Sundiver by David Brin

I just finished reading Sundiver. This appears to be my first David Brin since 2015, when I read the two novels that come right after Sundiver—Startide Rising and The Uplift War. Those are both better than Sundiver. But that’s not to say that Sundiver is terrible. I did finish reading it and am glad I did. But I'm not sure I would ever recommend this book to somebody else.

The most interesting part to me is this theme that Brin runs through the whole book: integration into a technologically superior society. It’s a theme that mainly comes out in the worldbuilding Brin does. This novel’s story takes place shortly after human first contact with galactic powers that have been around billions of years. In contact, humans provide an awkward question for these elder species: where did humans come from? As there is no record of who nurtured humanity to sentience, they are known as a Wolfling species, a phenomena that is known but rare. It’s inconceivable to some species that humans evolved without outside influence, and who should be humans’ patrons? But combine their unknown past with two further backstory facts, and humans are not just rare, but unprecedented: fact one, humans discovered galactics, not the other way around; fact two, at the time of first contact, humans were already in the midst of uplifting chimpanzees and dolphins. This places humanity in a unique position that the hierarchical minded galactics have trouble conceptualizing. On the one hand, species who uplift others gain prestige. On the other hand, species who are uplifted by a long line of patron-client relationships, older species, gain prestige. The fact that humans have one but not the other makes them an awkward-at-best newcomer to the galactic community.

As a science fiction setting, this has some interest. But where Brin is brilliant is when he draws parallels to Europeans moving into North America, naming specific Native American tribes and historical figures. He shows how one tribe tried to fight traditionally and lost, another tried to integrate and saved their lives by losing their identity, another tried this, another tried that. He explicates what may be the most tricky political situation yet discovered by man, through using a space-based parallel. Should humans continue doing independent research when so much of the galactics knowledge is now available to them? Should they integrate as soon as possible, picking a patron species and letting themselves be uplifted into the galactic community? Should they retain their independence? It’s a fascinating study on Brin’s part. It’s really burning in my brain at the moment. (The other ideas all deal with human psychology and how we respond to trauma and work in groups. The main point with the human themes seems to be a sense that no matter what the tragedy, our responses should be our responses, not our ideas of how others respond.)

But the book can’t get out of its own way and explore this wonderful premise adequately. Integration is often ignored in the book, as a murder mystery takes up half of the book. And that’s the biggest problem here: the book doesn’t know what it wants to be, and probably isn’t playing to its strengths. There were three points that made me want to stop reading.

First, the writing in the opening couple of chapters isn’t great. It’s downright bad early on, but the story he is telling, and the ideas he introduces, are interesting enough to carry the clunky phrases and awkward sentences. So, though I contemplated stopping my read in the first few chapters, I didn’t. It’s obvious that Startide Rising had better writing, and I thought that writing was not great—but hey, this is his first novel, so it’s understandable that he gets better with practice. Good for him, not good for this book.

Second, the main character is a superman, and the rest are caricatures. Boring. I find that the journey the main character goes through to get over the trauma of losing his wife starts to hint at Brin’s later skill at character creation. But it’s not good enough here.

Third, the split in what this novel wants to be is awkward. It’s part galactic level politics and part murder mystery, both played out in a setting of a solar system research project. But the parts are too separate. After the reveal of Billibub’s crimes, the novel struggles to find its footing again. I looked down at what sounded like the end of the novel, saw that a quarter of the novel remained to be read, and wondered what in the world Brin would put in there. Then I felt that the continuation of the story of the solar ghosts was a bit of a let down after the action and whodunnit of the middle part of the novel. Of course, the murder mystery eventually returns as Brin’s detective got some things wrong, but the novel is still oddly paced. One quarter is about the ghosts, then half is about the murder and detective work, then the last quarter is largely about the ghosts, with a couple of chapters to resolve the murder mystery. This didn’t really hold together for me. It took some effort to get to the end.

In closing, on display here are some interesting ideas, but this book is only for fans of the universe, it seems. It’s a bad book. The pacing is inconsistent and offputting. The writing is painful at points. Plot elements are hamfisted. Yet the story shines in reflection, the pacing just got in its way. And Brin’s later ability to build good characters is almost on display here, but not quite. There is one engaging character thread, but things are not consistent enough to make me enthusiastic. The ideas and world building carry these negatives, for me. But in all, I wouldn’t recommend this book to somebody who does not like The Uplift War.