“Solaris” by Stanisław Lem

 

203 pages, Arrow Books, ISBN-13: 978-0099063803

So, where in the hell does one begin with Solaris by Stanisław Lem? Well, in a nutshell, it is a deeply philosophical science fiction novel that follows a crew of scientists on a research satellite orbiting a planet-girdling, sentient ocean-like creature and their attempts to communicate with and understand this utterly alien intelligence. Seems simple enough but never forget, in Lem’s universe things are never this straightforward, for as he once lamented: “Behind every glorious façade there is always hidden something ugly”. Yikes. So, this is not light reading and rather unusual in Sci-Fi, seeing as such pessimism is rare in a genre that typically considers the future as the place where Everything’s Gonna Be Alright. Maybe this is why Lem provokes such mixed feelings among other Sci-Fi fans; I suppose this should come as no surprise, seeing as how critics of Sci-Fi often fault the medium for leaving deep psychological depths untouched.

Which is something you can’t say about Solaris, which is a mind-f**k of a book if ever there was one. The scientists attempting to connect with the alien intelligence on the planet find this creature taking their inner psychological aspects and bringing them forth into the world – made real, as it were, often in surprising and mostly disturbing ways; as a result, the exploration of this strange world and the creature inhabiting it takes on a disturbing, dreamlike quality, a haunting that the human visitors cannot escape, since it seems grounded in their own minds. Here we find another of Lem’s themes: the limitations of human intelligence and how it plays an important role in defining the drama and tension of the story. The naïve positivism (as seen by Lem) in so much Sci-Fi – especially Western Sci-Fi – is instead replaced by a realistic skepticism that challenges many of our most basic assumptions.

Lem had a rather contemptuous view of much of the Sci-Fi being written in his time, seeing as so many of the “Aliens” encountered weren’t really alien at all; that is, they were quite recognizable by humans (indeed, often resembling humans but for a few minor differences), communicated with humans in ways all could understand, understood humans (mostly) and their motivations, and so on and so forth. But the question Lem puts to us in Solaris is what would happen if humans encountered an alien lifeform – a truly alien lifeform – that was unrecognizable as a lifeform at all? That did not or could not communicate in ways we understood? Did not or could not understand human drives and motivations? That was beyond our understanding? That was…well, alien? If Solaris is anything to go by, the results of such a close encounter would be disastrous for the humans involved, seeing as our minds couldn’t handle such a meeting.

Since his death in 2006, Lem’s reputation as a writer of speculative Sci-Fi has improved (isn’t that always the case?) and his work has come in for a reappraisal. I am one such person, for when I first read Solaris I wanted nothing more than to set fire to the damn thing and then read other, better books. But as I have matured, I can better appreciate where he was coming from and what he was trying to say, so much so that I myself now have a vaguely contemptuous view of much Sci-Fi and their so-called aliens. So, by all means, read Solaris and try to grasp the Deep Thoughts that Lem was trying to explore, but be prepared to be alternately intrigued and frustrated by a writer writing on a plane most of us cannot reach.