Book Review: Open Earth

I have two thoughts about the book Open Earth by Sarah Mirk, Eva Cabrera, and Claudia Aguirre.

One is that if a reader is looking for a book that presents a sex positive look at polyamory and open relationships, with women of various shapes and sizes, and people of different skin tones, you’ll like this.

If on the other hand, you’re looking for more than just representation – and if representation is all you’re after, I understand. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of mediocre TV shows and movies, read a lot of meh comics and novels because of representation, so I don’t fault anyone who wants or needs it – then you’re going to walk away disappointed.

Open Earth isn’t porn but it is an erotic book with nudity, but the problem is that it’s trying to do many things and doesn’t really do any of them especially well.

Let’s start with the main character Rigo, who isn’t much of a character. She has a job in a lab. She lives with her parents in the space station, where there isn’t a lot of space. She likes and has sex with a lot of people. That’s really about it.

The other characters aren’t much better, which if all the book was were porn, it wouldn’t be that big of an issue. But it’s not just porn.

This is a science fiction tale set in the future on the space station California. Life on a climate change ravaged Earth were bad. California opened up its borders with Mexico and Cascadia, made Spanglish the official language, and continued to flourish even after the rest of the country went dark. But things started to go downhill and a group of scientists traveling to a space station made a pact to never return to Earth, settled onboard, had children, and tried not to think about the fact that no one on the surface has answered a transmission for years.

So obviously given that backstory, and the knowledge that it’s likely humanity and civilization as we know it now has been mostly wiped out, we should totally focus on a group of heterosexual 20 year olds who don’t believe in monogamy. That is the most compelling and interesting story in this setting, clearly.

Anyway the characters drop a Spanish word here and there (because remember, they speak Spanglish) and they eat colorless meals that have been optimized for nutrition. But it feels very sterile. Other than have sex, I’m not sure what anyone on this space station does. Plus they’re all heterosexual, or at least all the characters we meet. Which feels dull. In the back matter of the book, the writer Mirk talks about the character of Rigo partially in these terms:

“there’s no pop culture, no consumerism, no industry that’s geared around telling her she needs to look a very specific way in order to be pretty.”

Which is fine, but the problem is that it never feels as though there is any culture at all. Nor does it feel like everyone is in a constant state of alertness and work that would prohibit or prevent the creation of a culture. So little is regimented or ever expected of any of these characters. Nothing feels urgent or tenuous. Even though one character says that everything on the station is falling apart. And then we jump to them having sex and this never gets mentioned again.

Other than Rigo’s mom singing Hotel California, there’s no culture.

And if the Eagles are the only cultural object to survive Earth….we fucking deserve to go extinct.

It just feels like a very elaborate and complicated setup for absolutely no payoff. I mean there’s very little reason why this couldn’t take place among a group of young people living in say Sacramento in 2020. Other than the one scene of zero G sex.

Well, that and the talk about how they’re the first generation and they get to do what they want and live how they want to live. I mean, I get it. But doesn’t every young person think that? Doesn’t every generation think this way in some way shape or form? I think there are ways that people can choose to live differently without, you know, almost completely wiping out humanity.

The two dimensional characters ultimately make the book feel like some sex scenes and an essay. Or multiple essays.

One reason that the book is so well done is the artwork. Eva Cabrera has shown in Kim and Kim and other work this that she has a mastery of character design, of making individuals who can be cartoony but can express complex emotions, can convey emotional subtlety as well as she can depict action. She doesn’t get to do much action here admittedly, but I found myself far more interested and excited by the art than I did anything else.

I will say that I did find it interesting that the female characters are all curvy and the male characters are all tall and slender. Of course I understand the inclination, and I know what the creators responding to. I don’t even object. The problem is that it contributes to the feeling of sterility and artificiality in the book. The characters are simplistic. The science fiction premise is half-baked. There are a lot of speeches about polyamory and finding a different way to live and love, distinct from the past. 

And so the female characters live in a world where no one is dictating beauty standards and so they can be curvy. But the male characters have to be conventionally attractive. 

And yes, I’m saying this as a cis guy. And I get the point that the authors are making. I don’t necessarily disagree with the point.

But they’re making a point. Not building characters, but making a point. It makes the book feel less like an organic story about individuals and more of a story that is meant to illustrate a particular point.

I said at the beginning that I understand that if all a reader wants is representation, this is a good book to check out. I understand needing and wanting to see oneself reflected on the page and in fictional worlds. But I also don’t think that’s enough. Some will argue that’s obnoxious of me, and maybe it is. I want a book that’s complex and thoughtful with interesting characters who happen to live and love in particular ways. A story that manages to bring to life what it means and how it feels. The complexity of being around people who think you’re nuts or simply don’t understand, and finding people who do understand and care.

Open Earth doesn’t do any of that.

I was reminded of the book Crossplay by Niki Smith which I reread recently. The book was not about polyamory, but it was erotic and it was thoughtful about sex and gender and love and relationships in ways that Open Earth didn’t try to be. Maybe because Smith was interested in her characters first and foremost. There was sex and she was making points about sexuality, but all these ideas were ultimately about and centered around the characters. 

I joked about Hotel California earlier in the review. Okay, half-joked. If the future has the Eagles but no Mozart, I think maybe we should all die. But one reason the moment stood out was because it was such an odd character moment. The book needed more of those.

To say that all I wanted from the book was characters having sex and coming to terms with their feelings is both not asking for much, and yet, it is a lot. Open Earth doesn’t deliver.