Following the rainstorm that flooded Washington, D.C. in his FORTY SIGNS OF RAIN, Kim Stanley Robinson continues his “Science in the Capital” trilogy with a most cruel winter in FIFTY DEGREES BELOW.
Taking place immediately following the great flood, FIFTY DEGREES shifts its focus from the do-gooder Quibler family to their friend, National Science Foundation scientist Frank Vanderwal. Newly homeless thanks to the raging waters, he decides to give into his primal ancestry and builds himself a treehouse in the park to live in, where he tracks escaped zoo animals, plays Frisbee golf and contemplates penile frostbite. Meanwhile, at work at the NSF, he and his colleagues outlay “what if?” scenarios involving radical climate changes and learn of an oncoming cold front – caused, ironically, by more global warming – that threatens to plunge the nation to the record-low temps of the title as it bathes it in ice.
You know that R.E.M. song that asks, “Should we talk about the weather? Should we talk about the government?” That’s what the characters in FIFTY DEGREES do. In fact, that’s about all they do, but to Robinson’s credit, I wasn’t the least bit bothered by the inactivity. In more conventional thrillers, the event would be the book, but – as with FORTY SIGNS – the book climaxes with the event itself, rather than with its resolution. FIFTY DEGREES operates on a harsh level of realism; man cannot easily change nature, so there’s nothing they can do to stop the storm, but merely learn from it.
From the first few pages, FIFTY DEGREES bore its brainy hooks into me. By now, the characters are so comfortable that he need not waste time with introductions. (This, however, is a detriment to anyone who hasn’t read FORTY SIGNS, so don’t start here. In fact, Robinson may assume too much of the reader’s memory; had I not read FORTY SIGNS in paperback just a few months ago, it wouldn’t have been so fresh on my mind and, thus, could have lost me.) His characters are well fleshed-out, as this series is more about the people than anything that happens to them, but this time around, I noticed one jarring defect: They have no flaws. Seriously, Robinson practically adorns Frank and Co. with halos, to the point where you might have to go back to a little something called the New Testament to find someone so angelic. They’re imbued with a far-leftist idealism that’s all too precious; still, I like them so much that I gladly invest 400 pages with them.
Bear in mind that FIFTY DEGREES is the middle chapter to an overall greater story, to be concluded hopefully by year’s end with the as-yet-unannounced third novel. So while there is some closure on certain points, Robinson intentionally leaves you dangling on others, most notably the sudden disappearance of a transient chess player or the bizarre Big Brother aspect that infuses Frank’s already oddball romance with a mystery woman. With that in mind, those who prefer fiction about science rather than science fiction will find much to wrap their heads around in this C-SPAN meets The Weather Channel marriage of politics and natural disasters. –Rod Lott
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