If God is anything like a middle-class white chick from the suburbs, which i admit is a long shot, it's what you do about what feel that matters.

(4.25?) This was a beautiful and heart wrenching book. The characters were attaching and you can't help but root for them... but also cry with them. An interesting take on the first contact with alien trope.

It has been a while since a book made me cry.

The Sparrow begins with a concise prologue, so unassuming that I overlooked its significance. Within this prologue, however, is a reminder, a sort of caveat that hangs over the book:

The Society [of Jesus:] asked leave of no temporal government. It acted on its own principles, with its own assets, on Papal authority. The mission to Rakhat was undertaken not so much secretly as privately—a fine distinction but one that the Society felt no compulsion to explain or justify when the news broke several years later.

The members of the Jesuit Rakhat expedition are amateurs. They are brilliant priests and scientists, to be sure, but none of them are astronauts, and they are amateur anthropologists and diplomats at best. So much of our history of space travel has been dominated by government organizations that sometimes we forget civilians, with the right technology and resources, can venture into space too. The Rakhat expedition is the first of its kind; Emilio's linguistic adventures with remote groups of humans are the closest anyone comes to having first contact experience. The outcome of the expedition is a sobering reminder to those who eagerly await our first visit to an inhabited planet: we're human, so we are probably going to screw it up.

This is a message not of pessimism but of realism. The Sparrow, its religious themes notwithstanding, is overwhelmingly about realism and not denying the facts of the moment. There are two interleaved stories linked by one man, Jesuit priest Emilio Sandoz, although the Emilio from one story seems nothing like the Emilio of the other. In 2060, Emilio is a broken man trying to recover from degrading, dehumanizing trauma. His expedition to Rakhat was twenty years earlier by Earth's count, but thanks to the effects of relativity, it has only been a few months since he was rescued—and though forty-five years passed on Earth while he was gone, he only spent three years on Rakhat. Emilio is the sole survivor of an ill-fated voyage of discovery, a victim of cultural miscommunication and physical assaults, and a prisoner of his guilt and self-pity.

After the disappointing anti-linear narrative that was n  Time's Arrown, MDR's use of flashbacks is a nice reassurance that non-linear storytelling still works. Moreover, MDR's attempt to use foreshadowing and dramatic irony to create suspense works where Martin Amis' fails miserably. The Sparrow begins in 2060, with Emilio rescued and returned to Earth. He is incoherent and inconsolable, but the reports from the rescue team include scandalous, horrifying facts: they found him in the equivalent of a brothel, and he killed the child who guided them to him. The Emilio Sandoz of 2019, the dreamer, the community activist, is not capable of such actions. How does he become the broken man we meet at the beginning of the book? Every moment spent on the story of the expedition is tainted by the knowledge that everyone except Emilio dies, knowledge made all the more tragic by MDR's great characterization of Jimmy Quinn, Sofia Mendes, and Anne and George Edwards.

I didn't expect to fall for the love triangle between Jimmy, Sofia, and Emilio. I groaned at first, worried that this subplot might derail parts of the larger story. If anything, the love triangle had the reverse effect, for it added another dimension to Emilio's struggle with his faith in God. He goes to Rakhat because he knows that, somehow, he has spent his whole life preparing for this mission. And until now, his vow of celibacy has never troubled him, unlike some priests. But he never really confronts the issue until they arrive on Rakhat. He acknowledges the attraction is there, which is better than an outright denial, but he does not confront his feelings. As a result of their proximity on Rakhat, however, he can no longer ignore the budding romance between Jimmy and Sofia, and Emilio realizes he must make a choice. He does not seem to find this choice difficult, but it is telling. Emilio is a man of God. Despite his threats during his recovery to leave the Society, he has always placed his faith in having a purpose as revealed to him by a higher power. This philosophy gives him strength—and so when it fails him, it is all the more devastating.

