Orbiting Around Profundity in Samantha Harvey’s 'Orbital'
Millie Harris
Samantha Harvey’s Orbital is a novel that aspires to be profound, but often feels like it’s straining too hard to achieve that goal.
Set over the course of a single day aboard the International Space Station, the novel follows six astronauts of different nationalities as they perform their daily routines, gaze down at the Earth and reflect on their lives. It’s a book that revels in quiet contemplation, asking existential questions about time, perspective and the fragility of human existence. The novel shows that no matter how far they travel, the characters are still tethered — not by gravity, but by the weight of home. However, while Harvey’s poetic prose is undeniably striking, it sometimes feels more focused on sounding profound than actually being so.
There’s no denying the beauty of Harvey’s writing. Her descriptions of Earth from orbit are vivid and cinematic. She captures the strange, almost dreamlike quality of life in space with a delicate touch. It’s about more than just the vastness of space; it’s about physical and emotional distance — the gap between people, between memory and reality, between now and then. The way she contrasts the astronauts’ personal, fleeting thoughts with the vastness of the universe is effective, at times even breathtaking. But this is also where the novel stumbles. It often leans into abstract, philosophical musings that come across as contrived rather than organic, as if the novel is self-consciously aware of its own intellectual ambition. Rather than allowing the setting and characters to naturally evoke a sense of wonder, Orbital insists upon it, filling pages with weighty reflections that don’t always land as intended. While there is beauty in the story, it often feels rehearsed, as though the novel wants to impress awe upon the reader rather than letting them discover awe for themselves.
The lack of a structured narrative only heightens this issue. The novel isn’t driven by plot; — it is a book of shifting thoughts as the astronauts go about their tasks. In theory, this could be deeply immersive. Unfortunately, in practice, it often feels aimless. The astronauts themselves are only loosely sketched, their inner lives hinted at rather than explored in depth. While this could be seen as a reflection of how space travel diminishes personal ego in favour of a grander purpose, it also means that the novel struggles to form an emotional connection with the reader. It is a novel full of thoughts, but not always full of feeling.
Perhaps the biggest issue with Orbital is that it never feels justified in its philosophical musings. It strives to capture the ineffable, to distill the vastness of space and the smallness of human concerns into something profound, but too often it simply feels as though it’s trying too hard. The result is a novel that, while beautifully written, can feel like an extended exercise in stylistic prose rather than a truly moving or thought-provoking piece of work. For readers who enjoy literary fiction that prioritises atmosphere and reflection over action, Orbital can offer moments of beauty and insight. But for those craving a novel that earns its philosophical depth rather than simply declaring it, this book may leave them feeling as though they’ve been floating in circles, waiting for something more substantial to take hold. Orbital is contemplative read, certainly, but one that, for all its beauty, never quite lands with the weight it aims for.
