Books: More Lessing

THE SIRIAN EXPERIMENTS by Doris Lessing Knopf; 288 pages; $11.95

This is the third installment of a space saga that Author Doris Lessing calls Canopus in Argos: Archives. That running title is matched by the pace of Lessing’s production: three good-sized novels in the past 16 months. Shikasta (1979) tells of a primitive, beautiful planet called Rohanda, which is being jointly colonized by the two vast galactic empires of Canopus and Sirius. A misalignment of cosmic forces throws Rohanda awry; its developing inhabitants stop listening to their wise tutors and begin behaving suspiciously like members of the human race. The Canopean overseers sadly change the place’s name to Shikasta, “the hurt, the damaged, the wounded one.” In The Marriages Between Zones Three, Four, and Five (1980), Lessing unveils a different terrain in her new universe. A queen and king from adjoining regions are commanded by the mysterious powers to marry and restore fertility to their kingdoms. They do not like each other. Their struggles to obey the order are comic, poignant and ultimately successful.

The Sirian Experiments, unfortunately, recapitulates as much as it adds. The primary subject is once again the catastrophe that overtakes Shikasta (earth). The observer this time is a woman named Ambien II, a virtually immortal emissary from Sirius. She was in on the original cultivation of Rohanda-Shikasta. She retains a proprietary interest in the ailing planet, and visits it every eon or so. In addition to the unfolding spectacle of human savagery, she sees some spectacular sights. She happens to be flying over in a small bubble of a spaceship when the planet suddenly tips over from its upright axis. Her description of this cataclysm, all grinding continents and sudden snow, is the most vivid part of her report.

While keeping tabs on Rohanda, Ambien II begins to believe that Canopus is far more advanced than Sirius. The Sirians are technological wizards, but every millennium or so they discover that their ever more sophisticated machines have rendered more people useless and unhappy. Ambien suspects that the Canopeans have achieved a wisdom that transcends this problem, and she initiates a friendship with Klorathy, a senior Canopean administrator, in the hope of prying his secrets away. The job is not easy. He has the habit of answering a question with another question. He is also given to interstellar bromides: “Everything is relative, you know!” After a while, the sessions between these two begin to read like something called Zen and the Art of Empire Maintenance.

The Sirian Experiments is frequently marvelous, in several senses of the word.

But Lessing’s admiration for Canopus of ten nudges her from telling into preaching. In fiction, the knowledge that one character has all the answers works against suspense. The realization that those answers are not forthcoming puts great strains on patience. But another vol ume is reportedly on the way, and others are likely to follow. The Sirian Experiments may be a small misstep on a long journey. To be continued.