Aurora is a 2015 novel by American science fiction author Kim Stanley Robinson. The novel concerns a generation ship built in the style of a Stanford torus traveling to Tau Ceti in order to begin a human colony. The novel's primary narrating voice is the starship's artificial intelligence. The novel was well-received by critics.
Ho sempre amato l'approccio scientifico e sociologico di KSR. Non si preoccupa solo della fattibilità scientifica, ma anche delle dinamiche sociali. In questo caso, la storia di una colonia sparata verso un astro lontano offre spunti notevoli sui cambi generazionali.
The two great strengths of Aurora, which are a running strength in every KSR novel I've read, are characters who grow, and sensitivity to ecology. The most interesting character is the narrator, the quantum computer running the generation ship, who begins to write a narrative of the ship's voyage at the request of its engineer. As the ship-narrator tells the story, it develops both narrative skill and a personality through the act of telling. It becomes increasingly self-aware and self-reflective, with some delightfully meta sections as the ship muses about the nature of metaphor and other narrative techniques. The narrative structure, the ship's perhaps-sentience, and the material recounted are wonderfully in sync. When the ship's self-consciousness is young, it tells the story simply about the events in the life of a child. As the ship matures, so does the child, and the narrative becomes more complex. Towards the end, there …
The two great strengths of Aurora, which are a running strength in every KSR novel I've read, are characters who grow, and sensitivity to ecology. The most interesting character is the narrator, the quantum computer running the generation ship, who begins to write a narrative of the ship's voyage at the request of its engineer. As the ship-narrator tells the story, it develops both narrative skill and a personality through the act of telling. It becomes increasingly self-aware and self-reflective, with some delightfully meta sections as the ship muses about the nature of metaphor and other narrative techniques. The narrative structure, the ship's perhaps-sentience, and the material recounted are wonderfully in sync. When the ship's self-consciousness is young, it tells the story simply about the events in the life of a child. As the ship matures, so does the child, and the narrative becomes more complex. Towards the end, there is a big payoff to having the ship as a character, because it can tell the story of complex orbital maneuvers as it attempts to decelerate using slingshot maneuvers. I know, it sounds dry, but it's fascinating and exciting.
Aurora is genre aware, in conversation with KSRs earlier, more optimistic takes on the idea of humans living outside of the earth, as well as, of course, the entire trope of "something has gone wrong on the generation ship." And oh boy, what hasn't gone wrong on the generation ship? In his exploration of the ways that the ecology of a closed, artificial environment could fail, KSR goes further than any SF writer I've read.
It's a big idea book, too, with a clear environmental message, something that KSR goes on to explore even further in The Ministry for the Future, though here it's held together more by the scaffolding of a narrative. It has the best answer to the Fermi paradox I've seen, though to tell you what would be a spoiler.
Other than some Asimov, a couple of science-fiction books I read in middle school, and The Martian, I haven't read too many sci-fi novels. Part of what turned me off from the genre is that a lot of works were fantasy veiled in technology and pseudoscience. Another is the lack of attention to social and environmental issues that often elude many science-fiction writers, one of the main critiques of sci-fi that I've gathered from my recent research on feminist futurology.
Aurora checks all of these boxes. But good science necessities detail and the author walked a fine line between specificity and engagement, for me. I felt like I had to slog through the beginning a bit. I was lost in the weeds, perhaps. That's why I knocked off a star (I'd remove only half if I could).
But the payoff was worth it. Robinson left no stone unturned (except …
Other than some Asimov, a couple of science-fiction books I read in middle school, and The Martian, I haven't read too many sci-fi novels. Part of what turned me off from the genre is that a lot of works were fantasy veiled in technology and pseudoscience. Another is the lack of attention to social and environmental issues that often elude many science-fiction writers, one of the main critiques of sci-fi that I've gathered from my recent research on feminist futurology.
Aurora checks all of these boxes. But good science necessities detail and the author walked a fine line between specificity and engagement, for me. I felt like I had to slog through the beginning a bit. I was lost in the weeds, perhaps. That's why I knocked off a star (I'd remove only half if I could).
But the payoff was worth it. Robinson left no stone unturned (except for intentional dramatic effect) in describing the the "hard," social, and ecological sciences and their effect on the characters' emotional states. It's a novel you get lost in and that becomes engrossing by the end. It also contains one of the most beautiful and interesting falling actions I've read in a long time.