(courtesy 47North)
For the idealists amongst us, there is a seductive idea out there that the only way for humanity is up, and up and UP.
No backward steps, no regression, no evolutionary slips down the hill from whence we came; it’s all forward towards better things and more progressive outcomes and truth.
Lovely though that idea is, and since World War Two there have been enough socially progressive forward steps to warrant investing yourself in it becoming the world’s new reality, the truth is that humanity has shown a marked propensity to dial back progress, either deliberately or accidentally, and to crater itself in place a long way and far from the glittering ideal we optimistically hold dear in our hearts.
It’s all too easy to believe that grim reality will win out over emboldening idealism, but in Meru by S. B. Divya, while that has taken place in part, there is also a sense that all that hope in a better world, and in this case, galaxy, may not be in vain and that perhaps dreaming of the best of things and not the worst may be time well spent.
Set considerably far in the future where humanity in its original form is restricted to Earth with strict limits on consumerism, travel and use of the planet’s resources – this follows a 21st century descent into barbaric ruination of Earth which necessitated some radical change and intervention – and posthuman descendants known as alloys fly through the known universe with ease, Meru is a sage reminder that the only way is not always up (apologies to Yazoo).
She laughed. If it all worked, if she went to Meru and proved her fitness there, if that swayed the majority of alloy voters to alter the compact, she’d make history. No pressure, though.
Five centuries of this regime has ensured that the Earth has returned to much of pre-climate change beauty and wonder, and with a firm denunciation of avarice and greed as part of its philosophy, humanity sees no need to go racing out to the skies and to explore beyond our bright, blue, life-nurturing ball.
But one person dares to dream; Jayanthi, the child of alloy parents who have taken the rare step of living almost permanently down on Earth when almost all of their kin are racing across the stars – the planet is seen as a backwater and humanity the poor evolutionary cousins of their genetically enhanced successors – wants to join a program to test what settlement Meru, the first Earth-like world discovered relatively close to our social system, would be like for humans.
The idea of people leaving Earth is fanciful, not just to alloys whose extremist advocates are militant in their denunciation of humanity doing anything but staying meekly in their long pre-ordained place, but to people themselves who are content to stay put and not rock a boat that has proved to be quite seaworthy in the uncertain seas of galactic life.
But Jayanthi, and her champion Hamsa, an alloy who heads a movement that wants to remove humanity’s shackles – he is opposed by a faction headed by ancient alloy Pushkara who loathes humanity with an intense malevolence – believe the boat should not just be rocked but shattered upon the rocks and that people have learnt from the mistakes of the past and can be trusted to expand out into the universe with mindfulness and care.
(courtesy Macmillan Publishers)
Some truly audacious maneuvering by Jayanthi and Hamsa means the exciting idea of sending people to Meru is given the provisional green light and so Jayanthi sets off for the possible new Earth aboard an alloy called Vaha who is looking to prove herself not only to those around her who see her only as a a disappointment but to herself, that she is capable of realising the potential of her Maker. (In this futuristic world, genetic tinkering is everything and natural births are rare among people and unheard of among alloys.)
Vaha and Jayanthi aren’t quite certain how to approach each other at first but as the long journey to Meru progresses they find themselves growing closer and close, their increasing familiarity and intimacy not only triggering a sea change in their own lives but in the way humans and alloys relate and how they all see the universe around them.
Background machinations could spell the end of this grand experiment however with all regressive forces, headed by Pushkara, working to ensure that whatever progress Jayanthi and Vaha make will not succeed; they are, in essence, doomed to fail and it will a huge amount of hope, effort and self belief, not to mention tenacity, for Meru to become a showcase for the very best humanity can be and what its increased role in the stars could mean for people and alloy alike.
Jayanthi couldn’t decide which alternative was worse: that Vaha had abandoned her or that zie had gone adrift. Either way, zie was lost to her. She’d never hold Vaha in her arms or be held by zir. She’d never see the stars through zir’s true body’s belly. No alloy would want her like Vaha had, assuming zie had truly cared about her at all. The fragile hope of reunion that she’d held now lay in fragments.
Meru is one of those impressively expansive space operas that makes full and powerfully persuasive use of what good, no, great, science fiction can be.
Full with messaging that sits organically and welcomingly a midst a richly meditative but action-packed narrative, Meru is all big ideas and thoughtful exposition sitting easily and immersively alongside each other and which marry intelligence of idea with accessible and emotionally rich storytelling.
Sporting a distinctly queer sensibility that wholeheartedly embraces a future where everything is possible if you have a mind to make it happen – the fact that the well-intentioned regime of the alloys has fossilised in place, doesn’t mean that change can’t happen – Meru grabs hold of the ideal mentioned at the start of this review with gusto and gumption and races to show why it is possible, every roadblock and obstacle in its path notwithstanding.
Infused with a great love of Indian culture and the expectation that humanity is just capable of reaching for the stars but doing something spectacular when it gets there, the novel is a superlative tale of a future lost and then regained and what has to happen to make the impossible possible, and people like Jayanthi and Vaha can change the universe for the better.
Meru is full of vibrancy and optimism, rich intelligence and hope with this singularly well-written and thoughtfully expressed novel singing a love song to possibility and wonder and to the ideal triumphing over the imagination-free, all of it brought to inspiring life by fully-wrought and engaging characters, a narrative as intelligent as it is emotive, and a strong sense that good, enduring things can happen if we’ll only try to bring into existence with everything we have at our disposal.