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A review by nhborg
The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler
4.0
4.25
You can trust that I’ll pick up any piece of speculative eco-fiction featuring conscious octopuses. I’m guessing that the list is quite short at the moment, but I’m ready whenever.
When I first heard of this, I was almost breathless of excitement and ran to the store within a couple of days to get a copy and start reading. Today I finally finished it, but I’m having such a hard time gathering all my thoughts! One thing’s for sure: this book will give you a lot to chew on.
Throughout the read, it basically felt like this book was made for me, especially due to the several references to real biological concepts and logics that were clearly taken from scientific articles or other works from the field. In that way, the speculative aspect felt reinforced, because although it wasn’t always as «realistic»/probable, it spoke in the language I’m used to from e.g. my courses about animal behavior, neuroscience and evolutionary biology and was a good shot at making sensible hypotheses based on what we already know about the world. I think this is really cool! I imagine it’s still understandable for people not studying biology, but maybe it feels like an extra treat if you do.
Also, octopuses. I’m so happy they’re getting the recognition they deserve, they are high up on the list of extraordinary wonders-of-the-natural-world. I found myself thinking about the non-fiction work «Other minds» by Peter Godfrey-Smith (it’s great btw), and it was therefore fun to see it mentioned as an essential piece of inspiration in the acknowledgements!
There were so many deep, interlaced thematics in this book that it’s very difficult to discuss in a structured manner. Imagine Arrival x Frankenstein x Blade Runner, with both next-generation AI and the octopus as subjects for discussion about existentialism and consciousness, language and communication, human dominion, xenophobia and ecosystem collapse. And if that wasn’t enough, throw in some explorations of the vulnerability of two-person relationships, the danger of apathy and indifference, and basically the individual human’s and the entire humanity’s struggle to give trust and allow foreign forces into their lives, in fear of losing control. What’s the key to avoid feeling trapped? Empathy or authority? I mean… There’s just a goldmine of discussion prompts between these pages.
In other words, I love the thematics of this book and how confronting it is on so many levels. However, the reading experience in itself wasn’t always as easily immersive as I’d wished it would be. First of all, I’m not a huge fan of the language. I adore the vocabulary and imagery (especially the descriptions of nature-dominated sceneries), but I don’t like how each sentence feels heavy as a brick. Secondly, the plot and characters were not always the most engaging. In retrospect though, I can forgive the latter point. The book feels dreamlike rather than realistic, and I think this is perfect for this concept. Therefore I’m okay with not feeling for the characters for every step of the way, since I can still appreciate the grand ideas and scenes presented in between the page-to-page events.
I can already feel that «The Mountain in the Sea» is highly deserving of a reread (or several). This review became super rambly and maybe more adapted for my eyes than the rest of the world’s, but if you reached all the way here, thanks for being interested in what my overboiled brain is trying to say!
Lastly, a quote I found myself personally relating to:
«One of the great tragedies of science is that the increase in its complexity has made most scientists into little more than technicians, driving them into the tunnels of specialized disciplines. The further the scientist progressed down into the mind of knowledge, the less she can see the world into which that knowledge fits.
I never wanted to be a specialist: I wanted to be a scientist in the heroic sense, bringing new forms into the world. From the first moment, I have wanted greatness.»
«Greatness» is a kind of cringe way to put it, but don’t we want to help save the world somehow? I think a lot of the answers can lie in the borders and compromises between disciplines, between species and between extremities.
You can trust that I’ll pick up any piece of speculative eco-fiction featuring conscious octopuses. I’m guessing that the list is quite short at the moment, but I’m ready whenever.
When I first heard of this, I was almost breathless of excitement and ran to the store within a couple of days to get a copy and start reading. Today I finally finished it, but I’m having such a hard time gathering all my thoughts! One thing’s for sure: this book will give you a lot to chew on.
Throughout the read, it basically felt like this book was made for me, especially due to the several references to real biological concepts and logics that were clearly taken from scientific articles or other works from the field. In that way, the speculative aspect felt reinforced, because although it wasn’t always as «realistic»/probable, it spoke in the language I’m used to from e.g. my courses about animal behavior, neuroscience and evolutionary biology and was a good shot at making sensible hypotheses based on what we already know about the world. I think this is really cool! I imagine it’s still understandable for people not studying biology, but maybe it feels like an extra treat if you do.
Also, octopuses. I’m so happy they’re getting the recognition they deserve, they are high up on the list of extraordinary wonders-of-the-natural-world. I found myself thinking about the non-fiction work «Other minds» by Peter Godfrey-Smith (it’s great btw), and it was therefore fun to see it mentioned as an essential piece of inspiration in the acknowledgements!
There were so many deep, interlaced thematics in this book that it’s very difficult to discuss in a structured manner. Imagine Arrival x Frankenstein x Blade Runner, with both next-generation AI and the octopus as subjects for discussion about existentialism and consciousness, language and communication, human dominion, xenophobia and ecosystem collapse. And if that wasn’t enough, throw in some explorations of the vulnerability of two-person relationships, the danger of apathy and indifference, and basically the individual human’s and the entire humanity’s struggle to give trust and allow foreign forces into their lives, in fear of losing control. What’s the key to avoid feeling trapped? Empathy or authority? I mean… There’s just a goldmine of discussion prompts between these pages.
In other words, I love the thematics of this book and how confronting it is on so many levels. However, the reading experience in itself wasn’t always as easily immersive as I’d wished it would be. First of all, I’m not a huge fan of the language. I adore the vocabulary and imagery (especially the descriptions of nature-dominated sceneries), but I don’t like how each sentence feels heavy as a brick. Secondly, the plot and characters were not always the most engaging. In retrospect though, I can forgive the latter point. The book feels dreamlike rather than realistic, and I think this is perfect for this concept. Therefore I’m okay with not feeling for the characters for every step of the way, since I can still appreciate the grand ideas and scenes presented in between the page-to-page events.
I can already feel that «The Mountain in the Sea» is highly deserving of a reread (or several). This review became super rambly and maybe more adapted for my eyes than the rest of the world’s, but if you reached all the way here, thanks for being interested in what my overboiled brain is trying to say!
Lastly, a quote I found myself personally relating to:
«One of the great tragedies of science is that the increase in its complexity has made most scientists into little more than technicians, driving them into the tunnels of specialized disciplines. The further the scientist progressed down into the mind of knowledge, the less she can see the world into which that knowledge fits.
I never wanted to be a specialist: I wanted to be a scientist in the heroic sense, bringing new forms into the world. From the first moment, I have wanted greatness.»
«Greatness» is a kind of cringe way to put it, but don’t we want to help save the world somehow? I think a lot of the answers can lie in the borders and compromises between disciplines, between species and between extremities.