Buddha for a new world: Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny

As has been previously established, my favourite book is Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny.  Published in 1967, it won the Hugo award for best novel in 1968 and was also nominated for the Nebula award.  In it, Zelazny re-imagines the tale of Buddha in a science fiction setting.  Set on a far-away planet that was long ago colonised by people from Earth, it is a journey both exciting and spiritual.

The original colonists on the planet possessed an amazing array of technology, not least of which is reincarnation: they have the ability to transfer a person’s consciousness from one body to another (even a non-human body).  Zelazny completely skirts the morality of the issue.  He mentions in passing that they are vat-grown and also about egg and sperm banks, growth tanks, and “body lockers”  — paraphernalia of the trade.  He passes no comment on it, though, presenting it merely as an accepted part of the society.  If this book were written today, it would probably be very different, as things like GM foods, stem cell research, and cloning are much more in the public (and political) consciousness than they were when the book was first published.  And, of course, if the Church and other opponents were opposed to abortion, they would have an absolute field day with the notion of growing entire people solely to be used as host bodies for other people’s consciousnesses.  However, while on the one hand Zelazny ignores even the existence of a moral debate on the issue, on the other hand he has a simple, elegant justification for the existence of this technology in his world’s society: Hinduism.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” – Arthur C. Clarke

As I said, the original colonists had very advanced technology (as you would expect, considering that they crossed the void of space to establish a colony on another planet).  Gradually, however, many of those original colonists and some of their chosen few (usually progeny of theirs) came to hoard this technology for themselves, and the current technological level of the planet’s society is actually quite low (pre-industrial revolution it seems, more or less).  What advanced technology they do possess (most notably the reincarnation machines), they only operate; they don’t understand how it works.  The original colonists, meanwhile, have set themselves up as the Hindu pantheon of gods over the planet, utilising their technology to give themselves the appearance of having great powers and thus cow the general populace into serving them.  Sam, our hero (and also one of the First, as they’re called), takes a dislike to this and takes on the role of Buddha in opposition to the gods.

*  *  *  *  *  *

At this point, perhaps it is time for a Reader’s Digest condensed version of Hinduism and Buddhism, for those who aren’t familiar with their doctrines.  Amongst the different sects of Hinduism, there are something like a grand total of 330,000 gods (yes, you read that right) of one stripe or another.  Generally, they are usually considered to be different aspects or manifestations of one central god.

In ideological terms, most people, at least, are familiar with the notions of Karma and reincarnation.  Be good in this life, and you rack up Karma points and will be reborn to a higher station in your next life.  However, this is not the full story.  In the culture of India, there is a strict, regimented caste system.  It is not known definitively how this originated, but it is intrinsically woven into the fabric of Hinduism (some Christians and Muslims also adhere to it, but the caste system — and of course Hinduism — pre-date either of those beliefs by a country mile) and the concept of Karma: whatever caste you were born into, you deserve it because of something you did in a previous life.  Behave well within the strictures of your caste in this life, and you will be rewarded with birth into a higher station in the next; fail to do this, and you risk being reborn into a lower caste, or even as an animal or insect.  “Do as you’re told, like a good peon, or you’ll come back in the next life as a toad!”

[As an aside, this is why some embrace the doctrine of ahimsa, refusing to kill anything, even sweeping the ground in front of them so as to not step on any bugs: you never know if that ant you just crushed was one of your ancestors reborn.]

Thus are the lower castes — who vastly outnumber those above them in the caste pyramid — kept in their proper place by the higher castes.  Modern Indian society is starting to shrug out of the caste yoke, in the bigger cities at least, but there’s a long way left to go.

In around the 5th or 6th century BC (or BCE, if you prefer), there arose a prince named Siddhartha (in a kingdom in what would eventually become Nepal), the man who would eventually become Buddha.  He was extremely sheltered by his parents, never even being allowed to see anyone sick or elderly; people weren’t even allowed to discuss anything related to illness or aging in his presence.  He was kept locked away in the palace, surrounded by young, healthy, beautiful people, completely ignorant of the outside world.  One day, though, he saw an old man, and things snowballed from there.  Long story short, he eventually became an ascetic monk, living in the wilderness on his own, spending all his time meditating, sometimes not eating for days, seeking enlightenment.  Ultimately he achieved this, of course, teaching his followers to follow the middle path of moderation in all things (rejecting not only over-indulgence but also under-indulgence).  It was his hope that all of his followers would achieve enlightenment and, when they eventually died, ascend to Nirvana and thus – and here’s the main point – escape the cycle of reincarnation. For if one can escape that cycle — if you no longer have to worry about what you might be reborn as in your next life — then you are not limited to the strictures of your caste or beholden to those of a higher station than yourself.  Thus Buddha’s teachings were not simply a different belief system, but were actually a revolution (if a peaceful, spiritual one) against the very foundations of Indian society: no one is better than anyone else, all are equal, anyone is capable of achieving Nirvana, you are not bound to this life and this cycle of rebirth, therefore make of this life what you will.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Sam, then, undertakes to do the same on his world, becoming a spiritual leader and teaching people to let go of the need to be reborn and instead embrace eternal peace.  This, of course, puts him in direct opposition to the self-styled Gods, who control reincarnation through the priesthood (they also have technology to “read” your memories from the last few months and use this to “judge” people coming in for reincarnation, thereby deciding in what sort of body [beautiful or ugly, carrying any deformities or infirmities, etc.] you will be reborn, or even *if* you will be allowed to be reborn).  In Sam’s case, though, the world’s gods are rather more present and active than the ones Buddha was acting against, and so Sam’s revolution is ultimately a more temporal one.

That being the case, there are parts of this book that are quite exciting.  However, there are also passages devoted to Buddhist learning, and they are slotted seamlessly into the narrative.  It is these that elevate this book from the merely good to the sublime: not only that Zelazny does it, but that he does it so well.  His prose is truly beautiful.  The worlds he creates and the characters that inhabit them are perfectly formed.  Had he written books that were more fiction rather than sci-fi/fantasy, he undoubtedly would have been hailed as one of the leading lights of his generation.  Instead, he was just one of the greats of his genre (winning the Hugo award six times and the Nebula three times), and I must content myself with being his apostle and proselytising the masses in his good name.

Recommended further reading by Roger Zelazny: A Night in the Lonesome October; the first 5 Amber books; Unicorn Variations (one of his collections of short stories).

Speaking of which, the next book I’ll (probably) review is Song for the Blue Ocean by Carl Safina.  It’s a much bigger one, so you’d better get cracking.

All the best,

M

P.S. Many thanks to Wikiperdia for helping solidify the background and historical information for me.