The publisher’s description on NetGalley of If We Cannot Go at the Speed of Light says “From Korean science fiction author Kim Cho-yeop, a stunning and poignant collection of literary speculative fiction stories that explore the complexities of identity, love, death, and the search for life’s meaning, perfect for fans of Exhalation and The Paper Menagerie.” Unfortunately, as far as I’m concerned, the author (Kim Choyeop with no hyphen, as the book cover and https://library.ltikorea.or.kr/ transliterate her name, 김초엽) has a way to go before her works rise to the levels of Ted Chiang and Ken Liu, at least as far as they’re translated here by Anton Hur. However, some of the stories in this collection do include some interesting speculation, and engage this reader’s emotions.
The first two stories in the book, “Symbiosis Theory” and “Spectrum,” were mildly interesting, but felt remote and detached. The first is about how an artist could have painted scenes from a planet, years before it was detected. The second is about a woman’s solo first contact with aliens, but her tale is believed by nobody but her grandchild, years later. These are stories that could potentially have interested me a great deal, but they just didn’t hit for me. Possibly I’m missing some cultural context that would have made them more meaningful to me, if I’d been aware.
The titular story is told from the viewpoint of a functionary who needs to get a woman to leave a space station where she’s been waiting for a ship to take her to her family. She tells him how she chose long ago to miss the ship that was originally supposed to take her to meet them, so she could give an important presentation. The man is mildly frustrated with her and also mildly sympathetic, and he ultimately appears to make a choice that he doesn’t quite admit. It’s not exactly a subtle story, yet I’m not sure what the author is trying to say with it.
“The Materiality of Emotions” is a story that has a really interesting premise, about Emotional Solids, which are sold by a company so that consumers can hold these emotions and experience them as desired. It features a protagonist who actually tells the reader about his actions and emotions, getting frustrated with his depressed girlfriend who insists on keeping negative Emotional Solids with her, talking with her and attempting to be a good boyfriend. However, once again, this story doesn’t seem to go anywhere.
When I reached “Archival Loss” it was a relief. Finally, an engaging protagonist with a real problem that she actually addresses! She makes progress with her situation and with her emotional life! The SF premise is that people who are dying can make recordings of their minds, that their loved ones can meet with long after they’re gone. The protagonist, who is facing pregnancy for the first time and has mixed feelings about that, wants to talk with her late, emotionally distant mother about her experiences, only to find that her mother’s Mind is inaccessible. She works to find out why and to try to get the situation reversed, and comes to understand her mother much better as a person as a result of those efforts. I found this story very satisfying.
“Pilgrims” is an interesting story. It’s written as a long letter from Daisy, who is leaving a very peaceful village for a pilgrimage, as all teens do when they’re at the cusp of adulthood. Not everyone returns from these pilgrimages. Daisy, more determined and curious than most, finds out more about these pilgrimages, and their purpose, and the origin of the village, and decides she’ll go on her pilgrimage anyway. It’s an open-ended story, and yet it feels much better than the earlier stories that seemed incomplete, because we get a story-within-a-story that does have answers, and because Daisy makes a strong decision.
“My Space Hero” is the last story of the collection. It’s told by Gayun, a woman who’s worked her whole life to be an astronaut, like her aunt before her, who was lost on an early mission. Being an astronaut requires extensive body modifications, because of the Tunnel travel that they use. Gayun finds out a shocking secret about her aunt’s loss, which reminds me a little of a subplot in Vonda McIntyre’s novel Superluminal. However, despite this deeper understanding, Gayun perseveres in working toward his dream. It’s a bittersweet story, but Gayun’s determination and eventual reconciliation with her emotions and decisions leave it, and this collection, on a good note.
If We Cannot Go at the Speed of Light, by Kim Choyeop, 192 pages, will be published April 28, 2026.
Content warnings: Offscreen deaths and references to wars and violence, mental health issues, struggles with pregnancy, references to suicide.
Disclaimer: I received a free eARC of this book from the publisher via NetGalley for review.
