A decade ago, the Library of America released the set Nine Classic Science Fiction Novels of the 1950s. The series was edited, or perhaps more accurately, curated by Gary Wolfe. Wolfe is a genre personage who I often disagree with, but a person who I respect, particularly his knowledge of 20th century science fiction. Wolfe is a proper scholar and a person to be trusted when looking to curate such a series. Nevertheless, differences in opinion there are, and it's in those differences that my views have been percolating for ten years, waiting until I've read enough sf from the 50s to have an informed rebuttal. With more than thirty-five novels from the decade under my belt (and this post sitting in my drafts folder for all that time) I think I've reached that point. In the very least I will introduce you to some old school science fiction that perhaps wasn't on your radar before.
For a bit of historical context, the 1950s was the time science fiction made itself respectable in the US. Writers like H.G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, Olaf Stapledon and others had been writing a more literary style of science fiction for decades, but they were based in Europe. (Yes, you Brits, you are European.) To that point America had almost exclusively driven down the road with signposts like: damsels in distress, men in tight jumpsuits, slavering aliens, laser blasters, and Pulp Ahead! A difficult era to take seriously (save for collectors and connoisseurs, natch), the Golden Age of scientifiction in the US is stinky cheese at its worst and fun escapism at its best. It took writers like Ray Bradbury, James Blish, Theodore Sturgeon, Alfred Bester and several others in the 50s to inject the genre with a bit of rigor and raise standards—to comb the genre's hair, brush it's teeth, put on clean clothes, and teach it a little etiquette. In real terms, this meant improving technique, cleaning up syntax and diction, interweaving metaphor and theme with plot, device, and character, etc. They pioneered what most now refer to as the Silver Age of science fiction.
Without further ado, let's look at the nine Silver Age novels Wolfe selected from the 1950s—the What Is—before getting to What Could Have Been, What Rightfully Wasn't, and closing with What Should Have Been.
What Is
These are the nine novels Wolfe selected:
- Frederik Pohl and C. M. Kornbluth's The Space Merchants
- Theodore Sturgeon's More Than Human
- Leigh Brackett's The Long Tomorrow
- Richard Matheson's The Shrinking Man
- Robert A. Heinlein's Double Star
- Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination
- James Blish's A Case of Conscience
- Algis Budrys' Who?
- Fritz Leiber's The Big Time
Let's take a very quick look at each:
Pohl and Kornbluth's The Space Merchants – This is a clunky inclusion in the volume. The satire, while occasionally sharp, is kitchen steak knife sharp not Japanese samurai. Save perhaps the giant pseudo-hunk of chicken meat? The edge occasionally gets dull in the interweaving of imagination and commentary. It's inconsistent. I would be surprised if Pohl or Kornbluth thought their fun and games would ever be considered for a Library of America entry. That being said, the novel does represent one of the strong veins of science fiction of the era. Satire was something more prominent in genre than today, and The Space Merchants does a decent job representing that branch. (See also William Tenn.)
Theodore Sturgeon's More than Human - Sturgeon is one of the great voices of the 50s and fully deserving of a place in the volume. But I have qualms about More Than Human. Style-wise, it's impeccable. American science fiction writers rarely produce prose of such amazing quality, even today. The first Act of More than Human reads like a mythic dream. Substance-wise, however, it's less amazing. The book's conception, that humanity could evolve and exist in harmony via telekinetic gestalt, is a few steps over the line. Spaceships, blasters, and aliens one can consider, telekinesis less so. To be fair, telekinesis was a common device of the time; it was something closer to 'possible' than it is today. But the most important reason I have qualms is I do not think More Than Human is Sturgeon's best book of the 1950s. Stay tuned.
Leigh Brackett's The Long Tomorrow – This novel is not only deserving of a place in the Library, but is in contention for the best book on this list. The fact it is not better known is the actual crime. A John Steinbeck take on the value of technology and information, this pastoral novel remains powerful to this day. The fact Wolfe captured it in the Library is great for getting the potential readership it deserves and extending its life in the public eye. Go read this.
