Relief from Dystopian Fiction

It seems that the majority of novels I have been reading lately have been visions of a dystopian, post-apocalyptic world. Among them were Our Missing Hearts, by Celeste Ng, The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, and 2034: A Novel of the Next World War, by Elliot Ackerman and Admiral James Stavridis. I think perhaps I have been gravitating toward this genre because the real world is so awful It is easier to read a fictionalized version than the morning newspaper.

Octavia Butler’s novel was particularly chilling because the events of the novel, which take place in 2027, were imagined by Butler in 1993, yet did not seem at all imaginary today. Similarly, it was hard to remember that “The Next World War” described in 2034, published last year, is, in fact , a novel, and not a chronicle of current events.       

To escape these terrifying glimpses of reality, I decided to binge watch the last season of Sanditon, a PBS Masterpiece Theater series based on Jane Austen’s unfinished last novel. After the penultimate episode, I told a friend that there were five intertwined love stories, every one of which seemed to be thwarted. But, as I expected, each of them had a happy ending: the Antiguan heiress marries her first love and will use her money to benefit former slaves; the King’s mistress refuses to heed his summons and will stay with the man she loves; the gay men will be true to each other and themselves; the couple who have rediscovered each other in old age will be happy together by living apart; and the plucky heroine will choose happiness and true love over the marriage that was expected of her.      

It was fun while it lasted – at least until the next day’s news.