Apocalypse Never

For the other side of the argument, check out Chris Schluep's entry Apocalypse Now.

Of all the questions we curious humans ask ourselves, the most potent begin with "What if…?" What if you were trapped on a desert island with only 10 albums? What if you had to choose between dying to save others and living while they perished? And the perennial literary favorite: What if most of the population/world/universe disappeared and only a handful of people survived? How would they handle it?

Wait—we're forgetting the most important question: Who freaking cares? It's sci-fi sacrilege to say, but I am seriously over the hypothetical apocalypse. Believe me, I crave escapism as much as anyone with a stack of bills and a 9-to-5 job. But I'm happy to find it in novels about folks who might reasonably exist, struggling through situations that might actually, you know, happen to them.

Following on the heels of ancient legend (see: Epic of Gilgamesh; Noah and his ill-fated dinghy), post-apocalyptic fiction isn't a new trend in modern literature. Starting in the late 1800s with Mary "Frankenstein" Shelley and her Last Man, writers have obsessed over what goes on in our squirrelly minds when our normal surroundings and routines are blown to bits. Seeing as stories can't exist without imagination, I understand this instinct. But it also seems like kind of a copout: Why do authors need to strip away all of society to figure out who people really are? For my money, it's a much greater feat to make a reader hold her breath as Muriel Glass (the hapless wife in J.D. Salinger’s Nine Stories) paints her nails, ignoring the ringing phone.

Granted, the apocalypse makes for a hell of a setting. Epic landscapes full of fire, craters, aliens, zombies, abandoned buildings, the occasional bloodthirsty straggler left to fend for himself. Ripe with possibility! Rife with symbolism! Relentlessly relentless! And so, so, so played out. Give me a gorgeously drawn, wickedly insightful day in the life of Jane Austen’s Emma Woodhouse or Zora Neale Hurston's Janie Crawford instead. Please.

With all due respect to Cormac McCarthy and his countless disciples, I’d like to recommend a selection of outstanding recent novels (and a handful of classics) that tackle immediate human concerns, rather than hinging on unrestrained viruses or Nostradamus-style prophecies. If you dive far enough into these imagined worlds, you won’t even notice the apocalypse raging outside.

Recent Picks
All Is Forgotten, Nothing Is Lost, Lan Samantha Chang: Foibles and desires disrupt a hallowed MFA program.
We Only Know So Much, Elizabeth Crane: A hilarious, biting romp through the psyche of a dysfunctional family.
The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out a Window and Disappeared, Jonas Jonasson: Facing death from natural causes rather than the end times, Allan Karlsson takes his last adventure.
Home, Toni Morrison: The spare, masterful story of a Korean War vet struggling to reconnect.
Love and Shame and Love, Peter Orner: The finest chronicle since Bellow's of a Chicago boy, born and raised.

Classic Picks
The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy: The original bumbling It Girl was ahead of her time.
So Long, See You Tomorrow, William Maxwell: A tiny gem of a mystery set in 1920s rural Illinois.
A Dance to the Music of Time, Anthony Powell: Yes, all 12 volumes—worth every lunch break.
Nine Stories, J.D. Salinger: There are eight other capital tales, but you'll never forget Esme.
Marjorie Morningstar, Herman Wouk: I reread Marjorie's feisty, moving life story at least once a year.

Comments

[readerlady on August 27, 2012 at 06:23 AM]

I disagree. The fictional apocalypse stories open up your imagination much farther than the apocalypse that is raging outside. There are so many potential scenarios that the fiction author can entertain in their stories that are much more interesting than politicians and big corp ruining the earth. We read to be entertained.
Off the wall scenarios, paranormal, religious (my fave) all can be entertaining. And we always love to pull for the survivors even though in those kind of books "happily ever after" is an impossibility.
One I enjoyed recently is the Life After War series by Angela White. Even with some sketchy editing and some implausibility I really enjoyed the world building or world destruction rather, that the author wrote. I think it's a self published series but it was meaty and moved along at a good pace that kept me entertained for days.

[Mia Lipman on August 28, 2012 at 11:14 AM]

Thanks for sharing, readerlady - glad to hear you're enjoying the Angela White series. To each her own, as long as we're all reading!

[E. Robison on August 31, 2012 at 09:39 AM]

Hal Lindsey's "Late, Great Planet Earth" was a best-seller in the 70s and scared many readers back then (although in retrospect it is funny that people took it so seriously), and some of us grew up in the Cold War era with nuclear bomb drills being held in school. I think that's why this type of book still holds our imaginations. Also, there are competing ideas being played out in readers' minds: on the one hand, there's the thought that things are too good to last (we are so wealthy/healthy/at ease compared to previous generations), while on the other hand there's the idea that society is rapidly heading to hell in a handbasket. I recently read an apocalyptic-type novel called "Hade's Gambit" and had a blast living in the authors' version of "the end of the world as we know it" ... so while, for the most part, I love subtley (I just put "Nine Stories" on hold after reading this article) sometimes a good old-fashioned jolt to the system gets the adrenaline and thought moving faster than subtlety.

[Mia Lipman on August 31, 2012 at 11:31 AM]

Excellent call on ordering Nine Stories, E. Hope you enjoy it! There may be less adrenalin involved, but it's just as thought-provoking as the end of the world.