The most recommended books about societal collapse

South African author Deon Meyer is, in my opinion, the best crime writer in the world. Most of his books are detective stories set in Cape Town, but Fever was a radical departure for him. As an author, I know how important it is for me to keep myself engaged and interested in my writing and not become stale. Deon shook up his readership with this tale of a fictional pandemic (written before Covid 19) and its impact on South Africa. Brilliant and scary and top marks to Deon for leaping out of his comfort zone.

The secret to mastering your apocalypse experience is to think of it not as surviving, but as thriving—in the way that humans did for over 300,000 years as hunter-gatherers.

This book will drop you into that mindset as you read about how far our modern civilization has deviated from our original lifestyle, and the huge price we have paid for all of our comforts, conveniences, and technological wizardry.

This book may make you want to adopt an apocalypse-ready lifestyle even in the absence of societal collapse, since the new path he proposes offers so much in terms of improved health and wellbeing, rewarding outdoor activities, and IRL interaction (enjoy more sex, he says).  

For much of my academic career, I’ve battled the stereotype that cities are dangerous and deadening places, and certainly not where you want to be caught after plague decimates the population.

Pat Murphy is on my side. She imagines a post-plague San Francisco where the few remaining residents are artists, not bunkered survivalists. Her city “not long after” a plague is a place of creative eccentrics who defend themselves against outsiders with performance art.

Without the excitement of cities, there would be few new ideas, and it is great to find a science fiction book that agrees.

This one’s actually the middle book of Attwood’s Maddaddam trilogy, which deals with the results of “the waterless flood,” a viral pandemic which has wiped out most of civilisation.

The Year of the Flood focuses on the lower classes, which again interests me in terms of the effect on “ordinary” people. There’s a dystopian element here, as Attwood explores the religious sect in which the protagonists find themselves.

A classic shocker. When I first read this book sometime around 50 years ago, I was shocked at how quickly the characters reverted to a primal state.

Now, that I’m older and wiser, I’m still shocked. I’m shocked at how easily the characters went primal, because I think that is a sad reality, that for most people, civility is a thin veil easily torn by the right circumstance.

Unlike the typical post-apocalyptic fare of nuclear war or other identifiable disasters, Dies the Fire posits an interesting question: What if everything just stops working? Everything we rely on to drive modern society, from combustion to electricity, fails. Against this backdrop, a cast of characters from varied backgrounds all must struggle to adapt to this new reality. Civilization falls apart, and new orders spring up in their place. What drew me most to this was the different ways in which the characters responded to this situation. Some seek simply to survive, while others seek to exploit this new reality for their own gains at the expense of others.

I’m including this classic because it’s Wyndham’s writing that first drew me into post-apocalyptic fiction, and because I love the way that he focuses on the details of the survivors’ lives in a believable way.

It tells of a world in which most of humanity has been blinded by radiation from a space event, leaving them at the mercy of the eponymous walking, stinging plants that feed on decaying flesh. The sighted survivors have to cope with plagues, dwindling resources, the collapse of order, and the rise of militias. Oh, and the Triffids.

I love Sci-Fi, especially when it’s told through complex human stories of love, loss, hope, and resilience. This genre is often quite dark, which is part of why I enjoy it, but this book balanced the devastating and disturbing aspects of humanity with the humor, tenderness, and compassion of humanity.

I never wanted this book to end, and yet, when it did, I felt deeply satisfied with the conclusion. The way this book explored the interconnection of all living beings and the deepest questions of life filled me with joy, anguish, and wonder.

This is Nagamatsu’s debut novel, and as an aspiring novelist, I was both inspired and a little jealous. That combo is motivating, so hopefully, one day, I’ll be thanking the author in my acknowledgments. 

Wayward is the sequel to Wanderers, which was my number one favorite read of 2022. These books are incredible for several reasons.

The voice Wendig employs is conversational and impactful, the themes are heavy yet hopeful, and the characters were so real and relatable that I still think of them often, though I finished the book back in January.

Oh, and the mystery at the heart of the plot is so compelling it made this 800+ page doorstopper fly by in no time. This is the first post-apocalyptic story I’ve read that left me feeling ultimately hopeful about humanity’s inherent goodness, and for that, it tops my list.

Louise Welsh has written three novels about a pandemic called the Sweats – her Plague Times trilogy. This is the second book in the series. I particularly liked this one because its protagonist, Magnus, is a Scottish not-very-good stand-up comedian, and I too was once a not-very-good aspiring comic! After a series of unfortunate events, Magnus ends up in prison, where the disease is rife. Breaking out, he decides to make for his childhood home on Orkney, accompanied by fellow escapee Jeb. The fast-moving plot will keep you racing through this book.