Excerpt: “The Expanse” Is Epic Sci-Fi Storytelling at Its Very Best
Read an excerpt from my in-depth review of James S. A. Corey’s award-winning sci-fi series.
This is an excerpt from my extended review of The Expanse series of novels by James S. A. Corey. I’m a huge fan of the TV series (now streaming on Amazon Prime Video) and when it ended last year, I immediately dove into the original novels and short stories. After finishing them last month, I had to write something.
Note: The following contains potential spoilers. Consider yourself warned.
The Expanse novels are packed with epic, galaxy-spanning action involving massive space battles, secret military bases, horrific science experiments, corporate conspiracies, hard-bitten detective work, ancient alien technology, and god-like entities bent on destroying reality as we know it. But as thrilling as that stuff might be — and it is, indeed, very thrilling, especially since the authors continually raise the stakes — the novels never lose sight of the humanity caught up in the midst of such events.
This emerges in the individual characters’ stories, be it Kamal’s desire to reconnect with the family he abandoned long ago, Nagata’s regret for the sins of her youth, or Draper’s conflicted loyalties for Mars and Earth. But it’s also seen in the many examples of thoughtful world building, such as the Belters’ language and culture (which have been irrevocably shaped by life in the vacuum of space) — all of which feel plausible and lived-in.
Indeed, one could easily make a case that The Expanse is a masterclass in fictional world building, in striking a balance between what’s fantastical and bizarre, and what’s realistic and requires little-to-no suspension of disbelief. (It helps that one of the series’ key points is that the more things change, the more they stay the same, insofar as human nature goes. More on that in a moment.)
As I made my way through the novels, though, I was repeatedly struck by the authors’ balancing act between two distinctly opposing views of humanity. The first view is deeply cynical and supported by the many squabbles that occur amongst humanity’s factions, corporate greed and malfeasance, government corruption and tyranny, and the arrogance, hatred, and cruelty of individuals — and the impact they all have.
One of the best and most poignant summations of this view occurs in the final novel, Leviathan Falls, as Nagata and Kamal race to save dozens of ships from being destroyed by the ancient alien threat drawn to the ring gates — an effort that’s been historically hampered by human selfishness and distrust. But eventually, the ships begin working together and implement a protocol that Nagata developed for safe travel through the gates. At which point, Nagata and Kamal have this world-weary, heart-broken exchange:
Alex unstrapped and let himself down onto the ops deck. Naomi was in her crash couch. The light of the screen shone in her eyes and her pale hair. She looked over at Alex, her expression someplace between sour and amused.
“Yeah,” said Alex.
“It would have worked,” she said. “If we’d cooperated, it would have worked.”
“It would have been better.”
“I think about all the things we could have done, all the miracles we could have achieved, if we were all just a little bit better than it turns out we are.”
It’s impossible not to hear the exhaustion, sorrow, and disappointment in those words (and impossible not to hear them in Dominique Tipper’s voice).
The second view is much more optimistic and revels in humanity’s ability to adapt, unite, and show mercy and decency to each other. This view is supported by Prax’s determined search for his daughter, Elvi Okoye’s dogged pursuit of scientific discovery and truth, Anna Volovodov’s compassion and conviction, and even the unlikely bond that forms between Amos Burton and Clarissa Mao, two broken individuals whose only commonality seems to be a proclivity for violence.
This view is best exemplified, however, by James Holden’s endless idealism, whether it’s his belief that people deserve to know the truth, his disbelief at people’s selfishness and brutality, or his refusal to bow to tyrants and bullies. Such idealism frequently gets him in trouble, and is often mocked and dismissed as naïve, but people eventually come to trust and rely on it because it proves to be such a rare and necessary commodity.
One of my favorite things to write for Opus is a deep dive into a specific (and often obscure) topic, be it a sci-fi series like The Expanse, a long-running anime franchise, a beloved series of childhood books, the collapse of a social network, or a musician’s early discography.
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