Ian McDonald (1) (1960–)

I've enjoyed Ian McDonald's fiction for a long time: [b:Desolation Road|278284|Desolation Road (Desolation Road Universe, #1)|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1304679563l/278284._SY75_.jpg|2698837] is a favourite from my teenage years and I also remember [b:Chaga|666817|Chaga|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1176932558l/666817._SY75_.jpg|269905] very fondly. So when I discovered he'd written a long climate novel, I was excited to read it. Although climate change is very important to the narrative, I found [b:Hopeland|43063809|Hopeland|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1677839645l/43063809._SY75_.jpg|66853368] happier and more fantastical than I expected. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to the title! I read the whole thing in one day, while feeling under the weather on the sofa. It lifted my mood overall, while also making me cry. This is unusual, as it seems to require sincere solidarity and hope amid disaster. Tragedy alone doesn't move me to tears. But at the core of [b:Hopeland|43063809|Hopeland|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1677839645l/43063809._SY75_.jpg|66853368] are community, love, and human persistence, which apparently do. And it isn't just me: Cory Doctorow cried over it too and at a livestreamed event Iain McDonald gleefully claimed that every reader cries at three points.

The novel opens in 2011 London during the riots. The initial sections had shades of The Invisibles and [b:Rivers of London|9317452|Rivers of London (Rivers of London, #1)|Ben Aaronovitch|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1401385034l/9317452._SY75_.jpg|13552476], with their cool and stylish depiction of mysterious quasi-supernatural organisations. The main characters are introduced as adventurous youths and as avatars for the spiritual-familial organisations they belong to. Their meeting is quite brief then they split protagonist duties for much of the remaining narrative, which sprawls decades into the future. I enjoyed following Raisa and Amon (all the names in this book are great), both excellent characters with fascinating families. Raisa settles in Iceland, while Amon ends up on the island kingdom of Ava' u. Once the narrative reaches the future, a more whimsical Kim Stanley Robinson style prevails and both protagonists' lives are significantly shaped by climate change. There is limited focus on technology and more on human connections via family (of birth and/or choice), spiritual belief, co-operative projects, music, and culture. [b:Hopeland|43063809|Hopeland|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1677839645l/43063809._SY75_.jpg|66853368] is a wonderfully rich novel, full of vivid images and memorable moments. The fantastical elements are made wonderfully meaningful by their grounding in relationships, communities, and cultures.

The parts that made me cry concerned the people of Ava' u surviving a catastrophic storm, only to discover that their aquifer has been breached by the sea so their home is no longer habitable. The entire nation become climate refugees and take an extraordinary journey north to settle in Greenland. Amon's connection to Raisa catalyses this and the epic voyage is seen through his eyes. This sequence of survival, solidarity, and adaptation is astonishingly moving, as it never veers into sentimental cliche or trivialises the plight of refugees. It also features a very striking scene when the ships from Ava' u encounter the ruins of an offshore libertarian community that has descended into chaos and death. This failed attempt to build a nation purely on contractual relationships makes a very effective contrast to the webs of connections both protagonists build.

[b:Hopeland|43063809|Hopeland|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1677839645l/43063809._SY75_.jpg|66853368] wasn't the depressing climate change epic I vaguely anticipated, with the result that I had much more fun than expected. I hadn't read an Iain McDonald novel for a long while, so had forgotten that he is above all playful when approaching concepts like terraforming ([b:Desolation Road|278284|Desolation Road (Desolation Road Universe, #1)|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1304679563l/278284._SY75_.jpg|2698837]), contact with aliens ([b:Chaga|666817|Chaga|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1176932558l/666817._SY75_.jpg|269905]), or, here, surviving climate change. [b:Hopeland|43063809|Hopeland|Ian McDonald|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1677839645l/43063809._SY75_.jpg|66853368] is a sprawling epic full of beguiling and skillfully explored ideas. Perhaps my favourite themes were the persistence of music over time and family as choice not blood. What a lovely reading experience. Why should climate change fiction always make me feel doomed and hopeless, anyway?… (more)