Strange Title, Big Book, Long Reach

Noumenon - Marina J. Lostetter

You’d think I’d know by now, wouldn’t you. Yep, the more superlatives heaped on a debut novel, the less I’m going to like it. Who knows: it might have something to do with the way literature has changed since my debut novel (the first one I read, anyway). Whatever. The reviews for Marina J. Lostetter and her (alleged) first novel, Noumenon, were glowing. They compared it to Arthur C. Clarke’s Rendezvous with Rama (a comparison obviously made by someone who hadn’t read that novel) and Neal Stephenson’s Seveneves. They also compared it to Hugh Howey’s Wool, but I haven’t read it – my one exposure to Howey was unsatisfactory. But we’re not here to talk about Howey (or Stephenson), we’re here to talk about Noumenon…

First, a word about the title: the -menon root is the same as we see in “phenomenon.” “Nou-“; however, makes it the opposite: a phenomenon is something that can be sensed; a noumenon exists independent of the senses. Pretty philosophical, that… but about the book.

The “planet-wide consortium” will fund a dozen deep space projects, and astronomy ABD Reggie Straifer wants to send one of them to LQ Pyxidix, a weird-ass star that seems to be partially “encrusted.” Gee, what could “Licpyx” be? Maybe a Dyson sphere? Let’s go look: it’ll only take twelve hundred years or so…

And so they go: but instead of the usual generation ship, the PtB decide to send clones of the best Earth has to offer right now. Every position on board becomes hereditary: as you approach retirement, you train yourself as an apprentice while you’re also growing up to be old enough to… aww, hell, you get the picture.

Bobby Burns was right, though: “The best-laid plans,” etc. Let’s be real: it’s pretty much impossible to model what will happen when the same minds are in the same bodies bumping up against the same other minds in the same bodies for at least a dozen generations¹. Oops: like the movie title said, “There will be blood.” Suffice it to say, they got there. They didn’t meet any alien races, but they found some interesting stuff, most of which they didn’t understand. Then they came back.

Earth had changed while they were gone. Duh.

In case you didn’t know, I like Neal Stephenson, which is why the reference to Seveneves caught my eye. Except, however, for the thousands-of-years timespan of the novels, they bear one another little resemblance – well, and they’re both 700-plus pages long. In the case of Stephenson’s novel, that was a minor detraction. In the case of Noumenon, however, it’s a major downfall.

Like most novels written in the age of television, the novel’s structure is episodic; almost as if it’s supposed to fit into individual episodes (or, God forbid, seasons) of a Netflix streaming series. In this case, the episodes feature the same characters, except different… versions? decantings? hatchings? of them. There is, of course, the predictable conflict: civil war, slavery, and the like. Some sturm und drang is required, after all.

What Noumenon is, for the most part, however, is long; not to mention a wee bit boring. The characters get stale rather quickly and the plot is pretty much humdrum. What may be worst is that, after 708 pages or so, the “secret” of Licpyx remains a secret. It's at this moment that you learn the horrible truth: Lostetter and Noumenon aren’t finished. No, she’s already published a second novel (Noumenon Infinity) and I’ll just bet a third is in progress. Maybe a fourth, and a fifth…

When it comes to scifi, I’m a bit of a purist: one reason I respected Seveneves  and Saturn’s Run (the latter was co-authored by "______ Prey" guy John Sandford) was that both of them were firmly based in science; not in the so-called “wantum mechanics” that features so strongly in just about any movie or TV show from the "Star Trek" and "Star Wars" universes. Not so Lostetter’s work: from superconducting solid hydrogen to a “sub-dimensional drive” to “simulated gravity via harnessing and aligning gravitons,” the scientific basis is essentially gobbledygook. What, though, do you expect from a writer who speaks of interstellar distances as “so many millions of miles”? Here’s a hint, Marina, just one light year is 5.9 trillion miles: that’s millions of millions of miles! Sorry, I don’t think I''ll be reading Noumenon Infinity. Your mileage, however, may vary.

¹ Because the ship drive moves it [actually them] through “sub-dimensions” (whatever those are), time moves at approximately ¹⁄₉ th its rate on Earth.

copyright © 2017-2020 scmrak