A new literary prize asks how storytelling can drive greater optimism – and action – in the face of climate change.
Climate fiction, or cli-fi, explores the impact of environmental change on the Earth and its inhabitants. The genre uses fictionalized scenarios and characters to depict the realities of climate change, either in the present or the near future.
Cli-fi is a relatively new genre, and it is still finding its feet. In many cases, the genre overlaps with speculative fiction and science fiction. It tends towards dystopian futures where heroic figures battle for survival in a hot, dangerous world. Cli-fi can veer towards schlock and horror, exaggerated heroism, and cardboard characters. Black-and-white thinking, or simplistic notions of Good and Evil, can prevail.
At its best, though, climate fiction does what all great literature should do: it creates a human-shaped window into another reality. Great cli-fi allows readers to inhabit new worlds, feeling the pain of environmental disaster and the wrench of disconnection from the Earth’s natural rhythms.
For anyone still in denial about climate change, this is invaluable. And for readers who are terrified by the prospect of climate change, cli-fi may offer some solace: the promise that whatever happens, humans will continue to fight for a better way forward.
Can climate fiction also inspire change? That’s what a new Climate Fiction prize is banking on. The prize, established last year, is awarded to novels that present optimistic solutions to the greatest environmental challenges of our time. Below, I’ll explore how the prize winner and runners-up take on that challenge.
First, I want to note, regretfully, that Alexis Wright’s Praiseworthy did not make it to the shortlist for this year’s prize. (The novel did make the longlist.) Wright, an Aboriginal Australian novelist, writes about the impact of climate change with vivid language and great beauty. Praiseworthy is a sprawling tragi-comedy set in an imaginary Australian settlement where soaring temperatures and a mysterious “haze” are destroying the inhabitants’ traditional way of life. Wright zeroes in on the plight of one family and illustrates the impact climate change has on the human psyche, as well as on communities and traditions. Her work should be required reading for anyone interested in climate fiction.
Now…how do this year’s Climate Fiction winners stack up? Let’s take a look.
The Climate Prize Winner: Abi Daré. And So I Roar. Dutton, 2024.
The novel’s heroine, a Nigerian teenager named Adunni, is falsely accused of murder and must vindicate herself. Her village has been suffering from a prolonged drought, and the elders believe that Adunni indirectly caused the drought through her crime. In reality, the drought is the direct result of climate change and deforestation.
Dare has a gift for portraying place: the book thrums with vivid details of the drought’s impact on plant and animal life. Unfortunately, Daré has also crowded the novel with a host of other social issues. The villains in the piece are conveniently guilty of every possible crime: oppressing women and girls, enforcing cruel customs, and deforesting the landscape. The result is an unfocused novel that veers towards didacticism.
THE NOVELS SHORTLISTED FOR THE CLIMATE FICTION AWARD
Roz Dineen. Briefly Very Beautiful. Harry N. Abrams, 2024.
Set in the near future, Briefly Very Beautiful presents us with some very familiar problems. The air is full of wildfire smoke, giving kids asthma. The city is hot and overcrowded, weather patterns are unpredictable, and institutions are crumbling. The government is corrupt and greedy.
Briefly Very Beautiful is a fine, workmanlike example of what climate fiction can do. The novel is accessible, fun, and fairly convincing. It showcases human resilience, makes climate change seem viscerally real, and highlights the ability of mothers, in particular, to rise to any challenge in order to protect their children.
Téa Obreht. The Morningside. Random House, 2024.
Our heroine, an eleven-year-old girl named Sil, is a refugee from a war-torn country. She and her mother have been resettled in a city where they are challenged to live with the stark realities of coastal climate change: rising sea levels have submerged half of the island and resources are scarce.
The Morningside walks the line between dystopia and optimism, depicting a harsh new world in which people must rise to new challenges. However, much of the book is bogged down in speculative fantasy and whimsy; for this reader, at least, it thus failed to grip or convince.
Kaliane Bradley. The Ministry of Time. Avid Reader Press, 2024.
The British government has a time-travel machine, and they use it to bring people from various points in history into the modern day. The narrator, an unnamed young woman, is tasked with helping time travelers adjust to the present. She slowly uncovers the truth about the future, where Britain is wracked by heat waves and overcrowding.
This is light, pleasant reading, with a love story thrown into the mix. Will it inspire change? Will it drive greater understanding of climate change? Doubtful. The novel is too focused on plot twists and speculation about time travel to deliver on the reality of climate change.
Samantha Harvey. Orbital. Atlantic Monthly Press, 2024.
An international crew of astronauts orbits the Earth in a space station, gazing down at the planet in love and awe. The novel reads like a love letter to the Earth; much of it is devoted to long, wistful descriptions of the planet’s shocking beauty.
It’s hard to say whether Orbital “counts” as a climate change novel. Ultimately, the book is a somber reminder of how deeply connected we all are to our home planet: the astronauts’ bodies are literally beginning to atrophy because of their distance from Earth. In that sense, Orbital may at least serve to remind us of our limitations, our ties to this planet, and our obligations to it.
FINAL THOUGHTS
Climate fiction comes with a heavy load of expectations. The genre is tasked with translating data points into stories and turning statistics into human experience – all while inspiring us to drive change.
Are these expectations too high? Can cli-fi actually make a difference to our understanding of climate change?
Yes, I believe it can. Great literature always forces us to examine the very realities we’d rather avoid. It reveals our weaknesses, our mistakes, and our strengths. The best climate fiction taps into that capability, helping readers confront the present and prepare for the future.
The Climate Fiction Prize was launched in 2024 at the Hay Literary Festival. The prize, supported by Climate Spring, aims to “reward and showcase powerful stories that depict the human response to climate change; how it impacts us and how society responds.”
Edit by Samia Cohen; reviewed by Katherine Cheung.