Impeccable. This book weighs nicely between being totally accessible and also being thematic and think-y. (Not that the two are mutually exclusive, duh. It's just nice to read a book that does both SO well.) Station Eleven has been getting a lot of buzz lately and I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the buzz is well-earned. Starting in the presumable modern day, the world falls apart when the harmlessly-dubbed "Georgia Flu" infects most of humankind. This isn't the kind of epidemic that people can bounce back from. Ninety-nine percent of the population is wiped out in a matter of months. I'm not saying you HAVE to read this book during the current Ebola panic, although it does add a certain sense of atmosphere. 
 The "lucky" survivors have settled into their new lives, residing mostly in shanty towns and defending their own. One lovely, brief chapter outlines a few of the missing details in this new life. No vaccines, no iPhones, no birth control, no bagels. A small troupe of musicians and actors travel near the border of Canada and the US to deliver symphonies and Shakespeare to whomever is willing to listen. Violins don't need electricity and Shakespeare doesn't need a Globe. As their wagon proclaims, "Because survival is insufficient." (Trekkies survive in the new world.) One young actress, Kirsten, only carries a few things with her from the time before--a fascination with the actor Arthur Leander and a couple copies of a comic called Station Eleven. It's the connection with Arthur Leander that brings all of the main characters together. The other characters--the paparazzo-turned-paramedic, the lawyer who starts a museum of old-world artifacts, the first wife of Arthur Leander--are all equally fascinating. Emily St. John Mandel's writing is thoughtful and tightly woven. Much like the fictional sci-fi comic that the book is named for, Station Eleven feels otherworldly and relatable all at once.