110 pages • 3 hours read
Kim Stanley RobinsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Robinson introduces Ganymed, a 1952 sculpture by Hermann Hubacher, in Chapter 9. Rooted in a myth in which the god Zeus comes in the form of an eagle to kidnap the handsome warrior Ganymede to Mt. Olympus to be his cupbearer (or lover, by some accounts), the statue symbolizes how Mary and others see the relationship between people and nature.
In Chapter 9, Mary points at how the moon seems to lay in Ganymede’s hand, “as if he were about to throw it across the sky” (34), to encourage Badim to do more to help the ministry defend nature on behalf of humanity in the future, what she calls a form of “climate justice” (33-34). For Mary, Ganymed represents the ministry’s potential for doing good. That night is likely the moment when Badim conceives of the Children of Kali, however, so that potential is also violent.
Almost 10 years later, Mary sits under the statue, and this time she is attentive to the eagle toward which Ganymede is gesturing and the swans—“[n]ot creatures of this world at all” (252)—swimming in Lake Zurich near the statue. The swans are creatures of this world, in fact, and when Badim asks Mary about the myth from which the sculpture is derived, she admits she was too fascinated with technology that could help address practical problems than stories like the myth of Ganymede. Mary, despite her position, is alienated from the natural world that the statue represents.
Mary visits the statue years later on two occasions—after Frank dies and during carnival, which she spends with Art. After Frank dies, she looks at the statue and imagines that it is one about:
Ganymede perhaps asking Zeus for a ride to Olympus. It wouldn’t be good when he got there, but he didn’t know that. The gods were godlike, humans never prospered among them. But Ganymede wanted to find out. That moment when you asked life to come through for you (499).
The statue represents Mary’s inability to accept an essential truth about humans as living beings—like all animals in the natural world, they die.
Frank’s interactions with the statue are slight. Frank describes the Ganymede figure as a one that “[holds] his arm up against the distant Alps” (193). Just before his cancer finally becomes apparent, Frank fixates on the gesture Ganymede makes—“enigmatic to the point of blankness”—and concludes that his life is like that, a gesture “[of]ffering something to a great eagle” (394). Frank sees himself as a small person attempting to offer his life to something much bigger—the planet or nature.
Sometime after Frank’s death, Mary takes Art to see the statue. Art helps her imagine the statue as one about humanity’s surrendering to nature, specifically the animals, by protecting it. For Mary, the statue is a reminder that what distinguishes humans from nonhuman animals is that “people can take their fate in their hands. That there is no such thing as fate” (564), meaning that even though humans are mortal, their actions can change the future through intentional actions like protecting the environment.
Robinson uses the statue to reinforce his portrayal of how we can win the battle for climate change on behalf of future generations. The final image of the statue is one that counters the hopelessness and nihilism that many might feel as they see the great amount of work needed to make the future painted in the book a reality.
The word fate appears 17 times in the novel, and the bulk of those instances are in chapters in which Frank is the point-of-view character. Fate—the idea that one’s future depends on forces outside of one’s control—is a concept that many of the characters confront as they consider whether their efforts to avert climate collapse are futile. Frank is particularly susceptible to doubt about his ability be an effective agent for saving the planet because of his social isolation.
Fate first appears in Chapter 1 with an allusion to a play based on the Hindu epic Mahabharata. Frank sees one of the young actors from the play and remembers the actor playing Arjun, who “shouted triumphantly, ‘It’s only fate!’ and managed to take one last swing before going down under Arjuna’s impervious sword” (11). It is clear to Frank that the actor is aware that he will likely die in the lake. Frank shares that same feeling, so “It’s only fate” highlights his fixation on the suffering of others and his own suffering.
In Chapter 5, he once again turns to the idea of fate to come to terms with his guilt that he survived while so many (Indian) others did not. Fate in this case is not random—it is unearned privilege that results from living in a world in which Westerners have almost all the resource from birth.
In Chapter 26, Frank says this line repeatedly as he nears the end of his life. Mary overhears him and feels compelled to tell him, “My friend, there is no such thing as fate” (496). He can’t hear her, but their perspectives on fate are an important part of how each character approaches the existential threat of climate change and life. Frank’s mutterings are perhaps an effort to accept his physical death and the end of this fight.
Mary—a fierce fighter who has spent most of her life fighting for the climate—has always refused to accept that climate collapse is a fate people must accept. Ironically, Frank’s act of taking her a hostage years ago inspired her to extreme efforts to avoid the most catastrophic version of climate catastrophe. On the night that she takes Art to see Ganymede, she, too struggles with not just the possible death of the planet but her own mortality. Her insistence at the end of the novel that there is no such thing as fate is her realization that her connectedness to all living things—even those in the future—gives her individual life a meaning beyond “extinction” (564).
Clipper of the Clouds is the name of Art’s ship. Mary travels on the ship near the end of her tenure as minister and after her retirement. The ship is a symbol for her relationship with Art and her recognition of the real-world changes the political and bureaucratic work of the Ministry for the Future have wrought on the natural world. Art is an elusive man. In the limited space of the ship, Mary spends time with him; her willingness to travel slowly by airship with him also signals that she is ready to leave behind the urgency of her work with the ministry and focus on forming connections with others. Beyond really seeing Art for who he is, Mary sees habitats and habitat corridors where animals are in resurgence due to pro-Earth policies supported by the ministry. While Mary frequently thinks about nature in the abstract, her travel on the ship makes the beauty of the planet real because she gets to see with her own eyes.
The chamois—a goat-antelope—symbolizes the connection between humans and nature. Frank encounters a chamois after Mary encourages him to visit the Alps to figure out what to do with the existential crisis he has as he becomes aware of his inability to do much about the suffering of the world. Frank locks gazes with the chamois and imagines himself as “another animal” (374) in the eyes of the chamois. Although Frank continues to struggle with the problem of human suffering, he now understands that he is not alone so long as he understands himself to be part of nature.
By Kim Stanley Robinson