Station Eleven and the Power of Art for the Human Soul

3.5 Stars

Who I would recommend it to:

Finding a good and interesting book is one of life's greatest joys. There is an even greater element of fun when it is a book you stumbled upon by chance and wouldn't have read it otherwise. I don't usually gravitate toward dystopian novels - of course, I've read a handful I've loved, like The Giver, but sometimes the world-building takes away from the story for me - but I was glad when I found it to be my summer assignment for AP Literature Class. The plot sounded intriguing and, as a theater kid myself, the main characters being actors was something I was particularly excited about. When I heard it was set in Canada, the Anne of Green Gables nerd within me couldn't wait to get her hands on a copy.Station Eleven is the Love, Actually of dystopian novels, but with time jumps, more sickness and death, and less civilization. Emily St. John Mandel sets her novel in a reality where a deathly pandemic has plagued civilization and only a few survived. It follows many intertwining stories of artists before, during, and after the height of the pandemic who are all related in some way to the Canadian film star Arthur Leander. St. John Mandel expertly connects each character and manages to completely develop each, an impressive feat for having so many. I personally was not the biggest empathizer with most of the characters, however. It may be because we spent chunks of the book with each before moving on to another, but most of their plights ended up annoying me in some way. My favorite storyline was Clark. Maybe it was because Clark's arc was during the beginning of the pandemic and we watched him build the Museum of Civilization, which fascinated me the most, but I liked his role in the book and what he stood for. Kirsten, for example, bored me the most and it might have been because I did not enjoy the post-pandemic world as much as the pre and the world-building was too slow for me. I did not enjoy how long it took for the symphony to go from place to place and for everything they were doing to be explained. I preferred hearing about the characters' lives in the civilized world rather than the post-apocalyptic. St. John Mandel won me over with her words rather than her characters. Her writing style is flowing and beautiful. Her diction was always on point. Thus, even when I was not enjoying the action, I marveled at the descriptions.The time jumps were also expertly done. There was a real sense of closure at the end of the book as all the loose ends were tied up through the story of the man who started it all: Arthur Leander. Once Kirsten began having most of the action in the book, the pace significantly slowed for the full explanation of the post-pandemic world, but it is worth it for the ending. The second half shines as we finally understand Arthur and Tyler's lives and motives.I think something else that makes a book especially enjoyable is discussing it with other readers. There is nothing that enriches the reading experience more than hearing other people's interpretations (except for maybe visiting the book's setting, which would be hard for a great part of this particular one.) Fortunately, I read it along with my literature class, and so I had oodles of discussions and opportunities for research.I particularly focused on the use of art in the novel. There is a reoccurring motif in the book of "survival is insufficient," a quote from Star Trek. Much like in my favorite animated movie, Wall-e, the humans in this pot-apocalyptic era realize they must find meaning in a world where the Anthropocene has been wiped to dust.I was interested in the way the characters found meaning in art. First of all, was the people's interest in Shakespeare. Shakespeare's plays, under all of their comedy and tragedy, deal with simple, emotional situations that are still universal experiences. Adding on the layer of nostalgia to the classic texts, Shakespeare would have been a great reminder of what the world used to be like while relating to their presents as well.The Traveling Symphony is another great example in the book. Music carries emotions in its rhythm and the nuances of the sound. It has the power to calm us down and relax us. For example, Kirsten and August had just made it to the Sevren City Airport, after many hardships on their way, yet to celebrate their arrival and reunion with Charlie and Jeremy, they played music: "There was music that night, August with Charlie and the sixth guitar... Charlie played the cello with her eyes closed, smiling." As they say, survival is insufficient. The way they live is through their art. Through their music.Art has become their only way of self-expression in this post-apocalyptic world. With only their music to rely on, the musicians in the symphony became one with their instruments. For example, all of the players went by the name of their instrument, like Jeremy, who was the sixth guitar. Their instruments became part of their identity, and even when one was lost, their identity remained: "there weren't actually seven guitars in the symphony, but the guitarists had a tradition of not changing their numbers when another guitarist died or left, so that currently the symphony roster included guitars four, seven, and eight." Viola even began going by the name of her instrument.So maybe we should look at the symphony differently. We read it as a group of people who play music, but a symphony is also defined as the piece of music itself, not the group playing it. Music, and all of the arts, are vessels of joy, empathy, and hope. The symphony is the people within it. The Conductor, the sixth guitar, Viola the viola, and all the others are unique human beings who together spread the harmonious message of hope to the other survivors in this post-apocalyptic world, for the sake of art itself.They are the music that gives their lives meaning. The way they live and not only survive.

Quick Facts:

Genre: Dystopian

POV: Third Person Omniscient

Cover review:

I don't really get it except for the knives. 1 star.