Book Review: “Lilith’s Brood” by Octavia Butler

Lilith’s Brood, a trilogy by Hugo and Nebula Award winner Octavia E. Butler, is a compelling read about saving humankind by genetic manipulation. Manipulation, that is, by an alien species. The Oankali have come to Earth to save a remnant of its population after its near extinction by nuclear war.

The Oankali are starfaring traders. They trade genes with species they find—species with whom they interbreed to the benefit of both them and those they breed with. In appearance they are altogether disgusting looking. In genetic science and understanding human anatomy they are masters—their accomplishments far beyond anything the people of Earth have achieved. They are also humane, if by definition of the word one means motivated always to heal and preserve rather than hurt and destroy. So, when they find the broken remains of humanity they are driven by two impulses. They want to preserve what is left of humanity. But when they study the human genome (by painlessly penetrating the human body with almost microscopic tentacles) they find that humans are genetically defective.

Butler posits humans as having a genetic disposition to two warring characteristics. One, the older genetic impulse, is our hierarchical nature. She never fully defines this but by the end of the trilogy you get the idea. It is the urge to create a dominant order based on factors such as strength, cunning, or gender—leading to violence, greed, and selfishness. The newer genetic strain, one that the Oankali want to preserve, is human intelligence—a creativity that they have not before encountered in their millennially-long existence.

Humankind’s defectiveness both attracts the Oankali and repels them, but one they are compelled to repair. They do so by genetically merging with human beings, something they have done with species they have found in the past. They are traders, exchanging their genes with those of species they find. The children of their interbreeding program will preserve the essence of humanity—the good that we are—while ending human brokenness. Both parties of the trade will benefit—supposedly.

In Butler’s view, the problem with humanity is that intelligence has been made to serve hierarchy. It is a view that I have adopted in my book Archoi, though I have advanced the idea in a different way. And with a different, far more hopeful outlook. In Lilith’s Brood, Butler’s solution is one that is troublesome because what is left after the alien intervention does not look very human at all. Far from it, “unimaginably alien” in the words of the publisher. Lilith’s Brood is a disturbing book, but one well worth reading since it challenges some basic human flaws that we would do well to acknowledge, if not overcome. I recommend it, as long as you can stomach things like having very pleasurable, non-physical (i.e., no actual physical touching) group sex with another human and three worm-like aliens. PG-13 only—Butler is totally non-explicit in her descriptions of these activities. When you finish the book you may share with Lilith, the novel’s brave protagonist, the contradictions of her redemption: helpless anger versus impenetrable hope.