I’ve discovered that the most difficult element of starting a review of any book — especially a trilogy of books that happen to be among my all-time favorites, and at that same time, have been reviewed by countless others before me — is simply where to begin.

In the case of this particular work, I find myself first needing to digress somewhat, back to when I first discovered the renowned author that is Octavia E. Butler, whose work would not only become one of my most beloved, but also which I have read and re-read over the years without tiring. Through it, I’ve found inspiration for elements of my own literary work.  

My cousin gave me the suggestion after learning of my love of science fiction. Before that time, I had never heard of the first female African American sci-fi author to have achieved any kind of widespread notoriety.  And it was longer still, before I picked up my first book penned by her, entitled Wild Seed: a tale of humans with super-powered mutations, altogether part of a greater saga, with fascinating and often disturbing themes of what it means to be human. This first foray into Butler’s work furthered my interest in her bibliography, and in time, I picked up a book entitled Dawn, the first in her Xenogenesis trilogy.

It quickly became a tale that would hook me in a way that no other had before.

One thing that any reader must understand about Butler’s work is how disturbing it often can be, on one level or another.  In fact, it would be important to keep in mind a rule of note: If it isn’t disturbing, it’s not Butler.  And this trilogy about humankind’s relationship with an alien race that saves them from certain death for a price, will be, for most, both enlightening, and yet, anything but comfortable to read.

In an indeterminate time in the future (or rather, an alternate timeline), Earth’s nations erupt into nuclear war, the results of which renders the planet uninhabitable and dooms the human race to a slow, painful death … that is until humanity is rescued by the Oankali, an extraterrestrial race that fortuitously arrive at our world before the survivors of the war could be finished off.  The story of Dawn maintains a tight focus on Lilith Iyapo, one of the rescued humans who is healed and brought aboard the Oankali ship with the rest of Earth’s remaining human population.

At first kept in a near-featureless room and subjected to endless questions and tests, the Oankali eventually show themselves to Lilith and reveal their plans for her, and ultimately humanity.  Lilith is chosen to guide the first humans who will be returned to Earth, which the Oankali have repaired (with some necessary alterations), and begin civilization anew alongside their alien benefactors.  But the Oankali want much more than this, as they are a race of “traders,” who, for lack of a better word, trade themselves—that is, their genetic uniqueness with the genetics of other species they encounter in their interstellar travels, forever evolving and avoiding detrimental genetic stagnation.

The Oankali, as a species, are master genetic engineers, who can read and manipulate DNA with the same ease with which we read and manipulate words on paper, to the point where they use very little practical technology, replacing it all with biotech—that is all “machines” that they use are biological entities: either genetically-engineered creatures or extensions of their ship, which is itself a living entity that exists in symbiosis with them. 

Lilith quickly learns that what the Oankali offer humanity, however, humanity is reluctant (to say the least) to follow along with, however, for two reasons: the first is how frighteningly alien the Oankali appear to human eyes, to the point where many would describe them as “hideous.”

The second reason is that the Oankali mixing with humanity to achieve their ends, through a type of mediated sexual reproduction accomplished through their third gender called ooloi, would mean the ultimate extinction of the human race as it is known, as the children born from these unions, though inheriting the best of both worlds, are, disturbingly, not human. But because the Oankali, sensing a genetic contradiction in humankind that led to behaviors that nearly resulted in them eliminating themselves, attempt to force humankind into the trade, males and are females are unable to reproduce by ordinary means, only allowing children through unions mediated through an ooloi.

Though some humans capitulate, or are fine with this arrangement, the majority of the remaining humans are embittered against the Oankali for this violation, which the aliens rationalize as saving us from ourselves. But in time, over the trilogy’s course, the rift is slowly healed due to the actions of two of Lilith’s hybrid children.

Butler’s trilogy is, from beginning to end, nothing less than a spellbinding literary masterpiece of philosophy, anthropology and worldbuilding that I could easily go from tangent to tangent in describing just how many ways it will fascinate any sci-fi afficionado.  There is so much to go into that keeping the plot overview focused on just the first book was something of a chore. 

