
For over a decade Kim Stanley Robinson has been one of the leading lights in the sf field: winning fans and critics alike with his perfect blending of both hard and soft science fiction sub-genres (appealing to fans of Greg Bear and Ursula K. Le Guin alike), eco-politics and strong character-focused writing. Although born in Illinois in 1952, KSR has spent much of his life in his beloved California, where he grew up and lives today. The influence and love of the land and history of the state can be felt clearly in his championing of environmental issues, his love of mountaineering and outdoor pursuits, and most significantly it can be felt throughout his work, most obviously in his Three Californias trilogy, and also in his understanding of the importance that setting and past play in storytelling and on human development in general. KSR has degrees in literature and English – and has written one of the more famous doctoral thesis in sf, on The Novels of Philip K. Dick (published in 1984).
The Three Californias trilogy
A loose thematic trilogy written over six years, each book tells the story of a different hypothetical future California: The Wild Shore (1984) is a pastoral post-apocalypse novel, The Golden Coast (1988) is a near-future dystopia and Pacific Edge (1990) is a near-future realistic eco-utopia. The first two parts of the trilogy show two Californias technologically out of balance: The Wild Shore, showing a future USA on its knees by a Soviet nuclear sneak attack, and The Golden Coast shows a hedonistic car and technology obsessed culture, ‘a sprawl of condos, freeways and malls,’ while Pacific Edge attempts to show a non-idealized civilization where technology and the natural world are in harmony. However, neither of the first two parts are perfect. Although The Wild Shore has its share of conflicts: a rise in American nationalism and international isolation, it ultimately paints a relatively idyllic picture of rural life, with little mention of the inevitable societal breakdown, sickness and violence that the survivors of a nuclear holocaust world undoubtedly have to contend with – the end result feeling more like the adventures of Huckleberry Flynn than Mad Max. Still it is a strong début novel: superbly written and showing KSR’s deft ability to depict believable characters that continue to develop throughout the novel. The Golden Coast suffers from being practically indistinguishable from our own society today, although it is this novel that really expresses KSR’s love of California and feels perhaps the most autobiographical. The Pacific Edge is probably the most successful: depicting a realistic utopia of anarcho-collectives, yet like The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin, he shows that even a society in balance would have its share of heartache and disappointments to contend with. Again Pacific Edge shows off KSR’s talent for depicting place and landscape and it is this novel that best foreshadowed the Mars trilogy which was yet to come.

The Mars trilogy
The mammoth Mars trilogy,some 2000 odd pages in total not including the supplementary The Martians companion volume of short stories, tells the future history of Mars from the initial colonists to civil wars to the eventual formation of a Utopian Martian state over a period of two hundred years.
Red Mars (1996): details the landing of the ‘first 100′ colonists, a odd-ball collection of scientists, engineers and misanthropes in their quest to tame the new frontier. Each chapter being from one of the characters perspective. Here KSR hits pure gold. As each chapter pulls the reader’s loyalties from pillar to post as our preconceptions are undermined by deeper and deeper character development. Most noticeably in our perceptions of the rivalry between John Boone, a flaky all American hero: kind of Bill Clinton on steroids, and the charismatic power hungry Frank Chalmers, who in the opening chapter – the only chapter in the trilogy to be told out of chronological sequence – assassinates Boone many years in the future on a colonized Mars. The narrative jumps back in time and we read of the journey to Mars and the initial stages of colonization. Not only that but we see Boone win Chalmers’ girl, Maya Toitovna. Later KSR shows us Boone’s last days, a washed up drug addict: no longer a simple stereotype, we perceive him as a lovable real person – warts and all. Suddenly we realize Chalmers’ crime. We now hate Chalmers. Obviously here I’m expressing none of the subtlety and guile of with colossal switch-a-roonie and no doubt you’re wonder what so great about that, but trust me, after several hundred intense dense pages of character development and intrigue it hit me in the chest: noooooooooo! Don’t kill him, you bastard! Clever stuff, Mr. Robinson – clever stuff. There are countless other examples of cunning character interplay throughout the trilogy. Some minor, other cosmic in scale. For are start, Red Mars barely hints at the rivalry that will develop throughout the rest of the trilogy between Sax Russell and Ann Clayborne that personifies the main political and ecological struggle between the opposing groups the Greens and the Reds, who fight over the right to terraform Mars into an Earth-like planet or to leave it untouched and pure. The other conflict that dominates the novels is that between Earth’s interference upon the development and freedom of the colony.
