Orbital - Samantha Harvey

ORBITAL - SAMANTHA HARVEY

Well, it's a thing of beauty. Who'd have thought? You walk into a second-hand bookshop and there it is: Orbital, by Samantha Harvey. The Booker Prize winner of 2024. It would, of course, be churlish not to buy it because obviously it was meant to be. I mean, what are the odds? It's not just a question of finding a book, however, but more like finding a jewel. An opal. A rare stone. Or of it finding you?

But then no, it's not a jewel. It's not so much a physical object whose value can be put in monetary terms. Rather, it's a thought. A murmur. A consideration. A daydream. A meander. It's that moment when you gaze into space but look at nothing and you're asked 'What are you thinking?' and you reply 'Thinking? I wasn't thinking anything.'

If ever a book deserved to win the Booker Prize it is this one. To describe it as 'a thing of beauty' doesn't even do it justice. The language in these pages is sublime, written by - and could only be written by - a lover of language. There are sentences in these pages that could never be spoken, only written. The imagery is wondrous. The descriptions are breathtaking. The thoughts are heavenly. The ideas human but of the highest calibre.

There is poetry in Samantha Harvey's words. Names of places on earth and the universe alike, tumbling out onto the page over and over, again and again. Like hearing the shipping forecast - Cromarty, Forties, Forth, Dogger, Tyne, Humber - there is comfort and art and wonder. Have you ever tried to describe the world? To find suitable words? Here is how to do it.

Six astronauts are in a spacecraft orbiting the earth, their job being to conduct scientific experiments in regard to life under zero gravity, and to collect meteorological data. They are there for nine months and in that time they observe the earth below rotating endlessly. At the same time, so do their thoughts, dreams and reveries rotate endlessly too.

News of the passing of the mother of one of the astronauts reaches them, subsequently igniting a rumination on the meaning of the word 'mother'. As in mother Earth. They watch as a tornado over the Pacific builds to life-threatening dimensions and in its path is the family in the Philippines that one of the astronauts befriended some years before. There is mention of Michael Collins, the third astronaut who during the moon landing of 1969 remained onboard the command module whilst Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldwin took giant steps for mankind on the moon's surface. It was Collins who took the famous photograph depicting every living person except him. There is mention of Russian cosmonaut Sergei Krikalev, the 'last Soviet citizen' having been aboard the Mir space station during the dissolution of the Soviet Union. And there is so much more. 

What leads to man wishing to venture into space? Why would anyone place themselves into what is essentially a tin can in a vacuum, just four inches of titanium away from death? Why is man trying to live in a place in which he will never thrive? Is the earth not good enough? Is it down to curiosity or ingratitude? Twelve people have walked on the moon, all American men. No other nationality and no women. And yet we're bound and entwined by our common humanity.

Anyone can be a literary critic. I reflect on books I read and put down my thoughts but I never really tend to recommend as I kind of think everyone should find their own books or even have books find them. Orbital, by Samantha Harvey is a gift from its author and is the essence of the happiest surprise on unwrapping it.

John Serpico