In 2013, J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorst released S., a piece of metafiction that consisted of a reproduction of a character's copy of a book that exists within the project's fiction. The multi-layered story was told through the text of the book, the book's footnotes, the notes written in the margins of said book by the two people reading it, various scraps of paper stuck between the pages, and even some stuff on the Internet. It was a fascinating, original approach to storytelling and a love letter to the printed word.
In 2016, Ubisoft (or some partner) heavily borrowed from this conceit to create a product tie-in for their newest video game, The Division. (Or Tom Clancey's The Division, if you want to be technical.) Unsurprisingly, this product tie-in doesn't stand on its own two feet as well as the book that (probably) inspired it. But New York Collapse still ends up being far more enjoyable than it has any right to be, considering that it is unambiguously first and foremost a piece of merchandise.
To understand the book, it helps to understand the game it's based on. The Division is set a couple of months or so into a catastrophic pandemic that has ravaged New York city. A terrorist of some sort has infected a number of dollar bills with an engineered virus, and released them in Manhattan on Black Friday to be quickly and vigorously circulated -- death by consumer culture. Within weeks, the city has descended into complete chaos. The government has quarantined the island, and further quarantined certain neighborhoods; all public services and infrastructure have started to come undone; most people who haven't escaped have died; and various criminal and government-turned-criminal factions have laid claim to pieces of the city. Violence ensues, and a mysterious government organization springs to action, deploying its agents -- that's you! -- to quell the violence, restore order, and try to get the ball rolling on some sort of recovery. (Mostly, you kill people and collect better and better guns.)
As you play the game, as with many games generally and Ubisoft's especially, you find various collectible objects throughout the world that provide additional fragments of narrative to flesh out the world beyond the game's core plot. For example: cell phones with voicemail messages that, when pieced together, recount various New Yorkers' final days in mid-apocalypse Manhattan. There are various sets of collectibles, one of which is a series of pages torn from one woman's journal. These journal entries are written not in a blank notebook, however, but in the pages of an oddly specific survival guide for life in a catastrophe-ridden Manhattan.
The woman is named April Kelleher, the survival guide is called New York Collapse, and you are holding her copy in your hands. (The pages that were torn out and strewn around Manhattan for the video game player to find have been restored; try not to think about it.)
The primary text of the book, guide for how to survive a society-destroying pandemic in Manhattan, is naturally less engaging than the novel-within-a-meta-novel that served as S.'s primary text, but it's still pretty engaging. Because the guide is describing the world April Kelleher is living through with bizarre prescience and specificity, it almost functions as the text of a novel, albeit less flavorful. The guide describes the situation, and April's margin notes contextualize that information by relating it to her own life and offering specific anecdotes. These notes are written, again like in S., in various colors to signify different points in April's journey, and conveniently she keeps a tally of days in one of the first pages, so you can easily reference this to know when exactly she e.g. lost the black pen and started writing in pencil.
In addition to merely trying to survive in an imploding society, April Kelleher is trying to solve a number of mysteries. First, she's trying to find out why and by whom her husband, some sort of biotech researcher, was killed before her eyes in the early days of the outbreak. Second, she's trying to figure out what's up with the guide's pseudonymous author, Warren Merchant. Given the book's eerie accuracy and narrow focus, it seems plausible that Merchant perhaps knew that plans were underway for an attack of this sort, and April has uncovered a number of hidden messages in the book that add weight to this hypothesis.
Part of the fun of the book is unraveling these puzzles. Secret coded messages are scattered throughout, although they seem to come in only two flavors: already partially solved and easy to finish, and so obtuse that you're not sure it's a puzzle. As such, the puzzles fail to draw you into an ever-deepening rabbit hole; instead, you'll just solve the easy ones as you go and not bother digging deeper for any more.
As the puzzles suggest, there's a bit of a mystery in the book, a circling around a conspiracy that keeps you engaged. Unfortunately, all this hinting and elliptical storytelling never amounts to much. There is no big denouement, no payoff for all the hints and puzzles and vague references. I guess this book's creators borrowed that from J.J. Abrams as well. The Division's world is an interesting, rich setting for mid-apocalyptic stories; April Kelleher is an interesting, relatable character; and the book tantalizingly skirts the edges of some sort of Big Secret throughout its brisk 176 pages. But after all that, it just sort of fades out unceremoniously. Perhaps the big reveal is being saved for the inevitable tie-in for the game's sequel.
(Of course, given the nature of the book, I can't say that for sure. Maybe there's some big reveal hidden in an undiscovered secret message, or on some website the book was nudging me towards. But if there is, I didn't find it.)
I can't say how much you'll enjoy this book if you haven't played the video game. I've been playing the Division on and off for two years, and am fairly immersed in its world. April Kelleher's story takes place largely before the events of the game, so the book serves as an interesting prequel, fleshing out the pandemic's heretofore hinted-at early days. It also provides a deeper focus on the catastrophe's human component, as opposed to the tactical considerations (e.g. where to stand to safely kill a bunch of Bad Guys) that occupy most of your mental space while you play the game.
I got this book against my better judgement (it's a video game tie-in!) mostly because I'm so enamored of S. and it's meta-fictional construction, and books of this sort are few and far between. Given my expectations, the gamble has largely paid off. A piece of great literature New York Collapse is not, but it's a thoroughly entertaining read, especially for someone already familiar with its world.