The essence of a great science fiction or fantasy novel is the world. There, I said it. Feel free to disagree. But I haven’t fallen in love with a novel without first falling deep into the author’s imaginary world. So naturally it was the most extreme worlds that became my favorites. And in the hands of the best authors those unique worlds produced not only memorable places and stories, but fertile ground for things like social and political commentary as well. There is something to be said for taking things to their limits. In each of these novels the author has taken ideas about our humdrum world and pushed them to the extreme (as if I hadn’t already overused that word). In doing this, in seeing these exaggerated versions of our world, we are allowed glimpses of possible futures or of alternate versions of the present or even the past.
The Drowned World by J.G. Ballard
To grasp the significance of J.G. Ballard’s novel it’s important to remember that it was written in 1962 because it sounds like a novel that was written in the last few years. In fact, more than one book has been written in the last few years with a similar premise. The Drowned World was the first book I read in what I’ll call the “scientific expedition into an unknown world” genre. A kind of global warming has devastated the world. The polar ice caps are melted, flooding the northern hemisphere, transforming the land into something that resembles the Triassic period (now that’s extreme). But what’s truly great about The Drowned World is the way in which this transformation shapes and affects the characters. Our protagonist literally finds himself regressing into an earlier state, feeling more primitive and impulsive, devolved like his world. It’s a perfect of example of the interplay of character and environment and a keen commentary on the fragility of our society.
The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi
Here we encounter another world wrecked by flooding and eco-disasters, a world in which biological plagues wreak havoc on the population and strange, genetic experiments run wild (a population of feral Cheshire Cats). We are in the drowned world of 23rd century Thailand, a place that is powered (literally) by springs (check the title of the book). Food sources are controlled by vast global conglomerates (this one is just a fact of the modern world) and the last remaining seed bank is a treasure our protagonist will do anything to acquire. The Windup Girl might just be the future of agriculture or our present.
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin
There is a point in the novel where the narrator, Genly Ai, wonders whether the peculiar nature of the people of Gethen—also known as Winter, the perpetually cold and snowy planet in Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness—are a product of the extreme environment or some sort of genetic experiment long ago abandoned. We never discover the answer. Rather, Le Guin’s novel is a meditation on the nature of the Gethenites’ sexual identity. See, the people of Winter have no fixed sex. They shift from male to female in a cycle and choose partners to suit their current sex. Our narrator is an envoy, a man from another world trying to make first contact with Gethen. He is ultimately thrown out by one faction, embraced by another, betrayed, befriended, and saved. The novel concludes with one of the more memorable segments in science fiction, a month’s long journey across a glacier that leaves Genly (male) alone with Estraven (alternately male and female). The two are trapped, isolated as they move across the ice. In this private world we confront the notion of what it is to be a man or a woman and how we define our relationship between the two.
Dune by Frank Herbert
Arrakis, also called Dune, is a planet entirely devoid of surface water, a desert from top to bottom. And everyone who lives there—the native population, the fremen—is entirely focused on conservation and desert survival. The desert of Arrakis is merciless, but it’s also the only place in the universe where the spice, mélange, exists. Born of sandworms, the spice is a kind of catchall mystical, pseudo-scientific, quasi-religious super drug. Control of the spice equals control of the empire. And the spice is born out of this extreme environment, as are its spice-consuming, blue-within-blue-eyed population, the fremen. These folk are the true children of the desert. Their stillsuits turn every man or woman into a walking ecosystem, a self-sufficient, recycling machine in stylish brown leather. There are a hundred different reasons to praise Dune, but it was the severity of Herbert’s depiction of desert life that most struck me when I first read it.
Solaris by Stanislaw Lem
Okay, I saved this one for last because Stanislaw Lem’s Solaris gets the prize for most extreme world. Solaris, the eponymous planet, contains only one living organism. The planet wasn’t populated by a billion life forms that rose out of the ocean, rather the planet-sized ocean became a single life form. As the novel opens we learn that scientist have already spent decades studying the ocean. Volumes have been written about it. Generations have studied Solaris, but the ocean remains a mystery. The people of earth are unable to communicate with Solaris and it’s not for want of trying. Even the planet wants to communicate with humanity. It creates grand structures and humanoid figures, using mimicry to attempt communication. It doesn’t work. Contact is never achieved. Solaris is about the limitations of our species. It’s about trying to understand something that is completely different from you. It’s a contemplation of what is alien and thus human as well.
Originally published in July 2017.
Michael Johnston has always been an avid reader of science fiction and fantasy. He studied architecture and ancient history at Lehigh University and earned a master’s degree in architecture from Columbia University. Michael worked as an architect in New York City before switching to writing full time. He is the co-author of the YA Heart of Dread trilogy with his wife, Melissa de la Cruz. His novel Soleri is available from Tor. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife and daughter. You can find him online at his website and on Twitter @MJohnstonAuthor.
I’d nominate the novel Hothouse for this category, by the late, great Brian Aldiss.
Quoting from Wikipedia: “Set in a far future, the earth has locked rotation with the Sun, and is attached to the now-more-distant Moon, which resides at a Trojan point, with cobwebs spun by enormous spider-like plants. The Sun has swollen to fill half the sky and, with the increased light and heat, the plants are engaged in a constant frenzy of growth and decay, like a tropical forest enhanced a thousandfold.”
