I’m a fan of Stephen’s books, but if I’m honest, recently I’ve not kept up. Which is why I’m reading this one about a year after its first release (although the paperback is now imminent, due October 2014).
I’m pleased to see that we’re back to big Epic themes here, although you may be surprised at the start. For Proxima is not your typical ‘outwards to the stars’ novel, in fact, often the opposite.
From the book: The 27th century: Proxima Centauri, an undistinguished red dwarf star, is the nearest star to our sun – and (in this fiction), the nearest to host a world, Proxima IV, habitable by humans. But Proxima IV is unlike Earth in many ways.
Huddling close to the warmth, orbiting in weeks, it keeps one face to its parent star at all times. The ‘substellar point’, with the star forever overhead, is a blasted desert, and the ‘antistellar point’ on the far side is under an ice cap in perpetual darkness.
How would it be to live on such a world?
Yuri Jones, with 1,000 others, is about to find out…
For a book which has basic SF tropes at its core, it is surprisingly contemporary in tone, taking old SF ideas (colonisation, space travel, strange alien species) and imbuing them with a modern twist. We begin with something tightly focused on one character, Yuri Eden, but then builds up a range of characters to the point where we have an ensemble that we know of and care about.
Whilst I understood the book was about space exploration, the first part of the book was not what I expected, to the point that I considered not going further. This is no confident step into the unknown. Yuri is a convict, shipped Botany Bay style to Proxima c (Proxima IV). Earth is a mess, through climate change, and instead of this being a glorious expansion of humans to the stars, there is no further planned funding for projects such as this, and the colonists are more something to be got rid of, as an inconvenience, rather than picked for any great skill. In fact the early days of exploration are generally looked down upon as ‘the Age of Heroic Expansion’. In short, nobody wants to be there, nor be a settler, stranded without contact to other people. (Compare this with Heinlein’s Farmer in the Sky to see how different Proxima is.)
Yuri’s journey is one of being awakened and then survival, interspersed with repeated beatings, fights and conflict from other ‘colonists’ as well as the ironically named ‘Peacekeepers’.
When the colonists get to Proxima c, an exoplanet, they are stranded with apparently no hope of return to Earth or any means of contacting the other small groups spread around the globe. Yuri and his group of a dozen or so spend much of their first few months ignoring each other, sleeping with each other or killing each other. Much of the first hundred pages or so show this unpleasant and harsh tale, with characters – misfits, rapists, murderers – who are also unlikable. It’s grim, in space.
This is not the stuff of old SF. But bear with it. What Stephen has done in all of this bleakness is drop subtle little hints that ‘other things’ are happening. And it is at this point, about halfway through the novel, things turn all ‘2001’ and we suddenly get an idea that, rather than being an unpleasant tale of human decline and squalor, on the cosmic scale Proxima is about things on a much longer timescale and a much bigger canvas.
Proxima c itself is an interesting enough idea, being just so big. (And it’s not the only novel to cover such big ideas recently. I’ve also read Stephen Hunt’s In Dark Service, which was a similar environment.) Much of the middle part of the book is spent examining the sheer alien-ness of this new planet. Different climatic zones are created on a world where one zone is bigger than most planets, and where seasons become quite different.
What we also get into here is an alien ecology, as the plants on Proxima are similar and yet different to those of Earth. There doesn’t seem to be any animal life here, but instead Stephen spends quite a while explaining the rituals and existence of a bizarre alien ecology named stromatolites, based on a variation of cell-like tubes rather than plant cells and a range of species to rival Earth’s rainforests. As is typical of our unusual colonists, most of the survivors are initially uninterested in these lifeforms or the scientific findings put forward by their group’s ColU (named after the University which created it), an AI robot whose endearing qualities are a constant source of delight through the novel.
This does change in the later part of the novel when the situation alters, both on Proxima c and on Earth. A major discovery means that events do become much more interesting, balancing these strange ecologies with both life on Earth and the human expansion across Proxima. At this point the years jump forward quite quickly and it becomes apparent to the reader that we are in for a long haul here.
When we reach the final stages of the book and the consequences of human actions are revealed, the book became un-putdownable. It shouldn’t be a surprise, after such a bleak beginning, that the story does not end entirely well, though there are many themes that will no doubt be taken further in the next book, Ultima. In the end, part of the cosmic mystery is revealed, though there’s enough left unexplained and a cliff-hanger that will leave you wanting to read the next book as soon as you can.
Proxima is a book of surprises. Whilst its beginning is rather shocking, and not always enjoyable, it builds to something in the end that shows a writer of skill, whose sense-of-wunda shines though. I’m pleased I finally picked this one up.