This juxtaposition of religion and exploration fascinates me. MDR draws explicit comparisons to other missionary activities where priests have met resistance, torture, even death. This is slightly different, however, because any remote tribe of human beings is still a group of humans. There is still, at some level, a basic shared frame of reference. The Runa and Jana'ata, in contrast, are literally alien beings. In her depiction of them, MDR brings to bear her education in her cultural and biological anthropology, much to her credit. The predator-prey social hierarchy of the Jana'ata and Runa, respectively, along with the strict population controls is a depiction both alien yet easily comprehensible. The Rakhatians are not as terrifyingly different as, say, the Oankali from n  Lilith's Broodn, yet they are no less dangerous. If anything, their moments of human-like reactions disarms the expedition. It becomes all too easy to forget that a person like Supaari is not merely a merchant of a foreign land. He is a predator, one with different rules. The Runa and Jana'ata both share some traits in common with humans, but they are not human.

It's this discrepancy, and his failure to keep it in mind, that threatens Emilio's faith. From the beginning, the Rakhat expedition feels like it is blessed. First there is the miracle of detecting the radio transmissions and realizing what they are. Then the Society confirms Emilio's choice of his friends as members of the expedition—even Anne, stubborn and reticent, eventually decides to go. They find an appropriate asteroid and make the journey to Alpha Centauri without issue. The planet's atmosphere and vegetation are hospitable; D.W. and Alan Pace's health problems aside, the expedition members live comfortably on Rakhat for several years. (The lack of explanation behind D.W. and Alan Pace's issues bothered me, because everything else in The Sparrow is so meticulous and pertinent to the plot.) The Runa are amiable hosts; even Supaari's overtures are promising. After so much good fortune, everything goes bad at once. D.W. and Anne die; then Jimmy, Sofia, and George; and finally Marc. The Jana'ata crack down on the Runa village where the expedition has been staying, and Marc and Emilio become dependent upon the good will of Supaari. But Supaari has always wanted only one thing from these foreigners: the status necessary to earn breeding rights. He uses Emilio as a bribe, and Emilio changes hands, becoming a sexual plaything and curiosity of the Jana'ata elite.

And the question Emilio asks is the foundation of theodicy: why? Why has God forsaken him? The answer, if you can call it an answer, is the same as most theodicies—free will, etc. But The Sparrow is not a work of theodicy, at least not on a broad, philosophical level. It is instead one man's attempt at theodicy, but an emotional one grounded in his need to recover from a trauma I can't adequately imagine. Watching MDR break down Emilio is a harrowing, slightly pornographic experience. Setting this tragedy against the backdrop of all the optimism and exuberance of first contact and exploration adds another perspective, transforming a single person's tragedy into a human tragedy on a grander scale. Although not emphasized much, it is clear that the actions of the first Rakhat expedition have upset the balance of power on Rakhat, with the Runa rising up against the Jana'ata. Once again, a human civilization has touched another civilization and brought ruination.

It sounds rather dark, doesn't it? Truthfully, The Sparrow is a dark tale. But in such tales, particularly set against the challenges and differences provided by science fiction, we often find the most human of stories. There is loss, chance for redemption, always the struggle to survive, to understand, and to grow. The Sparrow is tragedy, is triumph, is many other things—but they do not start with "tr," so mentioning them would spoil the alliteration. I still maintain, however, that the atmosphere of The Sparrow is not pessimistic, just realistic. Mary Doria Russell sends Jesuits and scientists into space, fallible human beings without much experience in alien contact. There are mistakes—terrible mistakes—but she never takes the easy way out by laying blame upon a single group. The Jesuits aren't evil missionaries; the scientists aren't calculating, inhuman explorers; the Jana'ata aren't heartless predators. With a complex plot and characters to match, The Sparrow reminds us that things will go wrong, and it isn't the mistakes you've made that matter but the ones you avoid by learning better.

n  n

Hoo-boy, this was brutal. And I mean that in the best possible way.

The Sparrow is a book that has been on my radar for quite some time. I've managed to avoid reading it for years. Why avoid it, you ask? Partly because I write on similar themes (Catholicism, the existence/non-existence and benevolence/non-benevolence of God, the search for meaning, etc) , and I didn't want to be unduly influenced.

But if I'm being truly honest, my resistance to reading this book was more about fear than anything else. I knew it would be, well, brutal. And I knew it would be exceptionally well-written. I thought that if I read it, I might not write my book(s) after all. It terrified me.

