One Day In The Life Of The I.S.S.-A Novel

book cover Orbital won the Booker Prize for best novel this month. The space station reckoning, or, one day in the life of the ISS crew by Aditya Chaturvedi Monday, November 25, 2024 Bookmark and Share The American writer Tom Wolfe was intrigued by what it takes for a human to be put aboard a space shuttle and hurled upwards with blazing thrust and mind-numbing velocity. But what is it that astronauts think while hovering in orbit at 25,000 kilometers per hour, conducting laboratory experiments or collecting samples, and looking at the terra firma below from the vantage point of the low Earth orbit? Cosmic mind The 2024 Booker Prize winner novel Orbital by British writer Samantha Harvey delves into this question through the looking glass of five astronauts from the USA, the UK, Japan, Italy, and Russia who form a “floating family” on the International Space Station (see “Review: Orbital”, The Space Review, January 8, 2024). The answer is somber, replete with cosmic existential wisdom on the everyday banality and fragility of human bonds—breaking relationships, fading footprints on the sandy terrain of memory, the dismal unpredictability of life—as well as the despair and anguish about the future of the Earth and the inextricably interwoven fate of billions. Humans are known for routine organization of life and bodily circadian rhythm. This sense of time is lost when one is circling the Earth, orbiting 16 times a day, witnessing 16 sunrises and sunsets (one every 90 minutes), all in the span of one day on Earth. The novel is divided into 16 chapters, each detailing one orbit. Invisible boundaries Carl Sagan's “Pale Blue Dot”, the only planet we can call home today, simmers with raging conflicts, upheavals, and the various attempts to remake political cartography. But none of it is visible from the sky. The only signs of human habitation and restless activity are visible at night when the lights go up. But what is it that astronauts think while hovering in orbit at 25,000 kilometers per hour, conducting laboratory experiments or collecting samples, and looking at the terra firma below from the vantage point of the low Earth orbit? No border demarcations, or hotly contested national fences, the map-makers imprint and tangible markers of sovereignty, are visible except for one, as the novel notes: “Even at night there’s only one man-made border in the whole of the world; a long trail of lights between Pakistan and India. That’s all civilisation has to show for its divisions, and by day even that has gone.” What can be seen in stark contrast is the impact of natural hazards, the impending disasters, evidence of ecological degradation, and the natural topography in vibrant, kaleidoscopic shades: “The earth, from here, is like heaven. It flows with colour. A burst of hopeful colour.” The crew witnesses the building up of a typhoon near Southeast Asia and feels helpless and gloomy for not being able to turn it away. This explains the “fortune teller’s” wizardry of early warning systems and simultaneously their inadequacy when there are no coherent mitigation plans or agile first responders on the ground. The vast expanse of deserts, forests, grasslands, and the changing weather cycles which the ISS passes through all appear in juxtaposition with countries and their peculiar geographic shapes. Literary critic James Wood has called Harvey “Melville of the Skies” for this first of the space novels which is based entirely aboard the ISS. Harvey calls the ISS “a symbol of post-cold war peace and reconciliation” that now belongs to another era and is slowly dying. The ISS is set to be decommissioned in 2030. Space realism From Kurt Vonnegut’s comic Sirens of Titan to Arthur C. Clarke’s wildly popular 2001: A Space Odyssey, space has long been a playfield of science fiction, myths, and exuberant mixes of magical realism and alien invasion fantasy. Orbital doesn't fall into any of these genres. It is not about star wars, space travelers, or the unexplored, tenebrous limits of the infinite cosmos. What makes Orbital stand out is that it uses space to reinforce a dire message about Earth and compels deep introspection on topics such as human belonging, sense of time, coexistence, climate change, and ecology. Harvey has thanked NASA and ESA for their wonderful satellite imagery, space footage, and livestreamed ISS feed that, along with battling insomnia, sparked her curiosity to know what happens on Earth and dive deep into the innermost thoughts of those with the ringside—or rather the orbital-side—view of the blue planet. During her youth, she collected quotes by astronauts and was moved when a Russian cosmonaut said he understood the meaning of the word round only when he went to space and saw the Earth from there. At 136 pages, Orbital is the second slimmest novel after Penelope Fitzgerald's 1979 novel Offshore to win the prestigious Booker. Harvey's terse, lyrical prose offers profound wisdom on the human condition and the state of the Earth, beyond the usual binaries of growth/de-growth, or clichés on purpose, utility, and happiness. Harvey's work is a stellar literary meditation on what space, “the last nationless, borderless outpost that strains against human life,” can impart. The most formidable force changing everything around us is not technology but human want and the subsequent anthropogenic footprint: “The planet is shaped by the sheer amazing force of human want, which has changed everything, the forests, the poles, the reservoirs, the glaciers, the rivers, the seas, the mountains, the coastlines, the skies, a planet contoured and landscaped by want.” For space enthusiasts, technologists, policymakers, as well as the public there are two enduring thoughts in this short novella. We rely on space for everything from Earth observation to asset monitoring, and from early warning systems to disaster management and climate risk assessment. But ultimately, all that data, imagery, insights, and repository of knowledge will only lead us halfway unless complimented by decisive human ability, cooperation, knowledge transfer, and the willingness to act. There is no panacea anywhere other than erecting more bridges and breaking down barriers and walls. Earth is an interdependent, complex system with its unique planetary tipping points, fault lines, and fissures. Space is the best vantage point from a scientific as well as epistemological perspective. That’s why we need to redouble our efforts to enhance space-based knowledge of Earth systems, and the complex challenges that beset us. Harvey's work is a stellar literary meditation on what space, “the last nationless, borderless outpost that strains against human life,” can impart beyond maximizing cross-functional innovations, making value chains more integrated and dynamic, and hyperfast communications at the speed of blinking eyelids, or scouting for life on some other orb. Life’s not elsewhere With the evolution of space exploration, the “common province” shouldn’t be viewed just as a springboard for the pursuit of intergalactic planetary life on a neighboring planet, a pitstop between Earth and Mars, or a launchpad hurling us towards far-flung corners of the Milky Way galaxy. Testing is underway for the world's heaviest and most powerful rocket yet, SpaceX’s Starship, a vehicle nothing short of an astounding scientific and engineering feat. With it, Mars appears ever closer on the horizon to many. The maverick Elon Musk, founder and CEO of SpaceX, recently wrote on X, “A fully reusable rocket with orbital refueling is the critical breakthrough needed to make life multiplanetary. For the first time in 4.5 billion years.” The scope of his ambition and the spectacular achievement of SpaceX is truly admirable. However, we need to tread cautiously while following the glowing scarlet Martian dreams. They should not deviate us from sordid earthly realities and the bleak, mundane challenges. The task ahead is fixing things here first and ensuring a sustainable planet for posterity. As a species we are firmly anchored and tethered to the Earth ever since fire was invented. The final frontier, which exemplifies the conscious recognition of shared destinies forged together on Earth, as well as the shared perils, should never become an oblivious outpost or an abandoned milestone, as we drift farther and farther away, losing sight of near-term problems and priorities over the far-fetched. Lofty cosmic ambitions offer no quick fix for the slew of crises here that need to be urgently fixed. Contrary to the title of the Milan Kundera novel Life is Elsewhere (a slogan scrawled by student protesters in Paris) that was published in 1969, the seminal year of Apollo 11 moon landing, life for us is only here—on this Earth—and nowhere else. Aditya Chaturvedi is former Deputy Editor at Geospatial World. He is intrigued by the intersection of society, politics, popular culture, and technology.