In Emily St. John Mandel’s STATION ELEVEN, a new swine flu sweeps the planet, killing 99% of humanity and leaving a dazed few to live in the ruins and hopefully rebuild. On the plus side, the writing is beautiful, with snappy dialogue and engaging characterization. On the negative side, all of the characters connect through a central character who dies before the apocalypse begins, and whose story, largely irrelevant, occurs solely in the past, resulting in a tale that feels disjointed and never quite comes together.

Obviously, I had mixed feelings about this one, though overall I liked it quite a bit. The story begins when Arthur, a Hollywood A-lister now playing King Lear onstage in Toronto, dies of a heart attack. Through him, we are introduced to a number of other people, some of whom survive the impending viral apocalypse, some who don’t. A second thread tying many of the characters together is their exposure to a limited-edition comic, a labor of love produced by Arthur’s first wife, called STATION ELEVEN, about people living on an Earth-like space station in deep space after their planet is taken over by aliens. Some of these people are now with the Traveling Symphony, a traveling acting and musical troupe trying to keep art alive in the post-apocalyptic world.

Much of the book is devoted to Arthur’s life and relationships, which connect the characters so delicately in the past and present that it feels overly designed, except for one major character we’re introduced to at the beginning, who disappears for much of the book and oddly never interacts with the others. So those looking for literary fiction with a genre twist a la Margaret Atwood are likely to be delighted with STATION ELEVEN, while those looking for apocalyptic fiction with a literary twist may be disappointed, as this story leans heavily to the literary. While there are so many things that could have be done with keeping music and theater alive in a post-apocalyptic world, this theme largely goes unexplored. I can’t help but wonder what the novel would have been like if it had been about a musician or actor in the Traveling Symphony, past and present, rather than an actor who dies before the apocalypse. The climax, such as it is, passes by in a flash, and the story wistfully peters out at the end without any major thematic or other statement.

That being said, wow, what a writer. STATION ELEVEN is beautifully written. The dialogue is punchy, the lonely atmosphere in which people crave human connection and a meaningful life is wonderful, the characters are all interesting, and the way humanity goes out with a whimper is engaging. In every scene, the author made me care. Overall, I quite liked it for what I received from it. I just wish it had more strongly tied together, particularly in regards to plot and to an extent theme, and told a more coherent story.

Autumn Christian’s existential-dystopian nightmare CROOKED GOD MACHINE is unflinching in its dark portrayal of a planet oppressed by an insane God. It’s as if David Lynch said no fiction could outweird ERASHERHEAD, and Christian said, hold my beer.

The result is something bizarro, something horror, something philosophical and religious. When I started reading it, I snagged on the weird elements and wondered whether my willing suspension of disbelief was up for the investment, but the story keeps turning up the weird volume until by the end it goes well beyond 11, and it wasn’t long before I was thoroughly hooked on this bleak drug.

So here’s the story. Charles is a good man hoping to love and be loved in a world ruled by a God intent on punishing his subjects and soon ending it. Monsters roam the woods, vast machines wreak Biblical havoc in scheduled plagues, Hell shuttles round up people to send below based on quotas, and God screams from the TV all day when a show isn’t on promoting implants that keep the body active while the brain passes into a decade-long sleep. As the world slowly ends all around him, Charles sets out to resist and finally confront God based on secret knowledge that this was all not what was intended by the original creators.

The story is titillating in its uncompromising weirdness and destruction of sanity, but it’s pretty bleak, though a counterpoint to nihilism is expressed as hope even if it’s undeserved. While Christian’s world is clearly insane and seemingly random, there’s a strange internal logic to the story that ties it together and infuses it with meaning. The result is a dark and titillating read that’s strangely fun. My only big criticism is the story would benefit from editing, as there are numerous typos, missing words, etc. that might distract some readers.

If you think you might dig a strong fusion of bizarro and horror, check it out.

David Moody brings his HATER series into a spectacular landing with CHOKEHOLD, coming out from St. Martin’s Griffin November 19, 2019.

I first read HATER back when David was self-publishing his zombie fiction in PDFs, and fell in love with it. In this apocalyptic novel, a dormant genetic switch flips in a third of humanity, making them terrified and hateful of the other two-thirds, resulting in a string of homicides that snowballs into an all-out war. The novel has a twist in the last act as powerful as the end of WOOL. After HATER was optioned by Guillermo del Toro, St. Martin’s brought the book to print along with a series that ended up spanning six books.

In the first trilogy, we follow a Hater, while in the second, we follow Matt, one of the Unchanged. CHOKEHOLD follows the fall of nuclear bombs that have turned the UK into a wasteland. In the ruins, the last Unchanged survive in a fortress, while rival armies of Haters head toward them for a final showdown. Matt must navigate all this hate and try to survive on his own until finally making a choice to try to help them all survive.

David gave CHOKEHOLD his best writing in the series, tying all the characters and plots from the previous books together into a satisfying conclusion. Throughout the series, the main characters had their choices made for them by rapidly changing circumstances. In this last episode, they make the own choices, right or wrong, for hate or redemption, and even those who don’t make it expire knowing their death meant something. And for all its bleakness and violence, the series finishes on a small note of hope.

I can’t recommend David’s work enough, whether it’s his groundbreaking HATER series of his powerful AUTUMN series. I’ve stuck with both over a decade, and now I can’t wait to see what David comes up with next.