Expedition is, without qualification, the single most inspired visual work of science fiction ever produced by a single artist. What Barlowe set out to do had never been attempted before: to illustrate the various ecosystems of a fictional alien world. As the child of two natural history illustrators, he was, perhaps, better equipped than most to tackle this daunting task.

And what a task it must have been. The resulting 192-page book is a lavish tour-de-force, dripping color off every page and chock full of illustrations, sketches and all manner of fascinating descriptions. That the vast majority of alien fauna depicted here is improbable isn't the point--the fact that they are (at least at first blush) plausible, and perhaps more importantly, decidedly alien, is.

The conceit of this book is that it's an artifact from 300 years into our future, a time when humanity has poisoned and polluted our world so that only a handful of grotesque, mutant species remain to eke out a living in the toxic environment. Arriving in the nick of time to save us from ourselves, the alien Yma now manage the environmental restoration of the Earth, even as they attempt to teach us how to do so on our own. As part of humanity's education, a joint mission is launched to Darwin IV, so that the importance of biodiversity can be witnessed firsthand. Barlowe, an artist, is a member of the mission charged with capturing the elusive spirit of the world that is beyond mere photographs. As framing devices go, it is a bit heavy-handed and pretentious, and is easily the weakest part of the book. Once the artist descends to the surface of Darwin IV, however, things kick into high gear and don't let up.

Barlowe gives careful consideration to the ecology and evolutionary adaptations of each species here, often drawing on Earth analogs to enhance the verisimilitude of each piece. The bipedal herbivore Symet, for example, has a tail that closely resembles its head, a trait that confuses predators just long enough to allow the Symet to escape an attack--a survival trick that is not unknown among terrestrial animals. Other choices Barlowe makes are farther "out there."

Throughout the book, Barlowe goes out of his way to tease the reader with hints of a far greater and extensive ecology than that contained in the notes. Landscape scenes show herds of unidentified creatures in the distance, odd mushroom-like growths discharging nasty-looking electrical shocks, giant gourd-like trees and towering amoebic blobs that presumably roam around the world as they will. Frustratingly, none of these are discussed or even mentioned. Frustrating, yes, but very clever. These incidental additions to the paintings--creatures and plants ubiquitous to Darwin IV, yet not "interesting" enough to devoted limited page space to--add an additional layer of depth and nuance to the book, cluing the reader in that there is far more at work here than a by-the-numbers encyclopedia cataloging of impossible creatures from one man's imagination.

Despite Expedition's flaws--biology that stretches the limits of credibility in some cases, and an over-reliance on the eco-catastrophe framing device--the book is nothing short of inspirational. With science fiction in television, movies and books overrun by a tedious lineage of uninspired humanoid extraterrestrials that may sport cranial ridges but speak perfect English nonetheless, Barlowe shows what is possible if people would just let their imaginations soar. Aside from that, the artwork in the book is undeniably beautiful. Were they available, I'd gladly buy full-sized prints of any of these scenes in a heartbeat. ( )