Culture

Yesterday’s Kin by Nancy Kress is a science-fiction novel about the experiences of geneticist Marianne Jenner and her adult son, Noah, after the arrival of aliens on Earth. The aliens have already established their presence in New York City when the story starts, probably because this novel is very close to novella size and Kress has to move fast. The aliens seem to have come in peace, but have brought bad news with them; the ensuing events will dramatically alter Marianne and Noah’s lives.

This is a very competent piece of science-fiction as far as the science goes. It is based on real, continuing research and is described in a way that lets someone as ignorant as me understand the exposition without finding it boring. Yesterday’s Kin is fast-paced, and the prose is well-written. The ideas the story raises are interesting, if not world-shaking.

Where it all falls down is the characters. Character motivation seldom makes sense. In the first chapter Marianne is at a party thrown in honour of her latest discovery. FBI agents show up and tell her in front of everyone that she has to come with them right this second and, no, they won’t explain why. They did not need to do this. They could easily have sent in one person in plain clothes to take her aside, show ID and tell her to excuse herself. It would have been fifteen times as discreet. Instead they walk in with guns and explain how they won’t explain in front of everyone. It’s very dramatic and makes for an entertaining first chapter, but has nothing to do with sensible behaviour. It’s difficult to discuss without spoilers, but ultimately the behaviour of the aliens similarly lacks sense, in that they understand human psychology well enough to tell one lie, but not another.

The novel also fails in that the point of view switches from Marianne to Noah, yet only Marianne is interesting. Fascinating things are happening to Marianne, but in nearly every second chapter we have to return to her tedious son whining about how he doesn’t fit in, doesn’t know himself or where he belongs. He eventually finds where he belongs, but I didn’t care. His main characteristic at the beginning of the story is an addiction to a drug that makes the user feel like a completely different persona each time it’s taken. Not only is this drug not used by the plot in any satisfactory fashion, but the author decided to call it sugarcane. Sugarcane is the most ridiculously twee and unlikely name for a drug that I can imagine and it shattered my suspense of disbelief every time I read it.

I’d also like to warn for what I call “vapid hate-clichés” in association with the story’s lone gay character. It’s not overt for the most part, so if you aren’t educated in the nuances of poor representation you’ll probably not notice, but vapid hate-clichés are there in force and I disliked it. Aside from all that, if you’re in the mood to read a short piece of mildly interesting science-fiction written in competent prose, this will do.