Solaris

I have finished reading the 1961 novel Solaris that I mentioned in my last post. I rank it as one of the better sci-fi books I have read because of its disturbing realism. None of these humanoid extra-terrestrials that are now so common - here all attempts to make satisfactory contact with the alien fail and yet it wreaks havoc. The characters, with all their inhibitions, distrust and confusion, are not straightforward. Many questions in their and the reader's minds are purposely left unanswered. Which all resonate with common experience.

The protagonist Kris Kelvin falls in love with an alien-created avatar of his long-deceased love Rheya and doggedly will not accept that she will probably cease to exist on leaving Solaris for Earth. Even after his colleagues force the issue by destroying the avatar, and some semblance of normality has returned, he ends up abandoning his original plan to return to Earth and the book ends "Must I go on living here the, among the objects we both had touched, in the air she had breathed... In the hope of her return? And yet I lived in expectation. Since she had gone, that was all that remained... I persisted in the faith that the time of cruel miracles was not past".

Earlier in the book Kris observes: "We all know that we are material creatures, subject to the laws of physiology and physics, and not even the power of all our feelings combined can defeat those laws. All we can do is detest them. The age-old faith of lovers and poets in the power of love, stronger than death, that finis vitae sed non amoris (the end of life but not of love), is a lie, useless and not even funny... Are we to grow used to the idea that every man relives ancient torments, which are all the more profound because they grow comic with repetition? That human existence should repeat itself, well and good, but that it should repeat itself like a hackneyed tune, or a record a drunkard keeps playing as he feeds coins into the jukebox..."

I found all this disturbingly reminiscent of emotions that rattle around in my ego. I hold onto relationships and principles without fully understanding why I do so. I find it difficult enough to even quantise such feelings myself, let alone explain them in writing. Had I been born, for example, to Hindu parents in India I wonder how different my inner thought processes, expectations and beliefs would be? The comparison is of course void because, if I had, I would not be "me". So maybe I am destined to remain an unknown quantity to myself - I know, O LORD, that the way of man is not in himself, that it is not in man who walks to direct his steps. 

Several films have been based on the book and there are numerous web sites on the subject. For example, if you want an in depth description of the manifestations of the alien "intelligence", try here.

Dreams

I'm reading Solaris, a 1961 science fiction novel. It is set in the distant future and has a good attempt to predict computer technology except they have to wait for the valves to warm up - and yet they still use tape recorders!

So, maybe because I went to sleep after reading about these weird humanoid manifestations, I dreamt that the door to my bedroom was opening (I was sleeping alone, Ali having been visiting her mum - which may be why my blog-posting has been above par recently). I instantly woke up, quite alert, and thankfully was able to verify that in fact the door was firmly closed.

Which says something about dream vs. reality time-lines. Experience confirms that long dreams can sometimes occupy very little real time space. And yet this one was synchronised to the second.

I can also verify that dreams can definitely be in vivid colour and that I can both hear and be heard and be understood. A recurrent dream-theme I have mentioned before is my ability to "fly". Odd perhaps but not unique although you get some pretty weird stuff if you Google it. In these dreams I sort of push inside (a little bit like the pushing one does to defecate only located much higher up) and if I push hard enough sometimes, but only sometimes, is it enough to raise me off terra-firma. Once levitated then I can soar more freely, though usually I am limited in height and duration. Whilst flying I remain approximately upright - never zooming horizontally like Superman. In that other realm, reality, I have often tried this pushing but sadly with no effect (yet).

The experience sometimes includes the ability to jump unusual distances. Typically I can be at the top of a high stairwell and jump down ridiculous numbers of steps and yet land gracefully. And in my dreams I try to be surreptitious as I get embarrassed about what other people must think of my antics.

I mention my flying ability here (how I wish I could do it for real) because of the amazing scenery in these dreams - I am awed by the rapid changes of perspective and panorama as I navigate. On a recent occasion I was impressed by the richness and complexity of the tapestry of landscapes - it seemed as if I was aware that I was in a dream and yet everything looked so real and the thought occurred to me - how could my paltry imagination come up with such splendour?

Sci-fi writers, and more recently Physicists, have played with the idea that what we think of as reality may be little more than a dream. One wonders who is doing the sleeping? The cornflakes I ate just now seemed pretty real and I can still feel them rummaging around inside me but soon, come a few hours, they will be little more than a memory. All our reality is but an instant in time that evaporates rapidly into ephemeral memory. And neither is our future secure: at best it is only hope: hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.

Which is, I suppose, why man builds edifices, like the many standing stones here in the British Isles, many with ogham inscriptions. Whilst distance may lends enchantment and memories may dull with time, a stone pillar with obviously man-made markings is visible proof that folk really existed and lived their lives all those years ago. I wonder if, in my life, I have made any permanent marks...