A Song for Lya

As always, spoiler warnings. The tale has been about since 1976, so suck it.

There are stories that you read for comfort and pleasure and to wind away a rainy day or when you just can’t be bothered to get off your lazy arse and do something. There are stories than enlighten you and make you address an issue in a new light that you haven’t seen before. And then there are the ones that have you hooked on the series, and the others you dip in and out of, usually when vacating the contents of your bowels. (sorry for all the bum references, folks)

Then there are the ones that will make you sit down and read them in a single sitting, drawing you in and you know you’ll constantly think about for days on end. You’ll think about the characters and events over and over again, when you’re in the shower, walking to work, in the middle of conversation or in general when you should be focusing on other priorities other than over analysing a piece of fiction.

They haunt you.

A Song for Lya is one of these stories.

Don’t believe any timestamp or whatnot tells you on here, I’m currently writing this at 2AM GMT, having  just finished reading this novella by George RR Martin. I’m very tired, but I know I have to write about this now or the moment of creativity will be long, long gone.

This short 50 – 60 page novella (which I am reading as part of his ‘Dreamsongs’ short story anthology) has to be the first tale that truly showcases Martin’s developing skill at writing multi layered characters and dialogue, whilst also dealing with two topics which are more or less at the core of the human condition; Love and human loneliness.

For those of you who do not already know Martin, you’ve probably heard of the hut wrenchingly,  eye poppingly, shove it on a stick and call it bling popular HBO fantasy character drama Game of Thrones. Well, Martin wrote the equally testicle bustingly popular book series it is based on (A Song of Ice and Fire)  and he’s no Dan Brown either; I’m not afraid to admit he’s gor one of the most exciting and elegant writing styles I have ever seen, and is a master of character development, intrigue, and interwoven subplots. It’s no wonder that TIME magazine called our friendly bearded roly poly writer ‘The American Tolkien’. Though as much as I love our old pipe smokin’ fantasy godfather, Martin has a better grip on pacing than Tolkien, and his stories do without page upon page upon page of poems and Tom Bombadil.

Hey-ho-a-merry-ho indeed.

Anyway, ASFL is Sci-Fi, but if that puts you off or makes you think that SF cannot explore deep subjects or have a valid point to make, then I pity you deeply. The story involves what seems to be a planet happily colonised by Humans, who live content lives with the indigenous alien population, the Shkeen. The Shkeen are a race that are physically and mentally similar to humans, but have been in a sort of bizarre cultural stagnation, having not made any technological progress or evolution in tens of thousands of years. Furthermore, the alien’s religion involves ‘joining’ at a certain age with a parasitic organism called a ‘Greeshka’ which allows them to feel euphoria and great love for all creatures along with hinted telepathic abilities. These abilities allow them to link to each other, and feel ‘love’ for everyone on an intense, passionate level. Finally, after a decade they commit suicide by allowing themselves to be absorbed by a mature Greeshka – and it is the afterlife that this Greeshka helps the aliens lead to that is the crux of the tale.

Thrust into the story are two human telepaths, Robb and Lyanna, who called on by the human administrator to investigate as to why humans themselves are seemingly converting to this bizarre alien cult.

The two characters of Robb and Lyanna are very deep, layered individuals who stand out a lot from any of the others of Martin’s previous work, and are good indications of things to come. The two being psychics and lovers have a far deeper understanding of each other than any other non psychic couple can have, with Lya being able to read whole minds and Robb being able to read emotions. This should be able to put them at an advantage, but it seems to be also put a metaphorical gulf between them. From the moment they arrive on the planet and when they first mentally read those aliens going off to commit suicide, they begin to realise that ‘the afterlife’ for these aliens and human converts is some sort of mass/hive mind, and all those in it are in a state of euphoric love. Lyabegins to be tormented by her supposed loneliness. She comes to the conclusion that although Robb loves her, he can never love her on the same level as the aliens and human ‘joined’ do for her. She also feels increasingly isolated as although she can read Robb’s mind and fully understand him, he can never fully understand her.

This says a lot about the whole human condition. How well do we know our partners, our loves? Robb and Lya are psychic, but they still feel the gulf. In reality, us mere mortals have only ‘touching and words’ to show our love for one another. Is it truly possible to ever really know a person? Or are we all just islands?

Obviously this reflects a lot of the situation that Martin was currently in at that point of time of his life; apparantly he was in heavily passionate relationship, but the woman left him for his best friend. It’s more than understandable to recognise some of these themes coming through in the work; indeed, some of the passages read as if it is him simply getting his thoughts down on the paper.

Lya ultimately disappears and submits herself to the Greeshka, becoming one with this supposed ‘mass mind’. She then appears to Robb in a dream, urging him to surrender himself and join her by her side so they can be together again.

The whole passage in which this occurs is a hauntingly sad eulogy to losing a lost one. Even if it’s a dream, Robb almost seems to be having a metaphorical debate within himself about whether to commit this suicide and join her. It’s a thought that has no doubt crossed the minds of many of the recently bereaved and certainly is still resonating with this writer.

Robb ultimately tells dream Lya ‘no’ and that he won’t join her and surrender himself, even if that possibly means nothing but darkness and oblivion and loneliness when he dies. He then proceeds to contradict EVERYTHING he says in the dream the next day with administrator, before forcing himself to leave the planet before he ‘joins’ Lya.

The final section is interesting in that Robb debates to himself as to whether it would be possible for mankind to achieve some other form of ‘oneness’ with their fellow man, whilst retaining their individuality. He notes his main resistance to joining has been his sense of self, something he recognises as being very strong in colder characters like the administrator. The poor guy thinks men have a dual nature of both craving love and keeping it back, unlike the aliens who desire it all the time.  Although he thinks oneness and individulity could be somehow possible and mankind could find some way, he doesn’t come to any solid conclusions, and is left in the arms of another woman – just to soften the surrounding darkness.

We’ll never know if Robb finds his third way, or if he’ll one day return to join with Lya…

This is a tragic, and poignantly sad and beautiful tale that truly deserves more credit and recognition than it has. It’s the point where Martin establishes himself as a true heavyweight, and a deeply romantic writer in the speculative fiction field. It doesn’t take prisoners when dealing with subjects such as loneliness and the human condition. My short summary cannot in any way possible do it justice; I recommend you to read it, you’ll be a bit sad, and feel a bit wiser, but you’ll never be disappointed.