Inverted World

My Norwegian friend, who is studying to become a philosophy professor, is currently taking a Science Fiction and Philosophy course, and I am intensely jealous. Where was that class when I attended USF? Despite the anti-philosophy taboo trending or perceived to be trending in fiction these days (Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone had to be re-dubbed the Sorcerer’s Stone for American readers), I have long argued that philosophy is not only desirable in science fiction but an integral part of it, which is why I was elated to discover the critically acclaimed novels listed on my friend’s curriculum. But it was the premise of Inverted World (a novel by Christopher Priest) that got me one-click buying on Amazon.

People say truly original ideas do not exist, and I oppose using the term cliche, because originality is entirely subjective, and considering the near-infinite pieces of fiction on the shelf, determining whether something is one-of-a-kind unique is impossible. When it comes to ‘novelty,’ you can only describe things in terms of degrees. So I can say that Flatland by Edwin A. Abbot is a lot more original than your average novel, but I could never prove whether it’s actually unique. Likewise, Inverted World may be about as unique a story as you will find. The premise is simple: there is a city, called “Earth,” built on railroad tracks extending less than a mile fore and aft. A team of workers must continually transport the tracks from front to back so the city can be winched forward. After ten days, the city moves one mile, always north. Otherwise, Earth and all its inhabitants are destroyed. What is it they fear? Aliens? Monsters? Nothing so cliche, but if you really want to know the mind-bending secret:

SPOILER ALERT: the ground is moving everything southward, like a conveyor belt, and the planet they live on isn’t spherical, but a flat parabolic plane, one that extends north and south into infinity. The further south one travels, the flatter the parabola and the world, so that everything: people, plants, mountains, are squashed by the geometry of the plane, somewhat like a black hole, until only subatomic particles remain. 

My copy of Inverted World proves you should never judge a book by its cover. I’d call it Worst Cover Ever, at least compared to traditionally published novels. After finishing the story, my friend and I still can’t make heads or tails of the illustration on the front. Inverted World also falls into the This Book Could Never Get Published Today category. The first hundred pages lack any narrative hook, the pacing is slow, the writing is dry and matter-of-fact, and the main character (and only character for the first half) is a nondescript “everyman” devoid of personality, Helward Mann. But while this may sound like reasons not to read the book, everything the author does works brilliantly within the grand scope of the novel. The main character is a blank slate to allow the reader to transpose himself into this nearly inexplicable setting; the slow, deliberate pacing reflects the city’s plodding movement; and while the first half is by no means riveting, I nevertheless felt compelled to continue reading it. At one point, I told my friend, “I don’t know why, but even though nothing is happening, I can’t seem to put this book down.” It makes more sense to me upon reflection because Priest’s world continually fascinates, and the Sci-Fi mystery at the heart of Inverted World demands answers. Unlike J.J. Abrams’ Lost, Priest’s answers do more than satisfy; they are as interesting and remarkable as the questions.

When my friend and I sat down to compare notes, our first thought was, “Where was the philosophy?” Like any good work of science fiction, the more meaningful and allegorical aspects are subtle, never overt (and this is what I feel agents have a problem with: overt proselytizing that beat readers over the head). Without going into detail (to do so would spoil the plot), Priest explores the most fundamental of philosophical inquiries, “How do we know what is true?” Reading his book forces you to reexamine your assumptions about the universe and what you think you know. We are told, for instance, that the Earth orbits the Sun, but outside of trusting our scientists, how can we truly know? How many people own a telescope who can test the astronomical principles we are taught in school? Conversely, Inverted World asks, “How do we deal with new evidence when that evidence contradicts our long-held beliefs?” The novel does not deal with religion in any way, but I felt (though my friend did not share my view) one could draw parallels between the events in Inverted World and recent clashes between adherents of evolution and creationism. 

Despite its slow pacing, dry prose, and lackluster protagonist, Inverted World is worth your time, owing to its near-unique premise, fascinating setting, and compelling mystery, not to mention its philosophy, which, in keeping with the theme of the book, offers readers a different perspective. And that is, after all, what good science fiction does best.