The Sparrow

This book has been on my list for a long time, and I'm surprised how long it took me to get around to it, because “Jesuits in space” was a premise that really excited me. What a disappointment.

The novel really started to fall apart for me when I realized that the makeup of the mission was to be a bizarre, effortfully diverse mishmash bordering on caricature. In addition to the protagonist, you have the folksy Texan fighter pilot (“yee haw!”), the demure Quebecois naturalist (“mon dieu”), and the stern lady scientist (“...”). I was eager to forgive the book's hokey setup, assuming that it would be in service of some greater philosophical parable. It wasn't.

While the premise of the book is novel, it merely serves as a veneer for a pretty unoriginal and uninspiring reflection on God and suffering. The existence of sentient, extraterrestrial life poses some really fun and funky theological questions, and Russell leaves every single one of them unasked and unanswered. The aliens have no bearing on the plot; this book could have taken place in Florida.

The portions I enjoyed the most were those taking place in the retreat house after the protagonist has returned to Earth. In these chapters, a friendship is forged between him and some of his fellow Jesuits as he struggles to cope with his trauma and tell his tale. Given the fact that his tale is so unremarkable, however, these sections do little to alleviate the drudgery that is reading The Sparrow.