There are so many writers around the world, but they cannot come up with a single novel worth reading about the end of our civilization. I am fond of neither novels nor science fiction as a novel genre, but there is always hope for both. And especially when the task is to make the upcoming catastrophe palpable to the many. Not very bright on the average, they need a novel, an outmoded literary genre, to get a grasp of reality. If a film would also come in the wake of the novel, perhaps followed by a sequel or two, the many would finally get an idea about the not-so-happy end. So, why are writers loath of attempting such a novel? A couple of answers suggest themselves. To begin with, it would not be worth the effort. Not yet, at least. The many do not get it to this day. Not in the least. It is likely to dawn upon them only half a way through the catastrophe. Perhaps more important, nowadays the writers are also of the many. If they ever get ahead of their times, it is by a few years only. Say, a quarter way through the catastrophe. And that is when money and fame can best be made. The end of our civilization is thus a topic that is yet to take shape in the minds of the writers, let alone of the readers.

Addendum (November 23, 2015)

Having come across this piece in one of my uncharted journeys through my writings, I am a bit confused by its title. A novel about the end of our civilization could not but have a happy end, at least in my own reading of posthistory. Put the other way around, the return to the tribal mode of existence cannot possibly be construed as a not-so-happy end. To wit, the only plausible reading of the title is that the novel in question would focus on the calamity preceding the wondrous return to the wild. For the collapse of our civilization will surely be horrendous, and it can only be hoped that it will not take too many years, decades, or perhaps even centuries. Returning to my confusion about the title, I must have assumed that any novel for the many could not possibly reach into the fabulous posthistory, for that would require too much from the writer and the reader, both of whom are perforce of the many. The same holds for the film and its sequels, it goes without saying. But a brave if baffling novel about tribal life to come would still be a joy for the few, in which case the title of this piece would be questionable, indeed.