Review of Polostan by Neal Stephenson

2021's Termination Shock was a bit of a return for Neal Stephenson—a bit, just a bit. Where his prior two novels Seveneves and Readme abandoned the idea of minimalist prose and efficient storytelling, Termination Shock held echoes of Stephenson's earlier books, faster paced affairs like Zodiac, The Cobweb, and even a little Snow Crash. But Stephenson's latest offering, Polostan (2024), hearkens back to a different fertile period in his oeuvre: the Baroque Cycle and Cryptonomicon.

Where the Baroque Cycle looked into the dawn of the enlightenment, Newtonian physics, early computing, and the birth of the stock market, Polostan digs into primitive nuclear physics, early communism, and global 1930s industrialization. Stephenson happily wallows in this historical period through the bright eyes of a young woman caught between East and West named Dawn/Avrora (depending which hemisphere she is in). Though born Avrora in the wild steppe of Russia in the early 20th century, as a child she ends up as Dawn in the wild west of the US after her mother runs away from Stalin's brand of utopia to start a new life. A rough life, Dawn has many an adventure in Montana, in the labor strikes of Washington D.C., in the Chicago World's Fair, and in the backwoods of the midwest after getting caught by a gang of rednecks who care more for her paycheck than her wellbeing. But it's physics, particularly nuclear physics, which Dawn's life seems to return to time and again. Capitalists pulling her one way and communists the other, Dawn must eventually decide how to best play one side against the other.

Polostan weaves three periods in Dawn's life together. This takes a moment for the reader to adapt to, but once in the groove they easily shift forward and backward in her life. From a soviet steel factory in the dead of winter to Ukrainian famine, post-Depression San Francisco to Chicago's gangster streets, Stephenson winds and wafts various times and settings to form the narrative. They slowly, almost imperceptibly, culminate in a small but splashy moment that suits the book while paving the way for the next—a trilogy planned.

And yes, the 21st century being what it is, for better and worse, let's drag out the horse and pony show: Dawn is a strong female character. Not STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER, or even Strong Female Character. Just strong female character. She's normal. She's educated, multi-lingual, intelligent, and possesses specific talents, but still ends up faced with difficult life decisions. She's physically strong: the 'polo' in Polostan refers to the sport, something she plays with gusto, and she has a tommy gun tucked away in a suitcase. But somehow Dawn still ends up held against her will on a couple of occasions. And to top it all off, she's a feminist—the early 20th century variety. You remember those realists?

If anything, Polostan shows how Stephenson has matured as a writer. Upon completion, the reader realized they just read a slow-burning techno-thriller. But at no time does the book beat the reader over the head with that fact. The settings Stephenson conjures feel lived. The dialogue is distinguished. And the three aforementioned storylines are effortlessly interwoven. But the subtle cherry on the cake is pacing. The story moves with hidden momentum despite not much appearing to happen. Stephenson doesn't need an explosive scene; he can now get something from little. Appropriate for a story about nuclear physics? We'll see.

In the end, Polostan is a fun, promising beginning to a new series. The novel's depth is not to be found in humanism, rather the period which Stephenson brings to life. Dawn's quasi-western, semi-Dieselpunk, part gangster, bit spy story is the engine driving this setting. It drives in entertaining fashion. Readers entertained by Cryptonomicon or the Baroque Cycle will find this a welcome 'return to that form' for Stephenson. I highly doubt that was his intention, it just turned out that way.