It turns out my fear was justified. I'm a bit of a wreck after finishing this incredible story of first contact by a Jesuit priest and his self-selected team of friends.

There are some passages in this of such surpassing beauty and elegance, I was genuinely stunned and had to put the book down.

If you are someone who is interested in the deeper truths of our existence, please do yourself a favor and read this book. It doesn't matter if you are Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu, Protestant, agnostic, or atheist. The Sparrow will shake you to your core.

I can't even.

Okay, so this review will be much like the book itself - a little from the beginning, a little from the end, a little from the middle, and it'll unfold very slowly. So just get used to that now and don't cry about it later.

I was really on board with this book for quite a bit. I didn't mind the characters initially, I thought they were all interesting (though flawed in their stereotypes); the slowly unfolded introduction to each of them and their personalities felt solid and important. Unfortunately those personalities waned throughout the novel and didn't feel as solid as they did at first. Basically the characters wound up bugging the crap out of me. Not so much them, but definitely their interactions with one another. People don't talk like this, at least no people I know. But maybe in 2019, they do. God, kill me now if that turns out to be the case.

But what really made me scrunch my face up in dissatisfaction (but I tried to get over it) was how unscientific these supposed scientists were. Yes, there were also some priests and religious-sorts, and the religion discussions and questions of faith seemed to ring true. But the science part? Oh, lord. Call it science fiction, call it speculative fiction, call it whatever you want. The point is, if you are going to involve science (even fantastical science) the science should be based on, well, science. We're not talking about make-believe things - we're talking here about space travel and first contact. These are things we know a bit about or are making strides towards. Maybe we know more now (2015) than we did in 1996 when the book was published, but as my nerdy boyfriend points out, a lot of what Russell wrote wasn't cutting edge - Arthur C. Clarke was way ahead of her and actually got the science right. In light of that, I don't understand where Russell was trying to go.

The "scientists" eat what they want, they plant what they want, they essentially do what they want. I mean, I haven't seen this kind of obtuseness since that old guy from Jurassic Park who didn't think twice about putting toxic plants on the premises. At least in that case, the old guy wasn't claiming to be a scientist, he was just a fan-boy. These characters have an education in science and they're all "Yay, we've landed, let's run outside and eat some food! But we'll wait a few hours to see if the first guy gets sick first, 'cause Science!"

Um, no.

There's this whole other thing that didn't sit well with me, and here, I'll put it in a spoiler so you can ignore it if you don't want to be spoiled: Three words: Emilio. Jimmy. Sofia.

Sigh.

Sofia is this bad-ass woman, right, who is all business but she's beautiful and has this past, so that's likely all going to come back up again, right, and all the boys like her, but Jimmy is tall and gangly and Emilio is the hottest Jesuit priest in the history of hot Jesuit priests, so of course she's all Team Emilio. But the whole "Jesuit priest" thing is problematic because of the celibacy, right. So at one point he looks at her knowingly and she "gets it" and he basically... hands her off to Jimmy? And Russell writes that it's like a mother giving up her child, and how it's for the best of the child, but the grief is real.

Um, Sofia is a grown-ass woman. Not a child. That whole bit rubbed me the wrong way. Because now Sofia and Jimmy are totes into each other and it's amazing. OH! But then they get pregnant! WTF?? They're trying to get off this planet (oh, but they can't because this bunch of scientists ran out of fucking fuel) but they get pregnant. I can't even... look, you're in a foreign fucking place, you are the alien there, you want to leave, there's still a lot of unanswered questions, and oh, sure, let's go ahead and plan on having a child that likely couldn't even survive on this other planet, even as Earth-like as it is, and then what about the trip back home? Seriously, guys. W.T.F.

My point being is I'm tired of this beautiful and intelligent women in literature and movies being all "I'm all about my work!" and then the minute there's an opportunity they're all "But my heart!" It's what almost ruined the entire movie of Interstellar for me - there's Anne Hathaway, brilliant scientist, right, top of her game, and everything is great except for all the times she thinks with her fucking heart and not with her fucking head. And there's this out-of-the-blue "Let's go here because this guy I'm in love with went there and even though he's probably not alive and it's the option that makes the least amount of sense for us, that's where I want to go because LOVE."

