Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
- bearallen81
- Aug 20, 2015
- 2 min read
I was completely absorbed in this book from cover to cover (or track to track... I was listening to it on audiobook. Note: the narrator was great!). I have always been a total sucker for post-pandemic-restarting-civilization tales since the first time I picked up Stephen King's The Stand at 9 years old and had my mind BLOWN. This book was even more fascinating as we got a great inner look into how different groups of survivors chose to rebuild society. When I put the final disc in, I was more bummed at the prospect of the end than I have been in a long time. This shit is my JAM and I didn't want it to end... EVER!
I also learned that all of my completely and totally ignoring world news will work to my benefit. The character who had the best luck and ended up in the best position was the guy who had ignored all news of the pandemic. So clearly, my "strategy" of overlooking the world around me is going to save my life some day. You all should follow my lead... you know, just in case the Georgia Flu kills us all! And P.S. We're all going to live in the airport. Yay for mini bottles of liquor!
Synopsis:
Kirsten Raymonde will never forget the night Arthur Leander, the famous Hollywood actor, had a heart attack on stage during a production of"King Lear."That was the night when a devastating flu pandemic arrived in the city, and within weeks, civilization as we know it came to an end.
Twenty years later, Kirsten moves between the settlements of the altered world with a small troupe of actors and musicians. They call themselves The Traveling Symphony, and they have dedicated themselves to keeping the remnants of art and humanity alive. But when they arrive in St. Deborah by the Water, they encounter a violent prophet who will threaten the tiny band's existence. And as the story takes off, moving back and forth in time, and vividly depicting life before and after the pandemic, the strange twist of fate that connects them all will be revealed.
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