SF Review; Alastair Reynolds, Pushing Ice (2005)

Reynolds loves his big, dark science fiction, and the vast, gothic canvas on which he writes has made him one of the most popular and acclaimed writers of ‘New Space Opera,’ with it’s universe wide conceptions and zillions of characters. His books are extremely enjoyable and captivating, with many fascinating, detailed ideas, and he is undoubtedly accomplished in his style; but like most of the other authors who fit into that hastily constructed genre, he has a few niggling problems that give slight reservations. Pushing Ice is his sixth novel, although only the second not set within his Revelation Space universe, and he is beginning to iron out some of those issues, although in this novel, much like the characters he throws to the mercy of fate, for every step forwards Reynolds takes another one back.

The novel begins on Rockhopper, a labouring ship built to drag ice filled comets back to the corporations who use it for fuel. We meet captain Bella Lind and her crew as they struggle with the boredom and difficulty of working in space, and in such close proximity. Their routine is broken, however, with reports that one of Saturn’s moons, Janus, has launched itself from orbit and is barreling mysteriously out of the solar system at huge speeds. Rockhopper is, naturally, the only ship in the system that can catch up with the moon before it goes too far out of range, and the crew are tasked with the mission to study it on the fly before returning home. From there, paranoia, disagreement and proximity increase tensions on board to melting point, and as the ship approaches Janus it becomes clear that their fates are being taken far out of Lind and her officers control.

Pushing Ice begins very slowly, and takes it’s time as we get to know Lind, her crew, and the operation of Rockhopper. A reader used to Reynolds’ technique of ‘future shock’ might even find this opening a little tedious, but there is enough craft put into the character development to grip and you soon care about these people. The tensions on board are well constructed, and Lind’s attempt to hold things together is effective emotionally, accomplishments that are new and refreshing to see in Reynolds’ work. Later, as the ship inevitably reaches Janus, however, the pace quickens considerably, which is both a relief for the excitement starved reader, and quite a jarring juxtaposition. Reynolds falls back on his chief talent; describing a dark, bizarre landscape with untold mysteries awaiting it’s new, human occupants, and his imagery is, as usual, skillfully done and very absorbing. But the increased pace leaves character development adrift, and as years are stripped away between chapters, the people we became attached to start to feel like strangers.

Later still, mysteries deepen, aliens begin to appear, strange events begin to add up to a solution decades in the making. It’s all very good science fiction; a huge canvas, great descriptions, imaginative ideas and creatures; but it almost feels like a different book to the one we started reading, and the early promise of a more emotional, tense, restrained Reynolds is broken. The conclusion to this new book is very satisfying, and in many ways surprising, another great step forward to Reynolds who has had problems closing his books in the past, notably with Absolution Gap. But again, there is a step backwards here too, as a couple of explanations don’t quite make sense, if a reader is inclined to think through them, an affliction that has never troubled Reynolds before.

Reynolds finishes with a fatalistic, but hopeful note that succesfully resonates, and I was left satisfied, but this is not the perfect novel that I’m still convinced his talents could manage.