Richard Matheson's The Shrinking Man – The Shrinking Man is full on comic book (a scientist is shrunken by technology down to mouse size) that tries to redeem itself by offering the scientist's diminution as a metaphor for his immasculation. For me the needle falls distinctly to the side of comic book. If I'm forced to be optimistic, Matheson does bookend the narrative with scenes appropriately realizing his thematic vision. But still...
Robert A. Heinlein's Double Star - One of a gozillion novels Heinlein wrote in the 1950s, is Double Star the best of them? I don't know. I'm not going to read a gozillion to find out. Of the others I have read (Starship Troopers and Have Space Suit—Will Travel), Double Star may be the best. May be... There are arguments to be made for Starship Troopers. Regardless, its style is sharp and tight, and despite opening on a gimmicky premise, manages to add enough substance to the idea to give the novel a sense of sophistication. And what's more, the main character's story resolves itself in atypical fashion. Why not Double Star?
Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination – This is one of only three novels Bester wrote in the 50s. But what he lacked in quantity he made up for in quality. Certainly there will be people who would argue for The Demolished Man to occupy Besters spot on the Library of America list (and there are good arguments to be made), but the peculiarity and singularity of Tiger! Tiger! (aka The Stars My Destination) makes it the standout novel in Wolfe's view and mine. Anti-hero, flashy prose, unpredictable plot—about the only criticism I have is that theme is generally lacking. This is a piece to be admired for technique and presentation more than substance.
James Blish's A Case of Conscience – This novel is perhaps the most ambitious on the Library of America list. It puts classic Catholicism through the ringer (at least from some perspectives). Playing with the fact the Bible failed to mention dinosaurs, Blish sends a missionary priest to a planet filled with sentient reptiles, sentient reptiles who do not sin. Where does a guilt-less species fit into the teleology of Catholocism? Blish doesn't answer the question why the sentient reptiles are missing from the Bible, but does a solid job interrogating everything else. A science fiction Graham Greene, Blish is unafraid to criticize the church while tacitly underpinning it. I consider myself agnostic, but I do like the soul of this novel. For the record, the novel is better than Blish's Cities in Flight sequence, a tetralogy that is respectful on paper but thin in execution.
Algis Budrys' Who? - Budrys' Cold War crisis of identity Who? and Brackett's The Long Tomorrow are among the tip-top best sf of the 50s. The book tells of a soldier who returns from war with the Soviet Union needing to have major pieces of his body replaced. So many pieces replaced, in fact, he begins to wonder who he is. Echoing Budrys' own emigration from behind the Iron Curtain to the West, this novel does not get the love it deserves, especially considering how well it stands the test of time, and especially, especially considering the plethora of post-colonial novels which have emerged the past few decades targeting exactly this type of identity self-questioning. For what it's worth, Philip K. Dick and William Gibson both, intentionally or unintentionally, owe Budrys a nod of recognition for helping pave the way for their oeuvres.
Fritz Leiber's The Big Time – Leiber is a phenomenal writer. While history threatens to remember him for the sword-and-sorcery he wrote to pay the bills, there are a number of Leiber stories with more substance, including The Big Time. Theater converted to prose, the novel is a single liminal space to which various personages fighting in the Forever War come for R&R, triage, etc. For readers who can appreciate the manner in which science fiction can be captured in a stage production, agreed, this is one of the best of the 1950s.
Those are the nine novels selected. Let's look at what other options Wolfe had.
What Could Have Been
Despite the Sturgeon, Heinlein, Bester, etc. selections, there are a couple heavy hitters notably absent from the volume. Names like Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Walter M. Miller, Daniel Keyes, Kurt Vonnegut, and others cannot be found. As much as I disagree with Wolfe at times, I have to believe this is due to licensing issues—certain authors' estates not wanting to give up printing rights. (Also, this is Library of America, so no international heavyweights like Arthur C. Clarke, Brian Aldiss, John Brunner, Stanislaw Lem, Nevil Shute, John Wyndham, etc.)
