Teranesia

Quien pensaba que la ciencia ficción no podía dar más de sí, es porque no ha leído a Greg Egan. Greg escribe ciencia ficción hard, es decir, sus novelas están plagadas de términos y explicaciones científicas y técnicas, y esto no hace fácil su lectura. Pero, aun así, es uno de los escritores, en general, no sólo dentro del género de ciencia ficción, con el que más disfruto. Sus historias poseen tal capacidad especulativa, son tan ricas en ideas sobre el futuro que está al cabo de la esquina, que son un placer para la imaginación.

'Teranesia' arranca en la isla del mismo nombre, situada en Indonesia. Se trata de una islita en la que viven Prabir, de nueve años y el protagonista, junto a su hermana pequeña Madhusree y show more sus padres, ambos biólogos, y todos provenientes de Calcuta. Teranesia, la isla de las mariposas, es el lugar donde piensan que pueden hallar la explicación a ciertas mutaciones que están encontrando en algunos animales de la zona. La primera mutación (aunque no se trata de mutación propiamente dicha, sino de evolución) fue en una mariposa, por lo que su investigación se basa en el estudio de dicho insecto. Pero una guerra civil asola Indonesia y llega incluso a la isla. Veinte años después, el destino decidirá que Prabir deba infrentarse a su pasado, ya que su hermana, ahora estudiante de biología decide embarcarse en un viaje al archipiélago indonesio.

Decididamente, esta es la novela más "humana" de Greg Egan, un autor más preocupado por la base científica de sus libros, pero que en este caso hace más hincapie en desarrollar la personalidad de Prabir, su personaje principal, y de explicarnos cuáles son sus motivaciones. Al mismo tiempo no deja de lado el misterio científico que nos plantea, el de la posibilidad de que ciertos genes de ADN puedan no sólo ocultar todo el pasado de la especie en cuestión, sino que además esos genes puedan despertar algunas de las características de sus antepasados. Y, por supuesto, tampoco falta algo de metafísica y teoría cuántica, como suele ser habitual en Egan. Gran parte de todas estas especulaciones se encuentran en la segunda mitad de la novela, siendo la primera parte más convencional.

Aunque no me guste, es inevitable hablar de la edición española publicada por el Grupo AJEC, que es de juzgado de guardia. Erratas múltiples, fallos de puntuación, de sangrado, una traducción mediocre... Espero que en las siguientes reediciones hayan subsanado algunos de estos errores, ya que la lectura de esta interesante novela ganaría mucho. show less

I was extremely into this book until the last 5 pages or so. It felt like Jurassic Park meets John Varley. There was more than one point when I had to set the book down, stand up, and walk around my apartment for a little bit, just to shake off the emotions I was able to feel in connection with Prabir. I loved the way Prabir came out to the reader by simply growing up and having a partner. I loved the way this story would be unrecognizably different with a straight protagonist--it's an indelibly queer story, and I like that. Then Madhusree talked to a test tube and it understood her, and I was just left wondering if Egan should have shut the manuscript in a desk drawer for a few years before trying to finish it.

I don’t understand why Greg Egan generally, and this book specifically, are not getting more respect. Teranesia is unapologetic hard science fiction. It’s by no means perfect, but let’s give credit where credit is due: Egan is a master of the Genre. At the end of the day, his books make you think (quite literally, to understand the science driving them). There is substance behind the big words he uses, as I discovered after several Wikipedia searches and at least one academic paper. Very few authors, or books, will leave you with an idea that you turn over in your head over the next weeks. Egan does that.

Now, thoughts on the common criticisms:

The characters (and plot) as a pretense for the science: Ok, a fair criticism. The show more science really takes the spotlight here, and for good reason. Egan thinks through some interesting ideas, and the plot (and themes) follow the beat set by the science. Are the two perfectly integrated? Not quite – but this is tough to do. If it successfully pulled this off, this would be a 5 star book (See certain books by Neal Stephenson or Vernor Vinge).

That being said, I actually found the main character rather compelling: war torn, self-reflective, and (plot-drivingly) gay. The plot revolves around this character’s internal struggles, and his protection of his sister. What’s not to like? To be honest, though, I was turning the pages more to figure out “what’s happening with the damned butterflies” that “will our hero ever find his peace?” But that might just be me.

Critical of the humanities: In this book, Greg Egan uses some bullshit-spouting humanities-types as comic relief. Yes, they are straw men. Yes, they are a little indulgent. But they are also funny, and oddly prophetic for a book that is 20 years old. show less

In this novel, Egan creates some of the most human of his characters. Prabir, Madhusree and others all have strengths, weaknesses and peculiarities in their characters that make real people interesting.

At its core, the book explores the nature and courses of evolution and how it pertains to the meaning of life. That's right, the big question! Along the way, Egan presents a world view that is at the same time sober and awing, as well as scientifically persuasive.

Another topic that gets some attention in the book is the reprehensible treatment of refugees on Australian soil. In the past few years, Egan has been personally involved with efforts to correct this injustice.

Finally, I think that in Teranesia Egan pulls off one of his strongest show more endings. In my opinion, some of his other novels, despite their many strengths, suffer a let down toward the end. I absolutely love the last line of this book. show less

Not his best work. I liked the shift from astrophysics and technophilia to biology, but even though the main evolutionary puzzle/MacGuffin in the book was fairly interesting, a good cross between quantum computing and evolution, I thought Prabir was one of the weakest protagonists Egan has ever written, and the emotional logic behind his decisions was as incoherent as it was annoying. Prabir was especially irritating in the beginning of the book, when he was an unconvincing wunderkind; it was the least believable child character I've read since I suffered through a Don DeLillo novel. It really seemed like Egan got it into his head that he would write an Indian main character just because he could, because though his heritage plays a show more very minor role in the story, it's fairly incidental and ultimately doesn't add much. Also, maybe I only noticed this because I had read Luminous so recently, but Prabir's attitude towards his homosexuality ("aggressive ambivalence", if that makes sense) is almost exactly the same as the attitude of the protagonist in the short story Cocoon. My final complaint: the post-modern parody sections might have seemed funny when they were being written, but they provoke barely a chuckle at this point. I think this book could have been stronger if Egan had tossed a few more ideas in (the genetic changes described could have been much more dramatic and cooler; speaking of Luminous again, the setting of the Chaff short story would have been a much better choice) and if he had made the main character less of a tool. Time for a break from Egan, sadly. show less

Strictly speaking, I shouldn't give this a rating, because I tossed it on the floor after I reached page 66. Egan is a brilliant (sometimes too brilliant) novelist of ideas. For the first 60-odd pages this seemed more of a heartfelt as opposed to brainfelt effort from him, and I was eager to read more. But once he launched into a dreadfully ham-handed satire of gender studies, I gave up. Satire requires subtlety, and there was none to be found here. Maybe next time.

I have to admit that I didn't really get this book. It might be that you need to have had at least some formal instruction in biology to follow the plot, even. But I can certainly judge the quality of the writing (excellent!) and the insight of the commentary. For example, this book contains the most persuasive explanation of homosexuality. For social animals such as us, it pays for the gene pool to throw up infertile members @ some low frequency, so that they may contribute elsewhere, and help care for others' kids. Egan imagines this as the occasional lake formed by the steady current of the river of evolution.
I buy it!