Review: An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Hindustan Times

a day ago

Super, a 2010 Kannada film, imagines a strange but apt utopia. In its make-believe world, India has become a superpower in 2030. Indians are prosperous and have 'white servants' with the latter doing all the menial jobs and begging on the streets. The film's imagination is so limited that it cannot even imagine a utopia without poverty and discrimination. Today, as blundering billionaires seek to establish utopias on Mars, one can only wonder what dystopia that would entail for the rest of us.
Rivers Solomon imagines one such world in An Unkindness of Ghosts. In the novel, humanity — or what is left of it — has been hurtling through space in a ship called Matilda for over 300 years. They had to leave their former home, the Great Lifehouse, after an unexplained catastrophe; their purported destination, the Promised Land, seems increasingly elusive.
Matilda holds tens of thousands of people organised in alphabetical decks. The lighter-skinned live in the upper decks, where they luxuriate in wildlife sanctuaries, lakes, beaches, and sports fields. The darker-skinned underclass in the lower decks have to bear constant abuse, violence, and surveillance by guards. There are nightly headcounts, missing which leads to dire punishments.
The protagonist, Aster, is a resident of Q deck and thus, low in the pecking order. Her mother, Lune, mysteriously disappeared when she was young. The journals, notes, and sketches she left behind seem like 'eccentric ramblings' to Aster, who suspects she might have had early-onset dementia. Her friend and bunkmate, Giselle, however, has a different explanation.
Aster assists Theo, the Surgeon General of the ship, who has trained her in medicine. For many in the lower decks, Aster's is the only medical care they can access. Her services include abortions for those in the lower deck who become pregnant after rapes by upper-deck men. She also has a secret garden and laboratory, where she cultivates plants and synthesises medicines.
The worldbuilding in the novel focuses more on social relations than on technological advancements. Solomon's stratified society has many analogues with slavery in the United States. There are occasional forays into scientific curiosities and unfamiliar technologies, but the author glosses over them quickly. There are no elaborate explanations for how a spaceship with tens of thousands of people has functioned for centuries, why life on the Great Lifehouse collapsed, or where exactly they are headed. It seems as ad hoc as our era's billionaire space race and dreams of colonising Mars.
Aster takes things too literally and consequently, has trouble understanding what people want to say. She is also queer: 'a boy and a girl and a witch all wrapped into one very strange, flimsy, indecisive body'. Her friends, Theo and Giselle, also do not conform to the ship's strict codes. Aster describes Theo as an 'otherling' and 'gender malcontent'. He is part of the upper decks and close to the Sovereign ('the Heavens' chosen ruler') despite his questionable background. However, his sympathies lie with Aster and her ilk. The powerful in Matilda use religion to justify the worst abuses, but Theo is deeply religious and we often find him praying.
Giselle frequently disappears and breaks the rules, suffering brutal punishments. She is unable to come to terms with the world around her and becomes increasingly disturbed. It is these characters and their interpersonal relationships that make the novel compelling.
Solomon plunges the reader into this unfamiliar world with little explanation.In the beginning, this leaves the reader feeling adrift. But as the protagonists uncover Matilda's secrets, it gives way to the joy of discovery. Blackouts have become common on the ship, leaving lower-deck residents to contend with frigid temperatures. Some even suffer from frostbite-induced gangrene, requiring amputations. Aster believes the timing of the blackouts aligns too neatly with a mysterious illness for it to be a mere coincidence.
Towards the end, the narrative changes its cadence. Many momentous things happen in quick succession and the intricate plotting gives way to abrupt resolutions. The book also relies on the trope of a heroic individual almost single-handedly changing things. As a result, the ending, though satisfying, feels a bit contrived. Still, it is heartening to see a character for whom the reader has been rooting realise the unimaginable in a world skewed against her.
Fictional characters like Aster are rare. Her neurodivergence is not a plot point, but an intrinsic part of who she is. In fact, the novel does not even use the term to describe her — rather, the author makes it evident from plentiful clues tossed into the narrative. We see the world through Aster's lens and as Solomon puts it, she sees the world 'sideways'.
Not all characters are as deftly delineated. The new Sovereign's hate for Aster seems irrational at times. There are clues though: the Sovereign, obsessed with Theo, is jealous of the latter's close relationship with Aster. He cannot stand her resolute defiance either. While these might not seem like motivation enough for someone as powerful as he is, there are multiple real-life instances of autocrats obsessing over trifling matters.
Today, across countries, despots are making arbitrary decisions with far-reaching ramifications for people who have no stake in them.An Unkindness of Ghosts shows how resistance against their unbridled power can take many forms — sometimes bloody, sometimes with heartbreaking consequences, but also, often joyful.
Syed Saad Ahmed is a Boston Congress of Public Health Thought Leadership Fellow 2024. He speaks five languages and has taught English in France.