Renowned for his gargantuan, information-dense science fiction novels, Neal Stephenson seems to have taken a surprising new tack with his latest book, Polostan. Clocking in at a relatively svelte 320 pages, this fast-paced historical adventure whisks readers from Soviet Russia to jazz age America, following the audacious exploits of its protagonist, Dawn Rae Bjornberg. But is this brisk, plot-driven tale a mere diversion for the author, or a tantalizing first glimpse of an ambitious new cycle?
From Magnitogorsk to the Midwest
Dawn, or Aurora as she’s known in her father’s homeland, straddles two worlds – born to a Russian communist and an American mother, she spends her youth traversing between the burgeoning industrial landscapes of the USSR and the rail-riding subculture of Depression-era United States. Stephenson paints these contrasting milieus in vivid, economical strokes:
Abruptly the hangar doors were hauled open, letting in a fanfare of bleak sunlight and a fist of cold air. A truck towed the gondola, which was mounted on a trailer, out to the field where the balloon was beginning to mound up…
– A Russian balloon launch, as described in Polostan
Whether hobnobbing with the likes of George Patton on the polo field or toiling on the titanic construction site of Magnitogorsk, Dawn/Aurora navigates the tumultuous currents of history with grit and aplomb. Her escapades see her entangled with the Reds in America, incarcerated in a Siberian psychiatric ward, and enlisted as a potential double agent, her loyalties ever shifting.
Polo and Privilege
A recurring motif is the sport of polo, an activity straddling the realms of aristocratic leisure and military discipline. As Stephenson astutely observes, the care and training of polo ponies is as much the purview of regimental grunts as blue-blooded elites. This dichotomy serves as an apt metaphor for Dawn herself, equally at ease among the haut monde and the hoi polloi.
Nimble Prose Takes Flight
While Stephenson forgoes his signature digressions into science and technology, his rich yet agile prose is on full display. Whether evoking the grandeur of a Russian balloon ascending through “a veil of high, icy clouds” or the bleakness of an interrogation featuring a metal bedframe and bone-chilling waters, the author’s gift for indelible description remains undimmed.
A Tantalizing Opener
In a coy authorial wink, it’s revealed that Polostan is but the initial installment of a projected multi-part saga entitled The Bomb Light Cycle. While eminently satisfying as a self-contained novel, the book’s brisk pace and wealth of historical incident suggest that Stephenson’s narrative canvas may expand to a more typically sprawling scale as the series progresses.
Longtime Stephenson acolytes and newcomers alike will find much to savor in this vibrantly etched portrait of an era, anchored by an irresistible protagonist buffeted by the crosswinds of ideology and realpolitik. Whether Polostan represents a canny palate cleanser betwixt epic cycles or a permanent downsizing of the author’s famously maximalist modus operandi, it stands as a gripping and finely wrought fictional gem in its own right.
