SUMMARY: In the end, the book is a not-very-effective haunted house story interlaced with a bare-bones attempt to discuss a few ideas. The Alien Ship in question remains a total mystery to the reader which undercuts any sort of understanding. The book builds up to a very brief payoff around the three-quarters mark, but that's solved almost immediately. The ideas discussed in the book are discussed exceptionally briefly and as a philosophical sketch more than anything. The main character is generally unlikable and the only character that is interesting is mostly relegated to "total villain" status.
There were some effective scenes, but they connected to and resulted in very little in terms of actual events, which is disappointing.
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Minor Spoilers Below
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The best way to characterize this novel, I think, is: haunted house story with spaceships. Only secondarily would I call it a "book of ideas."
That may sound reductionist (and to some degree it is), but I think that captures most of the essence of the story. In brief, what happens is that the generation ship Argonos is going around searching for worlds to colonize and has been doing it for so long they literally can't remember when the ship was built. They come to a world, which they call Antioch, and explore the abandoned settlement there, where they discover signs of a slaughter that makes them retreat back to the ship. Later on, they discover an alien spaceship nearby. The rest of the novel is more or less about exploring the alien ship, which seems to be possessed by some malevolent force.
So, basically: find ship, explore ship, creepy things happen, try to run away from ship. It's basically the standard haunted house plot--find house, explore house, creepies happen, escape from house. But it doesn't do it all that well.
The difficulty is that the book seems to be marketed as a "book of ideas," which seems like it would sort of let it off the hook. After all, theoretically a "book of ideas" can have a little slackness in the plot department so long as it deals with the ideas well. But the book doesn't, really. There are a few segments--I can count them on one hand--where they discuss an actual abstract idea, but they're brief and fairly shallow. At one point, two main characters enter into a discussion of theodicy ("why does God allow evil to happen"). The discussion is maybe about two or three pages long and consists mostly of one of the characters giving a Deism for Dummies monologue, after which the subject is dropped. There are a number of other topics that the book briefly touches on (or suggests) but never actually explores, which is frustrating.
So on the one hand, we have a book of ideas that doesn't really explore ideas. On the other, we have a fairly ineffective haunted house story. The two are fine together, but one of them has to pick up the slack for the other. In this book, neither do, and we're let down at the end.
I should expand a bit on why I felt the "haunted house" angle was ineffective as the book implemented it.
In the book, the Alien Ship is described as unfathomable and unknowable--there's a suggestion throughout the book that the Ship itself is somehow "alive," or is at least capable of conscious action. That never goes away and we readers are left with no idea what the ship is, or wants, or its wider purpose. Even in movies like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, we're given a reason--the guy and his family are cannibals and they want human meat. And even in books where an explicit aim is not stated, we can intuit something about it--Hill House wants to keep Eleanor there forever with the rest of the spirits. Cujo, whose entire practical purpose of the book was to be a murderdog, is given at least some reason why he acts the way he does. Even in Lovecraft, whose antagonists are *meant* to be unfathomable, have at least some logic behind the terror: Deep Ones want to breed with us, Cthulhu predates and shatters the psyche.
We don't have that here besides "the Ship wants to kill us." We don't know why, we don't know why it needs to kill, and we don't ever figure out what it precisely is. Why does the ship switch on gravity and kill a character? Just because. Why does the ship kill colonies and put people on meathooks? Just because. Why does the ship make people crazy and want to commit suicide? Just because.
This isn't inherently bad. Books have pulled it off before--like Haunting of Hill House, which doesn't provide a strong motivation for Hill House--but the horror in those books comes from the interplay of that seat of malevolence and the characters themselves, exploring the depths of their established minds. Was Eleanor really seeing ghosts, or was she losing touch with reality? Did she die in a simple car accident, or was Hill House involved and finally took her? The characterization and ambiguity have to be there.
