This was a short, easy read that didn't really leave an impact on me. I agree with many of the reviews I've seen that discuss Station Eleven as literary fiction with a SF veneer, and I can see how that view has been reached: the SF is pretty thin on the ground here, the science is less science and more fiction. That's cool, I suspended disbelief and ran with it.

On the literary hand, however, I find it harder to get along. The two major hammers-over-the-head of Station Eleven, the comic within the book, and the Shakespeare, were as subtle as a brick. There was no nuance, no subtlety, no depth to any of the characters.

I do, however, like the world, as unbelievable as it might be

(twenty years and no one's rigged up any kind of tech?)

. I loved the vignette of Jeevan and his brother,

and to a lesser extent Clark at the airport and Air Gradia 452

and that's probably the only thing I'll take away from Station Eleven - the stories of people in the immediate aftermath of the pandemic.