Tuesday, 22 December 2020

The Three-Body Problem and the Problem with Hard SF


Were this set in Glasgow, the three-body problem would undoubtedly involve a grizzled detective telling all and sundry that 'There's been a murder.' At least, it would provided the eponymous detective hadn't died and had the series continue without him.

As it is, The Three-Body Problem is mostly based in China and surrounds a problem in physics. That isn't to say there isn't a grizzled detective - there is - or that there aren't multiple bodies - there are - it just happens that the three bodies of the title are astral bodies, stars, and not mutilated corpses left by the River Tay for the police to get their teeth into.

When it was first translated into English, Cixin Liu's novel took the science fiction world by storm. It won the Hugo for best novel in 2015. It has swiftly found its way into the SF canon for its modern approach to hard SF, dealing with physics and maths on a theoretical level in a way that has fallen out of fashion in all but niche circles since the millennium. Outside of Kim Stanley Robinson and Stephen Baxter, it's been a while since I've seen hard SF enter the (relative) mainstream.

The problem is that hard SF relies on the science itself, which restricts it to a niche readership. My scientific knowledge is workable. I couldn't launch a rocket into space, but I have a working knowledge of the physics involved in doing it. Equally, I can suspend my disbelief when it comes to scientific concepts and ideas; if a writer can make it believable, I can believe it. It does, however, mean that hard SF that makes the science the very core of its being - and I'm thinking of Greg Bear's Darwin's Radio here, for the first time in a long time - can leave me cold. Another example is Fred Pohl's collaboration with Arthur C. Clarke for The Last Theorem. A working knowledge of Fermat's Last Theorem was needed to access the book. Although most people have a reasonable working knowledge of science at a basic level, I doubt too many have the breadth of theoretical knowledge of maths and physics to access books like those.

This isn't to criticise hard SF too much: I write as someone who has read and loved the subgenre for years. A quick glance behind me reveals Clarke, Asimov, Baxter, Anderson, Aldiss among less well-known authors. No, it's highlighting where it can fall down. The pitfalls that a writer can become trapped by - quite easily, when even masters have done it - are easier to avoid where they are known.

The best hard SF isn't SF where science is the main character. Science plays a critical, central role in hard SF, that's true, but it isn't the whole point of it. The point of the best hard SF is what happens around the science. Take The Last Theorem. It's a sadly clunky read by two grandmasters of science fiction, where the main character's obsession with Fermat leads him to being caught up in a global mission. The problem is that the drive of the plot is lost behind the explanations of what the theorem is and how it may be solved. The maths replaces the plot. Now compare to The Three-Body Problem.

I can't claim that The Three-Body Problem is the best science fiction book ever, although it is very good. This last few days have seen me spending more and more time with it as I've become more and more caught up with the story's momentum. Yes, the main character lacks agency and exists mostly for the reader to see the story through his eyes. Yes, there probably has been something lost in translation from the original Chinese (although Ken Liu has done a superb job in making this a very readable novel). And finally, yes, the narrative structure leaves a little to be desired. But, when all's said and done, the premise combined with the events in the plot make for a compelling tale.

At its heart is the three-body problem itself, a physics problem relating to the interaction between three sources of gravity. The interaction of those bodies makes it impossible to predict the movement of the three bodies and how they will interact with each other. This physical problem is dealt with in no small part through an ingenius fashion: a VR game called Three Body. Wang, our protagonist, finds himself involved with it, along with various attempts by other players to solve the problem and stabilise the atmosphere of a planet in a triple star system.

This on its own is ingenius. This, combined with the rest of the plot, makes for compelling reading, although there are some elements that don't make sense. Wang is a nanoscientist who finds himself embroiled in a global conspiracy which centres in China. It's a curious book, packed with original takes on familiar tropes. Perhaps it's the influence of the communist regime in China itself; this is very much a book that couldn't be written by a Western writer, and it's refreshing for it. That isn't to say it's unquestioning of the Chinese regime: there are clear criticisms present within Cixin's writing.

The science of The Three-Body Problem is a driving force, but it is the other events which make this a good book, not the science. We have theoretical physics, yes, but explained and applied on a level that don't make this book an indecipherable instruction manual. Hard as the science is, it is applied to the plot in a way that means it compels rather than repels the reader.

And this is how it should be. Science front and centre, but also within. The point is what happens using the science, not the science itself. It's a lesson most writers have taken to heart and used well, but it's also a fine balancing act. Even masters have got it wrong, by either hiding their science too much or by relegating events to a secondary role.

I look forward to reading The Dark Forest. It's been a pleasure reading hard SF with a really solid storytelling core. Long may it continue.

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