One of the best reading experiences – and one that is increasingly rare in our oversaturated media age – is where you go into a book cold and it takes you so completely by surprise that, for a couple of days, it consumes you totally. Prior to this I had no idea who Sylvain Neuvel was.
‘A History of What Comes Next’ was one of those books I requested in a fit of pique from NetGalley, annoyed at being constantly ignored by publishers. You know what happens next, of course. Suddenly you get a spate of ‘accepted’ requests from NetGalley that pushes down your reader rating and leaves you with a lurking pile of arcs to get to that you barely remember enquiring after in the first place, let alone what they are about.
A caveat is that I have yet to read ‘The Lady Astronaut’ sequence by Mary Robinette Kowal, which I am now curious enough about to at least pick up the first book just to see how it stacks up against Sylvain Neuvel. Then I also have ‘V2’ by Robert Harris on my list, who is no stranger to that SF sub-genre of ‘alternative history’ with his superlative ‘Fatherland’.
What really intrigued me about ‘A History of What Comes Next’ is that the actual Kindle text ends at 88%, leaving a goodly chunk of ‘Further Reading’. The first line of this section is: ‘(Not as boring as it sounds, I swear)’. And it really isn’t. Not to mention one of the best parts of the book for me, particularly as it is intricately connected with the narrative itself. Neuvel explains: I learned a ton writing this book. I knew little of the space race when I began, nothing of rocket science. Writing in the past was the biggest challenge. Basically, nothing exists and women can’t do anything.
Neuvel proceeds to give his highly readable (and often very funny and irreverent) take on many of the major elements in the book. These range from the OSS (the Office of Strategic Services, which Indiana Jones worked for, according to ‘The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’), the famous Operation Paperclip, and actual personages such as Wernher von Braun, Sergei Korolev and the particularly odious Lavrentiy Beria, who cosied up with Stalin in 1926. We also learn about Hsue-Shen Tsien, the genius behind the Jet Propulsion Laboratory who was sent to debrief von Braun and his team after they had surrendered to the Americans. And who was eventually labelled a Communist under the Red Scare and spent five years under house arrest. Go, America!
Neuvel notes further: There’s been so much written on the [American space program], lots of movies seen, that I chose to focus on smaller, lesser-known events. It’s also why the book ends in 1961, before Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo. This means that Act IV, for example, focuses on Mia going to Kasputin Yar, established in 1946 to test captured German V2s, and often referred to by conspiracy theorists as the ‘Russian Roswell’. There’s a lovely section on Russian space dogs, as part of the story is Mia trying to rescue Dezik and Tsygan. (We learn that between 1951 and 1960 at least 20 dogs made suborbital flights).
I could go on and on … This kind of factual background is manna for SF fans, and I must say it is a section that endeared me most to Neuvel. He understands intimately what makes the average SF nerd’s brain tick. And the brilliance of this section is the level of detail it adds to the main narrative, without being superfluous at all. If you’re thinking that a book which needs an explanatory appendix is fundamentally flawed, you’re missing the point entirely. Just read the damn thing, and you’ll be entranced as I was.
As for the plot? Neuvel himself describes his book as “my weird slightly-homicidal-alien-clone-space-race-story”, which is as good a summary as any. For me, the smartest kind of genre fiction is where the speculative component or the world-building is so deftly intertwined with the actual narrative that you cannot even see the seams. Clearly, a huge amount of research went into this. It is equally clear that, despite the fantastic elements of the Tracker and the Kibsu, a lot of this is depressingly true.
There is a popular, romanticised idea of the birth of the US Space Race effectively turning swords into ploughshares by recruiting the best of Nazi Germany’s scientists. The truth, as always, is much darker (if not greyer), as this included a lot of very morally dubious people, despite their supposed scientific credentials. And a lot of the less savoury Nazi R&D was simply taken over, and refined, by the Americans.
A note on the text: Neuvel takes the interesting step of blocking out all of the spoken dialogue as if it were speech in a play. At first this takes some getting used to, as it seems a bit jumpy and jarring, but the cumulative effect is that it makes for a much faster and more immersive read, which I also have to add contains a surprisingly vigorous quantity of violence, bloodshed and assorted mayhem.
If you think the idea of the Kibsu sounds familiar, like me you are probably reminded of the ‘Destiny’s Children’ series by Stephen Baxter. This is simply one of the best SF thrillers I have read in a long time. Yes, the plot elements have been recycled countless times before, and history is history. But it is what Neuvel does with all of this, and the story he tells of what happens next, that makes this such an extraordinary book.