SLEEPING GIANTS

Author: Sylvain Neuvel
Year: 2016
Publisher: Brombergs Bokförlag
Language: Swedish (Translator Peter Samuelsson)

In the enchanting years of childhood, where youthful enthusiasm knows no bounds, a girl frolics through the familiar neighbourhood, traversing woods and fields without neither plan nor goal. In this whimsical dance, the ground suddenly gives way underneath her feet and she tumbles into a sinkhole. Yet, rather than meeting the expected muddy ground, her fall is broken by a metal hand of unimaginable proportions and age. The first sleeping giant unearthed by human civilisation.

This is the starting point of Canadian writer and translator Sylvain Neuvel’s widely acclaimed series The Themis Files, whose first instalment is “Sovande jättar” (“Sleeping Giants”). The young girl’s discovery of the hand of a colossal robot triggers a global quest for the remaining parts at the highest levels of international politics. Her experience inspires her to venture into the study of physics and years later, after earning her PhD, she is heading up the team that conducts the research on the metallic giant on behalf of the US government. The tale unfolds as the team, with increasingly audacious endeavours, pursues scattered body parts worldwide, navigating geopolitical complexities.

In lieu of a traditional narrator, the story is mainly told by interrogation protocols and interviews, and in some cases hospital journals or official government documents. These accounts are mostly facilitated by a faceless, nameless, and untitled quasi-governmental agent whose interest in the extraordinary find is as shrouded in mystery as the contraption itself.

While the premise captivates attention, the execution leaves room for critique.

A common mistake is when a writer tries to inject too much action into the story without sufficiently expanding character gallery. Soap operas, obviously, have elevated this malaise to an artform. It certainly serves its purpose to keep the number of names to a bare minimum (unless you are a Russian writer and simply don’t care) but if the story becomes too complex involving too few characters, credibility suffers. This is exactly what happens to “Sovande jättar”. The improbable chain of events that leads a girl from a chance discovery to directing the research of it several decades later already strains believability. But it is only one of several such pitfalls. I leave out the rest to avoid spoilers.

Furthermore, the research direction as well as the pace and haphazard methods that mar its progress, including highly questionable ethics and safety measures, betray a vague understanding of academical research. Albeit no project can foresee and mitigate all risks, but no serious project manager would expose their teams to the kind of hazards that are described in the plot.

The choice of narration through protocols and journals, too, while not inherently flawed, falters in execution. It is imperative that the narration not only supports the story but moreover is suitable for it. If it is noticeable that the writer is struggling to maintain a certain perspective the bubble bursts. This is a constant problem for Neuvel in “Sovande jättar”. Many of the interrogations accounted for are simply unjustified, and in the case of a shrewd secret agent of an equally secret as influential agency, it should have been in his interest to not erect a protocol from certain conversations at all. But Neuvel could not omit them as they contain data that the reader needs to know to follow the story. By the same token, the interrogated characters sometimes answer questions they should’ve simply rejected or make random out-of-character comments.

In short; the plot's potential for exploring humanity's place in the universe and our technological inferiority is underutilised. Instead of delving into profound existential questions, Neuvel opts for a simplistic thriller, punctuated by juvenile love stories and he-said-she-said dialogues. From the introduction of the book, we learn that the genesis of The Themis Files is in a whimsical request from the author’s son for a bedtime tale about a toy robot. The resultant work straddles the line between a young adult and a more mature audience. The plot holes put their trust in the forgiveness of a reader's naivety and the language remains simple, while the political dimensions and sexual undertones require a more advanced age group. The characters, constrained by the protocol/article narration, emerge as flat and uninteresting—a foreseeable consequence of this stylistic choice.

So far, The Themis Files has been a disappointment.