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[skygiants]

A few weeks back, I decided not to read Mary Doria Russel's The Sparrow just yet because the day was too sunny and pretty to fill with angst.

Well, this weekend it is back to being sunny and pretty, but I just finished The Sparrow anyways and am on my way to the library after writing this up to go pick up the sequel. Yes, it does pile the angst and pain on its main character, possibly to the point of excess (not that I can complain about that, really, being a fellow-acolyte of the Dorothy Dunnett school where Russel learned her angst-causing technique) - but it does so specifically in order to look at a number of extremely interesting questions, and so I can't really call most of it gratuitous.

(Admittedly, I'm biased too; I read a great academic article on this book before ever reading the novel itself. Academia spoils me in so many ways!)

The book takes place in two timelines. In one, a Jesuit priest, the last surviving member of his order's expedition to another planet, returns home utterly destroyed in a number of ways to general calumny (see above, re: angst and pain) and refuses to explain what happened, while the other tracks the expedition from the beginning as sentient life is discovered in another planet. Central issues: God, religion, the ethics of celibacy, the ethics of interplanetary exploration and interference (which the article I read focused on), the purpose of art.


I have to say, first off, that the idea that the first expedition to another planet would be piloted by, specifically, a religious group (in total secrecy, no less) makes me profoundly uncomfortable, and while I don't argue with the premise that the Jesuits would want to undertake this, I wish that the nonreligious characters who made up part of that expedition had expressed any of that discomfort instead of just going 'yay field trip!' I mean, I don't blame them for the feelings of 'yay field trip!' because, dude, other planets, but . . . it comes across to me as a significant ethical question, and as they're all presented as very ethical people I feel that the point should at least have been brought up.

On the other hand, one thing I really did like was the swiftness and unexpectedness with which the end of the book took place. I can see how people wouldn't like that, after all the build-up, and the pacing was definitely slow at the beginning, but for me it really drove home the point that you can't know how you're going to affect things, and you might cause damage without knowing what you do. And I liked the unexpectedness of death; too often in novels all deaths are Terribly and Hugely Significant and Could Have Been Avoided. (Also, I was screaming at the characters throughout the novel to be more careful about what they were altering - clearly none of them had read that much sci-fi - so it was nice to be vindicated.)

Also I found Supaari the most interesting character.

One little nitpicky thing that made me roll my eyes in a tolerant sort of way. Does it seem weird to anyone else that someone would automatically assume a modern-day Sephardic Jew would have an ancestral grudge against Spaniards for being kicked out of Spain in the 1400s? Admittedly, my family and most of the people I know are of Ashkenazi descent, not Sephardic, but . . . come on, Jews have been kicked out of everywhere. If you're going for grudges, why look that far back?

Anyways, the book definitely has flaws, but it's also very thought-provoking and packs a huge punch; as always, if any of you have read, I would love to hear what you think. And now, to counter the angst: moar sunshine! I think I may be getting a tiny sunburn and I DON'T CARE. *smug*

Comments

[newredshoes]

It's been aaaaages since I read those books, but I remember really enjoying them. And Mendes! Mendes is a badass.

Can't wait to hear what you think about Children of God! The ending of that story has stayed with me much longer than any of the other details.

[rymenhild.livejournal.com]

Does it seem weird to anyone else that someone would automatically assume a modern-day Sephardic Jew would have an ancestral grudge against Spaniards for being kicked out of Spain in the 1400s?

In my experience, again, primarily with Ashkenazic Jews, we Jews hold ancestral grudges going back at least four thousand years, so I don't think this is weird!

[ashen_key]

that the nonreligious characters who made up part of that expedition had expressed any of that discomfort instead of just going 'yay field trip!'

Suppose it depends on how comfortable they would be doing so, or possible consequences of speaking up? I mean, nonreligious sentiment isn't exactly always WELCOMED. Just as a thought.

Does it seem weird to anyone else that someone would automatically assume a modern-day Sephardic Jew would have an ancestral grudge against Spaniards for being kicked out of Spain in the 1400s?

Yes. But, I'm an atheist raised by atheist. Also, if we objected to people who had killed, tortured and otherwise been rather unpleasant to atheists in the past, we'd, um. *thinks*




Only hang out with ourselves? The idea of holding grudges that long is very, very strange to me.

[vivien]

I have to say, first off, that the idea that the first expedition to another planet would be piloted by, specifically, a religious group (in total secrecy, no less) makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

You know, I had thought of this, too, when I first read it, because the Jesuits (or the Black Robes, as my mom, who most definitely left the church of her youth calls them)are not known for their loving and compassionate encounters with indigenous tribes. However, I think why it was not an issue for the crew in the novel (and therefore not for me as I read) was because they trusted Sandoz and not the order as a whole, necessarily. It was less a "church expedition" and more an "expedition we're going on with Sandoz who trust to do the right thing". That's how I thought of it, anyway, along with the 'yay field trip!' aspect.

