I'm not ready to read about pandemics. That's what I learned, in accidentally reading two books about pandemics. Seems like something I would have known earlier, right?
Continuing on my quest to read more literary fantasy, next I picked up Station Eleven (2014) by Emily St. John Mandel. Again, I had no idea that this was a pandemic book. I thought Station Eleven was a sci-fi novel.
Where The Beginning At The End was a wistful look at human fear and decency, Station Eleven was a horrifying glimpse into what could still come to pass, if we continue to allow COVID to mutate by avoiding vaccinations. Reading Station Eleven at the start of the Omicron wave felt a little bit like reading the Parable of the Sower in April 2020. Delicious, gripping, and nightmare-inducing.
What I liked about Station Eleven was how much the narrative felt like a dance. The author moved us from scene to scene, from character to place and back in time. Each addition added a new layer of context to the character's decisions, even as the story itself fluttered around in your head. The non-linear structure was inspiring, even as I couldn't tell you what the actual plot was about. I loved it, and I can't wait to try something similar. I doubt that I could pull it off, but this book opened up a new door of ways to tell a story, and have it stick.
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