Orbital review; do we live in a post-literate society?
Final review of Orbital, the Financial Times writes about a "post-literate society"
Hello and happy Sunday!
The book discussion for Orbital was one of our most opposing, considering we had ratings for the book ranging from 2 stars to 4.5 in the group. It’s one of the examples where knowing something about the book beforehand helped: I knew people complained about its lack of plot, and I knew many considered it an essay on environmentalism. So, I didn’t walk in blindly. I expected the lyricism because what else are you going to do with over 100 pages of six fictitious characters in outer space?
Many of the group members felt it dragged on and didn’t have a point. I am not one to try and change people’s opinions, and part of me wanted to play the devil’s advocate in the discussion. But a bigger part of me enjoyed the book and its experience: I felt that every time I came back to it (and I did read it in a few reading sessions, not one sitting), I was looking forward to it; it felt like escape inside a meditative capsule that orbits the earth, like suspension from reality; which to my mind is what all reading should feel like, but it doesn’t always happen.
The only other person in the group who rated it with four stars said she appreciated the opposing views the writer could attribute to the characters. Just when one point of view was being explored and exposed, another character was bringing pertinent and challenging arguments for the opposite point. The way she put it was that she appreciated “the elasticity of the writer’s mind” who could so convincingly take two opposing views of the same topic and make both compelling.
Funnily enough, but in line with the above, I could understand the group members who rated it two stars. Their arguments stood as valid as those for the book’s success: the tension built in the so-called story was subtle and implied, rather than the in-your-face conflicts that would have kept a reader on the edge of their seat. But maybe not all books are meant to ‘grab’ and ‘grip’ the reader. Because I have friends and former colleagues in the Philippines, I felt the tension build by describing the typhoon forming over the archipelago, which the astronauts observed while orbiting around the Earth.
I have heard the question “Why was this book the winner of the Booker Prize?” a lot ever since its announcement as the winner. And after reading it, I can see why. Despite its main focus being on environmental issues, the book tackles more than one topic with elegance and deftness: loneliness (we follow all six characters inside the Space Station, but we zoom in on their thoughts and their feelings of removal from Earth and their families), belonging (nothing from their surroundings is welcoming, and they’re far from home. However, they find their companions to be part of the living organism that they all constitute for the duration of their mission), grief (one of the characters loses her mother while being in space), the sense of things ending (they’re all looking forward for the orbit to end, the day to end, their mission to end).
The complex themes and motifs are such an admirable feat for such a short novel, and I can’t imagine a ‘traditional' novel being able to tackle the same variety with such versatility.
The prose and sentence structure were perfect, and some of the wording left me in awe. My absolute favourite image and quote from the book was the description of Alaska as the Station floated above it.
Far off to the left is the smooth, crisp bonbon of ice that marks Alaska. A cloud-free confection of crackable white. When the cloud accrues further south, the whole of the view is a liquid swirl of ice floe and cloud.
Page 133 in the Kindle edition of 148 pages in total
Orbital, by Samantha Harvey
The way the sentence rolls off the tongue as you’re reading it out loud gave me the same delicious feeling as the comparison it offers with a dessert. The end of the book is rich in alliterations and sentences, and to me, felt just like a feast that ends scrumptiously with a very satisfying pudding.
Has literacy peaked?
Someone in my circle of readers is currently reading a book called Why Nations Fail, and though she admits it’s slow going, there seem to be many things that explain some of the happenings of the world we live in. I have had the book on my radar for a while, and I think if there’s ever a time I should read it, it’s now. I stayed away from the news since the Romanian failed elections in December. However, some things still find their way to me; the world watches in horror as the U.S. is becoming the dystopian cyber-punk society we thought we’d never see in our lifetime.
The pandemic and how it triggered the global economic and political crisis we find ourselves in is insufficient for an explanation. Multiple factors had to converge, and the rise of technology, connectivity, globalisation and AI are among them.
In this context, I recently came across an article from the Financial Times that has got me thinking. It’s called “Are We Becoming a Post-Literate Society?”; the title alone is eye-opening (scroll to the bottom to access the article directly).
The article starts with:
“Human intelligence,” the cultural critic Neil Postman once wrote, “is among the most fragile things in nature. It doesn’t take much to distract it, suppress it, or even annihilate it.”