Red Mars is practically a faultless novel. Perhaps a little too long, but having the ambition to require the 600 odd pages to tell the story it has to tell. Maybe some of the knitty-gritty scientific detail will be a little too involved and dry for some readers, but other than that it would be hard to imagine how Red Mars could ever have been improved upon. Hard that is until Green Mars (1994) and Blue Mars (1996) came along. I’ll spare you my eulogizing of these novels, only to say that the evolution of Sax Russell from bone-dry irresponsible scientist to womaniser and revolutionary figurehead is possibly some of the greatest storytelling I’ve read in genre fiction.
One of the problems with these century-scale future histories, such as the Foundation trilogy, is the necessity of telling the story as a multi-generational saga, where every few chapters we the readers are required to drop our allegiances to the group of characters we’ve just been reading about and immediately superimpose them on the next group of characters who unconvincingly and conveniently happen to be the great grand children of the initial characters in the first chapter we read about two volumes ago. A process that the reader has to continue adopting until the conclusion. This is fine if the author wants us to comprehend that there are forces bigger than us mere humans but these continued interruptions are less than conjusive to the enjoyment of a novel. Here KSR happens upon a simple and what you might think is a rather obvious solution for any sf author worth his salt, but one I hadn’t seen adopted before, that of longevity treatment, thus making the characters effectively immortal: giving the whole trilogy a narrative consistency that, for my money, no other future history sf series has managed.
Interestingly this simple plot devise also gave the trilogy its most moving storyline: the depression, dementia and loneliness that the effectively immortal will have to contend with in a society stretched across the solar system. Things become especially poignant as we see the once beautiful Maya Toitovna look at a picture of her ex-lover Frank Chalmers and wonder who that nice looking man is. And it is in details like this that KSR most impresses. Short punchy sf novels and short stories can cope with minimal character-orientated storylines, but if you’re going to ask a reader to stick around for 2000 pages then there better be more than just a few clever concepts and wacky ideas. The novel is, after all, a medium that is usually best when used to explore the human condition.
The other novels of Kim Stanley Robinson
Of greatest note is his huge The Years of Rice and Salt (2002), a 700 year alternate history of a world where Europe fell to the plague and Asian civilizations rule. Not as sensational as it might first sound, but an fascinating and ambitious, if flawed, work that deserves greater analysis then I’m going to give it here. Although I will say that again KSR finds an interesting way of falling into the multi-generational pitfall that these multi-decadal sagas fall into: that of using the same pool of characters again and again in each era, but this time using reincarnation as a narrative tool.
His last trilogy, Science in the Capital (2004-2007), a kind of West Wing meets The Day After Tomorrow, fail to capture the scope and imagination of his early work. Probably because it failed to pave any new ground. For the first time I grew bored of the classic archetypal KSR characters and the setting, a near future Washington in a world of global warming, felt to mundane to be interesting for anyone but the most fanatical KSR fan or environmentalist. Indeed more than any of his other works it seemed to expose his biggest flaw as a writer: his apparent naivety that the human race will eventually find peaceful political solutions. Now I didn’t expect KSR to write a pessimistic Ballardian post-apocalypse, but his faith in human beings does at times make you wonder what exactly has he been smoking! Still this trilogy did predict Hurricane Katrina and the sinking of a major American city, although the immediate US action on climate change that he predicted didn’t, to the best of my recollection, ever materialize. Maybe Obama will be his real-life Senator Chase. Maybe not…
Of his early novels only Short Sharp Shock (1990) stands out. It’s his only real foray into fantasy writing, its not realistic – indeed its surreal – and its by far his shortest novel. Antarctica (1997) is little but a one volume Earth-bound Mars trilogy, which also features the green-fingered Senator Chase. Escape from Karhmandu (1989) is a fix-up of four eco-comedy novellas that sadly are neither funny nor any good. Of more interest to sf fans will be his to early novels Icehenge (1985) and The Memory of Whiteness (1985), both of which are readable, if unremarkable hard-ish sf novels, that also feature a prototype background that is basically similar to that found in the Mars trilogy.

Anyway, maybe Science in the Capital indicates that KSR is now somewhat off the boil these days. I’ll be interested to see what his next novel is like. I feel he has probably explored eco-politics beyond the point that he could have anything more to say on it, so I hope he finds away of reinventing himself, while capturing the quality of his greatest work. I’m hoping The Years of Rice and Salt and Short Sharp Shock show the way, rather than Science in the Capital.
More on KSR:
- The KSR forum
- The KRS page on Fantastic Fiction
- And hear KSR on Feb 18, 2009 episode of The Future and You podcast as pointed out by PhilH on the SSS forums


