No more diving into pools of chlorinated water lit green from below. No more ball games played out under floodlights. No more porch lights with moths fluttering on summer nights. No more trains running under the surface of cities on the dazzling power of the electric third rail. No more cities.
In "Station Eleven," author Emily St. John Mandel paints a vivid picture of lost experiences in a post-apocalyptic world. The quote reflects the nostalgia for simple joys that have been eradicated, such as swimming in chlorinated pools or playing sports under artificial lights during summer evenings. These memories evoke a sense of longing for a vibrant, bustling life now overshadowed by the collapse of civilization.
The absence of urban life is starkly felt, underscored by the absence of trains and the quietude that replaces the previously dynamic cities. Mandel's prose evokes a world once filled with energy and connection, now reduced to echoes of what used to be, capturing both the beauty and the fragility of life before the catastrophe.
