“Love in the New Millennium” by Can Xue (translated by Annelise Finegan Wasmoen).

This is a strange novel. “The place doesn’t feel solid, it’s like you—like you’re in a land of illusion!” The plot is filled with sex, murder, intrigue, and busybodies spying on other people’s lives. ““I have something to tell you. Wei Bo and I sleep together every night,” said the ghost of the man dead for many years.” It deals with contemporary China through the shield of allusion. There is an air of mystery in every word. “Your not understanding is understanding.” One is disoriented and doesn’t quite know where it is going next. It is a hard book to read. There is a sense that every word is essential. “Living in the caves would be so much better. You close to me, me close to you, listening to the sounds coming from the earth’s core. People grow discontent, they flatten mountains into the ground and run madly all over like weasels.”

The novel’s story mixes fantasy and reality into an odd tale that doesn’t quite make sense, but doesn’t ever seem too weird either. “His aunt sat in a corner drinking water from a jade brush pot, saying to him, “This is called ‘drinking ink.’ This is education.”” There are allegories wrapped within allegories. Clues are left on every page. “Here you plant things, but don’t hold out hope, it’s no use. You toss them into the soil and forget as soon as possible. We all do this. I used to think that seeds would grow into the plants they were harvested from, but it’s not that way at all. You can wait and see.” Nothing is at all obvious. ““All of the discussions use a method of allusion,” Little Green answered with utter seriousness. “We talk about the weather, about playing chess, about matters of national importance, when in fact our topic is the Gobi Desert. Teacher, do you understand?”” Lush dream sequences pull you in, before being jolted quickly back into whatever reality there is. “A Si pointed with her chopsticks at the salmon’s bones inside the large soup tureen. They saw its skeleton eaten bare of flesh moving around in the soup. It swam in three circles, then paused at the bottom of the tureen and remained still. The three women looked at each other in shock.” The reader is never on sure ground and is forced to struggle for the underlying truth. “Her songs aren’t about our past life, or about the emotional life of people today, but instead about the life we have never even imagined.”

“Death’s End” by Cixin Liu (translated by Ken Liu)

This is the final novel in Liu’s “Remembrance of Earth’s Past” trilogy. Clocking in at over six hundred pages alone, this book brings the trilogy’s total page count to well over fifteen hundred. This story circles back on many of the philosophical themes of the previous books, with a continued emphasis on physics, cosmology, free will, and the nature of language. “If, as soon as you were born, you were locked inside a small box, you wouldn’t care because that was all you’ve known. But once you’ve been let out and they try to put you back in, it feels completely different.” Liu’s story also compels the reader ask what it truly means to be human. “Life reached an evolutionary milestone when it climbed onto land from the ocean, but those first fish that climbed onto land ceased to be fish. Similarly, when humans truly enter space and are free from the Earth, they cease to be human.” This novel’s time scale is also even more epic, with over eighteen million years elapsing during the course of the story. “The known universe is about sixteen billion light-years across, and it’s still expanding. But the speed of light is only three hundred thousand kilometers per second, a snail’s pace. This means that light can never go from one end of the universe to the other. Since nothing can move faster than the speed of light, it follows that no information and motive force can go from one end of the universe to the other. If the universe were a person, his neural signals couldn’t cover his entire body; his brain would not know of the existence of his limbs, and his limbs would not know of the existence of the brain.” However, as in his past novels, this story also remains rooted in the specific lives of a few core characters, who are able to transcend time and keep the reader rooted in humanity’s journey. “This wasn’t a decision born of thought, but buried deep in her genes. These genes could be traced to four billion years ago, when the decision was first made. The subsequent billions of years only strengthened it. Right or wrong, she knew she had no other choice.” This is a novel that makes one deeply ponder the meaning of humanity, the meaning of the universe, and the meaning of time, as well as the meaning of an individual life. “The child that was human civilization had opened the door to her home and glanced outside. The endless night terrified her so much that she shuddered against the expansive and profound darkness.”