This all felt similarly. In the beginning Sofia wouldn't talk about anything but the work at hand, and then later she's all "Oh, the pretty priest doesn't want me. -Sigh- Well, that other guy might be alright. I guess."

I could go on but I think this rant has served its purpose. I certainly feel better anyway.

As for the final twist or whatever... I don't know, guys. Even that didn't work for me. Horrible, yes, haunting, yes, intense, yes. But I can't help but feel that if Emilio had been a nun instead of a priest, would the story have been the same? I think no. This is not a new story, just the perspective is different, and it's disturbing that people find this more disturbing than other stories.

Yeah, that's a half-baked idea, but I'm frustrated and not thinking clearly, so that's how I'm leaving it for now.

What I did like were the discussions on faith and religion, and the importance of linguistics, and even the anthropology that Russell was trying to achieve. As a few other people have pointed out, this is a first contact novel that could have taken place on Earth, and in fact has. So when you're reading and it's all "aliens, space!" it's really just a science fiction novel about things that have happened in most of our own history. Deep, right?

I'm bugged that I didn't like this more because I fully expected to; I'm bugged I like it as much as I did because what didn't work for me really really didn't work for me. I still plan on reading the sequel because I am interested to see where Russell goes from here, but I'm just not as excited by the prospect as I had been maybe even halfway through the book.

The scientists are idiots, and here are the reasons why:

1. They went in search of an alien civilisation by — literally — flying in the general direction of Alpha Centauri. They figured out the exact location along the way.
2. They arrived at the alien planet, THEN attempted to figure out where to land their spacecraft. Imagine if NASA had done that for the moon landing in the 1960s.
3. They tested the edibility of alien vegetation and wildlife by EATING said alien vegetation and wildlife.
4. When someone died from the alien diet, our scientists couldn't quite figure out why.
5. They weren't able to return to their spaceship in orbit because someone literally used up the fuel in the lander just to show off to the leader of the team.
6. They didn't have a clue what to do upon meeting the aliens for the very first time. No SOPs, nothing.
7. They emerged out of the lander for the very first time, on an alien planet, without spacesuits.
8. They disregarded the possibility of contaminating the aliens with pathogens.
9. They disregarded the possibility of being INFECTED by alien pathogens.
10. They spent six weeks on an alien planet before one of them said, hey, maybe we should start planting our own food — YOU THINK?
11. They plant human food on an alien planet and disregarded the possibility of destroying the local ecosystem.
12. They had no way to maintain radio contact with Earth, and shrugged it off because "everyone they loved was on the planet with them".

Most of the characters end up dead by the hands of the locals. This is not a spoiler.

They deserved to die, anyway. God damn idiots, all of them.

These 'scientists' are the dumbest characters in all of science fiction literature.

Mary Doria Russell clearly has knowledge about Catholic and Jewish faiths.
She examines theological differences: faith, and faith loss....
....allowing readers to examine our spirituality with God...
but with horrid-daggers - literally knife piercing disturbing-content - I’m left with a bad taste in my mouth.

Well written - not well liked.

çok uzun zamandır bu kadar sinirlerim bozularak bitirmemişim bir kitabı. en baştan itibaren uzaya giden din adamları ve bilim insanlarıyla dolu ekibin başına kötü şeyler geldiğini biliyorsunuz. sonuçta tek dönen sandoz ve o da berbat bir halde, insanlıktan çıkmış ama romanın son 100 sayfası beni mahvetti.
ve aslında kimseyi de suçlayamıyorsunuz çünkü mary doria russell romanı ve karakterleri çok çok iyi kurmuş. karatkterlerin hepsine ayrı derinlik katmış. sandoz’u satan supaari’nin bile vicdani bir sebebi var: aile kurmak.
bilimkurgu okumam pek ama bence bu roman zaten bilimkurgu değil ya da bilimsel birtakım bilgilerle donatılmamış. sadece yazarın mesleği antropologluk hissediliyor bol bol.
bambaşka bir gezegen, bambaşka düzenler, dünyadan daha eşit ve huzurlu bir yer... ve bunu bilinçsizce bozan insanlar.
cizvit rahip emilio sandoz’un acısı ve tanrı’yı kaybetmesi çok acayip bir biçimde geçiyor okura.
kitap biraz yavaş açılıyor, ilerliyor ve sonlara doğru aşırı hızlanıyor, sanırım anlatımın tek kusuru bu.

“Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it.”
“But the sparrow still falls,” Felipe said.

CW: Rape, body horror, sex trafficking of a child, murder of children, (alien) eugenics

So What’s It About?

In 2019, humanity finally finds proof of extraterrestrial life when a listening post in Puerto Rico picks up exquisite singing from a planet that will come to be known as Rakhat. While United Nations diplomats endlessly debate a possible first contact mission, the Society of Jesus quietly organizes an eight-person scientific expedition of its own. What the Jesuits find is a world so beyond comprehension that it will lead them to question what it means to be "human".

What I Thought

This is one of the most ambitious books I’ve read in a long time. It features a wide scope of knowledge and strong characterization, and it grapples with some of the most profound of questions about human suffering and faith.

The exploration of religious faith and suffering is at the book’s heart, and it is the core of Emilio’s characterization. He goes from agnosticism to faith to utter devotion to complete devastation. His belief in God is shattered by the catastrophes that happen on Rakhat and now he has to live in the aftermath of that total loss and horror while still trying to make sense of it (and therefore still “looking for God” in it).

The fundamental question that he has to grapple with is as follows: if God exists and we turn to him in thanks for the good things that happen in our lives, how do we make sense of our suffering? You can assume that God is not in fact a benevolent, loving God because he allows atrocities to happen to us; you can try to tell yourself that it is all part of a bigger plan and it will one day have meaning. The final option is just to accept that you deluded yourself into finding meaning where there was none - suffering is suffering with no greater meaning. This is the crisis that Emilio faces.

Emilio is an incredibly strong character. A physical and mental wreck in addition to a man facing a total crisis of faith, we see his pride, his hatred of being dependent on others, and how much he absolutely loathes being forced to tell his story to self-righteous, unsympathetic people who blame him for his own violation and simply cannot understand the horror that he has endured given how comfortable they remain in their own faith.

The other characters, especially the rest of the Rakhat crew, are very strong as well. They have close bonds, interesting conversations and great senses of humor. A lot of the book is just them bonding, discussing life and faith, and having fun together. This makes the gut punch of the book’s downward spiral all the more brutal. I was also very impressed by the sheer amount of theory and technical knowledge that the book encompassed, from linguistics to religious theory, anthropology and biology and space travel. That being said, I do not know that much about any of these things, so it’s hard to say if an expert in any of these fields would agree with me. I guess it’s safe to say that it stuck this laywoman as being very impressive .

And that is to say nothing of the inventiveness of the culture on Rakhat. The fundamental premise of the Runa and Jana’ata is so fascinating with the development of evolved predators and prey that they breed, all of their cultural specifics from how they conceptualize space to how they smell, and how the humans impact their world in ways that they never could have predicted. Alien first contact is a staple of sci-fi, and this is one of the most thoughtful examples I’ve seen where the pitfalls and culture clashes are depicted very well.

Really, my only caveat is that in the afterward to the sequel, Russell talks about how real-world historical missionaries and conquerors are held to unfair standards when we look back at them and she intended to write a story where they were more sympathetic than they usually are. Another quote on the general theme:

“Here, I had in mind the invasion of North America by European settlers. That was unquestionably a catastrophe for the native peoples of this continent, but at the same time, it was the best damned thing that ever happened to an awful lot of immigrants from around the world.”

