Russell, Mary Doria: The Sparrow
The Sparrow
Writer: Mary Doria Russell
Genre: Science Fiction
Pages: 405
This was a book mentioned often, and by different people, when I was at the Odyssey Writer’s Workshop in the summer of 2005. The context of it focused on the book’s anthropological and religious basis against the backdrop of science fiction, so I was intrigued, and eventually got the book so it could sit on my shelf until I was ready to read it.
The Sparrow is mine and emerald_ibis’s challenge book for September/October. Yes, I know, I’m reading fast. However, as I’m working on my own SF, and read the SF of others, I’ve been struck by the sense of a lack of humanity and soul in most of these works. I don’t mean this is a criticism, but rather an observation. So much attention and detail goes into the setting and the plot that even if the characters are developed, they often feel like puppets in a play. Warchild was a surprise and joy for me to read, because while it had all the science fictional conventions, it focused on emotion and character in such a way it’s almost impossible to not be affected.
I suspected I would have a similar reaction to The Sparrow, simply because everything I knew about it lent itself to quiet, literary-type of fiction rather than the flash of popular SF.
My reaction, in truth, is quite different from that of Warchild, but this book has left a definite impression on me. I’ll go so far to say that if you’re a reader who rarely or never reads science fiction, but you really want to give the genre a shot? This is a book you should start with. It focuses on people, on soul, on life, tragedy, everything. And despite the book’s flaws (as I perceive them), it’s still amazingly well-done.
FINALLY. I have found a book that not only has multiple POVs, but is also written in the omniscient voice and is DONE WELL!!! Writers, please take note: it’s hard to explain WHY this use of omniscient voice works so wonderfully. I suspect it has to do with the deliberation of the narrative, and how right from the start, you know that this is not a book to rush through, but to rather absorb and ponder. I got the sense that when Russell “head-hops”, it’s done with deliberate precision, whereas with other writers, it’s often an accident, or done so badly your eyes bleed. With Russell, it’s barely noticeable, and I am very, very impressed. If you want to write the omniscient point of view, this is the woman to study.
I was also very interested in the structure of this book: chapters flip back and forth between the present (the mission is over and the sole survivor is facing a brutal inquiry) and the past (how the mission got started to begin with and how things played out). I know LeGuin does this in her The Dispossessed, but there, it’s a single point of view, and here, as you’ve already figured out, it’s omniscient and you get nearly everyone’s perspective on both sides. And because the tone and style is such that you can’t rush through, you can accept the structure for what it is. In a way, Russell tells you that you’ll get your answers, but you must allow the story to unfold as it’s supposed to. I’d love to use this structure myself one of these days, but it’ll take a particular story to use it, and so we’ll see.
There is so much to absorb here: the characters, the situation, the theological questions of god and faith, the anthropological question of the societies of Rakhat. There are times when the book holds you at a distance, and there are times when you are so intimately close with the characters you feel like you know them inside out. These moments are powerful. The voices of the various characters are distinct, the relationships distinct, and everything about them is human. Part of this book broke my heart, and parts made be laugh out loud or grin with true joy. But right from the start, I knew this book would break my heart. It did. Not as viscerally as I would’ve liked, but it did.
If I have one complaint about this novel, it is the distance. Granted, telling this story from solely, say, Emilio’s point of view would’ve been difficult and gut-wrenching, because oftentimes, he could barely comprehend his own story. But there were times when I wanted to feel more than I was able, but in some ways, it’s just as well that I observed or was told the events. The telling bugged me. Truly, this book IS storyTELLING, but sometimes I felt the information garnered from a particular scene was unnecessary or dull. In the end, I can gather everything together and see the completed pieces of the puzzle, but sometimes, the slow reading became too slow, and that happened when there was telling.
But one of the amazing things about this novel, for me, is that despite the omniscient voice of warning, as well as my inner sense of knowing everything wasn’t as black and white as it seemed, I was always surprised at how events came about. Like watching the metaphorical train wreck: you know what’s coming, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it, and the characters are hardly the wiser.
But overall, the novel is a satisfying experience. I will definitely read more from this writer. I should also note that this is a book I see myself reading again when the time is right. :) And again, I recommend this book for people who don’t mind quiet reads with focus on human nature and the spiritual thereafter. Whether you read SF or not, this is definitely a book that deserves a chance. It focuses on the aspects of SF that are easily ignored, and if you’re like me, and tired of flashes and bangs and all the shiny detail and technobabble jargon (though admittedly, there is some babble here, but not much), then this is the SF book for you.