“A Hero of Our Time” by Mikhail Lermontov

This is a strange novel that begins disguised as a travelogue. It is considered the first in the Russian psychological style and is said to have been admired by Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and Turgenev. Lermontov was also an accomplished poet, painter, and soldier. He was exiled twice, spending time stuck in regiments in the Caucasus, from which the plot of this novel is largely based. In the nineteenth century the Caucasus were even wilder than today and Lermontov spent time studying the languages and folklore of the simple peasants. This novel begins recounting the travails of two strangers stuck together traveling the high mountain passes of Ossetia during a blizzard. However, the tales quickly move backwards as one begins to recount stories of his time stationed in a fort near Georgia. He tells of the native peoples, of a dashing aristocratic companion named Pechorin who steals a local Princess for a bride, and her eventual death at the hand of a local rogue.  After more adventures, the narrator comes into possession of a travel diary written by the same aristocratic adventurer, Pechorin. The tales written within border between gallant, weird, and romantic. Pechorin becomes embroiled in a smuggling ring from the Crimea, witnesses a murder of an officer by a Cossack, and finally takes in the spring waters in a picturesque mountain town. There he embarks in a flirtatious affair that ends in heartbreak for many and death for a few. All the tales involved convey the personality of a dandy, at once romantic and melancholy, as he searches for his true life’s purpose amidst the banality of his fellow man.

“The Dark Forest” by Cixin Liu (translated by Joel Martinsen)

Liu’s science fiction trilogy succeeds in combining realistic contemporary physics, plausible futuristic extrapolations, historical eastern philosophy, and cultural sociology all within a grippingly mysterious narrative. This novel continues the story of “The Three Body Problem”, but most of the main characters are new, even as humanity’s existential threat remains. Ye Wenjie reappears in the opening pages of the novel, coining a new field in the social sciences, and setting the table for the rest of the plot, in her usual enigmatic fashion. “Suppose a vast number of civilizations are distributed throughout the universe, on the order of detectable stars. Lots and lots of them. Those civilizations make up the body of a cosmic society. Cosmic sociology is the study of the nature of this super-society…. Setup a few simple axioms at first, then derive an overall theoretic system using those axioms as a foundation…. First: Survival is the primary need of civilization. Second: Civilization continuously grows and expands, but the total matter in the universe remains constant…. To derive a basic picture of cosmic sociology from these two axioms, you need two other important concepts: chains of suspicion and the technological explosion.” One constant in Liu’s novels is the reminder that humanity is still extremely young in the timespan of the universe. “The outcome of natural biological evolution requires at least twenty thousand years to manifest itself, but human civilization has just five thousand years of history, and modern technological civilization just two hundred. That means that the study of modern science today is being done by the brain of primitive man.” The novel’s protagonist, Luo Ji, warns, “Everything has an ending. The sun and the universe will die one day, so why should humanity believe that it ought to be immortal?”

“Does Altruism Exist?” by David Sloan Wilson

Wilson is a professor of biology and anthropology, who specializes in evolution, both genetic and cultural. His theory can be summed up as, “selfishness beats altruism within groups. Altruistic groups beat selfish groups.” The key tension is between intra-group selection and inter-group selection. There is a constant friction between the individual and the larger group. “Behaving for the good of the group typically does not maximize relative fitness within the group.” And for evolution everything is relative. “Natural selection is based on relative fitness. It doesn’t matter how well an organism survives and reproduces, only that it does so better than other organisms in the evolving population.” And humans have evolved to a degree that has not been reached by any other animal on the planet, not even fellow primates. Therefore, for humans the group has often become the unit of selection. “We crossed the threshold from groups of organisms to groups as organisms…. The kind of social control that suppresses destructive within-group competition but permits and often cultivates group-beneficial forms of within-group competition is part of what the concept of major evolutionary transitions is all about.”

