Earth is the Universe

Good Omens, Terra Ignota, The Cosmere, The Library at Mount Char, The Raven Tower, Tolkien and more

For All Intents and Purposes

Why do so many stories insist on equating the Earth with the Universe? Why does the Christian God need to have created HD1, a galaxy over 13 billion light years away, to exact specifications alongside everything to do with our planet? How can so many threats, originating on Earth and thwarted by the heroes at the last minute, truly threaten such distant stars?

It's by no means a new question, particularly when applied to religion – but the more speculative fiction I read, the more frustrated I've become with this trope. I've written more than once about my love for vast and mysterious worldbuilding; the feeling that there are always more secrets and insights out there. This trope feels like a cheap attempt to up the narrative stakes to the maximum level, and always falls short because our minds simply aren't built to handle large numbers. I don't think there's a person on Earth who can truly conceptualize the distance to our sun, let alone the voids between galaxies and superclusters.

Creation of the Universe in Good Omens, Concept Art by Grant Bonser

Anthropocentrism and God(s)

Along with the reasoning about dramatic tension above, the obvious answer is that we perceive ourselves as central to the universe and (arguably) have yet to be disabused of the notion that the cosmos were made for us and us alone.

Good Omens does an incredible bit on this if you haven't seen it (or want a good chuckle):

"It's the universe, not just some fancy wallpaper!" Thanks Crowley, guess that's the post done for me.

But as that scene demonstrates, it is the vastness of the cosmos that makes this frustrating to me in many stories. There are plenty of fantasy stories (including Tolkien's and many Dungeons & Dragons games) which have omnipotent beings watching over the single world they created and the stars in the sky might as well be literal wallpaper.

Books like The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins and Monster by A. Lee Martinez, on the other hand, make it clear in the text that the whole of the universe as we (don't) know it is at stake – despite all the action taking place right here on our little marble.

If you've been reading here for any length of time, you might have perceived that Mount Char is my gold standard for speculative fiction worldbuilding in most cases. Here though, it's the primary offender. (Spoilers in the next two paragraphs.)

Ablakha, Father, Adam Black, God – Generated with AI

Mount Char establishes that the world as we know it is the 'Fourth Age' of the universe – very much emulating Tolkien, albeit with some Lovecraft thrown in – which only began when Ablakha overthrew the previous god of the universe and introduced such luxuries as light and pleasure to our reality. Toward the end of the book, his adopted daughter Carolyn succeeds in taking over the joint – part of which necessitates hanging a new sun in our sky.

It would be so easy for the book to just say that Earth and its solar system are the extent of the world. There has been zero hint that Ablakha spends any time or focus anywhere other than Earth, nor does Carolyn as she settles in. Yet she literally zooms in through the universe to hang the sun in the right place, establishing pretty clearly that it is just a silly big wallpaper.

Monster doesn't involve a god per say, but has a single object upon which all reality depends and which plays an important role in the plot. Hope any alien life out there wasn't angry that their fate across the universe depended on some good ol' human perseverance.

Local Gods

Perhaps the reason this bothers me to such an extent is that Brandon Sanderson's Cosmere offers such a great look at the alternative: the Shards are beings on the level of gods, yet are bound by time and space. Their influence on worlds, whether alone like Endowment on Nalthis or contested like Ruin and Preservation on Scadrial, is an incredible source of storytelling.

(Left to Right) Cultivation, Odium and Honor, by Mushimallo

I could also imagine stories like Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower, where gods could travel alongside their followers to explore the darkness of space. The Myriad in that novel even arrives on Earth from space, a beautiful example of worldbuilding that embraces awe and mystery.

Perhaps I just like gods with some character in my stories! Can a truly omnipotent, omnipresent being really have a personality or story?

The Outbound Path

So, why did I put the Terra Ignota playlist at the top if the post is just about done and I haven't brought up those books at all? Well, turns out this has all been a bit of a prequel to my next post, which will build on these ideas to discuss a piece of snail mail the size of the universe. (Thankfully hand-delivered, the amount of stamps would be a nightmare.)

Thanks for reading, until next time <3