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It is 1963, and a nuclear war has devastated most of the planet. In Melbourne, relatively untouched, a handful of survivors wait for the winds to bring the radiation to their shore, occupying themselves more or less usefully, if such a thing can be said to have any meaning at the end of the world, as others investigate what may be a message from a survivor in Seattle. A moving, if not particularly scientifically sound, classic. It’s two hundred years after “the Blast,” and in Moscow the snow is always falling. Benedikt is just glad not to have any major mutations, and a job, which is to transcribe the “speeches” of the wasteland’s leader, which are actually plagiarized from old books, not a single one of which Benedikt has ever read. Until, that is, he meets the Oldeners, whose secret libraries will change everything for him. You don’t find out that Planet of the Apes is a post-apocalyptic novel, and not just a science fiction novel about another world, until the end of the book. (Sorry for not warning you about this spoiler, but look, you had almost 60 years.) What was the cause? Oh, laziness, really… This 1962 novel depicts a postapocalyptic future in which global warming has rendered much of planet uninhabitable. In stark contrast to Station Eleven, it is a dark and depressing tale of survivors forced to reinvent their ethical and moral codes when civilisation collapses. It is widely regarded as one of the first climate-change fiction texts.
A horror novel and an apocalypse novel in one—as if surviving nuclear holocaust wasn’t enough, now there’s a demonic entity known as The Man with the Scarlet Eye, aka Doyle, running around. Typical. This novel includes one of the stranger epidemics in apocalypse fiction: the Forgetting, which has devastated the world by separating those afflicted from their shadows—and their memories, which causes them to behave erratically, even violently. As society breaks down, Ory and Max (one shadowless, one not) try to find answers, and each other. In this classic of nuclear holocaust fiction, when much of the United States is destroyed by the Soviet Union, one small Florida town survives, adapting to their new lives in a radioactive wasteland. A classic, and probably King’s best novel (don’t come for me) is a behemoth (famously inspired by The Lord of the Rings) with many threads and characters, all set in a world ravaged by a pandemic caused by a weaponized strain of influenza that is fatal to 99.4% of those who encounter it. So you may not want to read it right now!Is it actually a post-apocalypse through which our one-shoed protagonist drifts? Or are we dealing with a different reality entirely? Either way, it has the feeling of a land gone to seed, with bombed-out, disconnected cities, enormous red suns, inexplicable, endless fires. And either way, it is one of the weird greats, a widely influential and difficult—even impenetrable—cult classic. It’s almost winter, and on the reservation of a small Anishinaabe community in northern Ontario, the power has gone out. Not just the power either, but the phones and the internet, resulting in full isolation. And it’s cold. Then the outsiders begin to appear. Fear and chaos reign, as Evan Whitesky, father of two, looks to the past, to tradition, to try to rebuild his community’s future. Chilling in more ways than one. Of course, there are plenty more great apocalypse and post-apocalypse novels that didn’t fit on this list, and I haven’t read enough books in translation in this genre, so as ever, please add on your own favorites in the comments. This is not usually discussed as a post-apocalyptic novel, and indeed it depends on how you read it, but let me present my case: if you take the narrator’s word for it, she is the last woman alive on earth, typing along to keep herself occupied, with no hope of ever encountering another soul again. So something must have happened. The problem is: can you take the narrator’s word for it? Either way, the novel takes up the same themes as many of the others on this list, albeit in its own experimental, literary fashion: what is left when nothing is left? How should the survivors live? What did our art, our science, or civilization mean? Did it mean anything at all?
Many apocalyptic stories focus on stories that are on the brink of the end of the world of the civilization. Post-apocalyptic fiction is set in a world or civilization after such a disaster. Also called 'Holocaust' We often think of the apocalypse as something that happens to everybody at the same time—but what about those in remote locales that remain untouched at the beginning? In this novel, the world ends while Jon is at a Swiss hotel, far away from everyone he knows and loves. So what does he do? Get busy solving the more immediate problem: the dead body on the premises. Of course.The end of the world is never really the end of the world—at least not in fiction. After all, someone must survive to tell the tale. And what tales they are. Humans have been pondering the end of existence for as long as we’ve been aware of it (probably, I mean, I wasn’t there), and as a result we have a rich collection of apocalypse and post-apocalypse literature to read during our planet’s senescence. The people in this book might be going to have lived a long, long time from now in Northern California,” is how this book begins, in slippery Le Guin fashion. The apocalypse in Always Coming Home happened so long that none among the Kesh remember it—not even their songs know what caused it. Mostly, what’s left is styrofoam. This is not a straight narrative, but a realistic anthropological study of a fictional people, the Kesh, compiled and annotated by a researcher named Pandora. In some ways, it is a minor work in Le Guin’s oeuvre, but a fascinating one.
When I looked at the sci-fi collection on my bookshelves before compiling this list, I was surprised by how many of Niven’s books I had. I’d also forgotten what classics s such as Ringworld and The Mote in God’s Eye were. Niven is a master of hard sci-fi and together with Pournelle (another US genius), he wrote this apocalyptic thriller in 1977. A giant comet hits the Earth, creating collossal earthquakes, giant tsunamis and ultimately the beginning of a new ice age. A handful of humans struggle to survive. My favorite Ballard: a heady quasi-adventure novel set in a future in which the entire planet has been transformed into a series of sweltering lagoons, a neo-Triassic landscape that horrifies and also transfixes the survivors, who are plagued by dreams and strange impulses.But then, I suppose that's part of the point—aren't the point of encyclopedias to record everything, making no distinctions between the mundane and the magnificent? Each entry, no matter its importance, striving to build a larger body of knowledge, much larger than any individual contribution? In The End of the World Book, all of the individual fragments add up to an understanding of its creator, revealing everything and nothing about him. The mystery and myth of some kind of total knowledge remains... Everyone’s favorite metafictional zombie apocalypse novel by Mel Brooks’ son, whose framing device—Brooks as agent of the United Nations Postwar Commission and his own actual/fictional survival guide, interviewing survivors—give it a polyphonic resonance. Don’t judge it by the movie, which takes serious liberties, and is not great. Of course Cloud Atlas is not entirely a novel about the end of the world, and in fact of its six storylines only one could be considered post-apocalyptic (one other is squarely dystopian). But considering the novel’s insistence on the interconnectedness of time and space (and people) and the centrality of the post-apocalypse it does evoke (located at the pinnacle of the novel’s unique structure), I think it’s only fair to count it here. Parenthood is a kind of apocalypse, yes, but—well, so is an underwater London. No food, no power, no internet; society begins to break down, but even this can barely distract a new mother from the magic of her child. Hunter’s sparse novel asks what to make of the first year of a life (and the first year of motherhood) at the end of the world.
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