Jack Foster's Reviews > Station Eleven
Station Eleven
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I am really struggling to understand what people like about this book. This book is terrible.
The characters are so poorly drawn. Arthur, a vapid movie star, who, based on his actions and numerous ex-wives is a shallow, benign sociopath who seems to drift from woman to woman without conscience. His existence as a movie star is dimly imagined as if through the lens of a person who only reads UsWeekly. His craft is only discussed inso far as to ruminate on celebrity (actors sacrifice privacy, paparazzi are opportunist scum, the money and glamour are ultimately unfulfilling: nothing illuminating here)
Miranda lives with some dude for a few years, wakes up one day decides to move in with a movie star she bed the night before and then becomes, apropos of no sort of instruction or schooling, based on a temp job, a shipping magnate (but only after discovering the right pair of shoes) and writes and draws in her spare time a graphic novel she never intends to publish, and most frustratingly, the author and nearly every character continually blur the distinction between comic *book* and comic *strip*. Then there's the gay guy who ends up marrying a woman, several members of a post-apocalyptic orchestra who are boilerplate and interchangeable (was there a difference between Deiter & August). Oh! And there's a guy who for a while is a paparazzo but only for a while before becoming an EMT cos that happens.
Then there's the apocalypse. If you are looking for a new or evolved spin on the end of the world plague story look elsewhere, survivors in this book do the same things you've already seen in a bunch of other (better) books: walk a lot, miss electricity and especially mobile devices, learn to hunt and fish and basically do everything you've probably already thought of yourself if you were ever high and wondered what would happen if the world ended in a great big plague.
The book lacks intelligence, none of the characters are especially engaging, the quality of the writing is strong in spots but not sufficient enough to excuse the very flimsy plotting & character work. This is easily one of the most disappointing books I've read in a long time. About halfway through I considered quitting it, after finishing it I wish I had, it never improved.
The characters are so poorly drawn. Arthur, a vapid movie star, who, based on his actions and numerous ex-wives is a shallow, benign sociopath who seems to drift from woman to woman without conscience. His existence as a movie star is dimly imagined as if through the lens of a person who only reads UsWeekly. His craft is only discussed inso far as to ruminate on celebrity (actors sacrifice privacy, paparazzi are opportunist scum, the money and glamour are ultimately unfulfilling: nothing illuminating here)
Miranda lives with some dude for a few years, wakes up one day decides to move in with a movie star she bed the night before and then becomes, apropos of no sort of instruction or schooling, based on a temp job, a shipping magnate (but only after discovering the right pair of shoes) and writes and draws in her spare time a graphic novel she never intends to publish, and most frustratingly, the author and nearly every character continually blur the distinction between comic *book* and comic *strip*. Then there's the gay guy who ends up marrying a woman, several members of a post-apocalyptic orchestra who are boilerplate and interchangeable (was there a difference between Deiter & August). Oh! And there's a guy who for a while is a paparazzo but only for a while before becoming an EMT cos that happens.
Then there's the apocalypse. If you are looking for a new or evolved spin on the end of the world plague story look elsewhere, survivors in this book do the same things you've already seen in a bunch of other (better) books: walk a lot, miss electricity and especially mobile devices, learn to hunt and fish and basically do everything you've probably already thought of yourself if you were ever high and wondered what would happen if the world ended in a great big plague.
The book lacks intelligence, none of the characters are especially engaging, the quality of the writing is strong in spots but not sufficient enough to excuse the very flimsy plotting & character work. This is easily one of the most disappointing books I've read in a long time. About halfway through I considered quitting it, after finishing it I wish I had, it never improved.
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Finished Reading
October 13, 2014
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Truth is stranger than fiction... I have a BA and MA in English Literature, and I'm planning to become a doctor of medicine!











Kirsten can throw knives like Katniss Everdeen slings arrows and has connections to just about every other character in the novel...but fails to emerge as a fully-rounded character. Apparently she still loves Sayid (why?) but so desperately misses Dieter after he's gone. Ok...but who was Dieter again? What about August?
Jack covered Miranda's character (or lack thereof in terms of plausibility), leaving the members of the Traveling Symphony, who are so underdeveloped that their survival becomes a non-issue. And their combination of Shakespeare and music performance only serves to further blur their features...or purpose.
Finally, the people at the airport. There are some vague mentions of their living circumstances and means of survival with the only memorable detail being Clark's 'museum,' but even that fails to become anything other than a quirky feature of their community.


I am 40 pages from the end and have been waiting since page 2 for it to be a real novel.