Humans adapted a whole suite of behaviors from cooperation between genetically unrelated individuals, distinctive cognition, symbolic thoughts, including language, and the ability to transmit and pass on culture in a relatively short amount of time, evolutionarily speaking. This inter-generational learning through cultural evolution is what has separated humanity from other primates. It has allowed humans, as a species, to build on past knowledge, so that the whole has retained more knowledge than is possible for any one individual over the course of one lifetime. “Regardless of whether a phenotypic trait is genetically inherited, learned, or culturally derived, it can spread by virtue of benefitting individuals compared to other individuals in the same group, by benefitting all individuals in a group compared to other groups, and so on for a multilevel hierarchy of groups.” The important aspect of altruism, particularly, is that it is the actions of individuals that matter and not their thought processes. Altruism is defined as traits that help at the group level rather than the individual, regardless of motive. “Proximate mechanisms need not resemble functional consequences in any way whatever.” As inter-group selection has evolved to dominate intra-group competition in humans, altruism has become a mechanism that leads to selection that favors groups that have been selfless in action, regardless of the reasoning behind it.

“The Three-Body Problem” by Cixin Liu (translated by Ken Liu)

This is “hard” science fiction at its best. It is an epic novel that combines the best of realistic science, actual Chinese history, and world-leaping fantasy. Over the course of the story, realistic nuclear physics, computer science, virtual reality, and extra-terrestrial communications are all seamlessly woven into a compelling narrative. Space and time hop back and forth. The story begins in the depths of the Cultural Revolution, when Chinese intellectuals were being rehabilitated, punished, or worse. “But burning was their fate; they were the generation meant to be consumed by fire.” The story soon shifts to forty years later and to physicists on the frontier of contemporary science. “Theory is the foundation of application. Isn’t discovering fundamental laws the biggest contribution to our time?” But there were also humans opposed to this scientific progress. “He believed that technological progress was a disease in human society. The explosive development of technology was analogous to the growth of cancer cells, and the results would be identical: the exhaustion of all sources of nourishment, the destruction of organs, and the final death of the host body.” On Earth, scientists start dying under mysterious circumstances. A secret society (or two) is revealed. Superpowers collaborate. There is also much philosophy interspersed with the hard science. “The more transparent something was, the more mysterious it seemed. The universe itself was transparent; as long as you were sufficiently sharp-eyed, you could see as far as you liked. But the farther you looked, the more mysterious it became.” As the mystery of this novel unfolds, the story envelops you even as the technical details of the science impresses.

“The Story of the Stone Volume I- The Golden Days (The Dream of the Red Chamber)” by Cao Xueqin (translated by David Hawkes)

Cao Xueqin lived in Nanking in the 18th century. The Cao family had been wealthy, holding the office of Commissioner of Imperial Textiles, but by the time Cao Xueqin began this epic his family had fallen out of imperial favor and he was living in poverty near Peking. “My only wish is that men in the world below may sometimes pick up this tale when they are recovering from sleep or drunkenness, or when they wish to escape from business worries or a fit of the dumps, and in doing so find not only mental refreshment but even perhaps, if they heed its lesson and abandon their vain and frivolous pursuits, some small arrest in the deterioration of their vital forces.” Similarly, the novel tells the story of a grand family, the Jias, and their triumphs and travails over the generations. ““The extreme of adversity is the beginning of prosperity” — and the reverse of that saying is also true. Honour and disgrace follow each other in an unending cycle. No human power can arrest that cycle and hold it permanently in one position. What you can do, however, is to plan while we are still prosperous for the kind of heritage that will stand up to the hard times when they come.” The story mixes an authentic realism of everyday Chinese upperclass life in imperial China with elements of fantasy, such as talking stones, magical monks, and witchcraft. “This object comes from the Hall of Emptiness in the Land of Illusion. It was fashioned by the fairy Disenchantment as an antidote to the ill effects of impure mental activity. It has life-giving and restorative properties and has been brought into the world for the contemplation of those intelligent and handsome young gentlemen whose hearts are too susceptible to the charms of beauty."