I'm not entirely convinced her argument here is supposed to be that it balances out in some way - maybe just that the same event is experienced in entirely different ways by those who benefit and those who suffer? It's a kind of strange point to make and I still feel somewhat confused by what Russell is trying to do here. I did some poking around and found some interesting lit analysis about the exploration of colonialism in this book- I copied down this quote but cannot for the life of me find where I got it from: "Russell subtly raises concerns about the ways in which sophisticated cultures tell themselves cover stories in order to justify actions taken at a terrible cost to others." If this is what she meant by making those who do harm "sympathetic," then I think she certainly succeeds in the context of her own story, but I would personally argue that any overall comparison between the humans in this book and North America's conquerors is still a lacking one. My thoughts about this are very messy and uncertain and I'd be interested to hear others' opinions as well.

"What is a life worth living, and what is a life wasted, and why? What is worth dying for, what is worth living for, and why? What shall I teach my child to value, and what shall I urge that child to avoid, and why? What am I owed by others and what do I owe others, and why? Each human culture provides a different set of answers to those questions, but deity is nearly always embedded in the Why."

The above quote is from Mary Doria Russell in her Afterword of this brilliant novel. I think they sum up perfectly the very same questions that I found myself grappling with while reading this. Russell certainly won’t give you any answers to these questions, but she will give you plenty of intellectual food for thought. I admit to lying awake many nights in the past pondering the questions of the universe, but of late I knew the answers would not come so I set aside such contemplation. Russell managed to reawaken such reflections.

I won’t get into the details of the plot; just suffice to say that on the surface The Sparrow is about a first contact made with another planet. It appears to be a science fiction novel; therefore, non-lovers of the genre may mistakenly steer away from this. However, this is so much more than the introduction to an alien species. Sure, we have the opportunity to meet these, but in reality it isn’t all that different from making contact with another culture; albeit one that is completely unfamiliar to us. More than a physical journey, the characters in this novel are on a spiritual journey. The character development is superb. Father Emilio Sandoz is a Jesuit priest… but wait, don’t run away quite yet! He is someone that you will not be able to get out of your head once you see his soul bared to you in all of its most human components. The way the novel is structured, we are taken back and forth in time from post-mission to the preparation for the mission, as well as to the mission itself. We know from the outset that Emilio Sandoz is tormented and my heart broke for him. What could possibly have happened to this man that has turned him into such a tortured human being?

Aside from Emilio Sandoz, there are a number of other characters that are a pleasure to get to know. Perhaps my two favorites were Anne and George, in their sixties and happily married. Anne doesn’t buy into the whole idea of a God, but that doesn’t stop her from sustaining a valuable and close friendship with Emilio. The two are sounding boards for each other’s beliefs and doubts, and their conversations are priceless. Anne is very spirited, and her thoughts on marriage are another source of wisdom for any reader that is so inclined to glean a bit more thought about this institution as well. At one point she says, "People change. Cultures change. Empires rise and fall. Shit. Geology changes! Every ten years or so, George and I have faced the fact that we have changed and we’ve had to decide if it makes sense to create a new marriage between these two new people." Anyone with a spouse or a long-term partner can likely relate to this.

I could carry on about this for quite some time, but I don’t think I can really do the book justice. There is a lot to ponder here. My mind is beginning to spin into those dizzying heights that leave me feeling rather breathless and inarticulate. Much like the feeling I get when my son drags me onto some of those terrifying yet thrilling rollercoaster rides that he is wild for! All I can say is that you don’t have to be a religious person to read this book. You don’t have to be a science fiction devotee. But if you have ever stopped to consider what is out there that is bigger than yourself and what role we as humans play in this universe, then you might want to give some serious thought to reading this book. For my part, I am not done with Father Emilio Sandoz’s journey, and will continue on with Children of God, the sequel to this one.

"We need not choose one kind of majesty, forsaking all others."

3.5 stars

I’m not even sure what to say about this. It’s easy in some parts and horribly difficult in others.

In the main, it is excellently written and characterized. The science fictional setting is necessary for framing the events, but the story itself is not about science but more about the characters’ personal journeys of faith, of love and friendship, of community and compassion.

Not a quick or lightweight read but ultimately worth the effort. I didn't love it intensely as so many people seem to, but I can appreciate the appeal and I would like to read the sequel, Children of God, as I understand it functions as a true second half of this story.

