Book Review: Hyperion

I believe that one of the most poignant emotions that are evoked inside of one is when one reads or hears about a parent facing the death of his/her child. Whether it is burying his child, or lighting the funeral pyre or laying the child out for a vigil or wrapping the child in a shroud, the feeling is perhaps much more powerful than any other death. Compared to the deaths of any of other relatives and family members, the death of your child might be the most heart wrenching one. But why on earth am I talking about this? This topic came from a strange source and made me think about it, so as usual I jotted down some thoughts on this.

First, I have to explain that I am a bit of a science-fiction geek and have been reading this particular genre for the best part of 30 years now, starting way back when I got my little hands on HG Wells' books, like The Invisible Man, The Time Machine, Island of Doctor Moreau, War of the Worlds, God The Invisible King, Wheels of Chance, Research Magnificent, etc. Second, I usually haunt charity shops, flea markets and websites such as abebooks, Alibris, eBay and other places where secondhand books are sold. The idea being, just because it’s a secondhand book that doesn’t mean that the book is bad. Words are amazing things whose worth does not diminish with frequent use. Just because it’s a bit yellowing or has a broken spine, that doesn’t mean that it cannot be read again or anymore. But more importantly, second hand books come with an idea already built in that somebody found it good enough to put it back into circulation. Generally, you always win that way.

So now we get back to the topic. It was surprising that I have not come across this book anywhere else before, other than when I saw it in one of those charity shops I mentioned. This book, Hyperion by Dan Simmons, was originally published in 1990 and won a whole bunch of awards, like the Hugo and Locus Awards for the best science fiction novel). Naturally, I scooped it up and finally got to reading it and found its basic premise to be quite interesting. The story deals with a group of seven travelers, who have joined to go together on a pilgrimage to another planet, which seems to have a God like creature in residence called as Shrike. The pilgrimage is embarked on to beg for Shrike’s assistance to save mankind’s galactic civilization. The overall structure of this galactic civilization under threat is rather popular, but not what I want to get into in this essay. What made this book very interesting is the fact that the story is actually not just one story, but it comprises the individual stories of the seven pilgrims.

I am not going to say much about the other six sub-stories except to say that each of them was fascinatingly imaginative and amazingly creative and uniquely different. But it was one of those seven stories which really tugged my heartstrings and made me want to write about it. It is the story of one of the pilgrims mentioned above, who is carrying a baby of about 6 months of age. That bewildered me at the beginning. What on earth is this? Did you ever hear of a hero going off on a galactic quest carting a baby around along with the essential nappies and vital baby formula milk, favourite blanket and other assorted vital accessories?

The story of that baby is amazing. As it so happens, a young woman was trained as a scientist and went off to research Shrike. But then something happens to her that is not really explained very well (nor am I going to try to explain it here), but the effect of that event or happening is that she starts regressing in age rather than growing older. Every day, she loses one day’s worth of life and memory attached to it or knowledge gained during it. The doctors cannot figure out neither the illness, nor a cure for it and so she finally ends up with her parents. Physically she is doing just fine, but she grows younger and younger every single day instead of growing old.

You might say that this sounds brilliant, to grow young again! But I don’t think we have really thought this through properly. In popular fiction, you would have somebody who is old and then grows younger for some reason till they reach an ideal age and then they stick to that age. This ideal age is say around 25 or so, when people are at the prime of their lives. Shades of She by Haggard, no? But you don’t really believe that this is good, do you? The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, has a similar theme, but that still doesn’t talk to me the way this particular story does.

I refer, obviously (or perhaps it is still not that obvious) to the feelings of the parent, in this case here the father, which is precisely what I was thinking about and what pulled so violently on my heart strings. As somebody once said, the worst experience in human life is to have a father bury his child. In other words, no parent should have to outlive his children.

I have a young daughter of my own and while I obviously cannot (and hope to hell not) imagine to ever go through this, but reading about how this father managed to go through each day shook me. Every single day that father was teaching his daughter everything all over again starting from zero or square one, knowing that tomorrow, they will still have to do everything all over again, because she would have forgotten all that she had learnt the previous day.

Still, going back from an age of 25 to 24 is bearable, despite it being 365 days of utter pain and enormous loss. From 24 to 23 is also OK, and perhaps it’s acceptable untill you reach say 12 or 10 years of age. 15 long years of seeing your child shrink, lose maturity and knowing that the end is inexorably coming. Yet still rushing about, trying everything and anything to get her cured and failing miserably.

Then childhood comes, where some of the basic human functions start failing. And then finally the dreaded day comes, when your daughter forgets language and the ability to speak and she also can no longer walk, but moves into helpless babyhood again, which is where the story ends. It was a frightening read for me and Scared the bejesus out of me. It sort of gave me a better appreciation of what your children really are. Emotional? Too crazy? Allowing what is science-fiction to become kind of real in my mind? You bet your bottom dollar On all of the above!

It did impact me and despite it being just a story, I was ended up putting myself in that father’s shoes. I am not sure if I would have the discipline and courage it definitely would take to live my life all over again, but this time in reverse. What do I do with the photographs that I had taken? The toys that she played with? How about the sleepless nights I spent walking up and down in the hallway with her in my arms trying to get her to sleep? Or the days I spent out in the garden with her, playing with her dolls or on the trampoline? Or reading a book with her? I can do it now, because we have a bright future in front of us together. It’s a joyful time. But would I be able to do the exact same thing knowing that there is no real future for her, because she is not progressing but is actually regressing and heading inevitably towards her death?

I know I will have to do it, but can I? I do not know, so I thought of asking you who also have children about what you think. Could you?

P.S.: This book was brilliant, a good read and comes highly recommended. There is a second part to the book also, but more on that one perhaps later…

All this to be taken with a grain of salt!