I am reviewing a copy provided by the publisher.
Bian has never been beyond the fields of her village. The River People have had little need to travel north to visit the Dome Dwellers. They do not want for food or clothing, only the strange technology of their ancestors brings them upriver to trade with the people they became separated from so long ago. Fuel cells can’t replenish themselves, after all. Neither can the colonists, the Dome Dwellers—the survivors who maintain their righteous link to the first colonists of Home and refuse to leave the long-standing habitats and claim the world as their own.
They have not done well sustaining the animals and crops left for them. Even the children run wild and unbridled around the compound, driven by an unnamed fear of the River People and of the wide unknown beyond the fabricated structures surrounding them. But a strange light on the horizon is about the change how these two groups view each other, how they feel about their failures and accomplishments, and how they choose to go forward with their lives. Like a legend or fairy tale, everyone is familiar with the story of Ship, the large flying machine that brought the first settlers to Home, and its promise to return one day and show its children they have not been forgotten. Ship, as Bian as surmised, has come back.
Seed Seeker is the final installment in a trilogy Pamela Sargent began with Earthseed in 1983. Before I go further, and since it was a concern of my own, this is a book that can be read alone, without the previous two (Earthseed and Farseed). It does not have to be read in chronological order. I was assured of this because like anyone stepping blind into a new series, knowing where to start is often a difficult decision. After finishing the book, I think I agree, with one hesitation. There were some moments that beg for further exploration, but have little bearing on knowledge of the previous two books—as far as I can tell, at least. Simply put: the book was too short and certain characters just did not get enough attention.
But before I go into that, there were any number of things to enjoy about this book. The writing, for one, was incredibly engaging. Not having read Sargent before, I did not have any expectations and this, I think, was good. It means I was that much more impressed with how quietly driven this book is. The POV switches between Bian and Safrah so both sides are equally represented. I especially love how the journey takes them out of their comfort zones, much like Frodo Baggins or Luke Skywalker finally stepping beyond home for the first time in a grand adventure.
There may be an abundance of technology on Home—whether it functions correctly, if at all, is a different story—but the technology by itself isn’t important. How the River People and Dome Dwellers react to it (and in return, to each other) is the undercurrent moving this novel to its ultimate conclusion. This is a book about fear. About fear and change and how those two go hand in hand, but also why one can be the catalyst for the other.
Like other “first contact” stories, Seed Seeker organized the friend versus foe mentality that often motivates strangers to realize the only way out of any situation is Death To The Invaders. We don’t ever want to be friendly; we can’t ever be sure the Other Side means well, nor can we convince them we do, and so we take the most brutal route (the easiest to convey): violence. In this case, the division between the River People (pastoral and agrarian) and the Dome Dwellers (tech-dependent) happened long ago, in another book perhaps. Is it really important to know why they are separated? No, but the names they give each other speak for themselves. Half of the original colony wanted to explore and expand the unknown of their new home. The other half felt compelled to listen to their bigoted leaders and stay where they could control everything, where their machines could regulate food, temperature, and maintain a digital library of the past. These were the folks who just couldn’t let things go.
The marvelous thing about Ship is how it eventually changes this dynamic of what began as a slowly brewing war of resentment and suspicion. The River People think the Dome Dwellers, with their radio, have made contact with Ship but refuse to share that information; the Dome Dwellers think Ship has abandoned them for their failures and chosen to speak only to the River People. Neither of these two sides ever just communicate with each other.
The moment Ship as a Possibility changes into Ship as a Reality, people can and do act, but in surprisingly heroic ways. In addition to how fluidly Sargent executes this chain of events, she also considers issues of progression and tradition, turning expectations completely around to examine which half of the colony lies on either side of that divide.Thematically, I was very impressed with Seed Seeker.
There are, of course, a few nasty characters, several sweet ones, and a variety of others to stir things up . Suspicion, love, jealousy, bitterness—these young adults are human to the core and experience the emotions to prove it. While I could see where Sargent may excel at creating the perfect environment for relatable characters to grow vividly around and against each other, I found myself unable to really develop a strong connection to any one of them. Their individuals troubles felt too distant, especially Arnagh (who, let’s face it: was not given the best of names) and Lusa (the victim of unrequited love). We find them both in mourning. Their rejections have already happened. What readers get are the after effects which, while sad, are difficult to fully appreciate. I can’t fathom what Lusa finds so attractive about Enli, other than him being a musician; he’s distant and grumpy, not to mention flighty. Lusa could do much better. I wish my heart went out to them, and to a certain extent it does. But only on the surface, as a sympathetic ear rather than out of any real investment in their heartbreak.
This is where I feel a divergence between Seed Seeker as a stand alone versus as the third in a trilogy. Even though it appears none of these characters were featured in Farseed (the second of the trilogy), and that a significant amount of time has passed in world between the two, something still felt off. Something still felt missing. The conflict between Morwen and Terris felt especially hollow. These children deal with the repercussions of something unseen and harbor deep resentments, but are already seething and villainous. Maybe Safrah didn’t raise them well. Maybe they had other poisonous influences. Maybe the story will feel more well-rounded after reading the first two, maybe it won’t. I do intend to find out.