If you had the chance to merge empathetically with any living being — with all living beings at once — to experience the world from those other perspectives and thereby gain immense wisdom and power, would you do it?
What if it meant being banished by your community who would rightly fear you for that untold power? Would you do it then? In Proxima's Gift, that is the choice facing Azami, a young woman struggling to find the limits of what is possible for her.
Three hundred years after an apocalyptic solar event, the story follows the Children of Proxima who live in a remote mountainous region of Japan. The same event that killed most of the global population, caused a new organ to grow within the bodies of Proxima’s Children, an organ that has given them a sixth sense: The sense of empathy. They call that sense the “glow,” and have found that it gives them the ability to be completely and intricately connected with each other and with the natural world they live in. The novel takes place over the course of a year, centering on a young woman named Azami who is unable to control her empathetic connections. In order not to be driven insane by this unfiltered onslaught of all the ‘living voices’ around her, she is trying to fully and completely dissolve herself into the natural world and, by doing so, become one of the all-seeing oracles who have overseen and protected the Children of Proxima for hundreds of years. If she cannot, she will be driven mad in the attempt and perish.
Proxima’s Gift by Marc Peter Keane caught my eye when I saw the cool cover and read the blurb. I love apocalyptic/dystopain novels and it even felt like there was a bit of the paranormal when I read about merging.
The solar event that wiped out most of the population and the Gift that was bestowed upon Proxima’s Children was intriguing and I was curious enough to settle in and read the entire book.
It’s a large book, at 587 pages, but that doesn’t intimidate me. I love when I can get the full story in one fell swoop. It kept me interested, but didn’t have me rapidly flipping pages. I didn’t feel that sense of urgency that makes a book exceptional, to me.
Just because a book doesn’t quite work for me, that doesn’t mean it won’t work for you.
In Proxima’s Gift, Marc Peter Keane delivers a luminous and profound meditation on empathy, ecological connection, and human evolution. Best known for his contemplative writing on Japanese gardens and aesthetics, Keane shifts from nonfiction to speculative fiction with remarkable skill, crafting a utopian novel that is as philosophical as it is emotionally resonant.
Set in a far future shaped by a solar cataclysm, the story unfolds in a Japan reimagined—wild, post-technological, and spiritually alive. The descendants of humanity, known as the Children of Proxima, are not only survivors, but also something new: they possess an organ that enables deep empathy, called the glow. This sixth sense forms the social and spiritual fabric of their lives, linking them with one another and with the natural world in a bond that goes beyond language.
The novel is structured in two interwoven narratives. The primary story, set 300 years in the future, follows Azami, a young girl unable to bind with a single lifeform like others do during puberty. Her inability to filter emotional connection through one being leaves her overwhelmed, even endangered by the intensity of the glow. Her spiritual journey toward what’s called total bonding—the ability to connect with all life simultaneously—forms the emotional arc of the book.
Counterbalancing this futuristic storyline is a secondary narrative, told through the diary of a present-day epigeneticist. She and a small group of transformed empaths are traveling across post-apocalyptic Japan in search of a refuge where a new society might be born. Her entries form the mythic origin of the Children of Proxima, adding a hauntingly realistic tone to the novel’s speculative frame.
Azami’s journey is supported by two unforgettable characters: the yamanba, a mysterious and wise forest oracle who has already attained total bonding, and Choga, a hunter-child who becomes her closest companion. Their emotional and spiritual bonds are rendered with depth, nuance, and genuine tenderness. But Azami’s path is anything but linear. Her crisis of self after failing to save a boy, followed by her exile from a jealous village, reveals that growth often comes through suffering, solitude, and difficult return.
Keane’s mastery of Japanese philosophy and cultural archetypes elevates this speculative novel into something richer—a spiritual allegory, an eco-myth, and a speculative ethnography. The novel hums with reverence for nature and the complexity of human emotion, echoing Eastern concepts of interconnectedness, impermanence, and harmony. His portrayal of the glow is not just a narrative device—it’s a metaphor for empathy as power, and for the soul’s longing to be more deeply seen and more deeply bonded.
Stylistically, the writing is elegant and immersive, with a slow-burning beauty that rewards patient reading. The alternating timelines are masterfully balanced, with each chapter adding richness to the other. The diary entries are particularly poignant, grounding the novel’s more speculative elements in a startlingly plausible apocalyptic reality.
Marc Peter Keane has given us more than a story—he’s given us a gift of his own.
From the first mention of the Satoyama I was hooked. Marc Peter Keane has elegantly woven two timelines envisioning a future of desolation and hope. A future where a new human who can merge with landscape in a semi-paychedelic fashion and experience a connection with nature and the flora and fauna in a mesmerizing way.
I've dipped into a lot of "utopian" fiction this year and even with the narrators hubris towards the end of the novel the vision of the glow is one I deeply connect to. A little Terrence McKenna, maybe some Daniel Quinn and a healthy dose of Japanese mythology.
As noted in other reviews the glossary is essential as you adapt to the world. There's a healthy mix of Japanese language thrown in - easily deciphered with context, the glossary or a passing familiarity.
I found the diary sections particularly engrossing as it really walked us through the origins of the counter narrative and gave context to what the imagined future holds.
Recommend if you're into Solar Punk futurism, hopeful utopias and Japanese folk mythology - it's got a lot to offer.
Captivating, inventive, lyrical, and thought-provoking. Speculative fiction that casts Earth's natural world in the role of otherworldly realm. With a story woven from two ends of a timeline, the book keeps one moving, first slowly and then eagerly, among people, places and eras as it gradually reveals connections. By the end I was torn between wanting to know what was going to happen next and trying to delay having to close the finished book.