We no longer hear the individual voices of the pilgrims telling their stories, but see them all through the eyes of an observer — poet cybrid of John Keats, whose appearance on the pages of the novel, though it seems at first not entirely clear. Because, in addition to overseeing the pilgrimage to the Shrike, John Keats performs another very important function — connects the two parallel developing story lines, engaging the reader in a big political game, the consequences of which terrible and inescapable.
In the peaceful life of the Human Hegemony bursts of total galactic war, of course, planned in advance, but as with any war, unpredictable in its development. The focus has shifted, in the arena there are other characters, among which stands out the figure of CEO Meina Gladstone. She is the strongest link in the history, the choices she will make, depends the fate of humanity, and stuck in the Sands of Hyperion, the pilgrims are the main figures in her last game, her strengths, her “dark horse”, her personal “gods from the car”. They too will have to choose and risk everything, and they also do not know if I can handle…
In General, in adventure terms, the saturation of steps such as the Fall of Hyperion is still high, but that pleases especially the philosophical component of it does not goes by the wayside. And even more — the moral, ethical, religious questions derive the second novel of Hyperion at an even higher level: it seems that Simmons manages to touch it all, despite the fact that he “Hyperion” touched many interesting and controversial topics. In the sequel, by the way, they find the development. Here is something to think about, something to admire and something to regret. Simmons is not just entertains the reader, it also involves him in the process of solving complex moral and humanistic task, showing how severe and irreparable consequences may be seemingly right decision.
And, of course, despite a generally upbeat finale, “the Fall of Hyperion” is a very sad book. She is full of anxiety for the future of humanity and sounds like a prayer on his fate, it is a place of great love and sorrow, irreparable loss, and finding hope of the hopeless darkness and quiet light the first evening stars. She calls on the vast expanses of the universe and reminds us that there is no value above the home, and our planet, without which people are just vagrants, lost among the many bright but cold worlds.