A note of caution: do not start reading Dark Satellites anywhere near bedtime if you have any intention of going to sleep at a reasonable hour. While the non-linear time frame and multiple points of view in the early chapters of Dark Satellites demand you “lean in” to a somewhat surreal narrative as the post-apocalyptic world of the story comes into focus, you’re going to have a hard time putting this book down. In all honesty, I found the early chapters a little frustrating at first, but I also realized this structure is very deliberately designed to feel that way. It seems disjointed because the world of the story is disjointed and chaotic, so you really feel what the characters are feeling in these early stages, and that’s what pulled me ever deeper as the early chapters shuffled the pieces and major players into place. Each movement away from the primary plot—Poe’s experience during and after his time as a soldier at war—is another proverbial gun on the mantelpiece to be fired later in the story. And once they do start firing…well, just don’t count on sleeping before you’ve turned the last page.
Poe himself is especially enigmatic. Upon introduction, he’s a ruthless soldier at war, and when he is immersed in his element he clearly enjoys the fight and the kill. He is not especially likeable on first impression because he seems so emotionally detached from everyone around him, but he is interesting. He can gouge a dog’s eyes out and drown a man with his bare hands, but he also doesn’t think twice about risking his own life to save a little boy and shows powerful devotion to his family. He has seen and done things that would drive other men to madness, but Poe remains steady, driven by his mission to protect others. As he follows the path to his own destiny he becomes far more likeable, even admirable.
Then there are the satellites themselves, which we don’t actually see, but we know they are the source of all the war, destruction, and bizarre behavior ravaging the general population. Because their source of power is human fear, they become the vehicle of a fascinating study of this very basic human impulse. The satellites take the idea of self-fulfilling prophecy to a terrifying level because they are designed to zero in on a person’s worst fear and rebuild reality around that fear. If you fear your children might be harmed, the satellites make you a predator. If you fear your beloved will reject you, you’ll be rejected. While this novel is clearly science fiction, with elements of fantasy, it also highlights the ways we often let fear control and destroy us in our own world, our own lives—and we don’t need technology run amok to make that happen since the fears are within us all the time. It inspires the kind of self-reflection that might keep you awake even after you’ve turned the last page.