Light holiday fiction just doesn’t help when nobody knows when they will be allowed to go anywhere again
For the first time in my life, I am living with curtailed liberties. Living in the midst of a pandemic has left me with a disturbing sense of unreality, where everything that was once familiar and comforting – like going to a nice restaurant or browsing in a bookstore – has morphed into a potential death threat. I once found my home a respite, but being forced to stay inside all day has increasingly turned it into a source of anxiety.
Perversely, I have found that the best way to cope with this experience is to delve into dystopian fiction. My usual diet of light, escapist literature has been replaced by books featuring bleak futures, where people are forced to grapple with new devastating realities wrought by climate change, biowarfare, pandemics, totalitarian governments or technology – choose your own misadventure. Other kinds of novels now seem irrelevant: why would I read about a bunch of friends who go on a holiday together when no one knows when they will next be allowed to leave their home, let alone the country?
Related: Filth in a time of handwashing: why lockdown erotica is the hottest trend in publishing
The protagonist’s gumption gives me hope: if she can survive the worst of all situations, surely we can, too?
Related: Julia Baird on finding light in the dark: 'Coronavirus will leave a massive psychic scar'
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