This novel by Emily St John Mandel, set in Canada, veers between the time before a pandemic that wipes out most of the world’s population, to a time after. In the time before we get to know Arthur Leander, a celebrity actor and Miranda, his first wife. We also follow another young man whose emergency ward doctor friend tips him off that the flu epidemic is the big one, so he stocks up and holds out with his brother in a high rise flat, before he, like most of the other survivors, hits the road to find other people and a new way of life.
Meanwhile, in the post pandemic world we follow the experiences of Kirsten, a twenty something woman, who has joined a travelling symphony and acting troupe that journey around the small settlements that have set up around a lake, and perform Shakespeare and give the odd classical music concert. I like the idea that St John Mandel evokes of the world reverting to something like it must have been in medieval times in small settlements – staying put, hardly knowing what lies beyond walking distance.
The Station Eleven of the title is not, as one might expect, the name of one of these settlements – but it’s the name of a fictional space station veering out of control in space. The character, Miranda, is drawing this graphic novel as a way of coping with her life, and one way or another, too complicated to outline here, this book influences and links some of the disparate characters in the post-pandemic plotline.
The main tension driver in this stream of the novel is the figure of ‘The Prophet’ – who, of course, tells his followers they were saved for a reason, that they are part of the light (sound familiar?) but like many of the cult leaders we now about, his power goes to his head and he uses vicious means to keep his followers (and child brides) under his control. The Prophet is after the travelling symphony for inadvertently harbouring one of these girls who has stowed away in their wagon.
I was so disappointed in this book. It had so much potential but it is a mishmash and totally confused in what it is attempting to say. Why, oh, why is about a third of the book given over to the rise of Arthur Leander as a celebrity actor? Yes, he starts out as nice young man trying to find his way who stumbles on fame, and, yes, we’re happy when he finds Miranda and they fall in love. Miranda, to me, is one of the most interesting characters, especially as the imaginer of the Station Eleven world, yet she is given short shrift. Arthur pretty quickly has an affair with another woman and divorces Miranda. We don’t find out much of her post-Arthur life. Is St John Mantel trying to say something about the idiocy of celebrity culture? But, if so, what? The main thing about Arthur is that all the characters that sit around a dinner party table one night are linked in some (very tenuous) way in the story, but I can’t see that this really mattered, or has any particular meaning beyond providing some glue for the novel.
In parts, this novel is great – I loved the travelling symphony idea with their credo ‘survival is not sufficient’, I liked the description of the post-pandemic world, and thought the portrayal of the pandemic was effective and affecting. I so hoped that Miranda with her artist’s eye would become our heroine, but she doesn’t. As for Arthur Leander, I couldn’t care less about him and have no idea why he was the main character. It’s all very confusing but there’s enough in there to make an absorbing read, if you quickly flick over the Arthur bits.