I've often wondered what would happen if we found alien races with as strong (or stronger) religious beliefs as our own (or they found us). I don't think it would be pretty.

[shati.livejournal.com]

I have to say, first off, that the idea that the first expedition to another planet would be piloted by, specifically, a religious group (in total secrecy, no less) makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

I think the author talks about this in the intro, if there's an intro, or somewhere else, if there isn't. IIRC, what she says will not necessarily de-qualm you, although I don't remember it well enough to be specifical. Although she is probably right about missionary groups being likely to go early on. P. S. Does your uncomfortableness relate at all to the books themselves coming from a religious (Christian? at least Abrahamic, I don't remember) place? / There is the fact that, well, the point is they fuck it up amazingly. But I guess the flip side of that point is the point is also that they fuck it up despite doing everything mostly right, which means you can only read so much unethic into the expedition itself before the book falls apart as a book, so ... I need more caffeine.

I should reread The Sparrow; I was young enough when I read it initially to take everything for granted as perfectly normal. Which ... I feel there are better books to take for granted as perfectly normal.

Am I speaking English? 9/10 dentists say, "Very possibly not." The other says, "Non. Et pourquoi est-ce que tu ask un dentist?"

[the_croupier]

I read both books when they were first published, so I'm fuzzy on many details, but I found them both engrossing ('enjoyed' isn't quite the word, I'd say) and very worthwhile. And more than one harrowing image from them have stuck with me ever since. I'm pleased to see how many people in this thread have read them, because I rarely get the chance to recommend them--they aren't for every fan of SF. (Though I do get a kick out of it when I do get the chance, because they're the last thing people who know me well in RL would expect me to recommend.)

Back during my days in the book trade, I was one of a small group of people who had the chance to have dinner with the author twice (when both books came out). She's just as thoughtful a person as her work suggests. The two books were her way to work through her Catholic heritage at a time when she was seriously thinking about embracing Judaism (which she eventually did). Her third book, A Thread of Grace, was one she had wanted to write from the start, but felt she needed experience as a writer to do well. So Sparrow and Children were also, in a way, projects she worked on while she was researching and laying out Thread.

As for the arguments people have been bringing to bear about both books, I think good points are made. For what it's worth, the bearing of a grudge against Spaniards I took as a reflection of the immense weight of history ever-present as a backdrop to the book--something I think every religious figure in the story is aware of to some degree and is reacting to in some way or another.

As for the question of a religious group leading the first expedition, I would say two things:

1) The notion that the secular governments would still be quarreling over details while the Vatican simply picked an expedition and sent them on their way is not completely impossible, but is more importantly, quite, quite funny. I've always believed we're supposed to accept that as what actually happens, but also appreciate it as a bit of an affectionate joke about representative governments by comparison to authoritarian hierarchies.

2) As we see very clearly from the appearance of the Pope early in Children, the Church of Russell's books is very different from the one we know in many respects. I suspect the lack of concern by secular scientists in agreeing to join the expedition is a reflection of that fact.

[schiarire.livejournal.com]

Ah, it sounds like we do not have the same edition (I have Shati's, which does not have an introduction [sorry, tongzhi!] but DOES have "A Conversation with Mary Doria Russell"). I can transcribe it for you if you like; topics include her desire to write a "first contact" novel in a world that has 'exhausted' (I can't keep the '' off!) "first contact", her conversion to Judaism, and "the moral of the story". If this is what your edition lacks!

[jezrana.livejournal.com]

I'm skimming my flist on someone else's computer in an apartment with no wireless, so this is mostly to remind myself to come back here and read/respond more thoroughly when I get home Tuesday.

For now, I will say that both The Sparrow and Children of God are, for me, in that category where I am completely blinded to any faults the book has by my adoration of the characters. Emilio! Mendes! Jimmy! Anne! *clutches characters to bosom*

[ristrettoette.livejournal.com]

Other people have now said pretty much everything I was going to say. But: I think that the problems I have with the book (which are the same as the problems I have with parts of Dorothy Dunnett's books) are, aside from melodrama*, a certain preciousness of situation which is off-putting. I think this is what bothers me, also, about the Sephardic issue-- not that it's an implausible situation so much as it is an overly pretty and convenient one. I can't stand it when it feels as though events in books have been contrived at so an author can inject his or her private fascinations. Russell's are less thoroughly researched than Dunnett's, which makes them more obvious, but both authors are equally guilty.

I'm curious to hear what you think of Children of God... I remember not liking it as much. I'm vaguely planning to read Russell's newest book, which apparently involves T.E. Lawrence. As T.E. Lawrence is a character who seems to invite melodrama and overpreciousness, I experience dread.

*and by melodrama I really mean this tendency you mentioned to pile more and more suffering upon the main character, the better to make him holy with. This is something which both authors sort of disavow, but still do.

thanks much

[(Anonymous)]

omg.. good work, guy