Perhaps the Stars by Ada PalmerMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
The trolley problem argument at the forefront of the series thus far is now superseded by an even bigger conflict between different visions of the future. Do we focus inwardly on mapping human psychology, conquering death and building utopia on Earth, or do we focus outward on the painful project of colonising other worlds. Palmer is a keen student of science fiction, and it’s fun to consider this dilemma as a way of contrasting the 60s new wave with classic space opera. The book presents this as an either / or proposition, in that the Earth becoming too comfortable reduces the incentive to look elsewhere, and Palmer is very good at continually reversing the reader’s perspective of which side should come out on top. Of course, at the end an accommodation is made, but the journey is a fun one.
Eventually, at least. This is a long book, at the end of a long series, and for me the first third really dragged. Palmer gets a little too bogged down with her new narrator, and I just wanted to get back to Mycroft and the war. She is at her most impressive when upending expectations with each successive chapter, and the book really picks up when she gets back into that groove. Ultimately I found the series interesting rather than compelling. But the ideas it brings to play leaves many more gripping works of speculative fiction in the dust.
The underlying question about the reliability of the narrative we have, given our narrator sees ghosts, says he has witnessed miracles and believes in a living god, is rendered moot for me by the book’s metatextuality – its overt geeky references to its influences, from Homer, the French Enlightenment and science fiction. Whether Bridger and Jehovah are elaborate conspiracies isn’t as interesting a question for me as the metaphors they present if they are ‘real’ in the fiction of the book. Bridger’s ability to bring his fantasies into reality suggests a comment on how human ingenuity reverse engineers discoveries from our imaginations. Jehovah wrestling with the problem of evil generates torrid existential emotions about our own consciousness embodied in a universe that is both accommodating and indifferent. It is slightly mysterious why Mycroft, who as a student of Voltaire and Diderot should be sceptical of providential thinking, would buy into Jehovah’s claims so completely. But that perspective is used to test out absolute values against the contingencies we face. The long final chapter is a showcase of Palmer’s impressive commitment to thinking through the problems she puts forward, and her optimism that an imperfect world can be made just a little more perfect.
View all my reviews
