
Exploring the Heavens
Science fiction and faith in Mary Doria Russell's
novels.
By Stephanie Martin
Children of God, by Mary Doria Russell, Villard Books, 1998, 438 pages,
$23.95
Science fiction comes in many guises: space Western, beast-from-the-deep,
rocket science, apocalypse looming; and sometimes it comes as a morally
serious novel of character and ideas, such as Mary Doria Russell, MA'76,
has written. It is impossible to discuss her recent novel, Children of
God, apart from its predecessor, The Sparrow, because the two are really
just one narrative split into manageable halves.
In The Sparrow, wonderful music emanating from space prompts the Society
of Jesus to launch six men and two women on the first interplanetary mission.
The central character, Jesuit priest and linguist Emilio Sandoz, is driven
less by the hope of converting others than by the need to seek for himself
the reality of God. His experiences on the planet Rakhat first inspire
an overwhelming sense of God's purpose and then shatter his faith-beyond
repair? Children of God is essentially the complex answer to that question.
The two books portray the excitement of exploring a new world and encountering
intelligent beings there; the characters experience love, war, friendship,
cruelty and generosity, hatred and forgiveness. The first book, in particular,
contains a few harrowing scenes of physical suffering that have distressed
some readers. On the other hand, the author's wry sense of humor, in both
dialogue and narrative, lightens the atmosphere.
The action in Children of God takes place between 2060 and 2097 and
back again. There are flashbacks and flash-forwards, scenes on Earth often
alternating with scenes on Rakhat at a different time, but all superbly
controlled so that the reader doesn't get confused (unless the whole concept
of people aging at different rates on different planets makes you dizzy).
New characters are introduced, and the surviving characters from The Sparrow,
as well as some of the events of the previous expedition, are seen from
new and often startling angles.
The means by which three space vehicles travel to Rakhat are described
sketchily and without much conviction, which indicates Russell's true interest
in writing science fiction: not technological wizardry but exploration
of organized religion, the religious impulse, and what it means to be human.
The depiction of Rakhat and its two different but interrelated societies
shows the author's writing skill and her background in anthropology (her
master's degree from Northeastern is in social anthropology). The travelers
first live among the Runa, a friendly, talkative people, gatherers and
craftsmen, among whom fathers tend the children and there is a strong sense
of community. Only later do the humans meet the Jana'ata, who resemble
the Runa physically but are urban and sophisticated, interested in the
arts, luxury, and commerce. It is they who have made the music, but its
source is elusive.
Emilio Sandoz is a very sympathetic hero, smart and warm-hearted and
funny, tough yet extremely vulnerable. Another compelling character is
Supaari VaGayjur, an ambitious Jana'ata merchant, the first of his people
to encounter and befriend the humans. The two make enormous mistakes in
their dealings with each other, but the reader, ultimately, can identify
with both. Most of the secondary characters, which include an amoral but
charismatic ruler, a black pope, and two appealing little girls, one human
and one Runa, are extremely well drawn. A very few of the novel's huge
cast fall into familiar categories or national stereotypes that are forgettable
or even tiresome.
The social-anthropological drama develops as the tiny group from Earth,
despite good intentions, manages to disturb the long-standing balance on
Rakhat and set in motion profound changes. They are no innocents; they
know how much harm explorers on Earth did to native societies, and they
promise themselves not to fall into the same traps. Instead they fall into
different traps. Despite their linguistic skills, they cannot avoid misunderstandings,
some small and funny, some large and tragic.
Though Emilio is technically a missionary, readers should not fear that
this is a missionary tract; there is no attempt to push a Catholic agenda.
Indeed, when the characters discuss religion on Rakhat, they hardly ever
do so in Christian terms. One reader, in the very active Internet discussions
of The Sparrow and Children of God, has objected to the generally favorable
view of the Jesuits, feeling that since the author chose to use Jesuits
as explorers of a new world, she should have addressed the order's perceived
failures during earlier centuries of exploration and conquest on Earth.
It seems just as likely that Russell did not intend to draw such parallels.
Rather, needing a religious hero for her religious quest, she made him
a member of an order that is known to have scientific expertise and could
be portrayed as having the money and clout to mount an interplanetary expedition.
Readers who have strong negative feelings about the Jesuits, however, may
not like the books.
A more subtle problem is whether the author has successfully answered
the questions she poses about God and about the interaction of human striving
and a divine plan. These issues are not original, of course, but recur
in different forms in the Bible and other scriptures and in many works
of fiction. Russell's resolution, after nearly a thousand pages, might
be expected to be written as a crashing climax but in fact comes across
in a minor key. Inevitably it will resonate more successfully with some
readers than with others. In any case, it is a real achievement to have
raised the questions in such a compelling form.
Can Mary Russell be compared with that master of religious science fiction,
C. S. Lewis? His books are shorter and more focused, with a small cast
and a strong Christian message. Some aspects of the events on Rakhat, and
certainly some of the humans' language, might offend his devoted audience,
but the theme of God's presence-or absence-on Earth and other worlds is
similar, and so is the scope of the imagination.
Although long, Sparrow and Children of God would be excellent choices
for book groups, since they are very readable and entertaining and also
provide thought-provoking material for discussion. Is Rakhat a convincing
world? What makes the characters memorable? What about the portrayal of
religion and religious institutions? Is tragedy the inevitable result of
contact with alien peoples? Or you may find that you are debating such
questions with yourself-if you can stop turning the pages of these suspenseful
and poignant books.
Stephanie Martin is the collection manager for history and religion
in the N.U. Libraries.

America and the Sea: A Maritime History
by Benjamin W. Labaree, William M. Fowler Jr., et al.
Mystic Seaport Museum, 1998
A massive, copiously illustrated tome that bills itself as "the
most comprehensive maritime history of the United States available today,"
America and the Sea spans the centuries from the Native American and Viking
maritime activities to the modern era. Fowler, LA'67, a former history
professor at Northeastern and now director of the Massachusetts Historical
Society, coauthored the book with five fellow faculty of the Munson Institute
of American Maritime Studies at Mystic Seaport in Connecticut. Fowler is
an authority on the early history of the U.S. Navy, which has a prominent
role in the book.
That Day in Dallas: Three Photographers Capture on Film
the Day President Kennedy Died
by Richard B. Trask
Yeoman Press, 1998
Trask, MA'71, has compiled the pictures and reminiscences of three
professional photographers assigned to cover President Kennedy's fatal
visit to Dallas on November 22, 1963: White House photographer Cecil Stoughton,
Associated Press photographer James Altgens, and Dallas-based freelance
photographer Jim Murray. Many of the images in the book have not been previously
published. This is the third book that Trask, who is the town archivist
in Danvers, Massachusetts, and his wife, Ethel, have independently researched
and published. CBS news anchorman Dan Rather called Pictures of the Pain,
an earlier compilation by Trask on the JFK assassination, "the definitive
book on the subject."
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