Wizards and Demigods – The Time Capsule on my Bookshelf

Ten years ago, my grandpa gave me a book. I was in my early teens, a big reader and immediately drawn to its vintage charm. The book was heavy, with that distinct smell of old paper I loved. The faded cover depicted a horseman and its yellowed pages hinted at decades spent on a bookshelf. The title? The Courier of the Tsar by Jules Verne. But only recently did I discover that this book was more than an old adventure novel – it was my grandfather’s favorite story when he was my age. The reason was political. In the 1960s, Germany was divided into East and West, and the Cold War was ever-present. For my grandfather, Verne’s story wasn’t just entertainment. It shaped his understanding of the Russian mentality at a time when the Soviet Union felt like a real threat. Looking back, he told me the book helped him make sense of the world around him.

His words made me see the book in a new light. I’ve always thought of books as mirrors, reflecting people’s fears, dreams, and struggles. But over time, the stories we cherish become time capsules – preserving the emotions of an era. And without realizing it, I had one of those capsules sitting on my bookshelf. It was a window into my grandpa’s youth. That made me wonder: What do the books I enjoy say about my own reality as a young person in the 2020s? Hoping to find a pattern, I interviewed my grandfather and my mother. If their favorite books reflected their times, maybe mine did too.

Click on the graphic below to skip through the photo album and read the interviews.

For my grandpa, the Cold War wasn’t just history – it shaped his family’s life. But contrary to widespread fears, the Soviet Union never expanded further west. Instead it collapsed in 1991. By then, his daughter, my mom, was around my age. She stepped into a world that felt newly connected and full of possibility – which influenced the literature she liked. The 90s, she told me, were a time of optimism, fueled by the experience of the German reunification. Despite global issues like war and climate change, she and her peers believed the world was improving. That outlook was reflected in the poetry she loved.

But what about us – Gen Z? We are the first digital natives, currently navigating school, college life or our first jobs. In Germany, we experienced the Covid-19 pandemic, war in Ukraine, the climate movement, and the rise of extremism on all sides. Sure, Gen Z is diverse and doesn’t fit into one single box. But every generation has a shared mood. And from my perspective, that mood is melancholy.

Unlike the ‘90s optimism my mother described, I see little of that hope today. And this is reflected in the literature Gen Z gravitates toward. My German teacher once pointed out an interesting trend: Today’s students connect deeply with Romantic poetry, far more than previous generations. According to her, students in the ‘90s leaned more toward non-fiction, while Gen Z finds itself drawn to the emotional, introspective style of 19th-century Romantics.

For example, in highschool, many of my classmates were moved to tears by Eichendorff’s famous Romantic poem, Moonlit Night.

For me, this poem captures an intense longing for something undefined – a peaceful place that feels like home. It quickly became my favorite piece of literature. But there’s more to Gen Z’s Romanticism than just melancholy. While poetry perfectly captures the mood of Gen Z, I think other popular genres serve a different purpose. A quick glance at my teenage bookshelf reveals a dominant trend.

The 2010s were a golden age for young readers, dominated by three major genres:

Harry Potter paved the way, but it wasn’t long before Percy Jackson and other fantasy icons followed. The formula for a bestselling 2010s fantasy protagonist – whether in Percy Jackson, The Mortal Instruments, or Twilight – is simple:

1. Discover that you have supernatural powers.
2. Become part of a hidden magical world beyond the human realm.
3. Realize that you are The Chosen One and must save this world from evil.

If possible, fall madly in love along the way.

It’s hard to find a young adult who hasn’t read at least one of these trilogies: The Hunger Games, Divergent, The Maze Runner. Each takes place in a dystopian future following an environmental catastrophe, where teenagers challenge a ruthless regime. Themes like environmental destruction, wealth inequality, and the fight for democracy resonate deeply with Gen Z readers – mirroring the crises we see in the real world.

Neither fantasy nor dystopia is complete without a touch of romance – often in the form of a love triangle. It’s nearly impossible to name a bestselling 2010s novel where the protagonist doesn’t fall in love. Percy, Katniss, Bella, Tris – all of them, despite life-threatening adventures, still found time for love. And not just any love, but the kind that lasts a lifetime.

What do all three genres have in common? They explore themes that matter to many young readers: love, environmental collapse, and political extremism. But they also embody a deeply Romantic spirit – especially through the idea of a hidden magical world. For me, that makes sense: Much like the Romantics in the 19th century, Gen Z navigates a rapidly changing world, grappling with climate change, political unrest, and technological overload. Just as Romantic writers sought solace in nature and the supernatural, today’s youth turn to fantasy realms and heroes. What could be a better escape from an often frustrating, melancholic reality?

But why has this shift in mindset toward melancholy happened? Looking at my grandfather’s and mother’s experiences, I have a theory: the optimism of my mother’s generation has faded. From a German perspective, the end of the Cold War once felt like the dawn of a better world. My grandpa’s dream had come true. But history took a different turn. By 2022 the latest, it became painfully clear that war in Europe wasn’t a thing of the past. Instead of lasting peace, we now face a polycrisis – political, environmental, and economic. I sometimes find it hard to imagine things getting better in the same way my mom once did. With personal ties to Ukraine, the sense of stability I took for granted as a child feels more fragile now. While the challenges we face aren’t unprecedented, they are certainly shaping the way my generation sees the world. Maybe that’s why many of us are drawn to fantasy worlds. They offer a sense of escape, much like Eichendorff describes in Moonlit Night, where the soul takes flight and finds peace in the quiet, moonlit landscape.

So what will future generations find in my literary time capsule? Without a doubt: Moonlit Night, The Hunger Games, and Harry Potter. It perfectly captures how literature can be both a window into the soul and a coping mechanism. I’m curious to see what the next generation will read. And what my grandchildren will think of my own bookshelf – currently a time capsule in the making. Will it help them understand my world of the 2010s and 2020s? Will they love my old books as much as I once did? Or will those stories feel outdated? I can’t wait to ask them one day.