The Monday Book – Orbital by Samantha Harvey

Guest review by Janelle Bailey, avid reader and always learning; sometimes substitute teaching, sometimes grandbabysitting, sometimes selling books

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

I believe I caught just a tad of an NPR interview with Samantha Harvey, prompting me to add it to my library holds.

It looked, when I was struggling to get into a much thicker first book of the year (500+ pages of YA fantasy), like a sweet, easily digested thing to then pick up for a needed little break-in to the other.

Well…don’t let this book’s size–either in shape or number of pages (just over 200)–lead you to an erred conclusion anything similar to mine, that it would be, then, an easy read.

This is a beautiful novel of space exploration and a perspective of this earth we all occupy from space, the country borders, conflicts, challenges that exist on land nearly invisible from space, as well as a perspective of the people “in” space. And in all of that “space,” this is a dense and thoughtful, thought-filled and slow read.

A collection of six astronauts and cosmonauts from a variety of home countries (America, Russia, Italy, Britain, Japan) and ages and experiences are gathered together on a mission of this old space station, orbiting the earth. The entire book covers their 17,000-mile-per-hour, single day of 16 orbits of the Earth far below.

Tangentially, and as the stories are interspersed, we also learn about their earthly lives and some experiences. And oh, so beautiful are they.

My gut feeling is that this is all a little akin to Thoreau’s experiment at Walden Pond. Totally different, as it involves six people not one…and involves a spacecraft orbiting the earth rather than a 15×15 hut in the forest near Concord, Massachusetts, in the US.

But it is somewhat similar in, umm, “space” per person, possibly, and adding a totally different dimension and requiring these six people who barely know each other to co-exist. But similar to how Thoreau’s supposedly isolated existence at Walden Pond was the root of his experiment with keen observation of all surrounding him, so, too, is this. A component key to this story is what they all see from that far up, how they interact, adjust, accommodate, and also learn and discover and ponder about themselves. There’s a fine familiarity to this co-existence required for their success. But so, too, would it be nice–I think they’re saying–if those on the ground worked a little harder at getting along with each other, too.

There are numerous philosophical ponderings shared, some of which are just as sage as Thoreau’s and Ralph Waldo Emerson’s from that time. Emerson writes about the stars, for instance, and Harvey’s space travelers ponder sunrises, but oh how beautifully: “With each sunrise nothing is diminished or lost and every single one staggers them. Every single time that blade of light cracks open and the sun explodes from it, a momentary immaculate star, then spills the light like a pail upended, and floods the earth, every time night becomes day in a matter of a minute, every time the earth dips through space like a creature diving and finds another day, day after day after day from the depth of space, a day every ninety minutes, every day brand new and of infinite supply, it staggers them” (194).

And if you know me, you also know how much I treasure a sunrise, every sunrise.

This is simply a beautiful book–that thoughtful, that thought-filled, that wonderful.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Come back next Monday for another book review!

The Monday Book – Begin Again by Oliver Jeffers

Guest review by Janelle Bailey, avid reader and always learning; sometimes substitute teaching, sometimes grandbabysitting, sometimes selling books

Begin Again by Oliver Jeffers

Begin Again by Oliver Jeffers

If you think that this is a children’s book and thus merely for children, and you have no reason to read one, then start at the back and read first the “Author’s Note,” which is actually a lengthily astute essay, Jeffers answering anyone’s question about why he “made” this book in the first place. Or, note that its start is an epigraph with Mary Oliver’s ever compelling: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” from “The Summer Day.”

This is a gorgeous book, Jeffers the author and artist/illustrator, both, the norm for him. And whether you see it as a children’s book and read it to/with children, or see it as a coffee table beauty, something to be shared with anyone who sits long enough in your living room to enjoy it, you will be happy both to read it and to share it with others.

Rich in bright neons and capturing the stars and sky, Jeffers says in the essay at the end that it was not until he began to read and research astronauts that he came to some of the thinking he processes here. And I am certainly reminded of Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot while reading. That idea, that not only this “world” from afar is super small, each of us even smaller, is well conveyed.

And also Jeffers makes it very clear how silly (my word not his; he’s far more diplomatic, if subtly so) it is that humans have spent so very much–far, far too much–time on “us vs. them” operation and thinking, rather than all the WE we so could be/do/achieve.

[Deep sigh]…

If only everyone would read the book and seize Jeffers suggestion to: begin again…and anew. And then be willing to, each and all, let go of the conflicts to work toward togetherness, all of us as global family.

Perhaps this is the book everyone buys as a gift for themselves–and/or another–and then keeps on the coffee table or the dining room table for easy access this next year, sharing it with any who visit, reading it to any who will listen, and all of us working with Jeffers on this worthy mission.

Come back next Monday for another book review!