Octavia Butler‘s Lilith’s Brood is the best “hard” science fiction I’ve read since The Sparrow.
It’s actually a trilogy of short novels (maybe even novellas)–Dawn (1987), Adulthood Rites (1988), and Imago (1989)–that were collected under the title Xenogenesis (1989) and then republished as Lilith’s Brood in 2000.
The novel/s revolve/s around the encounters between humanity and an alien race, the Oankali. Earth has been ravaged by an incredibly destructive war, and the survivors are either isolated in very remote places or are with the Oankali as something between prisoners and guests. The aliens, a tri-gendered race who survive by searching out new races and exchanging genetic material with them, vary drastically in appearance and create an intense revulsion in humans, at least initially.
Humanity holds a special attraction for them due to the presence of cancer, a seductively intriguing condition for a race that is able to modify genetic structures at will. Humans that live and mate with Oankali are made genetically perfect: disease-free, strong, etc., but many elect instead to resist the presence of the aliens, sometimes violently. Most of those that live outside the presence of the Oankali are sterilized, which contributes both to the resistance and to the draw of integrating with Oankali family groups.
The books trace out conflicts around sexual rights, freedom, and the line where true understanding across the species barrier remains impossible. The first book is the story of Lilith Iyapo, a human tasked by the Oankali with starting the resettlement of Earth; the second follows one of her children, an Oankli-human mix known as a construct; and the third, a next-generation construct who is the first to possess the full range of Oankali genetic skills.
I called this “hard” science fiction, but don’t be put off: the books are character-driven and almost lyrical. This is Butler writing near the height of her considerable powers, and the intelligence and scope of consideration she gives to the various points of view and challenges embedded in the setting is fantastic. Oankali culture is shown with clarity and sympathy, which is truly the mark of mastery in books about aliens.
Brilliantly, she also sums up the essential conflict of humanity as being the poor luck to be a species that is both highly intelligent and highly hierarchical, a combination the Oankali rarely see. That’s an insight worth reflecting on.
#WhatIWishICouldDo
Butler’s restraint in showing Oankali perspectives and culture is fantastic: by focusing on a small handful of issues, she is able to make the aliens understandable and sympathetic. I think the temptation is to delve into all, or nearly all, of the corners of an alien culture, and doing so may often make it harder for the reader to really gain the level of desired insight.