Review of The Strange by Nathan Ballingrud

There is something to the idea that, once you know how something works it loses its magic. I envy cavemen who looked upon rainbows as mystical signs of the gods rather than just light refracting through the prism of moisture. In this regard, we know now that one of the markings of Literature is its ability to transcend, to be relevant regardless of era or cultural zeitgeist. Beyond space western, that is how I know that Nathan Ballingrud's The Strange (2023) is Literature. In an exception to the rule, the science of rainbows does not diminish the quality of the novel in any way, however.

The Strange is the story of Annabelle Crisp. The young daughter of a saloon owner, she serves the food and drink needs of the Martian town of New Galveston. Living with just her father, the pair, along with everyone else on Mars, are living through The Silence. Transportation to and from was once commonplace, but nothing has been heard from Earth in years, including Annabelle's mother. But Annabelle does have digital recordings of her, something she keeps in a treasured cylinder. When a miner from nearby Digtown refuses to pay for his meal one evening, a fight breaks out at the saloon, a fight in which the cylinder is stolen. The last thing she has from her mother on Mars, Annabelle determines to go to Digstown to get it back. And the fight is on.

The backbone of The Strange is Annabelle's coming-of-age. The harshness of frontier life excels at this type of story, meaning Ballingrud chose fertile soil. But interwoven subtly throughout Annabell's maturation are a number of themes with broader (transcendent) application that give the book real substance.

The first is humanity's response to limited resources. The Mars of The Strange is dependent on Earth for several things, things which they now need to do without or hope don't break. As a result, many people constantly live with their next meal uncertain, which induces a variety of responses—some obvious, some less so. The second is the feeling of abandonment from The Silence, and the resulting life choices people take, life choices that go in many different directions, from religion to despair, hope to the practicalities of life. And third is the way in which technology is made to have meaning. There is a lot of science fiction for which technology is just eye candy; fun but not explored. In The Strange, Ballingrud imbues technology to have meaning for the characters (and readers). There are flying saucers, robots, and other so-called classic tropes of sf. But in The Strange some critical decisions are dependent on them, up to and including the climactic sequence rotating around the themes outlined above.

But Annabelle remains one of the major successes of The Strange. In her Ballingrud strikes a wonderful balance of a person you equally dislike yet hope succeeds. The reader empathizes with her quest and deep longings all the while chastising her approach to social interaction and stubbornness. Where a lot of genre novels these days foreground “strong female characters”, Ballingrud says no to that. Here are the thoughts and actions of a troubled young woman dealing with a difficult situation through the only means she knows, right and/or wrong. Rather than pandering to social justice, Annabelle feels 3D, she feels real, like the girl who lives next door, love her and hate her.

Some reviewers have commented on the similarities between The Strange and Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles. I would tap—not slam, tap—the brakes on that comparison. Indeed, both books are set on Mars and present ordinary people trying to live ordinary lives in the wake of catastrophe. But there are a couple key differences separating the two. Firstly, The Martian Chronicles is presented through the lens of 1950's Americana. A collection, its themes are linked to the individual stories. And The Martian Chronicles features aliens—Martians and humans interacting and coexisting and bringing with that its own set of themes. Contrast this with The Strange which is 100% western in tone and feel. Without being told, the reader envisions saloons and tumbleweeds, cowboy hats and dust storms. Likewise, there is a grit and realism to The Strange that contrasts the Americana of Bradbury's Mars. And lastly, the themes of The Strange are interwoven throughout the story of one main character sans aliens.

And so while I understand why people want to put The Strange aside The Martian Chronicles, I'd also like to put it alongside Ian McDonald's Desolation Road. While Ballingrud's effective, staid style is nothing like McDonald's dynamic diction and pace, the undercurrent of imagination, the tech-Western feel, and the the braid of themes is similar. It's worth mentioning that Chris Beckett's Dark Eden, with its human settlers stranded on an alien planet grappling with the idea of returning home or staying, likewise bears resemblance.

Bones to pick, the title. The essence of the story is viscerally human. The people in the story act in character. Thus, where Camus' The Stranger examines one man's absurdly out-of-character action, The Strange sees a young woman and the people around her doing what one expects atavism to do in a resource-scarce environment pressured by a hopelessness to escape. Where murder on a whim is part of the human condition, it's significantly less predictable than the extreme actions people take fighting for survival and the beliefs they take up when all seems lost. For this I'm unsure of Ballingrud's choice in title, but I'm open to ideas. For me The Silence may have been a better title given how it seems to play a stronger role in the story. But it's not my story, is it?

As of the posting of this review it's June 2023, and of the eight books I've read published this year The Strange is the best. Ballingrud has really hit upon something. With just a handful of characters and a minimal setting, he manages to embed poignant themes in an engaging narrative—not an easy combo. A microcosm of humanity spelled out in speculative/imaginative fashion, the reader reads for the story, all the while the book's ideas churn unflinchingly below the mind's surface. Highly recommended.