Book Review: Orbital, Samantha Harvey

 Orbital, Samantha Harvey

Started: 17/03/2026

Finished: 11/04/2026

Book of 2026: 7

My rating: 5 /5 stars 

Six astronauts rotate in their spacecraft above the earth. They are there to collect meteorological data and conduct scientific experiments. But mostly they observe. Together they observe our silent blue plant: endless shows of spectacular beauty witnessed in a single day.

Yet although separated from the world they cannot escape its constant pull. News reaches them of the death of a mother, and with it comes thoughts of returning home. The fragility of human life fills their conversation, their fears, their dreams. 

So far from earth, they have never felt more part- or protective- of it. They begin to ask, what is life without earth? What is earth without humanity?

Becca bought this for Max for his 28th birthday. I picked it up after hearing lots of good things. Once again I came to this book at an ideal time. The Artemis II expedition, Project Hail Mary, and so forth. Most of my reading now happens on the tube, so I took my time getting through it, despite its short form. I found myself drawn back to its narration throughout the weeks spent within its pages. 

First published in 2023, Samantha Harvey (professor of MA at Bath) explores the life, work, thoughts, and fears of astronauts (and cosmonauts) in an orbiting space station. The descriptions are mesmerising, a magnificent example of creating intrigue and interest through little plot. Harvey creates a world of feeling, of emotion, of humanity, in the arguably inhuman. It was a beautiful thing to read. 

She explores feelings of togetherness, the closeness of a community brought together both physically and through a shared goal, shared work, shared ambition. The scientists on board are from different worlds, have different beliefs, home lives, experiences, and they leave that all behind to embark on a journey so few can relate to. She explores their memories, their hopes, their grief, their regrets. We see into their thoughts and dreams, we see through their windows into and out of the spacecraft. 

As someone who is not in awe of space exploration, who isn’t excited by news of rockets launching and missions announced, I found myself becoming more endeared to the awesome-ness of the discipline. I find myself excited by the Artemis II news, having seen a glimpse into what this means.

Most importantly though, the reason for this book being so well regarded, and having stuck so much with me, is the writing. I underlined so much, Harvey is an expert crafter. With interesting contemplations, threaded together with delicious ways of describing the earth, space, humans. I think I will return to this book, and I want to read more of Samantha Harvey’s work. 

I underlined a lot, and have them all in my reading journal, but here are a selection of my favourite lines: 

The Milky Way is a smoking trail of gunpowder shot through a satin sky. (2)

When they get back, how will they they even begin to say what happened to them, who and what they were? (12)

The mauve-grey sheen of mid-afternoon (13)

They don’t come into space to be encouraged. They come out of a drive for more, more of everything, more knowledge and humility. Speed and stillness. Distance and closeness. More less, more more. And what they find is that they are small, no, nothing. (26-7)

An animal that does not just bear witness, but loves what it witnesses. (35)

Not to understand its mystery, but to understand that it is mysterious. (52)

Silver pours out and the stars are banished and the dark ocean turns to an instant dawn. (65)

Darkness eats at the sharpness of its line as if the earth is dissolving and the planet turns purple and appears to blur, a watercolour washing away. (67)

They come to see the politics of want. The politics of growing and getting, a billion exploitations of the urge for more, that’s what they begin to see when they look down. They don’t even need to look down since they, too, are part of those extrapolations, they more than anyone - on their rocket whose boosters at lift-off burn the fuel of a million cars. (75)

The height-sick homesick drug of space (102)

We’re windblown leaves. We think we’re the wind, but we’re just the leaf. (106)

We exist now in a fleeting bloom of life and knowing; one finger-snap of frantic being, and this is it. This summery burst of life is more bomb than bud. The fecund times are moving fast. (114)

A human being was not made to stand still. (133)