SOLARIS
- STANISLAW LEM
Whether it be intentional or a fluke in the translating of the
original text from Polish to English, it's interesting that Solaris
starts with cosmonaut Kelvin being blasted off to rendezvous with the
space station orbiting the planet Solaris by being bid farewell with
the words 'Have a good trip'. As author Stanislaw Lem wrote
Solaris in 1961, the LSD connotation with the word 'trip' wouldn't
have been made (though by 1970 on being first translated, it would).
The connotation is very fitting, however, because Lem's book can
easily be read as a depiction of an acid trip taken whilst reclining on a
psychiatrist's couch.
Solaris is the name of a planet discovered in the outer reaches of
the universe that is an absolute conundrum to mankind. Despite over a
hundred years of extensive studies being made of it, what Solaris
exactly is remains an utter mystery. It's mankind's first encounter
with a seemingly hyper-intelligent alien life-form but actual contact
with it appears impossible.
Lem spends a large chunk of his story describing the planet and the
various interpretations of it made since its discovery, each new
theory negating another but in itself throwing up yet more
unanswerable questions. Essentially, Solaris is a living ocean
seemingly in possession of an intelligence far beyond the
comprehension of man. From its depths it constructs colossal
structures with a logic that cannot be defined by mere mathematics
then destroys those same structures for no apparent reason. It's
rather like a representation of Chaos theory on an immense scale but
then condensed into a single mass, composed of what could be
construed as gooey, liquid fractals. Philosophically, Solaris
represents the problem of the relation between matter and mind, and
between mind and consciousness.
On reaching the space station, Kelvin finds that of the three
cosmonaut scientists inhabiting it, one has committed suicide and two
are on the verge of mental breakdowns. There are also three
'visitors' on the station who have all attached themselves
individually to the scientists. The two scientists left alive keep
themselves pretty much locked away in their rooms so Kelvin doesn't
actually get to see who they are with (though one might be some kind
of dwarf?) but as for the scientist who has killed himself, his
'visitor' - a giant, half naked Negress - is seen walking silently
along the station's corridors and also laid out asleep next to his
dead body in the cold storage unit.
Before too long Kelvin also has a 'visitor' - his wife. The problem
being that his wife is dead, having killed herself after a row with
Kelvin back on Earth, an incident that he's always blamed himself
for.
Solaris has manifested the most deepest, painful secrets from the
memories of the scientists and made them flesh though for what reason
cannot be fathomed. Is it a game being played? A form of weaponry? A
gift? An attempt at communication? The fact that there are no answers
serves to underscore the impossibility of communicating in any way
with the planet. All that Kelvin and his fellow cosmonauts are left
with are aspects of their subconscious selves in the form of the
living, breathing manifestations.
The 'visitors' can neither be destroyed nor ejected from the station
out into space, or rather, they can but only to return again the next
day. Kelvin's 'wife' feels that something is not quite right but
doesn't actually realise she's not for real. Which is a rather mute point
because she and the other 'manifestations' to all intent and purpose
are very real indeed. They're possessed with emotions the same as
anyone and though flesh wounds heal almost instantly, they bleed and
they feel pain. They also cannot be separated from their hosts and if
need be will tear through steel doors to be with them. For the
cosmonauts, there is no escape from them. In the case of the other
cosmonauts and their own personal visitors this is a problem of
nightmarish proportions suggesting their visitors are their personal
demons. In the case of Kelvin's visitor it is also a problem but of a
very different sort because Kelvin loves/loved his wife and his wife
loves/loved him.
Solaris, then, is a mirror and what it is reflecting is the
cosmonauts own inner selves. The exploration of space and the
discovery of other life has simply led man back to himself. The
desire to understand and communicate with Solaris is ultimately a
desire (whether consciously acknowledged or not) to understand and
communicate with the self. But if as Lem tells us, actual
communication and understanding isn't possible (and in this day and
age of the Internet - as in 2016 - where communication and the
sharing of information has never been easier, it's an extremely
pertinent point) then what next? Where might an answer lay?
For the cosmonauts in Lem's book, for one of them suicide is an
answer - though it offers no actual release from his personal demon as (in
the form of the giant Negress) it simply lays down alongside his body. For another, the answer is in drunkenness and oblivion - though
again, offering no actual release. For another, the fervent throwing of oneself into work is the key - though still no release.
As for Kelvin, the answer is in reconciliation with both Solaris and
- at the same time - himself, but equally it's in the reconciliation
with love.
Needless to say, Stanislaw Lem's Solaris is brilliant.
As we all know, Solaris was turned into a film in 1972 by Russian
director Andrei Tarkovsky and again in 2002 by Steven Soderbergh
starring George Clooney as Kelvin. Whilst Soderbergh's film (for a
Hollywood re-make) is actually very good it is as nothing compared to
Tarkovsky's version which is a poetic masterpiece and in my opinion
one of the greatest films ever made.
John Serpico
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