Audio book performed by David Colacci
5***** and a ❤

In December 2059 Father Emilio Sandoz returns to Earth, the only survivor of a Jesuit expedition which had embarked some 40 years previously to explore the planet Rakhat. He is broken in body and spirit, but once he has recovered from his most obvious wounds he will be subject to an official inquiry as to what happened.

Told in flashbacks, the novel is a gripping tale of man’s search for meaning and the role of faith and religion in shaping our lives. The eight members of the team that set forth on the Stella Maris for Alpha Centauri are a small but diverse group – four Jesuits, four civilians – an astronomer, an engineer, a linguist, a musician, a physician, an ex-Marine pilot, a botanist, and an expert in artificial intelligence – six men and two women – Roman Catholics, Christians and one Jew. Like the Jesuit missionaries of earlier times, they go forth to explore new cultures, “so that they might come to know and love God’s other children. They went for the reason Jesuits have always gone to the farthest frontiers of human exploration. They went ad majorem Dei gloriam: for the greater glory of God.”

What an extraordinary work of fiction! I was mesmerized from beginning to end, and when finished I wanted to start reading it again to make sure I had fully understood and appreciated every part of this novel. Russell creates a world on Rakhat that seems plausible for all its differentness. Using two timelines – the inquiry in 2059-2060, and the exploration in 2019-2040 – is a tricky device and many writers fail when trying this technique. Not Russell. The movement from one timeline to the other is timed just right; as the reader begins to feel overwhelmed by information about this new planet, Russell brings us back to Earth to look into the psychological effects of such experiences. Just as the reader is itching to get back to Rakhat, the author takes us there. Knowing from the beginning that only Emilio Sandoz survives in no way lessens the surprise of what is to come; events are hinted at throughout the book, but no less gut-wrenching when they are fully revealed. Russell includes many moments of tenderness and humor to give us hope and lessen the tension.

Despite the science-fiction setting and plot, this is really a character-driven novel, and it is in exploring these characters that Russell really shines. The characters were completely real to me – even the aliens – and they showed the full range of human emotion and motivation, strengths and weaknesses. They were gentle, violent, laid-back, Type-A, inventive, anxious, frightened, excited, fearless, brave, peace-makers, agitators, intelligent, rash, compassionate, and conniving.

There is a sequel to this book: Children of God. I haven’t decided yet when (or whether) I’ll read it. I have to spend some time digesting The Sparrow first.

David Colacci does a wonderful job performing the audio of this book. His skill as a voice artist allows him to have unique voices for the many characters, including pronouncing an invented language for the natives of Rakhat. His pacing is good and I never tired of listening to him perform the work.

The Sparrow is a first-contact novel by Mary Doria Russell where humans in 2019 A.D. go on an interstellar mission from Earth to make "first-contact" with an alien species on a planet which, later they would come to know as Rakhat. The plot follows two timelines – one, of the scientific mission itself and the other, in the year 2060 A.D., where the sole survivor of the mission, Emilio Sandoz, Jesuit priest and linguist, returns alone to Earth and recounts his horrific experience.

The book was good, but I didn’t feel that it was as good as some reviews here on Goodreads led me to believe.

Let me tell you why.

But first, the good:

Interesting Throughout (Although it has its drawbacks)

Even though the pace wanes gradually, especially in the sections where Emilio Sandoz recounts the events of his visit to the alien world, the book kept me going as it has a very accessible prose. It is written beautifully and I think that’s the strongest point of “The Sparrow”.

n   Well Fleshed-out Characters n

All the characters, except Mark Robichaux, are really well drawn. I cared about what happened to them. One little problem I had with some of the characters was that that they seemed too sweet sometimes. Especially Anne.

n   Linguistics n

The main reason why I read this book in the first place was that this story dabbles in linguistics and anthropological studies. Emilio Sandoz spends some time studying the alien culture and learning their language. For me, those were the best parts of the book.

Now, the bad, which sadly overshadows all the good.

**Minor Spoilers Below**

n   “Science” in the Science Fiction is unsatisfactory n

The book is billed as science fiction, but after reading this as a science fiction enthusiast, I have to admit that the SF aspect of the book didn’t impress me much.

