nuclear holocaust – Clementine Fraser

Have you ever wondered what you’d do in the event of an apocalypse? We had a chat in the car the other day – in a zombie apocalypse would you rather be in the country or the city? In a house or an apartment? A car or a truck? I was amazed at the level of thought that went into the discussion. For the record, I’ve been scarred by too many horror movies set in isolated houses to want to be in a country home in the event of a zombie apocalypse! Even though I admit it’s probably better to be as far away as possible from a supply of zombie making people.

I spent much of my childhood living under the simmering threat of nuclear winter – it framed our dystopian novels and our sense of how the world would end. I’d thought that had been left behind us – post apocalyptic horrors a mere philosophical conundrum or movie plot – but current events have had me thinking about this more lately. Not so much about the zombies, i admit, but certainly the threat of nuclear war and authoritarian rule seems less unlikely than a few years ago.

We seem to love to talk about post-apocalyptic worlds in fiction. The ‘something shorted out all electrical equipment and the world has regressed to a group of powerful militias ruling everything’ as in ‘Revolution’. The super disease which spreads through communities killing millions with no discretion (not such a silly idea – Black Plague anyone? Influenza Epidemic?). The natural disaster, ice age, super storm end of the world themes a la ‘The Day after Tomorrow’, show how puny we are when faced with the power of nature.

Nuclear apocalypse was a big one when I was growing up: ‘Children of the Dust’, by Louise Lawrence was at one a gripping story I loved and a traumatic threat.

So what would we do at the end of the world?

Would we stay in tight knit and supportive communities or would we split into conflicting and hostile groups?

Who would take charge? Who would you trust? We’d need doctors. What about plumbing? There are so many things we have that rely on technology. I know teenagers who are convinced they can’t live without their phones. Heck, I know adults who get withdrawal symptoms when they leave their phone behind. Imagine a world without Google to settle arguments and without YouTube to give us video lessons on how to start fires without technology.

We’d need access to water. Food. Would farmers be the new over lords or would their lands and stock be requisitioned?

I also started thinking about refugees. If (heaven forbid) there was a nuclear conflict in the Northern Hemisphere and millions of people were driven out and down to the southern part of the globe, how many people could we take in New Zealand, for instance? We’d be pretty quickly outnumbered. How would we deal with that? What if contamination spread our way?

I love the idea of the Doomsday Vault with all the seeds ready for renewing the earth. The Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway is the best known but turns out there are four others – the Vavilov Research Institute in Russia, the National Centre for Genetic Resources in Colorado (U.S.), the Navdanya in India, and Kew’s Millennium Seed Bank Project in England. The seed banks spark beautiful imagery that reminds me of Demeter spreading seeds and walking the earth to bring Spring and new growth to the world. But then I started thinking – what if everyone near it was gone? how would we get there from New Zealand? Especially without google maps? I find it hard to get from one side of the city to another without GPS, I have a suspicion that heading up to the Arctic Circle might be a bit outside my skill set.

I think some of the attraction of post-apocalyptic fiction is that we get a chance to explore some of our greatest fears – the destruction of all that we know, and the possibility of being left alone. Characters who are placed in these conditions have to come face to face with their inner demons and, if they are to survive, conquer them.