Dawn

In many ways, Dawn is the inverse of Lem's Solaris. Instead of human's futile attempts at trying to understand an unknowable other, it is the aliens that struggle to comprehend us. But in Dawn the Oankali (a grotesquely tentacled, three gendered alien species) are convinced that they understand us, perhaps even better than we know ourselves. To make matters worse, they have humanity in a corner. They have 'rescued' the surviving members of our species after a large scale nuclear conflict, brought them to their ship beyond the orbit of our moon, and have been studying them obsessively in isolation cells.

The Oankali are traveling traders in genetics. They are drawn to humanity for some of our unexpected genetic possibilities, and 'offer' in exchange, among other things: a new form of hierarchy, a different version of intimacy, and unlocking our latent potential. This trade is anything other than consensual. Though individuals among the Oankali are often sympathetic to their humans, they refrain from giving them the option of saying "No" to the greater trade at hand. Often it is only when it's too late to do anything about it that their intentions are transparent.

Much like Lilith, the main character, I found myself tempted to excuses the actions of the Oankali, perhaps to give them the benefit of the doubt when I know I shouldn't. As the book comes to a close, however, as Lilith sees proof of their intentions right in front of her, she loses all hope of retaining her autonomy or humanity. Though the Oankali are never outright violent towards the humans, even a momentary reflection upon the facts of Lilith's time in captivity reveals how absolutely horrific it has been for her, in the truest sense of the word. Through all of this, Lilith endures. She consistently rises to the challenges placed before her with a stubborn optimism, and despite some of her actions being vilified by other humans, I felt completely sympathetic towards her.

Butler walks a razor thin tight rope of suspense, perfectly balancing exposition with ambiguity. She also captures Lilith's textured and realistic inner world in such stunning clarity, and though the broader community of humans are not drawn in as much detail, none of them felt dumb or unnecessary.

If you've read any of Butler's other work, you'll be familiar with her austere writing style. In many ways I respect this style of writing. I think it takes an unimaginable amount of skill to write something that appears on the surface so plain and simple, while sacrificing no sophistication. No word is superfluous. And yet, I found myself wanting just a little bit more style or flair in Dawn. Surely it is in part due to her simplicity that her work is so accessible, and it certainly doesn't prevent her from reaching a lot of thematic depth, but I couldn't help but find myself wishing to be more floored by her prose.

Dawn hit me especially hard after I finished it. The completed whole elevates above it's individual parts. Perhaps the best praise I can give it is that I have a feeling it will be lingering in my mind for a long time, as all of the best writing does.