Millennials catch a fair amount of guff from older generations, much of which echoes criticisms previous generations had of previous generations had of... The wheel of time spins. But one thing that Millennials (even Gen X) have minimal awareness of is living in the shadow of nuclear war. Putin's rhetoric over Ukraine has put people on alert, but it's nothing compared to live news feeds showing the destruction of Hiroshima or warheads being deployed in Cuba, pointed at the US. Capturing the anxiety and folly of this atmosphere is Mordecai Roshwald's Level 7 (1959).
Level 7 is set in an underground arcology, built as a massive nuclear bunker for half million people. It is told through the eyes of X-127, a technician whose only job is to stand in front of a panel of buttons that launch nuclear missiles, and push when directed. Living on level 7 in the arcology, he interacts with other technicians, teachers, psychologists, engineers, etc. who share the level. X-127 settles into his role quite easily, his emotional expectations minimal. And with no wars happening, his life goes smoothly. There are no buttons to be pushed. That is, until the klaxons sound.
Level 7 is a bookend to Nevil Shute's On the Beach. Where Shute's novel addresses the aftermath of nuclear war, Roshwald's presents the people quite literally pushing the button to get thing started. But where Shute looks at the humanity of the situation through the eyes of a handful of people, Roshwald addresses the setting through the eyes of one person, X-127, and does so from an emotionally distant point of view. There is no mention of claustrophobia, for example, which would eventually be unavoidable. Another way of putting this is, Shute captures the humanity of his characters whereas Roshwald struggles to capture the humanity of his one character.
The primary reason for this is that Roshwald does a proportional amount of worldbuilding in this brief novel. Character presentation is offset with structuring the reader's view to the setting, particularly the levels of the arcology and the types of roles people have in them. Rather than focusing on quotidian details of human life, Roshwald instead chooses to present the frame of the underground world, which, in my opinion, does a good job conveying the novel's conception but does so at the expense of characterization—a critical point on which the success of such novel hinges.
The one thing that Level 7 does not fail on is the presentation of nuclear war. Considering this is the actual fulcrum on which the novel turns, I will not say more, letting readers discover for themselves precisely what happens. But I will say its through war Roshwald imports his human message. It will come as no surprise this is predominantly in the form of a cautionary, but that doesn't prevent the final few chapters from plucking the heart and mind strings in a way the first three-quarters of the novel doesn't. The ending is not a sum of the parts, but it certainly the strongest, most memorable part of the story.
In the end, Level 7 can be placed alongside other dystopian classics when it comes to theme. Roshwald clearly depicts the folly of nuclear weapons. But when it comes to substance and execution, it's difficult to make the same comparison. The story is bare bones, more frame than human tale. Numerous ideas are mentioned (social relations, claustrophobia, anxiety, concerns for the future, etc.), but only one is really explored (nuclear war). For anyone exploring 1950s science fiction or science fiction dealing with the Cold War, this one is absolutely worth checking out, however. Rather than 'nuclear adventure', this is 'nuclear confrontation' of the existential variety.
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