“Death’s End” by Cixin Liu
I have no idea if Cixin Liu has ever seen an episode of “Star Trek,” but his “Death’s End” is quite the rebuttal of some basic philosophical premises of the show.
The physics premise of his novel is that the explanation for dark matter is that the reasons for the shortage of matter in the universe are the results of continuous interstellar warfare. This warfare has been so lethal on an evolutionary scale that species in the know keep the locations of their home worlds secret. Now there is warfare in “Star Trek,” but everyone knows where Earth, Vulcan, Romulus, etc., are, and in the end the premises of reason and peace allow the Federation to expand.
In “Death’s End,” there is no reasoning with the enemy, no quarter given, for everyone has weapons that make the Death Star look like amateur hour. The heroine, Cheng Xin, would be very comfortable on Picard’s “Enterprise,” but every time she makes a decision based upon peace or compassion the story proves her wrong. Love in her world is a beautiful mistake, while ambition and will to power are the stars to steer by.
Another difference between these two universes has to do with gender. In the “Trek” world, economic liberation has led to sexual liberation and women have become as strong as men, willing to die for the safety of Earth and honor of the Federation. In the “Death’s End” universe, the same technological prosperity has led to men becoming more effeminate, and when danger lurks people complain about the shortage of “real men” to defend humanity. Now I grant that Star Fleet might not be representative of humanity, since we meet very few Federation civilians in the shows, but I can only interpret the works in front of me.
In “Star Trek,” the truth usually wins out. Revealing the truth of any given matter usually leads to a peaceful, diplomatic resolution of conflicts. In “Death’s End,” major decisions are made without all the information, which is often not available until it is too late, and while there is truth available to the readers, the people in the book usually interpret events through the distorting lens of their emotional needs.
“Death’s End” plot is stretched out by Cixin Liu’s loyalty to physics. Since there is no faster than light travel, for Xin to remain our point of view character, she keeps going in and out of hibernation to see later stages in this warlike future history for which she is so emotionally unsuited. I shared her unease with the story’s events, but for different reasons. I suspect that the universe would be even more peaceful than “Star Trek,” since any civilization advanced enough for interstellar warfare wouldn’t need to go to war and that cooperation is as powerful an evolutionary engine as conflict. But it would be hard to create SF drama in a world with fewer problems than we have instead of more.
The physics premise of his novel is that the explanation for dark matter is that the reasons for the shortage of matter in the universe are the results of continuous interstellar warfare. This warfare has been so lethal on an evolutionary scale that species in the know keep the locations of their home worlds secret. Now there is warfare in “Star Trek,” but everyone knows where Earth, Vulcan, Romulus, etc., are, and in the end the premises of reason and peace allow the Federation to expand.
In “Death’s End,” there is no reasoning with the enemy, no quarter given, for everyone has weapons that make the Death Star look like amateur hour. The heroine, Cheng Xin, would be very comfortable on Picard’s “Enterprise,” but every time she makes a decision based upon peace or compassion the story proves her wrong. Love in her world is a beautiful mistake, while ambition and will to power are the stars to steer by.
Another difference between these two universes has to do with gender. In the “Trek” world, economic liberation has led to sexual liberation and women have become as strong as men, willing to die for the safety of Earth and honor of the Federation. In the “Death’s End” universe, the same technological prosperity has led to men becoming more effeminate, and when danger lurks people complain about the shortage of “real men” to defend humanity. Now I grant that Star Fleet might not be representative of humanity, since we meet very few Federation civilians in the shows, but I can only interpret the works in front of me.
In “Star Trek,” the truth usually wins out. Revealing the truth of any given matter usually leads to a peaceful, diplomatic resolution of conflicts. In “Death’s End,” major decisions are made without all the information, which is often not available until it is too late, and while there is truth available to the readers, the people in the book usually interpret events through the distorting lens of their emotional needs.
“Death’s End” plot is stretched out by Cixin Liu’s loyalty to physics. Since there is no faster than light travel, for Xin to remain our point of view character, she keeps going in and out of hibernation to see later stages in this warlike future history for which she is so emotionally unsuited. I shared her unease with the story’s events, but for different reasons. I suspect that the universe would be even more peaceful than “Star Trek,” since any civilization advanced enough for interstellar warfare wouldn’t need to go to war and that cooperation is as powerful an evolutionary engine as conflict. But it would be hard to create SF drama in a world with fewer problems than we have instead of more.