Samantha Harvey has been awarded the prestigious Booker Prize for her fifth novel, “Orbital.” At a slim 144 pages, it details the day-to-day life on board an international space station. It’s been described as “ravishingly beautiful” by The New York Times and has garnered similarly glowing praise from almost all literary critics who come across it.

Two hundred and fifty miles above Earth, a space station orbits endlessly. Over the course of 24 hours on Earth, the six astronauts aboard witness 16 sunrises and sunsets. Although they’re supposed to keep their schedules in tune with a normal “daily” routine, they exist in a dream-like liminal space, weightless, out of time, captivated and astonished by the “ringing singing lightness” of the globe always in view.

“What would it be to lose this?” is the question that spurs Harvey’s nimble swoops and dives into the minds of the six astronauts, as well as a few of the earthbound characters, past and present.

There are gentle eddies of plot: The Japanese astronaut, Chie, has just received word that her elderly mother has died; six other astronauts are currently on their way to a moon landing; a “super-typhoon” barrels toward the Philippines; one of the two cosmonauts, Anton, has discovered a lump on his neck.

But overall this book is a meditation, zealously lyrical, about the profundity and precarity of our imperiled planet. It’s surely difficult to write a book in which the main character is a giant rock in space — and the book can feel ponderous at times, especially in the middle — but Harvey’s deliberate slowed-down time and repetitions are entirely the point.

The novel entails contemplative musings on the “otherness” of the universe and our place within it. Like the astronauts, readers are prompted to ponder the vast expanse of the universe and our insignificance within it.

Harvey’s prose is exquisite, showcasing her immense talent in every section. Yet, some readers may find the lack of a dynamic plotline makes the book less engaging for them.