Forty Signs of Rain identifying the themes and mode for Kim Stanley Robinson’s Science in the Capital series, Fifty Degrees Below (2006), as is
expected in the middle novel of a trilogy, further unpacks the ideas under
discussion while escalating story to new heights of excitement. Salting what was a rather tasteless opening,
the second novel improves upon the first while launching the story into the
third and conclusory volume, Sixty Days
and Counting.
Working with the same cast of characters, Fifty Degrees Below opens with Frank Vanderwal having to leave the
apartent where he was staying and search for a new home. The flood now receded, its effects
remain. Housing prices and rent through
the roof given the lack of supply and huge demand, Frank opts for creative
domesticity. Dividing time between his
van, a homemade treehouse in a local park, and the showers at work, he soon
settles into a routine that allows him to focus on what Diane, his boss at the
NSF, has laid for him to do: think of plausible ideas that can be implemented
to combat climate change. With the
jetstream sweeping ever southward, drawing the cold with it, Frank is under
pressure. Charlie Quibler, still advisor
to Senator Phil Chase, is faced with a new task: a presidential campaign. Caring for little Joe during the day while
Anna works, Charlie has to back a man who, does not implement every
environmental mitigation plan, but is at least a sight better than the man
currently in office. Let the campaigning
begin.
Where pacing may have been an issue for readers uninterested in the
subjects under discussion in Forty Signs of Rain, Robinson shifts the balance in Fifty
Degrees Below. Frank’s story mainly
in the spotlight, his time in the park tracking animals that escaped from the
Washington DC Zoo during the flood, playing ultimate frisbee with the
neo-hippies that live on the margins of civilization, relating to the homeless
who also call the park home, trying to find the mysterious woman he met in the
elevator, and getting back to the basics of life in his treehouse are all
related in a fashoin that makes the pages turn—especially after learning he and
several others at the NSF are targets for observation by the department of
Homeland Security. Robinson playing out Frank’s
line nicely, the story escalates over the last fifty pages to a subtle, but
exciting crescendo.
Given Frank is the main focus, the reader is privy to his thoughts,
habits, and behavior. Presented in altruistic
fashion (a la an Arthur C. Clarke hero), Frank’s scientific knowledge and
inquiries range the spectrum from climatology to paleontology, and never is his
thirst quenched. When cold weather sets
in, he’s found helping all he can, going to homeless shelters, building plastic
lean-tos for his down-on-their-luck friends in the park, and helping to
re-capture lost zoo animals—all the while helping to come up with a solution
that will re-balance the catastrophic changes that have come about
environmentally. A sci-fi Mary Sue
figure for it, it may be possible the reader will be turned off by his
altruistic personality. But to do so would
be to miss Robinson’s point.
The Khambali Tibetan storyline given more detail in Fifty Degrees Below, Frank’s presentation as Mister Perfect is not
intended to be realistic. A representation,
Frank is intended to be inspirational, to provide a goal for others to strive
for. He’s concerned about his health so
he stays fit. He is concerned about the
state of the environment, so he does his part to combat negative impact. He is concerned about society, so he does
what he can pitch in. And lastly, life
is interesting to him, so he digs into the facts available. And so while Robinson obviously had a lot of
fun imagining Frank’s day-to-day, it’s easy to see he serves as an example of a
socially responsible world citizen. As
sugar sweet as he may be, the world would be a better place were more people to
engage with life and society in the same fashion.
But Frank’s character is only bread.
The meat and cheese (sorry for the poor metaphor) are the politics which
have allowed the environmental situation to go unchecked. A cynical tone to the chapter interludes,
Robinson makes the reader aware his stance on the state of American politicians
as of 2006 is not soft. He writes “They want a silver bullet. Some kind of
technical fix that will make all the problems go away without any suffering on
Wall Street.” (107) and “…there is a
ten-trillion-a-year economy that also wants more consumption. It’s like we’re working within the body of a
cancerous tumor. It’s hopeless,
really. We will simply charge over the
cliff like lemmings.” (113). At the
same time, Robinson does not blame a lack of knowledge for the environmental
issues. “Clearly ignorance of the situation has not been the problem. The problem is acting on what we know. Maybe people will be ready for that now. Better late than never.” (69). This ideology, coupled with Frank’s
character, serve up the socio-enviro-political agenda for the book, and the
series.
In the end, Fifty Degrees Below
continues to take the Science in the
Capital series in two distinct directions: one highly politicized and the other
mainstream plotting. Robinson’s
neo-socialist views on politics, economy, spiritual philosophy, environmental
policy, and society pouring out in the narrative, readers with conservative
political ideologies will balk at most of what he has to say. A tangible sense
of altruism present in Frank, the main character’s storyline, may further
annoy. That Robinson, however, is
attempting to offer real world solutions to some of the real world problems we
are currently facing overshadows the plastic characterization. Rather than just complaining or making snarky
comments from the sidelines, he wades in hip-deep with thought out ideas rooted
in science and society. The window
dressing to discussion on arguably the most important issues facing humanity in
the world today, well, that would be the pulp plotting.
And what’s next in Sixty Days and
Counting? “First the great flood,
now the great freeze, with widespread fires as well—what’s next? ‘There’s an
excellent chance of drought next summer.’” (363)
Just read Green Earth, which edits this trilogy down into a single big novel. I'd read the trilogy over a decade ago, and my opinion then echoed yours. But Green Earth, in contrast, reads to me like a masterpiece; it felt like a juicy Great American Novel. I'd now rank it up there with Aurora as his best. Worth checking out for fans of Stan let down by the original Science in the Capital trilogy.
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