I am in awe of Ken Liu’s writing. His work really gets to the heart of things. Have a look at his blog. More importantly, have a look at his stories.
I think that is what James S.A. Corey (aka Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck)must have been doing with LEVIATHAN WAKES because the world their characters inhabit is so beautifully, fully-realized.
What happens after humanity expands into the solar system, but before we reach the stars? Science doesn’t give much hope for a Star Trek-style ‘warp drive,’ but that’s not going to stop us from going after the mountains of valuable minerals floating around in our own solar system. LEVIATHAN WAKES explores a likely future in which this has been going on for a long time. Humanity has expanded out to the asteroid belt and the outer planets, established permanent settlements, and begun to physically adapt (one of the more amazing ideas in the book) to the new environment.
Space opera, especially of the military variety, is so often hard, sterile, and emotionless–all about hardware, revenge and flying debris. Though there is certainly plenty of that in this book, Corey doesn’t neglect the ‘opera’ side of the equation. That is to say, the characters’ emotions are present for duty. It’s not an overly sentimental book, but it is clear in every scene that these people want something. Some want to make their mark, some to make some money, and some want each other. It works, and it leaves me craving more.
This book is a seamless mashup of space opera, military sci-fi, horror, and detective noir. Now that I’ve read it, the book I’d most like to be reading is the second doorstop-sized book of the Expanse series, CALIBAN’s WAR. LEVIATHAN WAKES is the new standard in my mind for space opera.
“Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your father knowing it.”
“But the sparrow still falls.”
The fascinating premise of Mary Doria Russell’s book attracted me, that once an extraterrestrial intelligence is discovered a few decades from now, the Society of Jesus (aka the Jesuits) is the first to send a contact mission. It struck me as an original approach to a first contact story and makes sense. While governments and private corporations jockeyed for advantage and tried to get out of their own way, the Jesuits quietly did what they have done for centuries. They set out to bring the knowledge of God to the aliens, or to find out whether such knowledge is universal among all God’s children.
Beginning at the Arecibo telescope with a gawky SETI astronomer, the revelation that we’re not alone travels quickly among a circle of friends with extraordinary talents and connections. THE SPARROW is a character-driven story that draws the reader into the lives of people embarking on an historical expedition. I’m not Roman Catholic, but I appreciated the insight into the life of a Jesuit priest. Service, celibacy, and honor are explored alongside secular issues. This is not a ‘Christian’ book, per se, but more an exploration of how intelligent people approach the concept of why an omniscient and omnipotent God allows terrible things to happen, whether he simply watches atrocities or orchestrates them for some purpose hidden from us.
This is a wonderfully-written thinker’s book that encourages the reader to examine the logic of whether God exists, what evil looks like, whether one society’s morality is more valid than another’s, how faith and science can overlap and complement one another, and too many other concepts to list in this review.
Russell has an impressive background in anthropology, and it shows in this compulsively readable, thoroughly approachable speculation on how interaction with an alien culture impacts humanity in general, and one man’s faith in particular.
Without giving too much away, I’ll say that the book begins with a disaster having taken place. Details of the events are shrouded in mystery, but one thing is clear: it’s not going to end well. I spent most of the book enjoying the intelligence and humor of the dialog and character interaction, falling in love with Russell’s characters, and living in a kind of dread for the hard ending I knew was coming.
The main character says at some point in the story, “God is in the why.” This is reflected in the way the author chooses to structure the novel. We know the ending from the beginning of the book, but the book isn’t about what happens, it’s about why, and the effects of the ‘why’ on one physically, emotionally, and spiritually ravaged man.
The profound sadness of this book lingers, along with grand ideas that I can keep and turn over in my mind like exotic artifacts. My conclusion: at the point where science can no longer answer there are mysteries we have to accept–assumptions that must be made–in order to go on living and working and loving. For some, I think, this is what is required to bridge the gaps in our knowledge that otherwise would lead to despair. Another word for this is faith.