How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster

Weekly acid rains have been causing havoc in a post-apocalyptic New York City. Many people have died, and the survivors are living in the self-contained five boroughs under militarized control. After breaking up with Mal, Mira returns to her parent's apartment building, where family and ghosts coexist. Hoping to reconnect with Mal or anyone else, Mira becomes a HAM radio host after trading beef jerky and fish for the radio. "How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnamable Disaster" is a compelling story filled with love, humanity, grief, and a touch of whimsy. And did I mention there are also a cockroach, ghosts, and a headless man? This book with the right performer/reader would make an excellent audiobook!

I have a habit of not giving synopses more than a cursory glance -- especially when the title of the novel is as immediately compelling as this -- and whatever information I do pick up in that glance is generally forgotten by the time I actually get around to reading the book. Now, I really don't think any synopsis could have prevented this book from being so delightfully unexpected at every turn. It's often fablelike yet always undeniably modern, it's a post-apocalyptic tale (its concept is somewhat of a cross between two other books I've read recently, Severance and Pink Slime) yet leans heavily into indescribably beautiful bits of magical realism that thoroughly differentiate it from its contemporaries in the genre. There's undeniably a main character, Mira, yet it abandons her immediate perspective early on to bounce between others' eyes, leading it to feel somewhat like a series of interconnected short stories (in fact, per the acknowledgements, at least some of the chapters were originally published in that form) while still managing to always be satisfying in the way it treats Mira's arc. We get fragments of what's going on through these different perspectives, and it's a wonder to witness them piece together into a whole.

There's a gently romantic headless man named Sad (whose early-on introduction immediately told me I would love the book), there's the pensive ghost of a cockroach, and there're a whole lot of people grieving at once, because what else is there to do in a time of unnameable disaster? It's an incredibly creative and idiosyncratic book, yet it doesn't feel detectably ambitious (or at least doesn't strain to be that), as everything flows naturally enough to believe that this was just the way these emotions materialized out of sheer necessity. I mean, how else would you convey love and grief but through a cockroach?

It's comforting and devastating in equal measure, and genuinely one of my favorite things I've read in a while. This book is no less than what it needs to be.

I have to say, so much of this book, you have to be okay with just going with it. Just read it and feel it and appreciate it. Read it like you would a poem because that is what it is. It's a love letter to love, and all the feelings that go with it. Once I gave up trying to understand, and instead just read it to experience it, I liked it much more. I love how the world is actively falling apart due to climate disasters, and yet humans remain, continue, keep going and don't bat an eye, shedding so much of their shields and simply existing with the same concerns, like love and fear and guilt. I'm still not sure how I feel about this book, I just know that I didn't hate reading it, and it was beautiful, and sometimes that's more than enough.

*How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster* is a wonderfully quirky and moving read. Set in a post-apocalyptic New York City battered by acid rains, the story follows Mira as she returns to her family’s apartment building, seeking comfort and connection.

What makes this book stand out is its blend of magical realism and heartfelt storytelling. Mira’s journey unfolds through various perspectives, including a headless man named Sad and the ghost of a contemplative cockroach. These unusual characters and viewpoints come together to form a tapestry of love, grief, and resilience.

The narrative feels both inventive and natural, with its whimsical elements—like the ghostly cockroach—adding depth without feeling gimmicky. It’s a book that manages to be both comforting and heartbreaking, capturing the essence of human emotion in a world that’s anything but ordinary.