We love it when bad things happen (to other people). We are entertained by nasty, awful, horrible fates that often involve lots of screaming and or mental breakdowns (again, so long as it’s happening to someone else). That is…we enjoy reading about them, Or watching movies about such evil events, because we have that sympathetic relationships to the characters that lets us feel like survivors when it’s all over. We immerse ourselves in the story, and hopefully, if it’s presented well enough, feel the characters’ hopes, fears, loves, anguish and joy as the move along, even if we know half of the cast are going to die off by the third chapter.
If a small crew of people are victorious in fighting off a zombie swarm, we feel like we were there pumping shotgun shells right along with them. We are survivors.
If a plague sweeps the nation into post-apocalyptic hell, and groups are left to eke out a living on scavenged food stock until they can somehow recover a semblance of life from before the fall, we are right there with them, proving ourselves as true warriors-at-heart, able to live off the land and defend ourselves from whatever predators rise against us. Survivors.
As readers, we get to be the survivors every time. If the hero beats the bad guy, we take vicarious triumph in the end. As minor characters drop like flies, we move on, assured in our survival until the last page.
Even if every single character dies in some horror bloodfest, we as readers are able to take a step back at the end and say, Whew, I’m glad I survived that and learned my lesson. We survive the end of the book. We are detached enough to move on, but we take with us a shadow of the accomplishments the characters experienced as if we earned it ourselves. I suppose that’s part of the allure of reading in the first place. The illusion of danger, and thus the illusion of survival.
I wonder…I suppose we should keep it in the realm of possibility, so consider a huge war that decimates society, or a disease, or some other catastrophe that alters the day-to-day fabric of our lives…would we survive? Would we have the skills and know-how to keep going after the carpet of society gets yanked out from under our feet? How do we compare to those stoic figures marching between the pages, resourceful, strong-as-steel souls who never back down until the job is done? Are we as similar to them as we like to think?
Would we be main characters, or one of the backdrop faces that other survivors would see? Would we be a lesson for them to learn by and avoid whatever mistakes we might make?
I wonder…
I see that smile.
…would we survive?
Probably not me, because I need medicine to live.
Heck, even if that weren’t the case, all I would have to do is break my glasses and I’d be in dire straits.
How do we compare to those stoic figures … ? Are we as similar to them as we like to think?
No. It is a very rare person who reacts to a real crisis as calmly as they would have imagined previous to that crisis. In the First World, we’re exposed to panic and mortal fear so seldom that most of us really don’t know brave/fearful or admirable/evil we are capable of being.
Yes, there are some things we’ve come to rely on that a lot of people would have a difficult time surviving should those elements be torn away. I am, of course, talking about things like canned tuna, ramen noodles, contact lenses, and hot, running water.
Without these, civilization will collapse, yes?
Yes, I’d have a fair chance – primarily because I’ve considered the scenario and made certain mental dispositions and have some primitive survival skills.
I guess it could almost become a game. As a writer, envision some future apocalypse striking the world/country/neighborhood and then not only write a novel about it, but do everything possible to prepare for that exact reality to come about in real life. Bomb shelters, food stocking, haz-mat suits, the works. Teach yourself to hunt a small animal, skin it with a toothpick, and then build a log cabin and bonfire with what’s left of the toothpick.
It’ll be a great publicity stunt. Unless of course the disaster actually does occur and kills off all your readers.