John Dickinson: We
David Fickling Books 2010
I found this an utterly gripping novel, especially after the slow and steady start signalled by its opening:
He had asked to be alone when he woke. After all, he had reasoned, from now on he would always be alone.
But are we really, truly alone? Will there be, though we may not be aware of the fact, someone else? Are we, like Cowper’s Alexander Selkirk, wrong in our assumptions that we are monarchs of all we survey, that we’re “out of humanity’s reach” and must finish our “journey alone” even at the edge of space?
This issue is at the heart of this novel, questions about Earth’s uniqueness as a cradle for life. And if there is life ‘out there’, what form will it take?