Cao Xueqin’s first volume follows Bao-yu in his adolescence, the grandson and favorite of the Jia family matriarch, and a boy born with a mysterious jade stone stuck in his mouth. “When they celebrated the First Twelve-month and Sir Zheng tested his disposition by putting a lot of objects in front of him and seeing which he would take hold of, he stretched out his little hand and started playing with some women’s things — combs, bracelets, pots of rouge and powder and the like.” The story also meanders through a huge cast of characters, from minor relatives, to a bevy of servants and hangers-on. “Though I am so much richer and more nobly born than he, what use are my fine clothes but to cover up the dead and rotten wood beneath? What use the luxuries I eat and drink but to fill the cesspit and swell the stinking sewer of my inside? O rank and riches! How you poison everything!” The plot contains poetry, epigrams, song lyrics, riddles, calligraphy, priceless heirlooms, love intrigues, premature deaths, backstabbing family members, and plenty of family feasts. “Truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true; Real becomes not-real when the unreal’s real.”

“Covenant and Conversation: Leviticus: The Book of Holiness” by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

This is the third book in Sacks’ series of commentaries on the Hebrew Bible. Sacks, in the past, has made much of the mirror imaging of scripture, so, as the middle book in the Torah, Sacks sees Leviticus, or as he calls it Vayikra, as the pinnacle in the ABCBA format of the Bible. Sacks describes Vayikra as the book dedicated to the priesthood. Unlike the kingly and prophetic traditions, Sacks sees priesthood as representing the eternal, the seasonal, the reoccurring, and the constant. The role of the priest is to be a returning reminder of the obligations of the original Covenant. Vayikra has relatively little action, taking place in only one month, and all of that stationary, near Mount Sinai. The word Vayikra, itself, means “to call, beckon, or summon in love.” Sacks sees this as an entreaty by God, rather than as a command. It starts the willing relationship between one another, which will include holy sacrifice and the Sabbath. Vayikra moves beyond the role ascribed to the priesthood to all the Jewish peoples with the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans. No longer were the Jews to have a single sanctuary, priestly rites, and animal sacrifice. The destruction of these formal rituals of a peoples could have led to their eventual demoralization and disintegration. Instead, the Jews turned tragedy into a blessing- a democratization of the holy: with every person transforming into the roles and obligations of the priesthood, with the sanctuary replaced by synagogues wherever Jews may live, and with the Torah being the civil law uniting the people until the eventual return to political power in the Holy Land. In these essays, Sacks interweaves the spiritual with the moral and political and evokes the freedom and responsibility of personal choice while living in a community of others in covenant with God.

“Stories of Your Life and Others” by Ted Chiang

This is a collection of short science fiction stories. Most are not “traditional” science fiction, as they are not set in the future, but in an alternate past that is very true to actual history, except for one or two fantastical tweaks. Chiang’s most famous story is “Story of Your Life”, which was adapted for the film “Arrival”. The linguistics, physics, and philosophy of time aspects of the story are riveting. Chiang flips back and forth between technical science and a loving narrative between mother and daughter. You get lost in the past, present, and future. It is spellbinding and does not lose its potency after you figure out what is going on. Technical science and math play a role in a lot of Chiang’s stories. “Division by Zero” is about a former math prodigy who discovers a proof that 1=2 and the resulting crisis that that inspires within her. A couple of Chiang’s stories also contain Biblical elements. “Tower of Babylon” is inspired by the Tower of Babel, but as Chiang writes, “the characters may be religious, but they rely on engineering rather than prayer. No deity makes an appearance in the story; everything that happens can be understood in purely mechanistic terms.” In “Hell is the Absence of God”, on the other hand, angels make frequent visitations to Earth, souls can be seen either going up to Heaven or down to Hell after death, and occasionally humans can even see down into Hell, like a glass bottom boat. It makes for a surreal tale set amidst an otherwise present-day America. This is Chiang’s rift on the Book of Job. One of the best features of this collection is that Chiang includes his “Story Notes”, a short paragraph on each story where he explains his thoughts and inspirations. My favorite story was “Understand” about a man awoken from a brain-dead coma, whose neuron synapses are improved by medical injections into his spine. It combines philosophy of mind, technical science, the role of language, the role of culture, philosophy of self, arguments for altruism, and thoughts on the purpose of life in a magical tale. I have not read science fiction in many years, but this book has me researching for similar works in the genre.

