It’s not the end of the world
I rather enjoy drama with an apocalyptic edge. You know the sort of thing: humanity has been overcome by a mystery illness turning the dying into zombies (The Walking Dead TV/comic series); a mystery virus has wiped out most people (Survivors on TV), all the men (Y: The Last Man TV/comic) or continues to threaten (Sweet Tooth TV/comic); the birth rate has collapsed, taking stability with it (Children of Men book/film or The Handmaid’s Tale book/TV series); a mystery catastrophe has occurred and people are picking up the pieces (The Road book/film or Leave the World Behind book/film); Earth faces an extinction-level collision with a meteorite (Deep Impact, Armageddon or Don’t Look Up); humanity faces a new ice age (The Day After Tomorrow film) or the planet starts to break down (2012 film). You may have your own favourite.
These stories often find their beginnings in the genres of science fiction or horror. They look at catastrophic global events through the lens of ordinary people and ask big questions: how would life go on? Would humanity survive? What would happen to government and institutions? Sometimes we join the story after the catastrophe has happened. In The Handmaid’s Tale, set in a totalitarian, fundamentalist America, the events which caused things to change are told in flashback by a journalist who is now a ‘handmaid’, one of the few fertile women remaining. Likewise in The Walking Dead we are pitched straight into a world where the dead get up and walk. Of course, there is also drama in the downward spiral. The special effects fun in a movie like The Day After Tomorrow leaves you on the edge of your seat as you watch great cities freeze. The drama and comedy in Don’t Look Up comes from people’s inept reactions in the face of impending doom.
Great literature has been inspired by some of these questions. The Handmaid’s Tale has had two lives as a bestselling book, its second inspired by the current TV series. Lord of the Flies remains on the school English syllabus, asking the question what would happen to a group of boys left to fend for themselves on a desert island? Who are we when the stable environment surrounding us becomes dangerous? What would ordinary people do in extraordinary situations? Sometimes the answers are life-affirming, such as in The Road, which centres on a father’s quest to ensure that his son gets to safety, travelling through a grim, devastated America. Other human stories are told too, where negative characters come to the fore: think about the descent of the boys in Lord of the Flies or the terrible new Gilead regime in The Handmaid’s Tale.
Satire and social commentary is also key to understanding many of these stories. Don’t Look Up uses an oncoming asteroid as a metaphor for climate catastrophe – just look at how the people in charge refuse to engage with the reality and inevitability of the problem. Although The Handmaid’s Tale posits a terrifying version of Christian fundamentalism, it was originally written as a response to what was happening in Afghanistan, with its Islamist context.
These stories often rely on a biblical understanding of the world. The idea of original sin is key; left to our own devices, human beings are not very nice to each other. This is balanced with the idea that humanity can achieve amazing things in the face of diversity. We see both of these dynamics in scripture. In the book of Exodus, Pharaoh refuses to bow to God’s will and let the Israelites go free from slavery; we read that his heart is hardened even as he continually rejects his maker. As a result, he leads his people to calamity: the death of the firstborn and the liberation of the Jewish workforce. By contrast, Ruth’s story gives us an outsider, a Moabitess, who refuses to abandon her Jewish mother-in-law and ends up being a key player in God’s salvation story for all humanity. The Bible gives us a consistent picture: life without God is dark and hopeless, but with him remarkable things are possible. His plan for your life is better than any human plan.
Apocalyptic literature almost always ends hopefully. Author John Wyndham’s books generally see the world overrun by extraordinary forces, but they end on a note which indicates that a hopeful future is coming. In The Kraken Wakes, the world has been flooded and millions are dead, but as the book ends, the water begins to recede. There are exceptions to this rule. In the 1980s TV drama Threads, the survivors of a nuclear war try to keep going and we follow a pregnant woman through the devastation. In this case it is clear that life is never returning to normal. However, most of the stories I have mentioned end on a note of hope, which again reflects a Christian ethic at their centre: no matter how desperate the situation, there is always hope and a future. This is connected to the characters in the stories – people can do remarkable things in extreme circumstances. Sometimes these things are evil, but you see the best of humanity too.
This genre is always gritty. If you like your drama to be ‘chocolate-boxy’ or soapy, it will not be for you. The violence of The Walking Dead or the TV series of The Handmaid’s Tale makes for grim viewing. World destruction can make for remarkable spectacle, but it can be disconcerting when any one of your favourite characters might get killed off at any time. Yet it is a good genre if you want to reflect on what makes us human, and how people become the best or worst that we can be. You may also find yourself asking questions about your own life. In extremis, would you be hero or villain? Can you find the hope when life is dark and difficult?