To complete the circle with as few spoilers as possible, Adulthood Rites and Imago,, the second and third books in the trilogy, dive even deeper into the relationship between humanity and Oankali, shifting to Lilith’s children—chiefly Akin, the first hybrid male, and then Jodahs, the first hybrid ooloi, both of whom become responsible for affecting fundamental changes to the relationship between humans and Oankali, in which there is a great deal of resentment on the part of humanity, whose forced sterility without the help of the aliens, engenders hatred among many. 

Interestingly, despite the resentment of humanity, the Oankali are never evil. They are, in fact, a race to whom hatred, bigotry, and cruelty is utterly alien, even frightening, and the very acts of which would, due to the depths of their biological “trade” actually hurt them.  They are gentle and kind creatures, despite their disconcerting and even frightening appearance. However, some do have a tendency towards being condescending to humans (one particular ooloi comes to mind, for whom Lilith develops a particular dislike), and often treat them as children, or even second class citizens. But this is not due to prejudice or any sense of superiority. Rather, it is simply because they are not Oankali, whose biology allows them to be able to perceive, change, and utilize their environment and technology in ways that humans cannot, without major alterations to their biochemistry.

And humans who cast their lot with their alien benefactors, however, fare little better than those who resist. The biological changes that the Oankali induce within them in the trade create unexpected side effects, with sometimes unpleasant results, such as an inability to express common physical intimacy with their human mates, such as holding hands, without an ooloi acting as a mediator. And it is these conundrums and complexities that makes Butler’s trilogy into such an exploration of themes that question what it means to be human, as well as a commentary on oppression and discrimination, both of which, along with the loss of autonomy, were prevalent in Butler’s formative years, and much of her life, as many still-extant generations of African Americans can relate to such issues.  Xenogenesis provides poignant allegory for these things, without becoming preachy or too on-the-nose. 

The Oankali became one of the most memorable alien races from any work of sci-fi literature, with their alien appearance alone; vaguely humanoid, but covered in sensory tentacles where eyes or hair should be, which serve as organs of sight, hearing, and smell, as well, as providing a toxic sting that they use in self-defense. Altogether, their similarity to gray-skinned, human-shaped sea anemones, makes it easy to see how humans at first react with shock and deathly terror at the first sight of them, then easily fall prey to the chemical manipulations they can induce in us, in order to promote changes or even make experiences pleasurable to such an unnatural degree that most humans struggle to not see this control as some kind of violation. 

Then there is their nearly all biological “technology,” down to the requirement of chemical cues to even open doors or cabinets. Few races in any world of science fiction have aroused so much fascination in both myself and other readers.  There is so much more that could be said about them, but not without significant spoilers. But suffice it to say that Butler puts together a most fascinating species in the Oankali, and that fascination only deepens with each successive book.

This leads to something that surprised me, which is how, after thoughtful consideration—and I freely admit that this may be born of bias after the four or five times that I have read this trilogy — I have come to realize that there is actually nothing that comes to mind that I could consider to be a drawback to this story overall. Perhaps others would not view it as so perfect, but I struggled to think of one weakness in plot, characterization, mechanics, or overall story, but found myself unable to come up with a single thing. In my humble opinion, Butler’s tapestry of human-alien relations is practically perfect to me, woven with care and detail in every thread, from worldbuilding to characterization and thematic integrity.  The alienness of the Oankali, the fascination, revulsion, and resentment they engender in the human cast, and the evolution of the hybrids into a bridge that crosses the seemingly impassable gulf between humanity and their extraterrestrial benefactors creates a tale that is as consistently astonishing as it is disturbing.

Xenogenesis describes evolution, both biological and relational—both processes that we all go through, kicking and screaming, if need be. And humanity is forced into these changes towards its ultimate destiny beside its alien saviors, for better or for worse.  It is a tale of discrimination, loss of autonomy, and bridges of understanding built in the most unlikely of places, and through a dynamic that easily displays how Butler earned her place among science fiction’s greatest and most original and talented authors.  Any reader who is looking for a tale that will truly stay with them after reading, for both better and worse, cannot afford to forego curling up with this work of sci-fi excellence!

10/10; Don’t miss!