“Family Lexicon” by Natalia Ginzburg (translated by Jenny McPhee)

This book, published in 1961, was written by Ginzburg after she had moved from Italy to London, following the Second World War. It is a blend of a memoir and a novel, detailing Ginzburg’s childhood in Turin, her marriage to an anti-fascist conspirator, and her family’s plight as Italian Jews, forced to live in a village in Abruzzi while in internal exile during the war. She states up front, “I haven’t invented a thing…. If read as a history, one will object to the infinite lacunae…. One should read it as if it were a novel, and therefore not demand any more or less than a novel can offer.” The book blends her humor, the intrigues of Italian politics, her family’s playful use of language, and the deeply personal inner-workings of her tight-knit family. There are familial phrases, whose meanings are only known to the members of her clan, that become themes that return to her life as she ages. Describing her father, “For him someone stupid was a “nitwit.”… In addition to the “nitwits,” there were also the “negroes.” For my father, a “negro” was someone who was awkward, clumsy, and faint-hearted; someone who dressed inappropriately, didn’t know how to hike in the mountains, and couldn’t speak foreign languages.” Ginzburg’s mother had her own peculiar sayings too. “Returning to Freiburg after the war, the bookseller [an old family friend] had exclaimed, “I don’t recognize my Germany anymore!” It was a saying that remained famous in our family and every time my mother didn’t recognize someone or something she would repeat it.” As for Ginzburg’s paternal grandmother, ““For you lot everything is a bordello. In this house you make a bordello out of everything,” my grandmother always said, meaning that for us nothing was sacred. The saying became famous in our family and we used to repeat it every time we found ourselves laughing over a death or a funeral.” As for her maternal grandmother, who died before Ginzburg was born, “Because he [her grandfather] always packed the house full of socialists, my grandmother Pina used to say bitterly, in dialect, of their daughter, “That girl’s going to marry the gasman.”” Ginzburg’s father ended up being a biologist, however.

Growing up under the rule of Mussolini, politics pervaded the life of the Ginzburg family. They were all committed anti-fascists, with Ginzburg’s future husband, father, and male siblings all having been arrested or going into exile. “At the time, my father didn’t really have a well-defined opinion about the communists. He didn’t believe there were any conspirators in the new, younger generation, and if he had suspected that there were, he would have thought them crazy. In his opinion, there was nothing, absolutely nothing to be done about fascism…. My mother went out in the morning saying, “I’m going to see if fascism is still on its feet. I am going to see if they’ve toppled Mussolini.”” Of Ginzburg’s own husband, “Leone was arrested now and again. They arrested him as a precautionary measure every time some notable politician or the king visited Turin. They kept him in jail for three or four days, letting him go as soon as the political figure had left.” Leone was eventually captured in Rome, operating an illegal printing press, and killed by the Nazis towards the end of the war. All that Ginzburg writes about this incident is “Leone had died in prison, in the German section of the Regina Coeli prison one icy February in Rome during the German occupation.” She recounts their friend Pavese as saying, “When someone goes away, or dies, I try not to think about him because I don’t like to suffer.” After the war, people once again had to adjust to their new lives and transform into their new selves. “The postwar period was a time when everyone believed himself to be a poet and a politician…. In one way or another, everyone felt deceived and betrayed, both those who lived in reality and those who possessed or thought they possessed a means of describing it.”