28 pages • 56 minutes read
Arthur C. ClarkeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
One of the most prominent themes in the story concerns coming of age. Marvin is 10 years old and therefore just on the cusp of adolescence. More importantly, his narrative arc involves his initiation into a more mature worldview—a “worldview” rendered quite literal through the symbolism of Earthrise. In this, Marvin’s story parallels that of humanity itself, which has also undergone a loss of innocence.
Coming-of-age stories typically involve a departure from the child’s normal state of life. At the beginning of the story, Marvin can already sense that something important is happening. He has never been to the upper levels of the lunar colony before, much less outside of it, and this creates in him a sense that something is about to change in his life: He feels “rising excitement” and “expectancy.” His observation of his father’s emotional tension also tells him that this is not just a pleasure trip. However, he struggles to grasp the meaning of his father’s behavior, viewing his own impression that they are running from something as “strange.” Similarly, Marvin considers passing through the Farmlands “fun.” Taken together, the two episodes highlight Marvin’s naivety: He approaches the excursion as a kind of adventure and has difficulty conceiving that anything could be seriously amiss.
Marvin’s break with the innocence of childhood happens when he witnesses his first Earthrise. He sees not only the stunning beauty of the planet but also the residual radioactive effects of the nuclear war. This powerful experience of beauty combined with an equally powerful experience of loss leads Marvin to a sober recognition of what has happened to Earth. The father’s story of what happened and his explanation of the duty Marvin must one day assume punctuate this new understanding. Both the witnessing of Earthrise and the father’s message serve as a rite of passage; it is implicit that every child living in the lunar colony must reckon with the same knowledge of humanity’s history and what it means for their own future responsibilities. Marvin’s response is appropriately serious and shows that Marvin is no longer the innocent boy that he was at the story’s start.
Clarke seems to imply that humanity itself—or what remains of it—has similarly reached a new stage of mature recognition after the destructive folly of its youth. The story closes with Marvin returning to “his people in their long exile” (406). The word choice is significant, as “exile” is typically imposed in punishment for a crime. In conjunction with the story’s title, it also recalls both the exile of the Israelites following the fall of Jerusalem and the exile of humanity from the Garden of Eden—both, in Judeo-Christian tradition, divine responses to transgression. That the colonists experience the destruction of Earth as a self-imposed exile implies that humanity now understands its errors, creating hope that such self-destructive behavior will not recur.
Other than the nameless people who show Marvin and his father to the scout car, Marvin and his father are the story’s only characters. The significance of this becomes apparent when the pair reach their destination. Clarke does not specify how many generations of humans have already lived and died in the lunar colony, but the decayed remnants of an earlier rocket suggest that at least a few generations preceded Marvin’s. The father is therefore passing along a message that was given to him by his own father when he was a boy; his father presumably received the message from his father, and so forth. Marvin too will pass the message to his son, who will pass it to his son, and this will continue until humanity can finally return to Earth. The story thus evokes the intergenerational ties that, just as much as technology, allow human life to continue.
Despite the tight focus on the father-son relationship, however, the actions and motivations of Marvin’s own father remain inscrutable until the climax. Seen through Marvin’s eyes, he is a distant and even aloof figure whose wishes seem alien to Marvin’s own. When Marvin wants to linger amid the Farmlands, he reflects that “Father would not let him” (403); later, he marvels at his father’s “reckless” driving and tenses as his father takes the vehicle over the edge of the plateau. Throughout all of this, Marvin’s father is apparently silent, and when he finally speaks, Clarke presents his dialogue indirectly, maintaining distance between the father and the reader.
This remoteness is not so much a character trait as a symbol. Marvin’s father refers to Earth as humanity’s “legacy,” and the repeated framing of the colonists as “exiles” underscores their deep ties to their ancestral homeland. However, that homeland is now so removed—physically, temporally, and imaginatively—that it has become more of a legend than a reality. Clarke describes the father’s story as one that “until this moment had meant no more to [Marvin] than the fairy-tales he had once been told” (405), but even after hearing it, it remains largely an abstraction: “There were many things he could not understand: it was impossible for him to picture the glowing, multi-coloured pattern of life on the planet he had never seen” (405). There are not even any assurances that preserving Earth’s story will matter. Referring to the idea that one day humanity will resettle Earth, the narrator says simply, “That was the dream” (406). All that is ultimately certain is that the colonists will continue to hold to their “legacy” in the hope that one day it will be a reality. Marvin’s father is adamant that this hope is necessary for survival, but the distance that characterizes the father-son relationship (a proxy for legacy broadly) suggests that the comfort it provides may be meager.
The danger presented by the advancement of technology is another prominent theme. Although Clarke was generally optimistic regarding humanity’s use of technology, in this story Clarke tempers this optimism by showing the catastrophe that can result from misapplications of technology. Moreover, he suggests that it is dangerous to pin one’s hopes on technology, which can support but not replace human endeavors.
Initially, the story appears to celebrate human technological achievement. In 1951, no country had yet succeeded in launching even an unmanned object into orbit; the idea of creating a functioning lunar colony, complete with agriculture and life support systems and vehicles capable of travel to and upon the Moon, would have seemed wildly aspirational. Nevertheless, there are early indications that the story’s lunar colony is no utopia. Marvin likes the Farmlands because they present such a stark contrast to the sterile environment in which he lives: “The smell of life was everywhere, awakening inexpressible longings in his heart; no longer was he breathing the dry, cool air of the residential levels, purged of all smells but the faint tang of ozone” (403). Technology can sustain human life on the Moon, but it is no substitute for immersion in a world full of plants and animals.
As Marvin and his father approach their destination, the ominous signs mount. They pass the remains of a rocket crash and a cairn surmounted by a cross—presumably a grave marker. This suggests what happens when humans place their trust in technology and that technology fails. The reader and Marvin then learn that Earth has been devastated by a nuclear war and rendered uninhabitable for countless generations. Clarke makes a point to describe the radioactive glow that still emanates from the planet—even the part that is in the moon’s shadow—to underscore the scale of the destruction. Therefore, technology has a dual face: It has allowed humans to create a thriving colony on the Moon, but it has also destroyed human life (and presumably much other life) on Earth.
This is why Marvin’s father emphasizes that technology cannot save humanity if humanity loses faith in the promise of Earth. Clarke implies that the spirit in which one engages with technology matters. Ultimately, technology must be secondary to a vision of human happiness and well-being. Technology embraced as an end in and of itself is a soulless dead end, while technology that facilitates humanity’s most destructive impulses is outright nihilistic.
By Arthur C. Clarke