Solaris

Solaris is a phenomenal science fiction book about alien contact, God and love, heavy on philosophy, existentialism and intellectualism.

The twin-sun planet Solaris mimics God by replicating our desires and gifting them to us, while the main story character, Kris Kelvin, is a scientist looking for love and secretly craving it more than anything else in the universe, who inadvertently looks to Solaris for benevolent favor without even realizing it.

Imagine visiting a house for the weekend and your wildest fantasy becoming a reality. An intense memory from the past mysteriously regenerated as a perfect real-life facsimile.

Would you go to that house and would you stay there? Of course you would.

But what happens when you leave? Can the facsimile be taken with you?

And if it can't, would you stay at the house forever to sustain a permanent high, sacrificing every other aspect of your life? We all have to come down in the end.

What happens if the replicated memory is a negative nightmare? Would you try to prevent a similar nightmare occurring or try to destroy it?

These are moral questions about who is right or wrong for wanting to be selfishly happy or preferring to destroy.

Solaris is a thought provoking book, only brought down a notch by the extensive technical explanations in a few turgid chapters that trawl through scientific findings by imaginary 'et al' authors, which could be skipped but also add depth and atmosphere.

Some people may not be able to forgive the indulgence of these chapters.

In the phenomenal 2002 movie remake with George Clooney, romance is a stronger focus than in the 1961 novel, probably to drive interest forward and avoid the scientific musings.

The best chapter is Monsters and its intellectual debating skills on a level with Jane Austen and her novels, it's that good, and if you’re expecting the writing style to be turgid, don't worry, it’s light and direct when Stanislaw Lem gets back to the main story.

Solaris gets 5 stars because of how it reminds you that loss is just a part of life and therefore not such a big deal, which is strangely reassuring, bitter-sweet and melancholy.

Watch the movie versions if you can, the 1972 original is strangely psychedelic and drawn out and maybe not for everyone, while the 2002 remake is brilliantly acted and a bit overly romantic. They won't spoil your enjoyment of this book with its quirks and differences.