Interesting list, but none of these come close to Mesklin in _Mission of Gravity_, or the neutron star in _Dragon’s Egg_.
Gotta include Harry Harrison’s Deathworld trilogy here!
I wouldn’t say that Estraven is alternately male and female. Le Guin makes the point, as I recall, that Gethenites were neither, for most of their monthly cycle, and that their sexuality was potential in kemmer until interaction with another polarized it.
Always felt a bit funny about Gethen. I live in a cold place, and while an awful lot of what she had to say about what ecologies and landscapes dominated by winter rang true (particularly the approach to the Gobrin Ice, and the journey across it), it was hard to see how an entire world would keep from sliding into a global snowball state if it was cold everywhere. There didn’t seem to be anywhere warm, even in the tropics. I know that they had summers, but Gethen seemed balanced on a climatic knife-edge to me.
Any love for Roshar in the Stormlight Archive? Superstorms that the ecology has adapted to but can still flay the skin off of an unprotected human. Pretty extreme.
What, no love for Mission of Gravity? Is memory that short?
Well you could probably make a list of five (or ten) extreme worlds from Hal Clement alone :) Mesklin (of course!) for starters, and the world from Star Light. Vernor Vinge’s “A Deepness in the Sky” also has a crazy crazy world.
For less extreme worlds, there’s Asimov’s Gaia (very earthlike physically but, again a world-organism, albeit an understandable one as it evolved partly from humans), Brin’s Kithrup (and does the Sun in Sundiver count? Pretty extreme if so!) and Niven’s Jinx/We made It/Plateau.
Janet Kagan’s Hellspark is mostly set on the planet Lassti, which is prone to massive electric storms. The plants are adapted to use that energy, so any contact can cause a major shock. Some collect static electricity caused by rubbing against each other in the wind, and water plants which use the motion of the stream… It is a fascinating ecology.
Also, Petaybee in the “Powers that Be” trilogy by Anne McCaffrey and Elizabeth Ann Scarborough. Colonized on the only land available, the polar ice caps, winter is a very serious thing. (Also there’s something weird going on in the caves, but that’s not the topic under discussion here…)
For that matter, Balleybran in Anne McCaffrey’s “Crystal Singer” trilogy. Mountain ranges of resonant crystal worth fortunes, but also mega-storms that whip up those resonances to an agonizing degree. And a nearly-100 percent chance that you’ll have a bad transition when exposed to the native spore, and never be able to leave the planet…
All the worlds mentioned are unique. I personaly fell in love in the sunless planet described in “Dark Eden” by Chriss Beckett. Just imagine a world where the only light comes from glowing plants and the shine of the Milky Way. Both sad and stunning world.
Gethen was cool but Alterra is my favorite LeGuin planet. One lifetime, one year – and no tilt for dark winters, just an eccentric orbit. I’d love to see Alterra on film.
Iza, at 9 –
I came here just to say that. What a strange and fascinating setting!
I remember, vaguely, a book I read in the early-mid 1990s about an ocean planet that was going to have a close alignment with a neighbouring planet and it bringing massive storms for the colonists there. They had a protagonist taking some sort of flying craft out and getting caught in the storms. I have no idea who it was by, or what it was called, but if anybody has any ideas then I’d be happy to hear them.
@12: That could be Bob Shaw’s SF trilogy consisting of The Ragged Astronauts, The Wooden Spaceships, and The Fugitive Worlds. These books are set on twin planets that are so close that they share their atmosphere and you can travel from one planet to the other in balloons or aircraft.
I think the Earth of NK Jemisin’s Fifth Season is extreme, in its radical seismic instability.
Excellent list, and I no issues with any of the 5 books included (all of which I’ve read, for a change), but certainly Hothouse (as suggested above by cecrow) and Mesklin from Mission of Gravity (as suggested above by several people; it was also the 1st title that came to my mind) belong. While we’re looking at Aldiss, how about Helliconia? During any one season the planet isn’t that extreme, but over the course of its solar year it certainly is. Maybe the ur-example is Tormance, in David Lindsay’s A Voyage to Arcturus. Earth itself is pretty extreme in William Hope Hodgson’s The Night Land and in Terry Dowling’s collection of linked short stories Wormwood (Aphelion, 1992). Neal Asher has a talent for creating planets with gonzo-level hostile organisms, like Masada & Spatterjay. John Shirley’s A Splendid Chaos does that as well, but I can’t remember the name of the planet.
For a slightly different value of “extreme”, Alan Dean Foster’s Midworld, which is an entire planet covered in jungle filled with the worst sort of want-to-eat-your-head critters (and plants!) imaginable.
Including one particularly memorable one that hangs from the underside of the tree canopy and disguises itself as a clearing with visible sky & clouds.
I will never forget :
A Darkling Sea: A Novel
Jan 28, 2014
by James L. Cambias
an amazing world and amazing tale of learning to communicate
How can one not add John Barnes’ A Million Open Doors and Earth Made of Glass? The gentleness of Wilson contrasts so dramatically with Nansen and Briand. Both extreme planets shape their cultures and the events which take place in them.
@12,
Could that be Summertide, by Charles Sheffield?
I read it a long time ago, and that’s vaguely reminiscent.
@19 Yeah, that could be it. Thank you :)
A shout our for the Helliconia books by Brian Aldiss.