Slow-moving (its chief flaw) but ultimately engrossing, Solaris is a much more thoughtful piece of science fiction than I am used to reading. Perhaps the most useful way to describe Solaris would be to provide a quotation from the book that, I think, summarizes its message:

"Man has gone out to explore other worlds and other civilizations without having explored his own labyrinth of dark passages and secret chambers, and without finding what lies behind doorways that he himself has sealed.

Indeed.

First impressions of this book were not good. Although it begins within the first few pages with an intriguing mysterious event, the book then goes into some stodgy exposition, with the main character, Kelvin, picking up book after book and "re-reading" them in a thinly disguised effort by the author to give us some necessary information about the planet Solaris. This method of exposition continues throughout the novel--at one point near the end, Kelvin "happens" to discover five books in a row, whose contents he then dutifully reports.

Despite this patently ridiculous device, however, the atmosphere of Solaris gradually grows creepier as strange things begin appearing, both in the laboratory and in the ocean outside. About a quarter of the way through the book, I began thinking that Solaris might end up being a horror novel. Even the exposition began to get interesting, as the ocean's character (though I hesitate to use that word) begins to coalesce. Unlike the ridiculously humanoid aliens of Star Trek, the ocean on Solaris is truly alien, a foreign entity that defies any attempt of anthropomorphization. And sprinkled among the exposition are scenes of awe bordering on terror. The most memorable is a description of a gigantic human infant wading through the living sea, and there are plenty of other thought-provoking gems throughout.

But, once again, the novel slowly shifts away from horror and, through the medium of the unfathomable ocean, turns into a meditation on humanity. Love, regret, longing--as well as panic, hatred, and fear--well up in the three scientists stranded upon Solaris, and Lem explores every emotion honestly. Although the ocean is always in the background, the story is really about Kelvin, Snow, and Sartorius--and, by extension, about all of us.

Solaris is not a blockbuster sci-fi novel. But it is a compelling example of what the medium is capable of achieving.

Copyright © 2001 Steven Wu