When I first started reading the Three-Body Problem, I had high expectations. The science fiction trilogy, known formerly as Remembrance of Earth’s Past, had been described as a seminal and poignant piece on the human condition. One that was being adapted to Netflix, no less (though by the time I eventually got to it, the Netflix series was already out). And, on paper, it ticked many of my boxes when it came to something I would want to read. More importantly, I wanted to see how the many disparate threads planted in the blurb would all come together. What with the video game element, the existence of extraterrestrial life hidden among the stars, and the Cultural Revolution.
Though it took me a little by surprise at how abrupt it was, I enjoyed reading about Ye Wenjie’s past as she grew up during a difficult period in China’s history. As someone born to Chinese immigrants, I had heard stories about how my family navigated those times. From the limited food rations, the biting cold of northwest China…
But I’d never quite understood, on an intellectual level, the utter devastation of those years. It wasn’t until I picked up Frank Dikotter’s The Tragedy of Liberation and Mao’s Great Famine that I was able to actually gain a proper appreciation of the China my parents lived through. After all, it all seemed so far away when my own life was filled with plenty. Sure, there were still concerns about kidnappings and racist attacks but I’d never had to worry about stripping the bark off trees just to feed my belly.
Poverty, on such a national scale, is still a far cry worse from the current cost-of-living crisis we face now. That said, the struggles many face now cannot be so easily dismissed. Wage stagnation and the inflation of the prices for common everyday items means many families have had to go without.
Armed with this foreknowledge of what people had to go through during Ye Wenjie’s childhood, I was quite sympathetic to the character. Especially when her father was killed before her and the family was torn apart by the need to comply with the dictates of an authoritarian leader.
Was it any wonder she lost faith in humanity and sold us out to the Trisolarians? And as a student of history, and a self-described misanthrope, I will readily admit humans are the biggest obstacle to solving many of the world’s problems. If we ever want the world to be a better place, it, honestly, might just be better to eradicate us all.
Humans suck. What more is there to say?
Just look at the current state of the world if you think I’m talking out of my arse.
The only times humans ever band together over a common cause is when disaster strikes. See 9/11 or the Los Angeles Fires.
Of course, there will still be those out for themselves. It’s human nature, after all, to covet what others have and take it for ourselves.
And so it was with the Three-Body Problem.
While most of the first book saw humanity try to uncover the plot behind the Earth-Trisolaris Organisation (ETO), which was dedicated to helping Trisolarians invade Earth and destroy human civilisation, the next two books of the trilogy were an examination of how humanity might deal with the threat of its very destruction at the hands of aliens. Strong premises which should have been interesting to explore…and yet I was let down by much of the plot and the characters.
It should be noted the Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy was originally written in Chinese. As such, the books I read were actually the English translations. But for all the novel concepts being explored, I couldn’t help but feel like some of the work could have been edited down. Of note were the second and last book.
While I understand Liu Cixin wanted to paint the bleak nature of what humanity faced, there were many moments that could have been described in a sentence or two – or wholly cut out entirely. For example, almost all of Luo Ji’s interaction with his imaginary ‘perfect’ woman. Or even Wang Miao’s exploration of the Three Body video game. Did we really need to see him witness all the cycles of Trisolaris society being consumed before finally coming to the conclusion the world was tangling with three celestial bodies? I mean, the title of the book is The Three-Body Problem.
Then, of course, there’s my entire issue with the third book as a passive bystander. Was there truly a need to see humanity descend into barbarism when the Trisolarians decided to herd them all to Australia? I goddamn live in Australia. And having Cheng Xin’s entire perception of the country I live in be boiled down to Baz Luhrman’s Australia film felt…well, the less said, the better.
Or spend so long on the evolution of society that it was acceptable for men to adopt incredibly feminine appearances during times of peace? Before changing once more to their militaristic ‘masculine’ counterparts following the possibility of a Dark Forest strike?
One of my current sticking points when it comes to identity politics is the concept that good times breed ‘weak’ men and how hard times create ‘strong’ men. With the idea of ‘weak’ men being long-haired fem-boys and ‘strong’ men being roided out dude bros all clamouring to be the alpha. When, in all actuality, a demonstration of strength means rising above traditional ideologies of what constitutes masculinity and learning to be empathetic.
Not to mention the chapters dedicated to Yun Tianming’s fairytales, the adventures with 4D space…
The list goes on.
Plot aside, my other main issue were the characters. Both Wang Miao and Luo Ji had an obsession with the women in their lives bordering on unhealthy. Their entire character arcs and motivations were centred on the women they liked. Luo Ji, especially, came off as a patronising socially inept incel.
Of course, some of that could be attributed to Chinese culture or the imperfections of the translations but even when it came to Cheng Xin (the only female protagonist), her entire role was boiled down to what Yun Tianming (a man) bequeathed her with, using the money he had obtained. And she, smitten by the fact he had bought her the rights to a distant star, carried a torch for him until the very end of the book.
In my opinion, it would have been better if Cheng Xin was never gender-swapped to be a woman. In fact, I would have preferred a torrid gay love affair between a male Cheng Xin and Yun Tianming. And, instead, they should have gender swapped Thomas Wade (the psychopathic anti-hero who actually helped save humanity because they could make the hard decisions Cheng Xin could not).
If I’m being truly honest, the only character I liked in Death’s End was 艾AA. Now, she was a woman who would have served as a better protagonist to hapless and indecisive Cheng Xin (who basically slept through most of the book, woke up, made a terrible decision that essentially doomed the human race before someone else came to fix her problem before repeating the cycle all over again). Much like Thomas Wade, 艾AA, was able to make hard decisions. Yet she was also affable and friendly, helping Cheng Xin along before the entire solar system was sucked into the second dimension.
I suppose my main issue is how the characters never felt like characters but simply vessels to drive the story forward. There is no real autonomy afforded to them. They are simply there to fill a hole as required by the plot Liu Cixin wished to write. Or perhaps to explore a concept he wanted to drive home.
Overall, Remembrance of Earth’s Past provides an intriguing take of what it means to reach out across the universe and make contact with another intelligent civilisation, even when it falters to the overarching plot and the characters. It is certainly something worth pondering over and if we, as humans, face a Dark Forest of our very own.
Of course, other films of first contact have pointed to possible positive relations to extraterrestrials.
I, for one, believe curiosity may stay the hand of any who may pay us a visit. But I also understand the underlying fear of what it might mean to stumble upon an aggressor in the dark depths of space. After all, why take the risk of being conquered and having one’s home taken? It’s not like that’s happened in the history of humanity…right? *cough colonialisation cough*
So, perhaps it is easier to eliminate all possible threats to the continuation of our race than face extinction.
Food for thought, dear reader. Food for thought.