative hops forward from Day 1 to Year 20 of the virus. The survivors have formed small settlements in abandoned towns and empty shopping malls and factories, forever fearful of armed bandits who roam the land.

Civilisation in Year Twenty was an archipelago of small towns. These towns had fought off ferals, buried their neighbours, lied and died and suffered together in the blood-drenched years just after the collapse, survived against unspeakable odds and then only by holding together into the calm. These places didn’t go out of their way to welcome outsiders.

One of the most interesting aspects of this novel for me was the way Mandel deals with individual responses to the calamity. Some hunker down in isolated properties living off whatever they can hunt; others take to religion and follow prophet-like figures bent on absolute power. Some never give up hope that out there, somewhere, something of normality survives. In Traverse City an inventor rigs up an electrical system to a stationary bicycle that when pedaled furiously could power a laptop and help him find the Internet. Over in Chicago pilots use their last fuel supplies for reconnaissance trips outside the city where they might find food and supplies. They never return. One of the more unusual responses comes in the form of The Travelling Symphony:  a group of 20 or so musicians and actors in horse-drawn wagons who move between settlements staging concerts and theatrical performances wherever they stop. Why? The answer lies in the message painted on the side of their lead wagon:  “Because Survival is Insufficient.”

For many of these people the past is recalled only in fragments. Kirsten, an actress with the symphony, was eight at the time of the outbreak. Her mother’s face has grown vague over the years but she remembers clearly the actor Arthur Leander because she was there, on stage with him, the night he died. She’s made a habit of collecting information about him that she finds in deserted houses during her travels. Photos with actresses outside restaurants, gossip column pieces about his repeated failed marriages and reviews of his films; all are kept safe in her zip-lock bag. Also in the bag are two  issues of a comic-book series featuring a character called Dr. Eleven, a physicist who lives on a space station after escaping an alien takeover of Earth.

A very different response to the past is shown by a survivor holed up in the airport. Clark Thompson, friend of Arthur Leander,  begins collecting some of the items abandoned because in the new world order, they are useless. He discovers there is no end to the number of objects that had no practical purpose but people want to preserve nevertheless : credit cards; Nintendo consoles; drivers’ licences; passports; cellphones; laptops; car engines and a gleaming chrome motor cycle; even a pair of red stiletto heels. All become the basis for the Museum of Civilization, a museum of artefacts to teach people born into the new world, about the old world.

But what of the future? It would have been easy for Mandel to end the novel with a sense that the apocalypse is nearing its end. Too easy and far too neat a resolution. Instead she leaves us with a feeling that a major collapse might have crippled the world, but has not ruined it as long as there are people alive who retain hope:

If there are again towns with streetlights, if there are symphonies and newspapers, then what else might this awakening world contain? Perhaps vessels are setting out even now, traveling toward or away from him, steered by sailors armed with maps and knowledge of the stars, driven by need or perhaps simply by curiosity: whatever became of the countries on the other side?

The combination of beautiful style of writing  and a compelling narrative made this a book I found hard to put down.
About the Book:

Station Eleven is Emily St. John Mandel’s fourth novel. Published in 2014 it was long listed for the National Book Award.

About the author:

Emily St John Mandel was born in Canada. Her second novel, The Singer’s Gun was the 2014 winner of the Prix Mystere de la Critique in France. She is a staff writer for The Millions. She lives in New York City with her husband.

Why I read this book:

It was recommended by several book bloggers who have far more knowledge of science fiction than I possess. This was the first of their recommended authors that I could find in the local library.


What do you need to know about me? 1. I'm from Wales which is one of the countries in the UK and must never be confused with England. 2. My life has always revolved around the written and spoken word. I worked as a journalist for nine years then in international corporate communications 3. My tastes in books are eclectic. I love realism and hate science fiction and science fantasy. 4. I am trying to broaden my reading horizons geographically by reading more books in translation

30 thoughts on “Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel #bookreviews

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  • I need to try this one again. I tried in audio, and it didn’t work for me, with the long flashbacks, but shouldn’t be a problem in print

    • I can imagine it would be hard to keep track of the narrative in audio form

  • buriedinprint

    I hope your happy surprise with this one encourages others to stretch beyond the everyday kind of reading (whatever that means for each of us) as well. I still think back to the “airport” scenes in this one: so very well paced and crafted!

    • I enjoyed the descriptions of how they raided all the shops and vending machines for food…

  • I’m so glad you liked this!
    “One of the most interesting aspects of this novel for me was the way Mandel deals with individual responses to the calamity.” This is also what I like best when I read any kind of dystopian novel.

    • I don’t have the experience you do of reading these books but I can imagine any author dealing with this kind of world would have to include something on how people deal the disaster.

  • Maybe if I were short of books to read and wanted to branch out from my usual interests in reading… but I’m not and I don’t … so I won’t!

  • Ah, glad you liked this. (Jeevan is an Indian name, by the way; the character’s last name is Chaudhury, also Indian. Toronto has more than half of Canada’s entire population of Indian immigrant families—I think he’s probably meant to be second- or third-generation.)

    • Thanks for,that insight Ellie, I missed his surname. I wonder why so many Indian families went to Toronto?

      • Good question – my knowledge is limited, but I think in the 1960s a Canadian policy of multiculturalism made immigration easier, and there was already a small Sikh community in Vancouver from the start of the twentieth century (not clear why they decided on Canada back then, though!)

    • I suspect some will say it’s a cross over book rather than pure sci fi but I don’t care. I enjoyed it regardless

  • The fact that these events could happen, or that post-apocalyptic worlds could be in our future due to the bad choices of those in power…keep me from reading these books. While this one sounds tempting, and it is very popular…I think I’ll stick to books that make me feel good. Thrillers, police procedurals, etc. LOL.

    Thanks for sharing. Great review!

    • Dont you find some thrillers also portray events that could happen?

  • I’m not that keen on post apocalyptic novels, probably because I think some of those scenarios could happen.

    • A virus could happen – well it did didn’t it with Sars though not on the same scale as the one in this book. The possibility that this could happen was part of the fun for me.

  • I own a copy of this and have been meaning to get to it for ages (sound familiar?). I’m very like you when it comes to science fiction and dystopia, but this really does seem to be a crossover novel in the best sense and your review reminds me to put it back in the queue!

    • If this had more science stuff in it and more fantastical elements I doubt I would have read to the end.

  • Teresa Pitt

    This book sounds fascinating, Lisa – your review has persuaded me to read it, even though, like you, I’m not normally a fan of SF and fantasy. By the way, re the names Arthur and Clark, I assume you’ve heard of the famous SF author Arthur C. Clarke? These names are probably a homage to him.

    • I didnt spot that connection to the great man of SF…..

  • I have the same reaction as you towards sci-fi and dystopian worlds but if you enjoyed this, I might like it too. It does sound intriguing! Great review!

    • Maybe the people who love ‘pure’ SF wouldn’t think much of this but I enjoyed it.

  • I really would like to read this – dystopia and Shakespeare? What’s not to love!

    • One of the earliest scenes has the cast running their lines as they walk to their next destination. I dont think I’ve ever heard of a rehearsal quite like that before…


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