In Stone Spring, Stephen Baxter begins with a simple premise: suppose the people of Doggerland had built a wall to keep out the rising sea level. In Bronze Summer he supposes a few other things: suppose Europe and the Middle East had gotten potatoes a few centuries ahead of schedule. Suppose the secret of making hard iron weapons had been developed ahead of schedule. Suppose the peoples of the West had had regular contact with the peoples of the Americas. Suppose concrete had been developed ahead of schedule. In Iron Winter the supposing continues. Suppose the Hittites had rebuilt Troy and moved their capital city there. Suppose Jesus had not been crucified, but lived a long life and died a peaceful death. Suppose the steam engine and the railroad had been developed ahead of schedule.
With each supposition, the story gets farther and farther from what actually happened, so that by the third book it is less alternative history, and more straight-up fantasy. The names of some of the places and some of the players are the same (the Scand, the Rus, the Franks, the Germans), but their world becomes more and more unrecognizable, almost completely invented.
And in a way this series of books has always been straight-up fantasy. It is Stephen Baxter’s fantasy of a near-perfect society, which is what Northland is. Northland is stable. Its cultural institutions have helped it endure for thousands of years, without the cult of personality or thirst for power that has caused the rise and fall of empires elsewhere. Its leaders, mostly female, are selected for their ability. Northland is prosperous, engaging in trade with other nations the world over. Northland is peaceable. They aren’t afraid to fight if they must, to defend themselves, but they prefer diplomacy, strengthening bonds with other nations through the annual Giving ceremonies.
Northland has relative freedom and equality. Some people are richer than others, but in Northland you don’t have a few living in obscene luxury while the masses are enslaved. Northland doesn’t do slaves. In Northland even the common people are literate and secure. Northland has kept their population low, so it doesn’t exceed the carrying capacity of the land. Northland has achieved a complex society while maintaining a hunter-gatherer diet.
And Northland has better living through engineering. In its fabled wall it has elevators, central heating, running water, and the above-mentioned rail travel. They have philosophy, literature, art, religious scriptures (interpreted figuratively), and hard science. Northland values problem solving for the good of the community.
What’s not to love? Northland’s neighbor nations may be jealous, labeling Northlanders arrogant, or manipulative, but if you had to be transported back into the world of the book, wouldn’t you rather be a Northlander than live in any other kingdom? If I had been designing my own ideal society, I probably would have done some things differently, but just the fact that this is a near-utopia tugs at my heart in the way Star Trek tugged at my heart when I used to watch Star Trek. Somehow the United Federation of Planets had solved poverty, eliminated racial prejudice, and made peace even with the Klingons. Today, when almost every novel of the future is dystopian, hope is a sweet tonic. Bring it on.
But the story. An ice age is coming, and it’s coming fast. Around the globe, harvests are failing. Even the Northland fishing catch is declining, as fish head for warmer waters. The Northlanders hole up inside their wall, but the ice and snow cause their famous engineering works to fail.
Elsewhere, the Hatti, now inhabiting a rebuilt old Troy, decide to move their entire population south into Carthage. Carthage has something to say about this. Rina, one of the Annids of Northland, has brought her two teenage children to Carthage, thinking they will live there in safety. She discovers they must grovel and become servants to survive, and they find themselves on the front lines of a war.
Meanwhile, Rina’s uncle Pyxeas has traveled to China (called Daidu in the book) to learn from a fellow scientist the secrets of carbon dioxide (called fixed air in the book). In Pyxeas, Baxter has created one of the most interesting characters in the series. He has a brilliant mind, but no social skills, so he can be a source of occasional comic relief. His flights of enthusiasm are so far removed from the concerns of ordinary people, that they risk dismissing him as a foolish old man. They should not. And like a comic book superhero, Pyxeas has a sidekick in Avatak, the devoted boy from Coldland.
In previous books of the series, there was violence that made me question if I wanted to continue reading. There is some of that here, particularly when the Hatti begin their great migration by the wholesale slaughter of anyone not strong enough to walk to Carthage. But now that I have persevered to the end, I find I hate to close the door on the world of Northland.
It will not be lost on anyone that these books deal with climate change, and that we are also facing climate change in real life. The Northlanders tried to be innovative and practical in the face of climate change. It is by no means clear that we will do the same. But if there is a lesson of the books it is that human choices matter in how human societies thrive or don’t. In Stone Spring, Ana made the choice to build a wall. If she had made a different choice, the entire story would have been different. We aren’t victims of a blind, steamrolling Fate. Or we don’t have to be. It’s time to go out and problem-solve, like Northlanders.