Here, the aliens feel more like humans than the aliens that they are supposed to be. There were only some perfunctory remarks about their physical dissimilarities from humans but apart from that, they felt more like humans to me than an entirely different species on an alien planet. But that might be because Mary Doria Russell didn’t really wanted her readers to feel that the book was set on an entirely different planet. She wanted us to feel that the book was set on earth itself. This is what she said at the end of her book:

Q: Until “The Sparrow” you had only written serious scientific articles and technical manuals. How did you end up writing a speculative novel?

A: The idea came to me in the summer of 1992 as we were celebrating the 500th anniversary of Columbus’s arrival in the New World. There was a great deal of historical revisionism going on as we examined the mistakes made by Europeans when they first encountered foreign cultures in the Americas and elsewhere. It seemed unfair to me for people living at the end of the twentieth century to hold those explorers and missionaries to standards of sophistication and tolerance that we hardly manage even today. I wanted to show how very difficult first contact would be, even with the benefit of hindsight. That’s when I decided to write a story that put modern, sophisticated, resourceful, well-educated, and well-meaning people in the same position as those early explorers and missionaries—a position of radical ignorance. Unfortunately, there’s no place on Earth today where "first contact" is possible—you can find MTV, CNN, and McDonald’s everywhere you go. The only way to create a "first contact" story like this was to go off-planet.

But the fact remains that as far as world-building was concerned, this book failed. It was as if the characters were acting in front of a green-screen background on which the CGI was to be added later but Russell forgot to add the CGI scenes onto the screens after the final editing. So although the characters were likable, there was nothing else to talk about.

One other major problem I had with the SF aspect of this book was that that the characters decided to grow plants brought from Earth on Rakhat in totally unconfined conditions. Surely, as scientists they should have been aware of the ecological disasters that could occur if someone tries to introduce a new (here, a totally alien) species of flora in a different environment. Australia with its problem of Cane toad and European rabbits is the prime example of that. There are even some invasive plant species that are wrecking havoc in Australia and other places of the world. Robichaux did gave an excuse that the plants would die within a year if they were not taken care of, but that’s just irresponsible behavior on his part. That observation was based on studies performed on Earth. How could he really tell what would happen to the plants in an altogether alien environment?

But what really annoyed me the most were the decisions that almost all of the characters made while they were on Rakhat.

Poor Decisions Made By The Characters

n  Walking Out Without Spacesuitn

As soon as they landed on Rakhat, the characters walked out without taking any basic precautions. It would have been more believable if they would have walked out first in some sort of protective suits and then gradually would have shed them after checking the air from land, as they did from space.

n  Lander Fuel Problemn

Okay, so we spend most of the book learning about Sofia Mendes’s exceptional intelligence. But then she throws it all away when her Ultra Light crashes and she and Mark use the Lander to reach the colony without checking the fuel. Due to that, they were stranded for the rest of their lives on Rakhat (assuming if nobody from Earth came to their rescue) as there was not enough fuel left in the Lander to reach their ship in outer space. I am sure those rigorous training sessions that they went through before departing on their voyage covered the topics such as “How to check your fuel gauge” or "Know your Pre-flight checklist - 101" or something like “Use Your Goddamn Hyper-intelligence Before You Act".

n  They Lived With The Species Most Of The Time Who Were Not The Ones They Came To Meetn

Now, singing drew the humans to Rakhat. But they stayed there most of the time with another species which had nothing to do with the singing that was heard on Earth by Arecibo. This made sure that as a reader, even after reading the whole book, we won’t know much about the alien culture that really triggered the mission in the first place.

Look, I am not discouraging anyone from reading this book. But as a science fiction fan, I felt disappointed. But if I assume that this was an historical fiction novel, it works on several levels. At least, it made me curious to know what happens to Emilio Sandoz in the next book. So I would definitely read the second book, if only to finish what I started, but I also have a lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, the poor decisions made by the first book's characters would produce some unforeseen repercussions for the characters of the second one when they reach Rakhat.

If that happens, I would consider it a satisfactory conclusion to a sweetly written, hauntingly memorable; but otherwise a scientifically flawed and sometimes, an annoying story.