Solaris: The Definitive Edition

NOTE: THIS REVIEW REVEALS SOME DETAILS OF THE PLOT, IN ITS DESCRIPTIONSolaris is a perplexing, impossible world - endeavouring, somehow, to exist and endure in the presence of binary stars (one blue star, one red), with a toxic and corrosive atmosphere constantly enveloping its ink black ocean of intrigue. Hovering above the waves, Solaris Station: an armoured and secluded human outpost, a crumbling and half-forgotten 'castle in the air'...Of the Station's three anticipated occupants, one (Dr Gibarian) has apparently taken his own life in mysterious circumstances, leaving only the extravagantly named doctors Sartorius and Snaut to welcome aboard the latest member of their crew - a doggedly inquisitive psychologist (Dr Kris Kelvin), who quite clearly harbours some deep-rooted troubles of his own. But they are not alone, this crew: Sartorius and Snaut have familiars - 'Ghosts' (later referred to, somewhat clinically, as 'G-formations') - and it's not long before Kelvin is similarly granted the gift of an impromptu manifestation all of his own. Her name is Harey - formerly, Kelvin's teenage sweetheart; and in this particular instance, she is quite literally a ghost - since the poor girl tragically committed suicide ten years earlier at the tender age of nineteen years, when Kelvin rather capriciously and heartlessly ended their relationship; and as a result, his feelings of self-reproach (even revulsion), when confronted with Harey's unexpected reappearance, are entirely understandable, I should say! Harey, therefore, cannot realistically exist - but she does; and like the other 'Ghosts' on Solaris Station, she is seemingly the product (in human form) of an avatar of memories drawn from deep inside the mind of her companion. She is also impossibly strong for her size and seems virtually indestructible (quite possibly immortal, too), and alas - is a presence condemned to forever shadow her living former lover, since it soon becomes evident that poor little Harey cannot psychologically or physiologically much withstand even a modest separation from Dr Kelvin. Harey herself understands very little about what she is or what her intended purpose might actually be. But perhaps that strange and magnificent ocean, endlessly rolling distantly beneath their feet (an ocean that may or may not be alive, which may or may not be sentient, and which seems as likely to be malevolent as benign towards its alien (human) scrutineers) may well have played its part in her creation, and may be key...As you may have gathered from this brief summation, 'Solaris' is a curiously original and inventive work of fiction - even by the generally exotic standards of Science Fiction - but one that, at the same time, delivers an unsettling yet otherwise almost indescribable experience to the reader. So - is this necessarily a bad thing...? Yes and no...The book begins well enough, with a premise that effortlessly introduces a palpable sense of tension and unease into the reading experience. In this, I was soon struck by the similarity to a later book in an altogether different literary genre ('The Shining'): a handful of people, isolated and confined in a remote location, challenged and threatened by unexplained presences and forces - you get the picture - though of course, the abject terror that so characterised Stephen King's novel is thankfully absent here! But in the case of 'Solaris', the undeniable menace present at its commencement regrettably subsides far too quickly to be replaced by a pedestrian series of pseudo-scientific deliberations on the true nature of that frustrating and indeterminate planet below. Furthermore, entertaining passages that genuinely move the story forward are frequently interspersed with intensely tedious (and sometimes chapter-long) critical analyses and appreciations of the preceding decades in which the planet Solaris has been fruitlessly examined by humanity: if you dislike this kind of thing yourself, it might encourage you to learn that you can reasonably avoid Chapter 3 ('Solaricists') and Chapter 11 ('Thinkers') without losing too much sense of this novel's slender plot. But ultimately, what this story finally transforms itself into is an annoying, unremarkable, and slightly unbelievable romance that (for all his supposed objective rationality, as a scientist) Dr Kelvin seems entirely powerless to resist - despite an initial determination to launch the earliest facsimile of Harey out into space (an identical replacement arrives soon after), and regardless of yet another failed attempt at suicide on the poor girl's part (you would think her erstwhile lover might finally get the hint!) In essence, Harey's rejuvenation has also returned to their now implausible relationship what, in its former iteration, may well have been its failing and its doom - a problem that Dr Kelvin must again confront but is disinclined to do so: that his clinging 'visitor' might just be too perfect a copy of the original, complete with all the former angst and instabilities...In the novel's latter stages, too, the enormous planetary conundrum at its heart seemingly persuades the author to forego - with worrying alacrity - all previous attempts or pretence at a scientific rigour in exchange for a series of somewhat irresolvable philosophical speculations (whether conducted introspectively, in the first person, or else debated amongst his principal characters) as to what might offer them best proof of Life's loftier universal purpose (its consideration being always constrained, it seems, by humankind's own rather linear perspectives), and whether the taciturn planet close at hand could possibly be a nobler testament to Life (or indeed, perhaps less so) than the human flesh and blood that gazes on in wonder - entranced, enraptured, yet bewildered: this maybe does make the novel easier to read on one level, but it does also lose it some credibility on another. And at its eventual conclusion, I'm afraid I must report that the novel does disappointingly dwindle down towards an unsatisfactory and hardly convincing melancholy impasse between a direction-less Dr Kelvin and the indifferent, indecipherable ocean of Solaris. You shouldn't hope for a happy ending, here; you shouldn't hope for much of an ending at all - happy, or otherwise...!I must also say that - at times - the dialogue and style of prose both come across as being rather awkward and 'lumpy': whether these instances expose a few sporadic shortcomings in the author's manner of writing, or whether they are the consequences of Brian Johnston's translation from the original Polish, I really wouldn't like to say categorically. But you do have to put up with the American idiom ('gotten' is used fairly frequently - though never by Lem, I would suggest!), with Americanised spellings being also the adopted preference; and of course, we must not ignore the now depressingly familiar and inevitable e-book typos - for those who purchase the Kindle edition, anyway!So what do I