I don’t read books as often as I used to. Daily, as I do housework, do barn chores, or ride in the truck, I act as my own radio producer, listening to Audible or other audiobook sellers. While I’ve long ago given up tucking a book into my purse, this form of multitasking has increased the number of authors and various subjects and topics that I take in, and I think that’s a good thing.
Dystopian swagger
As I understand it, the role of dystopian fiction is to allow readers (listeners) to consider the possibility of the end of the world. They are cautionary tales warning us - among other things - about the dangers of government control, issues with our environment, and unruly technological advances. This last one makes me think of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s 1984 breakthrough role as a cyborg in The Terminator. His “I’ll be back” line was epic.
Seven years ago, in 2018, I was obsessed with watching Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale on my iPhone, based on the bestselling futurist dystopian novel by Canadian author Margaret Atwood. I’d never read the book. The streaming TV series debuted in 2017, so I was behind the curve. Confession: This is apparently a trademark of mine, as I was slow to crowdpleasers like the Harry Potter and Outlander book series, too.
While my husband Ian drove on short, long, or anywhere trips, I happily rode shotgun, immersed in episode after episode of Elizabeth Moss as June Osborne, Offred, and Ofjoseph in Gilead. Then, it was disturbing to unplug from June’s travails and tune in to the local and national news during 45’s administration, and wondering if America then could ever become some kind of Gilead. Nah, I said, we’re a 200+ year-old democracy. We have failsafes. Sure, we have differing opinions, but first and foremost, we are proud Americans.
Fat books
I’ve listened to tomes I would have left on the library or bookseller shelf because the book spine width was too intimidating. I have a different mindset when I select an audiobook. I see upwards of 12+ hours, which would certainly be a fat hardcover, and I think, “Cool, that will take me a bit.”
Today’s Audible stats show I’ve listened to 447 titles since 2022. As I scan the finished titles, I’d say my tastes are varied. I enjoy authors who find a protagonist and run with it: Cara Black, Diane Gabaldon, Olen Steinhauer, Agatha Christie, Dorothy Gilman, Martin Cruz Smith, Robert Ludlum, John le Carré, Brian Freeman, J.A. Jance, Lynda LaPlante, Archer Mayor, Michael Connelly, John Grisham, to name a few I’ve wiled away hours with. I’ve added James Joyce, Isaac Asimov, Leo Tolstoy, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Percival Everett, Abraham Verghese, Nikole Hannah-Jones, and various post-political life insights from (for me) the predictable: Barack, Michelle, Hillary, and Bill, plus much authored by Doris Kearns Goodwin.
Lily Chu, Nick Pirog, and Andy Weir are a few I’ve either stumbled across or been led to by an algorithm, and I am grateful for it. Some gems in both author and TV series have come from my longtime friend Robyn, who I admire for her tasteful talent in assessing the good stuff and sending recommendations my way. V. E. Schwab and Mick Herron were two recent.
Octavia E. Butler
Some weeks ago, I don’t recall in what context, I heard about author Octavia E. Butler (1947-2006). She was an award-winning African American science fiction writer. I searched Audible to find her The Parable series. I’m listening to the first book in the series, Parable of the Sower (1993), set in a dystopian California in the 2020s, as told by its protagonist, fifteen-year-old Lauren. She and her family live in a walled neighborhood that is an armed camp where clean water is scarce, its community garden is precious, barter and cash are king, where police charge money to make house calls and do crime reports, and there are persistent rumors of a better, safer life beyond their wall in Oregon, Alaska, and Canada. If one survives roaming pyromaniac bands of the truly disenfranchised to get there.
Is ours a dystopian future?
Listening to Butler’s work now at the dawn of 47’s Administration is more chilling than watching Atwood’s unfold before my eyes on Hulu in 2018. Some say our dystopian future has arrived. I’m not convinced, but I wonder about the tipping point, the flashpoint, the no-turning-back event. Will I look at my bank app to learn the new oppressive regime has taken control of women’s finances? Will young women’s menstrual cycles be tracked? Will there be a federal ban (again) on abortion, followed by a state-after-state domino effect? Both Atwood and Butler's writings give hope. I’m holding fast to mine.
Excellent essay. My reading tastes have changed, too. There are some writers whose books will be read by me if I am able to find them in the local library. I will admit, if I don't care for a book, I will stop reading it, if only because time marches on. Dystopian books are fear-causing to me because the reign of 47 has made many of the books I have read on that subject are all too real. I am glad there are books on Kindle, etc., that one can listen to. That can make a long journey seem less tiring, and certainly more interesting. May I suggest to you Carl Hiaasen? He has written a number of funny, yet thought provoking books that in between the laughter, send the reader a powerful message about the need to protect the fragile ecology of the Florida coast. I don't know if you added James Lee Burke's pantheon of books to your list, but they are fantastic.