#the one time Murderbot isn’t the deus ex machina

[riseandfallofsecunit]

As chunks of stone hit the floor, Three leapt back to me and grabbed me around the waist.

It said, “Please hold on. I will—”

“I know!” I yelled and grabbed it around the shoulders. “Just go!”

It bounced up the stairs, two levels, three levels. (Being carried like this was really uncomfortable, I can see why the humans don’t like it.)

[rruhlreviews]

Book Review - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is about the answer to life, the universe, and everything—yet it’s also about nothing. The earth isn’t saved at the end; in fact, no one really makes an effort to save it. There is no immediately discernible plot structure. More or less, it’s around 190 pages of describing this unique setting and its inhabitants, which is something I’ve always heard contemporary speculative fiction writers warned against: “do you have a plot or do you just have a worldbuilding bible?” The goal of every character is summarized by the cover of the Hitchhiker’s Guide: DON’T PANIC. No character has particularly strong motivation to do anything but survive and explore. So why has The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy endured as a blockbuster? The book is quotable, clever, and at its core is satirical yet heartfelt, which makes it still relevant over forty-two years later.

Without Adams’ writing style, The Hitchhiker’s Guide would not have worked. It’s witty, romping, and never loses the reader despite using complicated conlang terms and having a somewhat meandering plot. Each word, even word repetitions and one-word questions, is chosen with purpose. Beautiful prose describing binary star sunrises is juxtaposed against alien poetry so bad it kills you. Omniscient point of view made it feel like my brain was being bounced through hyperspace at times, yet all the seemingly unrelated paragraphs and guide entries came together at the end. Deus ex Machina can be a sloppy literary device in other cases, but it is quite literally the entire plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide, with the characters being improbably saved again and again. Suspense was generated not through fear for the characters’ survival—at one point, the reader is even told that no one will be hurt except “a bowl of petunias and an innocent sperm whale” (109). Suspense comes from having zero clue what’s going to be on the next page. It's delightful. This chaotic structure is proof that any high concept can be pulled off by a skilled author. The concept isn’t a man who isn’t seeking to save his world, find himself, defeat the President of the Galaxy, or even find love with the one other earthling left. It’s about a man who really just wants a good cup of tea—seeking normalcy in a topsy-turvy world of uncontrollable forces.  

Science fiction and social commentary have been inherently linked since Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein questioned where the limits of science should be. I would argue science fiction is also closely intertwined with horror. Bradbury and Serling in the mid 20th century explored radiation fears, technology, and the Red Scare, amongst other things. 21st century sci-fi like Murderbot and Ready Player One criticize unfettered capitalism. Here, in The Hitchhiker’s Guide from 1979, we have a galaxy of civilizations who have achieved escape velocity but have not escaped bureaucracy. The undercurrent of the narrative is a fear that we and our stubbornness and politics will be our own undoing. The entire earth is destroyed within the first few pages of the book—but the reader feels safe in knowing this is more of a comedy than horror, because of the absurdity of the Vogon fleet using the exact same language as the council destroying Arthur’s house. The incompetent politician was chosen specifically for his incompetence. The scene towards the end with the “progressive cops” was hilarious in that painful way of knowing it’s just as relevant in 2024 as it was then. What if the earth was created as part of a computer program? The beings who created the program would still be scrambling to cobble together an embellished story that sounded good for the news and made them lots of money. “If there’s any real truth, it’s that the entire multidimensional infinity of the Universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs.” (179) This observation is not a cold comfort. The theme is not the vast uncaringness of the void. Acknowledging this madness we all live in is what makes the story sincere and heartfelt. Despite the tone, never once does it stop taking itself seriously, or stop being hopeful. Who would bear the whips and scorns of time? Someone who knows where their towel is.

I saw the movie almost ten years ago, after which I purchased a copy of the book but never got around to reading it. I was delighted to pick it up and enter this interstellar world which is so different, yet not different at all from the problems and idiosyncrasies of Earthlings. As below, so above. None of the characters are larger than life or even have strong goals, but that's the idea of the book: no one is important in a vast and improbable galaxy, and so everyone is important. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is timeless. As long as there is civilization, it will be plagued by the absurdities that populate the book.

As this review comes to an end, I can think of no better closing line. “So long and thanks for all the fish.”

Version referenced:

Adams, Douglas. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. 1979. Del Rey, 2009.