The Last Theorem by Arthur C. Clarke and Frederik Pohl
Del Rey, $27.00, 301pp, hc, 9780345470218. Science fiction.
Arthur C. Clarke’s last novel, a posthumous collaboration with Frederik Pohl, is one I really wanted to like. Clarke is one of the original “Big Three” of science fiction, and Pohl is no slouch as a writer, either. Unfortunately, I don’t think this book lived up to their individual or combined reputations, which are justly earned from other words.
There are plenty of big ideas, story lines that ought to be world shattering, and people that, for the most part, seem quite real. Unfortunately, the story-telling isn’t up to the task. No matter what the action, whether it’s the calm introspection of a mathematician at work or the frenetic, harried, life-or-death struggle of a pilot in a dying spaceship, the calm, slow, methodical story-telling removes the reader from the action, and that does the story a disservice. There is also the focus on Fermat’s Last Theorem—the most famous unsolved mathematical mystery—which the main character, Sri Lankan Ranjit Subramanian, solves. When the main character is a mathematician, and fairly early in the book he’s able to prove Fermat’s Last Theorem, the reader might be justified in expecting much more math in the book. But after providing the proof and gaining international fame, Ranjit just muddles on with life, marrying well, being happy, and vicariously experiencing many other adventures and joys. But it feels like something’s missing.
There are mysteries: big problems that affect the characters’ lives in unexpected, long-lasting ways. But some of them are simply ignored, others are experienced and then forgotten, and still others are merely accepted, when any normal person would spend years digging to solve them. For a mathematician who can solve the nearly insoluble, Ranjit allowing other mysteries to simply drop is again, unbelievable.
There are also aliens. At least 55 other intelligent species, with four of them on-stage in the book. But again, for all their alienness and strangeness, they’re just sort of there. They’re part of the landscape of this tour of the near-future. A near-future in which a world government is a very real possibility, a space elevator can be built, solar sail races flown, and bloodless wars fought. But in all these wonderful sights and experiences, the reader is just a passive observer. Ranjit walks through life, experiencing it all, and we feel that, just as we are not moved by the writing, he isn’t really moved by the experience. It’s a disappointment.
And a minor stylistic difficulty: while I normally enjoy fiction (written or filmed) that can break the fourth wall effectively, talking directly to the audience, the forays through the fourth wall in this book don’t seem to add much of anything to the story. Rather, they detract from the experience, forcefully reminding the readers that we are, indeed, reading a book. It’s jarring, and not necessary.
I wanted to enjoy this book, with all the big ideas and large settings. I wanted to enjoy it, but instead I stumbled into a moderately interesting travel brochure for a possible future, without much to grab me and pull me in.