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3.76 AVERAGE
3.76 AVERAGE
challenging
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
fast-paced
adventurous
challenging
dark
hopeful
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Shout out Joanna kilmartin and Steve cox for having to translate “symmatriads” and “mimoids” from the original French
Let's sum up what we know for sure. A psychologist, Kris Kelvin, lands on a research station on Solaris. The planet's surface is made up almost entirely of an endless ocean. Based on decades of research, most solarists believe that the ocean (or the planet as a whole) has some sort of a mind. Although many attempts have been made over many years, humankind wasn't able to establish any sort of communication with the organism. However, after Kelvin's arrival he is soon haunted by a ghost of his past, his wife Harey who had committed suicide after an argument with Kelvin.
Other than this, it's very difficult to make sense of the story. From the first moment when Kelvin arrives on the station and finds his coworkers have gone mad and strange things begin to happen, it's almost as if he found himself in a nightmare from which he doesn't wake up. The very heavy prose adds further layers that make it even more difficult to penetrate into what is going on.
On first thought, you would expect Kelvin would wholeheartedly embrace the chance to be reunited with his wife. The torture results from the fact that whatever is visiting him, it cannot be her. What makes this even more difficult to accept, she herself doesn't seem to know what she is. The scientists believe that their visitors are modeled on memories and dreams. Whatever their true nature, what they do know for sure is that the visitors will always return to them, no matter how radical their attempts to get rid of them. For the time of their stay, however, they learn and become increasingly their own.
It was also sad to read about the emotions of the visitors, and this is another reason why it's so difficult for the scientists to have them around. They begin to understand that something is not right. Harey understands that she is not who she thinks she is, but she struggles to understand what she is instead (at no point do they talk about their location on Solaris). Naturally, she is fears that Kelvin is afraid of her, that he may even be disgusted by her. When it becomes too much for her, she even tries to kill herself, again.
As the story progresses, the protagonist is more and more tortured, presumably mostly because she is an unbearable reminder of his role in her death (or at least what he thinks is his role). As should be clear by now, I've found the book to be incredibly bleak, not unlike reading a horror story. The images of sterile corridors and the burning suns only add to this (in fact, in my mind the suns were as blinding as Danny Boyle's Sunshine). Kelvin's colleague and mentor even took his own life shortly before his arrival. Don't expect any comfort of the other personnel, either. All dialogs are tense, joyless, and deeply hopeless.
Similar to works like Annihilation or Roadside Picnic, the encompassing unintelligibility was for me the story's most intriguing feature. In three or four chapters, Kelvin grapples with various works of Solaristics. He learns about the first ocean victim and how the pilot of the excursion later came across a huge baby walking through the fog (seriously disturbing idea). It is explained that recurring figures of extremely huge size appear out of the ocean and the reader learns about the taxonomic efforts that were made to give structure to what the scientists encountered. However, this has only been the first phase of the new scientific discipline; later, there had been disagreement about all the hypotheses that were put forward.
Humankind asked itself, does the ocean have a psyche or is it completely without any recognition of an external world? Is it alive? Can it think? Is it intelligent? Is it maybe the degenerate remainder of a once complex structure? Does it ignore us, or are we maybe even to small for it to even recognize us? Can it be useful to us? The uncertainty about all these underlying questions make the main events even more puzzling. Why does it send these visitors, if "send" isn't already inappropriately anthropocentric? Is it really meant to haunt them? Maybe it wants to please us? Maybe we just don't recognize that it's the form of contact humankind so strongly desires?
As the characters are disoriented and stuck, unable to move on, so the story itself hardly goes anywhere. It's really all about the emotional immersion. It's exhausting and it will make you feel numb. Personally, I absolutely loved how the novel is able to tear you apart, though I'm sure it won't be for everyone. If you are into science-fiction that forces you out of your comfort zone, Solaris will be an absolute trip.
Rating: 4/5
Other than this, it's very difficult to make sense of the story. From the first moment when Kelvin arrives on the station and finds his coworkers have gone mad and strange things begin to happen, it's almost as if he found himself in a nightmare from which he doesn't wake up. The very heavy prose adds further layers that make it even more difficult to penetrate into what is going on.
On first thought, you would expect Kelvin would wholeheartedly embrace the chance to be reunited with his wife. The torture results from the fact that whatever is visiting him, it cannot be her. What makes this even more difficult to accept, she herself doesn't seem to know what she is. The scientists believe that their visitors are modeled on memories and dreams. Whatever their true nature, what they do know for sure is that the visitors will always return to them, no matter how radical their attempts to get rid of them. For the time of their stay, however, they learn and become increasingly their own.
It was also sad to read about the emotions of the visitors, and this is another reason why it's so difficult for the scientists to have them around. They begin to understand that something is not right. Harey understands that she is not who she thinks she is, but she struggles to understand what she is instead (at no point do they talk about their location on Solaris). Naturally, she is fears that Kelvin is afraid of her, that he may even be disgusted by her. When it becomes too much for her, she even tries to kill herself, again.
As the story progresses, the protagonist is more and more tortured, presumably mostly because she is an unbearable reminder of his role in her death (or at least what he thinks is his role). As should be clear by now, I've found the book to be incredibly bleak, not unlike reading a horror story. The images of sterile corridors and the burning suns only add to this (in fact, in my mind the suns were as blinding as Danny Boyle's Sunshine). Kelvin's colleague and mentor even took his own life shortly before his arrival. Don't expect any comfort of the other personnel, either. All dialogs are tense, joyless, and deeply hopeless.
Similar to works like Annihilation or Roadside Picnic, the encompassing unintelligibility was for me the story's most intriguing feature. In three or four chapters, Kelvin grapples with various works of Solaristics. He learns about the first ocean victim and how the pilot of the excursion later came across a huge baby walking through the fog (seriously disturbing idea). It is explained that recurring figures of extremely huge size appear out of the ocean and the reader learns about the taxonomic efforts that were made to give structure to what the scientists encountered. However, this has only been the first phase of the new scientific discipline; later, there had been disagreement about all the hypotheses that were put forward.
Humankind asked itself, does the ocean have a psyche or is it completely without any recognition of an external world? Is it alive? Can it think? Is it intelligent? Is it maybe the degenerate remainder of a once complex structure? Does it ignore us, or are we maybe even to small for it to even recognize us? Can it be useful to us? The uncertainty about all these underlying questions make the main events even more puzzling. Why does it send these visitors, if "send" isn't already inappropriately anthropocentric? Is it really meant to haunt them? Maybe it wants to please us? Maybe we just don't recognize that it's the form of contact humankind so strongly desires?
As the characters are disoriented and stuck, unable to move on, so the story itself hardly goes anywhere. It's really all about the emotional immersion. It's exhausting and it will make you feel numb. Personally, I absolutely loved how the novel is able to tear you apart, though I'm sure it won't be for everyone. If you are into science-fiction that forces you out of your comfort zone, Solaris will be an absolute trip.
Rating: 4/5
"No necesitamos otros mundos. Necesitamos espejos. No sabemos qué hacer con otros mundos."
challenging
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
challenging
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
The theories of new science seemed like a filter, or maybe more like a pleasant obstacle, to get to a point where the characters are slowly attaching themselves to your mind, including the alien lifeform. Especially because of the birth and growth of Rheya.