In the Kingdom of the Sick: Abjection, Mutuality, and the Afflicted in Recent Pandemic Fiction

During a pandemic, the omnipresence of the virus dictates that we negotiate our proximity to illness. We are brought face-to-face with the abject (the infected, the dying, the dead) provoking disgust and fear, but also, significantly, recognition. Our initial (and sometimes violent) reaction reflects an entrenched refusal to recognize any similarity between ourselves and the abject. Quarantining and social distancing are proven and (somewhat) effective methods for containing the spread of disease, but they also solidify the distinction between the sick and the well. The drive for immunity – an exemption from that which threatens the community –is a salient feature of many contemporary pandemic fictions. At the same time, other works push against that impulse, accentuating the need for the communal – an assumption of mutual vulnerability. Authors of recent Covid-centric texts (Gary Shteyngart, Elizabeth Strout, Weike Wang) illustrate how individuals oscillate between the contradictory desires for community and immunity – for being both a part and apart. In contrast, Sarah Hall’s Burntcoat and Ali Smith’s Companion Piece highlight the transformative possibilities of coming to terms with abjection and recalibrate the community/immunity balance in the light of present or future pandemics.