The sequel to one of my recent favorite SF debuts proved to be mildly entertaining, but failed to recapture the enchantment and the thrill of discovery that attracted me to the setting in the first place. I liked the original idea of writing a "Lord of the Flies" set on a distant planet with an incredibly rich and alien biosphere, adapted in particular to a dark and mostly frozen planet (bioluminescence, heat sinks dropped by plants into the volcanic core, etc). I also liked the extrapolation of the desert island dillema over several generations, where the characters have to reinvent social structures from scratch in the complete absence of any support from history, technology and tradition.
"Mother of Eden" skips several generations more, seeing the original settlers (the Family) spreading out in to the Dark and multiplying into several competing settlements, past the tribal phase and into several attempts at hierarchical organizations. The leaders of the first book exodus from Circle Valley (John Redlantern, Jeff the Watcher, David) have become cult figures, prophet-like ancestors who are revered and lionized by their respective offsprings. The religious aspects of the plot are much more clearly underlined in this second book, with a Chosen One, Messiah-like figure being central to the plot.
Starlight is a young woman from an almost forgotten place - Knee Tree Grounds - whose inhabitants live in a sort of socialist commune, sharing equally in all activities like food production, raising children, political decisions. Starlight is not the sort of person to accept the status-quo, the stagnating and frankly boring existence in this iddylic and isolated community:
What's the point of life if as soon as we stop being kids all we think about is having kids? That's like going round and round in a circle, and never getting anywhere at all.
Her restlessness takes her to the next big settlement (Veeklehouse), where she catches the eye of a handsome and rich young aristocrat from across the world's ocean (Greenstone). Starlight accepts his proposal of marriage and crosses over into new territory, to New Earth where she becomes both the consort of the future Headman and the figurehead of the local religion - the bearer of the only true Earth artefact surviving the original crash, a gold ring belonging to Gela, the mother of all people on Eden.
Starlight is now torn between her socialist upbringing and the tyranny of the new place, a feudal society where the nominal king (Headman) is indebted to his warlords, and where the Teacher sect is perverting the histories of the Family to negate the role of women in society and to affirm the supremacy of men and the rightness of slavery for the lesser races and for the poor. By going against the Teachers and the warlords, Starlight and her husband Greenstone are setting themselves up as martyrs of a new revolution.
No one in that pile could do what they liked, not even the Headman. Everyone was weighed down by someone above, or kept from falling by someone below.
The ideas proposed here by Chris Beckett are cool in principle, and the New Earth is still a spectacular world to explore, but the shortcomings of the first novel are raised to uncomfortable levels here. The exposition has all the finesse of a charging rhinoceros, with cardboard characters and predictable plot. This lack of subtlety brings down what I hoped would be a great addition to a promising new science-fiction epic, and makes me wonder if I should bother with the third installment (a lot of threads are left hanging from a high cliff by the last page).
I don't like to end my review on the last bitter comment, so I will include last one of the few quotable and intriguing ideas prposed by the followers of Jeff the Watcher:
Whoever we are, we're really just the world looking out at itself, aren't we?