Seveneves: big but worth it.

Neal Stephenson’s new novel, Seveneves, has many obsessions, but it has one feature that British readers in particular will find endearing. Stephenson has an informed interest in the explorer Ernest Shackleton’s astounding 1914/1916 voyage to the Antarctic, which ended in the loss of the ship Endurance and the near-miraculous rescue of everyone on board. The tale is without a doubt the greatest of British polar stories.
In some ways, Seveneves is very like one of the great Imperial voyages of discovery. For one thing, they were conceived on a massive scale, and so is this book. But in addition, these behemoth expeditions could never just leave port and go somewhere. There had to be a band, waving crowds, and ideally a monarch, to send them off. In the same way, Stephenson can’t just publish a book. There is now a Seveneves Community (!) with a web site, online discussion and Lord knows what else. Over-confidence, or insecurity?
Either way, I haven’t read a book in ages that I could talk about for so long. If you thought “hard science fiction” was in the doldrums, try this. For a fraction of the price of attending MIT, you get robotics, genetics, ecology, astronomy (mainly celestial mechanics), nuclear engineering (and all the ways a reactor can kill you), astronautics, and smaller doses of other sciences I can’t think of. The background work must have been killing. The author’s suspiciously well-informed interest in firearms, so dominant in his last outing Reamde, is restrained here but still pops up from time to time.
To avoid too much of a spoiler, let’s just say that the plot is built on about the biggest scale imaginable. It kept me reading despite the fact that for most of the book, almost everything that happens is unpleasant, for the human race as a whole or for individuals. Unlike most writers in his tradition, William Gibson aside, Stephenson can create characters you care about (even female ones, rarer yet). But he does not believe in wasting words on character development that could be used to describe how two pieces of metal are joined together. Nor does he trust the punter to cope with human speech. Jane Austen never had to tell the reader: “Kath Two understood that the woman was just trying to strike up a conversation.”
Stephenson, of course, has one foot in cyberpunk and that means an acute interest in jury-rigged arrays of wiring, ideally involving zip ties or duct tape, and in other feats of informal engineering. The seeker after this stuff will leave Seveneves happy. But there are also some fine sideways-glance jokes about contemporary events and people, and a plentiful supply of twists, turns and big reveals.
You’ve probably decided by now if this is for you. But even if not, let’s hope Stephenson does more like it. He has a talent, and that talent is for writing books. He also has a total untalent for co-authoring books, such as the grim Mongoliad series. Anything with his byline is worth a read. Anything with his name alongside someone else’s is just a doorstop.

About Martin Ince

UK-based science and higher education journalist, big strengths in universities and university ranking, futures, media strategy and training, Earth and space sciences
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