Mateo Askaripour’s second novel This large hemisphere is set 500 years in our future, in what is now the Northwest Hemisphere, a part of the world where human society has survived massive climate changes but continues to live in a capitalist, bigoted system that is in no way an improvement over what we know today. Ecology is a shadow of what it once was, but there is plenty of fancy technology that allows people to maintain class and racial distinctions. The biggest change, however, is that starting in 2028, some human babies will be born completely invisible to the naked eye. What happens when you are not only insignificant to society and the system, but literally invisible? How does the world mold you into something it can control? How does one define who you are under such circumstances?
The dominant population of the Northwestern Hemisphere (known as DPs) are visible people, people who call the shots, who are seen and recognized and favored by the state and the government that is obviously made up of only them. The invisibles are second-class citizens in an apartheid state where the invisibles are exploited, controlled, and used. They must wear collars that identify and locate them, and sometimes they paint themselves with random colors to make themselves visible. This tells us nothing about their actual race or ethnicity; in fact, we are not explicitly told that all the invisibles are people of color, but it is a safe assumption, since we know that the first invisible child was born to a homeless black woman in New York City, and we know that some of the invisible characters have curly hair.
It’s also, of course, the metaphor that the novel’s entire premise rests on, and it’s not exactly subtle. While it’s clear from the start that Askaripour is writing about America’s vast racial inequality and class divide, the idea of people deemed less important being physically invisible sometimes feels heavy-handed, especially since we get no explanation for how or why random babies were born invisible. The novel’s third storyline mentions a gene that can be passed on (no spoilers here), but that’s all we learn.
Buy book
This large hemisphere
This large hemisphere
Buy this book at:
Although the novel switches between multiple voices and viewpoints, the story is primarily told from the perspective of an unseen character named Sweetmint (or Candace, as the State calls her), a highly intelligent young woman who was abandoned by her only known family member, her brother, though she has since continued to live and work in her forest community of the Unseen without him. Sweetmint has been chosen to be an apprentice to the Great Architect, a genius DP inventor who created much of the technology that has helped human society survive massive climate changes (and also set up elements of the systems that allow DPs to maintain socioeconomic control). Croger Tenmase has created a stable environment for the Northwestern Hemisphere when it was most needed, and is now working toward something he calls the Great Reset. He wants Sweetmint to be part of his work, though neither Sweetmint nor the reader knows what this reset is or whether it will truly benefit all of humanity. Tenmase comes across as an idiosyncratic inventor, but by no means a benign one. He proudly takes credit for it and even boasts of having invented almost everything that has led to the current status quo – a status in which his kind have control over the lives and futures of the Invisibles.
But before Sweetmint can truly understand him or his potentially nefarious plans, the Chief Executive of the Northwest Hemisphere is murdered and the prime suspect is Sweetmint’s missing brother Shanu. Desperate to clear Shanu of the charges, Sweetmint decides to do whatever it takes to find him.
But she is not the only one who is desperate to find Shanu: everyone else wants to find him too, especially the men vying for the suddenly vacant position of Chief Executive. Promises are made, lies are told, power dynamics shift and accusations fly. The manhunt for a “dangerous” invisible man who suddenly represents an entire race of people becomes more and more complex the deeper we delve into the world Askaripour has created, its politics and its twisted, corrupt systems.
This Greater Hemisphere takes place in an environment very much within the realm of our current reality: the privileged few control the flow of information, health, food and technology, ensuring that everyone else cannot escape the stranglehold of capitalism. Processed food, limited resources for healthcare, education and employment ensure that there is very little opportunity for advancement for anyone not born directly into the dominant population. Society is run like a corporation; the head of state is the Chief Executive, and local area managers and directors are designated for that role, not ministers or senators. All lower-level employees are invisibles and are completely marginalized, and condescendingly racist policies are in place designed to prevent them from improving their status, even if, like Sweetmint, they are lucky enough to work with key DPs. The struggle for power continues between certain ruthless members of the dominant population who are always only concerned about their own well-being and are willing to ruthlessly sacrifice the safety and lives of the invisible in order to maintain the precious social imbalances in their favor.
This is an ambitious, sprawling novel with big ideas, set in a big world with complicated (and many) characters, a convoluted plot, and politically charged, valid, and important themes, but at times it can feel a little heavy-handed. The pacing is unfortunately uneven, the dialogue can be a little stilted (but maybe that’s how people will talk in the future?), and the metaphors can be a burden. While we learn a lot about the world-building on certain elements, we’re missing important pieces, like the cause of the birth of the Invisibles, the root of the language they use, or why all food is so brightly artificially colored. The multiple narrative perspectives, the many characters referred to by two different names, the layered plot that feels like the first part of a duology or trilogy, all require a little more work, which wouldn’t be so taxing if the narrative were a little shorter, a little tighter, and just a little more straightforward, allowing it to evolve more smoothly into the political thriller it wants to be.
This large hemisphere is published by Dutton.