think of 'Solaris', overall...?If you' have a particular liking for novels that feature taut and unambiguous plots, I'm afraid that 'Solaris' is unlikely to appeal. (If you long for an ingenious yet engrossing read that simply brims with tension and thrills - and if you're willing to grant Stanislaw Lem the opportunity to really impress you - then I suggest you try  The Invincible , instead.) The resident characters of Solaris Station aren't particularly well-drawn or credible creations, either - being little more than the vaguest of cyphers in this strangest of strange tales, with every last one of them rarely managing to rise above being the annoyingly weak and aimless outcast. Many's the time I yearned to reach inside this novel, grab them by the shoulders, and liven them all up with a damn good shaking!That said, the novel does of course eventually redeem itself...in part. For it's almost certainly at its best when the author conjures his majestic descriptions of Solaris from the page - the rising and setting of its twin suns, for example, or the ebbing and flowing of its wide expanse of imperturbable ocean. I won't deny that it's an innovative and sometimes fascinating work - probably deserving of its place in the pantheon of Sci-Fi greats, I should think - so that it must surely warrant your interest, and a little of your precious time, on that basis alone. I can easily understand how it may have garnered an inordinate amount of acclamation and awe in certain quarters, too, because it's the kind of novel where a definitive interpretation of what it's all about is very elusive indeed - a situation that usually invites a good deal of speculation and appreciation that isn't perhaps merited or is necessarily appropriate. 'Solaris' boasts some clever ideas and concepts, it's true; but the author's endless deliberations are never fully explored and certainly never concluded - meaning (unfortunately) that the novel never quite manages to escape a relentless and looming sense of exasperation, as the reader trudges ever onwards through the pages of this tome. It's generally a gainful, thought-provoking read - and occasionally a superb one, too; but personally, I wouldn't rate the novel any more highly than that.

First let’s get the translation straight; Wikipedia states there is only one English translation, by Joanna Kilmartin and Steve Cox, and that this is actually a translation of the French translation and, further, that Lem himself, who read English fluently, repeatedly voiced his disappointed in this translation. It further states that an improved translation seems unlikely due to rights issues. However my edition states ‘This is the first English translation directly from the original’ by one Bill Johnston and I have absolutely idea whether this is considered a better or worse translation but I found the prose clumsy and extremely heavy going. So please bear that in mind regarding my comments below!So what is the book about? I’m not sure I can answer that question. I’m not even sure Lem could have answered it. On a purely prosaic level it is about the planet Solaris. Largely ignored when first discovered as it was calculated that its unstable orbit around a binary pair of stars meant it would shortly be meeting its end, but it later turns out that orbit was somehow being actively managed to maintain stability by what was now interpreted to be a sentient planet; at least the ocean of plasma covering the surface is thought to be sentient. This new understanding has generated much renewed interest in the planet and the possibility of making Contact with it. By the start of the book this research has been ongoing for over a hundred years with the only real progress being the creation of whole libraries of books cataloguing the unfathomable behaviour of the ocean of plasma, of Solaris. Many theories abound but there has been absolutely no success in creating any plausible interpretation of these phenomena. Into this scenario steps Kris Kelvin the newest recruit to the permanent research station on Solaris numbering just four members including Kelvin.The narrative divides quite distinctly into two separate threads; the human interactions of the research team and the description of the behaviour of the Solaris over the many years it has been studied. The first is handled as a fairly straight forward story narrative as the crew try to understand the ‘ghosts’ so disturbingly created by Solaris from their own memories. The second is handled through an immense amount of incredibly dense pure exposition. Hard to read and simply documenting the history of observations of Solaris’ behaviour over the years and the abortive attempts to understand them. This latter makes up a good half of the text and its sole purpose seems to be to present Solaris as being utterly impenetrable and that ultimately all attempts to understand it are doomed. So effectively half of the book is just descriptions of the incomprehensible actions of the planet which remain to the end of the book unexplained and unexplainable. Very unsatisfying; the only philosophical conclusion seems to be that any attempt to understand any alien intelligence will be inevitably doomed to the same failure.Due to this lack of understanding and explanation these two threads never really coalesce; the human interactions are almost entirely driven by the actions of Solaris but there is no understanding as to how or why and, most disappointingly, the book never makes any attempt to give any conclusive explanation. It is interesting to consider the three cinematic adaptations of the book; the first was a 1966 Russian two part film for TV, the second another Russian Film made in 1972 and the third, and the one probably most familiar to people in the West, a Hollywood film starring George Clooney made in 2002. What is interesting about these films is that they highlight the dual nature of the book; the first adaption concentrating on the planet Solaris whilst the second two concentrate on the human interactions. Lem himself states that these last two have got it wrong, that ‘This is why the book was entitled "Solaris" and not "Love in Outer Space."’So we can take it from Lem himself that the main drive of the book is the unfathomable nature of alien intelligence. He provides us with excessively longwinded and dense descriptions of the behaviour of Solaris and never provides any sort of conclusion or explanation for them. Ultimately it all seems rather pointless; to go to such lengths to describe all the bizarre and fantastic activities of Solaris and then to tell the reader that this behaviour can never be understood. I was left feeling why bother? It’s a short book but it took a long time to read, ploughing through all that dense exposition, and at the end left me feeling cheated with no reward for all that effort. Solaris is described as Philosophical SF and maybe I’m just not philosopher enough to appreciate it. A somewhat grudging three stars; it did have some very interesting ideas.