Sea of Tranquility

After a long period of not reading fiction, this book was like a cool drink on a hot day. The writing is remarkable; I was hooked by the first sentence and read the entire thing in two days. It’s very well-written!

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“You know the phrase I keep thinking about?” a poet asked, on a different panel, at a festival in Copenhagen. “ ‘The chickens are coming home to roost.’ Because it’s never good chickens.

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It’s never ‘You’ve been a good person and now your chickens are coming home to roost.’ It’s never good chickens. It’s always bad chickens.”

This was my first novel written by Emily St. John Mandel’s novels, but I was so impressed by her writing that when I finished this book I picked up Station Eleven, a best-seller of hers that was made into a TV series for HBO.

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Both of the novels feature a pandemic of such proportions that only 1% of the world’s population remains.

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“If it’s in Vancouver it’s obviously here,” Dov said to Willis, who said, “I’d bet money on it,” and refilled Dov’s water glass.

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“If what’s in Vancouver?” Isaac asked. He was nine.

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“Nothing,” they said in unison, and felt no guilt at all because it didn’t feel like a lie.

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Pandemics don’t approach like wars, with the distant thud of artillery growing louder every day and flashes of bombs on the horizon. They arrive in retrospect, essentially. It’s disorienting. The pandemic is far away and then it’s all around you, with seemingly no intermediate step.

The reality of that kind of life on Earth was initially uncomfortable to read about and consider. But, really, it’s a possibility that doesn’t seem so wild after Covid.

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This book has to do with time travel, with the weaving of stories through time and space, and love (of course).

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“I’m not saying these things add up to any kind of definite proof that we’re living in a simulation,” Zoey had said, an hour ago in her office.

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“I’m saying I think there’s enough here to justify an investigation.”

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How do you investigate reality? My hunger is a simulation, I told myself, but I wanted a cheeseburger. Cheeseburgers are a simulation. Beef is a simulation. (Actually, that was literally true. Killing an animal for food would get you arrested both on Earth and in the colonies.) I opened my eyes and thought, The roses are a simulation. The scent of roses is a simulation.

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“What would an investigation look like?” I’d asked her.        

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Whole-heartedly recommended.

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