Sarah O’Connor, Financial Times
As someone who has recently learned to accept and ‘self-diagnose’ that I have a dopamine addiction (like 99% of us do), I wholeheartedly agree with the above statement. As someone who frequently finds herself struggling for the word on the tip of her tongue or the idiom that doesn’t come quite as quickly as it used to and who blamed it, as anyone would, on age, I am realising it’s more than that (clarification: I don’t think I am that old, but I am older than I was yesterday!).
Constant distractions, exposure to subpar online content, oversimplification of how we speak, chasing the punchline, the click, and the reactions have led to us losing focus or interest in a phrase with more than two subordinate clauses. Even literature is simpler and punchier, and it’s being encouraged to be so to accommodate today’s reader.
The article focuses on the results of recent OECD1 assessments of adult literacy skills across 312 countries, which reveal a troubling pattern:
Improvements: Only Finland (+15 pts) and Denmark (+9 pts) saw literacy gains since 2013
14 countries maintained stable levels
Declines: Lithuania, Korea, New Zealand, and Poland dropped ≥20 literacy points.
Youth Progress: England’s 16-24 age group showed literacy gains despite global declines.
The survey assessed 160,000 adults aged 16-65, representing 673 million people across participating nations.
Perhaps most alarmingly, in the United States, 30% of adults read at a level expected of a 10-year-old child. This statistic is no surprise. I am sure I am not the only one who has come across interviews with people on the street who think Europe is a country and other such examples.
The article quotes Andreas Schleicher from the OECD, who suggests that our evolving relationship with technology might be to blame. We're increasingly drawn to bite-sized content - short social media posts and video clips - rather than engaging with longer, more complex texts. This shift affects our reading habits and our ability to navigate diverse perspectives and complex ideas.
The consequences of declining literacy extend far beyond our personal reading lives. There is a rise in clichés and stereotypes in public discourse, more conflict and name-calling in debates, online or in person, less accountability for inconsistencies in public statements, and vilification of fact-checking or progressive thinking.
The article isn't all doom and gloom. It highlights how strong education systems (like Finland's) and targeted improvements (as seen in England for 16-24-year-olds) can make a difference. There's also an intriguing discussion about the role of AI. While tools like ChatGPT might help some workers perform better, there's a risk that those with poor literacy skills could become overly reliant on AI-generated content.
I am surprising myself this year: since the beginning of the year, I have read eight books (more details about them next week). But I am trying to suppress my holier-than-thou attitude because quantity doesn’t mean anything. I am reading a book I wouldn’t have touched in my university years because of its writing; “It’s not literature”, I used to hear my friends excuse their readings. Neither is this book. And yet, I find it entertaining and distracting enough that I’d rather read than doom-scroll, so it serves its purpose well.
I am again reminded of a dear friend, Professor of Literature, who “prescribed” classic literature for treating depression. He said that there is no crisis or ennui that humankind can experience that the classics haven’t tackled and written about at length. In today’s world, a good Dickensian turn of the phrase no longer feels old and dusted but refreshing and enlightening.
A shift in perspective is always healthy and sobering. Whether it’s Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations or Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, the range of human emotions and experiences stays essentially the same. What served as a life philosophy for stoics and hobbits can work perfectly for someone stepping into 2025 with hope and apprehension.
The OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development) is a global education policy architect and data-driven analyst in this context.
Here are all the countries that were assessed.
EU Member States 🇪🇺
• Austria
• Belgium (Flemish Region)
• Croatia
• Czechia
• Denmark
• Estonia
• Finland
• France
• Germany
• Hungary
• Ireland
• Italy
• Latvia
• Lithuania
• Netherlands
• Poland
• Portugal
• Slovakia
• Spain
• Sweden
Non-EU OECD Countries 🌍
• Canada
• Chile
• Israel
• Japan
• Korea
• New Zealand
• Norway
• Switzerland
• United States
Non-OECD Economies
• Singapore
• United Kingdom (England)
I read Orbital last month. Like you, I was entranced by the lyrical writing style. Her descriptions of the earth’s landmass and atmosphere do the same thing as a BBC documentary: inspiring reverence for the beauty of the natural world. In particular, I appreciate her description of the neon colored auroras as seen from outer space (I was unaware of this phenomenon and had to look it up on YouTube). Overall though, I found the characters thinly written, there is very little plot, and the stakes are too low to inject tension into the story. I also found the philosophical meditations too superficial. I think the book would have worked better as a series of poems.