The Symbol of the Cruciform in Dan Simmons' Hyperion
A mystery of resurrection, control and an inescapable curse
Happy Easter!
In honour of the holiday today, I want to share with you a relevant parable from a lesser-known bible: Dan Simmons’ 1989 novel Hyperion — and I’m not being entirely facetious when I compare those two books. This is the same series that offered me words to live by and which I truly believe could improve the world if enough people heard and internalized their message of mindfulness: “Choose again.”
The first novel of the series follows seven pilgrims on their journey to the enigmatic Time Tombs, where each hopes to petition the otherworldly Shrike with their personal wish. Most of the novel is spent learning about the characters’ inciting backstories, which the pilgrims take turns sharing with the group.
These stories are excellent, each raising its own fascinating concepts and themes; I think a few could be published alone as short stories and win awards. But they are even better together, illuminating seemingly disparate parts of this world and asking the pilgrims and readers alike to find parallels and connections and thereby get a sense of what is to come.
First to share his story is Father Lenar Hoyt, a Jesuit priest in obviously terrible health. I won’t spend paragraphs recapping it; please feel free to read a succinct version here.
The Cruciform and the Cross
At the core of Hoyt’s story is a powerful use of symbolism to explore the nature of faith. His predecessor Paul Duré was the narratively perfect person to stumble on apparent evidence of Christianity manifesting apart from humanity, because he is currently serving exile for having falsified exactly such a discovery on another planet. This makes him all the more eager to learn about the strange cruciforms on Hyperion where less fervent explorers might have taken greater caution.
The mystery of how these Christian-like symbols appeared on Hyperion is incredibly intriguing even beyond Duré’s personal desire to see a resurgence of his Church. Is it a coincidence that another religion used the same symbols, down to the ancient stained glass windows in the Bikura’s place of worship? Is it genuine proof of the Christian God?
By far the most striking aspect to me is how Simmons has twisted the biblical promise of eternal life. Despite having no apparent recollection of the human religion, the Bikura eerily mimic John 3:16 by believing and demonstrating that becoming one with the cruciform grants literal, worldly immortality.
Theirs is no paradise, however: the cruciform parasite strips away their humanity with every resurrection and prevents them from traveling beyond a small radius, effectively leaving them trapped as mindless and undying worshipers. Perhaps the greatest irony is that the cruciform prevents their souls from ever reaching true paradise, if it exists, until the Bikura are finally put to rest by nuclear armageddon.
Paul Duré fares little better upon accepting and later trying to remove the parasite at all costs. His ultimate plea to his God, crucifying himself on a tesla tree in hopes of finding true death, only condemns him to seven years of horrifying suffering as the cruciform continually resurrects him only to be burned and electrocuted once more.
Of course, a story is just a story… right? Maybe not, as the reader quickly learns that Hoyt’s extreme physical distress is the result of his carrying two cruciforms on his body (his own and Duré’s), and is only functional at all thanks to repeated injections of ‘ultramorphine’. His plea to the Shrike will be to separate himself from the cruciform, that he and Duré might return to the Cross.
The Future of the Cruciform
One additional bit of stark imagery related to the cruciform comes from the later Hyperion Cantos novels. Between the second and third books, the world of the series changes drastically: among many other things, previous means of instantaneous travel between planets is now impossible and the cruciform’s flaws have been removed, meaning that resurrection no longer comes at the cost of one’s humanity and traveling beyond a small radius no longer causes crippling pain to the host. How are these things related? Well, turns out rapid interstellar travel is still possible; it just requires an acceleration that (technical term:) smooshes a human body into unrecognizable pulp. So would you believe it, billions if not trillions of people now accept the cruciform in order both to travel and avoid that pesky ‘death’.
Suffice to say that Duré got his wish for a resurgence of the Catholic Church, because that institution has incorporated the cruciform parasites as the absolute symbol of personal faith. God’s promise of the afterlife brought into this universe, and many more justifications. Immortal clergy of an all-powerful Church leads to exactly the level of corruption you’d expect, with little to no chance of fresh blood being able to come in and work change.
It’s been three and a half years since I read the final books of the series, but the image of zealous Catholic soldiers repeatedly turning into red soup, confident in their faith and their parasite to resurrect them as they travel, has really stuck with me!
Final Rest
I won’t spoil the fascinating explanation for the cruciform and all today, out of concern for time but also because I think mystery is often just as fun. Consider reading these incredible books to get a closer look!
From a Christian lens, I think the cruciform carries an incredibly strong moral about idolatry: on the basis of its shape and warped (but attractive) function of resurrection, first Duré then a vast swathe of humanity accept the cruciform as representative of and associated with their God. Yet the cruciform ultimately only separates them further from their faith, both physically and spiritually. The secular moral is similar, if leaning towards being Black Mirror-esque. People and societies alike should employ caution when attaching themselves to any shiny new fix-all, whether the danger comes from strings attached or its promises differing from expectation to reality.
I’m currently re-reading Hyperion so may return with another of the pilgrim’s stories at some point; let me know if you enjoyed hearing about this one!
Thanks for reading and until next time ❤
This was really well-written. I especially like your parting thoughts about idolatry--that's what I took out of the cruciform story, too. I really like the story of Paul Duré's flawed quest to revive the Church through finding "real" evidence for divinity on the remote world of Hyperion, and I think that the dark, twisted way in which things unfolded creates a very strong message over how big a mistake that was. While reading that story (and the subsequent development in later novels), I was reflecting on my own fear of death and just how attractive that promise of immortality could be, how convenient, too. To me, the fact that cruciform's physical immortality came with a side-effect of one slowly losing humanity was terrifying and beautiful and such a good choice, narratively, speaking!
Thanks for the thoughtful comment 😊 Yeah and learning the ultimate source and purpose of the cruciforms, they're such a perfect lure for humanity to become more involved with the TechnoCore.