We don't get that here. We have a few incidents of psychosis among the explorers of the ship, but the story itself underlines that there was nothing wrong with them beforehand. The secondary characters are poorly fleshed out, but there's no question even then that the ship managed to find a psychic lever for these people. The ship made them go crazy just because that's apparently what you do. A character is made to commit suicide by the ship, and we're informed that he would never have even thought of it beforehand. The main characters are otherwise totally unaffected.
Even further, in books and stories where the antagonist force *does* simply kill "just because," there's an internal logic there. Cthulhu drives men mad and that's scary because it underscores our fear of our own insignificance in the universe, a universe where we mean less than nothing. The Walking Man seems to kill "just because," but, for instance in The Stand, that seems to be more or less his purpose: he exists in fear and hate and carnage, the demand for Order turned bloody. He's a reflection of the worst in us and that attracts the worst in us. But there's no logic with the ship: it clings onto the status of "unknown," perhaps, because there's nothing else there, no internal logic to it in the context of the story that connects it to a truly scary concept.
So there's a ship that wants to kill everyone aboard the Argonos for a reason no one can discern (not even the reader) that doesn't much effect the main character. We're just told that creepy things happen for some reason.
Many books do this as the ramp-up to a payoff later on in the story, but here the payoff never happens. There's one fairly creepy event, but it's solved almost immediately by the main character, and it happens three quarters into the book and nothing like it ever occurs again. When I read it, I thought it was going to get that payoff--but I didn't. The book then turns into a protracted escape sequence where the inhabitants attempt to flee the Argonos, and nothing particularly frightening or even tense happens there.
That brings us to the characters. None of them is particularly interesting.
The main character, Bartolomeo, is fairly unlikeable. He's not ever very convincing, though the book seems to disagree: there are several instances where he has to make a minor oration to convince the council of something. The oration itself is bland and deeply unconvincing, yet he somehow carries the day. There's a lot of talk about him being crippled, but it doesn't seem to hold him back that much. He talks about how much he's despised for his infirmity, but you don't see that much of that aside from people disliking him for actual things he's done. He has the confidence and friendship of the captain, the respect of his crew and subordinates, and his only real antagonist is the power-hungry Bishop who's mostly against Bartolomeo because the Bishop's against the captain.
Father Veronica is more palatable, but not massively so. She's more or less the philosophical mouthpiece of the book, but it never gets much beyond lone pronouncements and very brief conversations where her word seems to be given as law. Despite being perhaps the second main character, she's seen relatively infrequently. There's also a (thankfully brief and abortive) attempt to shoehorn her in as a sort of love interest.
Then you have the Bishop, the human antagonist of the novel. I'd argue that he's actually one of the stronger, more interesting characters. A powerful figure on this ship and ambitious, the Bishop actually did have a sincere faith in God and the Church at one point, but unknowingly abandoned that faith over years of politicking and power-seeking. When the Bishop finally realizes how far he has fallen and how much he's lost, it's one of the more powerful moments of pathos in the novel--but the author glosses it over and Bartolomeo blows it off. At the end, he seems to realize he cannot be saved and so (essentially) abdicates and surrenders himself to his end. Again, this is unremarked upon and blown off when, in reality, it's basically the one moment of character growth and redemption (or, rather, an attempt at redemption) in the novel. The book also seems to overlook the fact that, a lot of the time, he's actually *right,* but Bartolomeo just chalks up his opposition to politicking and enmity.
Most other characters are barebones. The Captain seems legitimately well-meaning, if at times desperate to hold on to power. Par, a dwarf from the lower classes, has a larger role in the very beginning of the book, but beyond that is basically just another talking head.
In the end, the book is a not-very-effective haunted house story interlaced with a bare-bones attempt to discuss a few ideas. The Alien Ship in question remains a total mystery to the reader which undercuts any sort of understanding. The book builds up to a very brief payoff around the three-quarters mark, but that's solved almost immediately. The ideas discussed in the book are discussed exceptionally briefly and as a philosophical sketch more than anything. The main character is generally unlikable and the only character that is interesting is mostly relegated to "total villain" status.
There were some effective scenes, but they connected to and resulted in very little in terms of actual events, which is disappointing.