The Sparrow By Mary Doria Russell Review

Through all of this, Emilio prayed. He begged God for understanding, for relief, for a sign. No answer came. Only silence. And then, slowly, his faith curdled into something else. Not atheism—that would have been too easy. It was a cold, furious hatred of God. He had loved God with all his heart, and God had let this happen. He decided that God was not good, or loving, or just. God was a monster, and Emilio would no longer kneel.

In the year 2019, a remarkable thing happened. A vast, powerful radio signal was detected from the vicinity of Alpha Centauri, our closest neighboring star system. It was not random noise. It was music—complex, beautiful, mathematically elegant—and it could only have come from an intelligent species. Humanity, it seemed, was not alone.

Emilio was a brilliant, charismatic man with a dark, beautiful history. Born a poor, illiterate child in La Perla, San Juan’s toughest slum, he had been rescued and educated by the Jesuits. Now he was their star, a genius of languages and a man of profound, joyful faith. When he heard the music of the stars, he heard God’s invitation. the sparrow by mary doria russell

Marc and D.W. died in the initial violence. George and Anne were captured and killed. Jimmy Quinn, whose sanity had always been fragile, snapped. He sabotaged their only communication device and then, in a final act of madness, murdered Sofia and left her for dead before vanishing into the wilderness.

And Emilio Sandoz, the man who had loved God and been destroyed, the man who had been tortured and raped, the man who had decided God was evil—Emilio Sandoz took the child and strangled it to death with his ruined hands. Through all of this, Emilio prayed

The Society of Jesus, ever the explorer of frontiers, saw a mission. They secretly financed an expedition. Emilio would not go alone. He gathered a family of kindred spirits: Anne and George Edwards, the married scientists who first detected the signal; Jimmy Quinn, a brilliant but tormented engineer; Sofia Mendes, a fierce and wounded computer expert; Marc Robichaux, a veteran physician; and D.W. Yarbrough, a young, earnest technician.

Their ship, the Giulia , was not a sleek starship. It was an asteroid, hollowed out and fitted with a makeshift propulsion system. The journey would take decades by Earth’s clock, but due to relativistic effects, only a few years would pass for the crew. They were all volunteers. They were all, in their own ways, searching for something—truth, redemption, wonder, or God. Only silence

The climax is not a battle. It is a conversation.

For a while, it was a dream.

Then, everything fell apart.

The Sparrow is a story about first contact, but it is really a story about the silence of God, the nature of evil, and the terrifying, beautiful, broken miracle of human love. It asks the oldest question: If God is good, why do the innocent suffer? And it dares to answer: I don’t know. But I will sit with you in the darkness anyway.