But let's ignore the reasons for keeping some of the books from the Library and play with a blank slate. There are several others published in the 1950s, for better and worse, that Wolfe undoubtedly considered when curating the edition. In no particular order:
Walter M. Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz – Like Blish's novel, Canticle is a book that places Catholocism in a science fiction setting, in this case a post-apocalyptic Earth. Like the Jesuits of old, Miller sees the church as literal saviors of history—the only organization capable of transcending secularism to archive humanity's collective knowledge for a time after the dust of bombs has settled and the cockroaches have been stamped out. I have disagreements with the Christian core of the novel, but I respect the manner in which Miller frames and executes the idea. Thematically it rings a bell for Christian and non-Christian alike.
Ward Moore's Bring the Jubilee – Alternate history long before alternate history was cool, Bring the Jubilee works from a simple premise: What if the South won the American Civil War? Moore is not secretly a secessionist or closet KKK hood-wearer. Instead, the novel uses scene and character to deconstruct the Southern slave ideology by presenting a balanced view to what it could have become had they won. Several writers have since done similar things (notably Terry Bisson's Fire on the Mountain), but Bring the Jubilee out punches most such efforts despite the half century that has elapsed.
Theodore Sturgeon's The Dreaming Jewels and The Cosmic Rape - I mentioned earlier that Sturgeon wrote novels better than More Than Human in the 50s. The Dreaming Jewels is one. Ostensibly bizarre, it tells of a boy who runs away from home and joins a traveling circus. The circus owner has discovered sentient life in some jewels and works to use them to destroy humanity. The other novel that is better, and by a larger margin, is The Cosmic Rape (aka To Marry Medusa). A wonderful braid of story, the novel tells of a galactic hivemind that seeks to subsume Earth. Sturgeon focuses on the subject of the alien's goals rather than what pulp sf would have (i.e. the alien), in turn giving readers a book filled with atypical character—hero and anti-hero—as a means of interrogating the paradoxes of being human.
Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged – Many people do not consider Rand for such lists, but in the interest of being objective (I am not a closet Objectivist) there is everything speculative about Atlas Shrugged, such that we need to bring it into the conversation. I do not find the ideology the novel expresses anything more than extolling capitalism's virtues, but there are plenty of people out there who seem to see deeper. Regardless, the concept of finding a hidden “kingdom” tucked inside known lands is as science fiction as Journey to the Center of the Earth. The fact it attempts to present a socio-economic ideology of its own in this kingdom, whether or not the reader agrees, makes it worth considering.
Kurt Vonnegut's The Sirens of Titan and Player Piano – If there is a book to give Brackett's The Long Tomorrow and Budry's Who? a run for the gold medal, it's The Sirens of Titan. It plays with the idea of free will through the clever use of some of science fiction's most famous gadgets—UFOs, brain control, and other things. Free will one of the most fundamental questions of existence, how could it's colorful imagination and droll tone not find a place in the Library? Player Piano is the other novel Vonnegut published in the 50s. It explores the impact of automated labor on socio-economics and the human work-force. Not precisely Luddite, Vonnegut's view is balanced, or at least sardonic, given the arc it follows. The novel's take on corporate life, while perhaps unintentional, still holds a lot of truth to this day.
Edgar Pangborn's A Mirror for Observers – Essentially unknown today, A Mirror for Observers is something of a forebear to Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun. Martians have secretly landed on Earth but are of two minds what to do with humanity—a humanity which has struggled controlling its nuclear capabilities. One Martian faction does not believe in humanity's long term ability to sustain peace, and works covertly to take over Earth. The other faction, through which the majority of the novel is presented, believes in mankind and tries to unleash its constructive potential. While lagging in pace and perhaps contains a few overextended scenes, Pangborn's novel nevertheless possesses prose viable today (doesn't always feel like a 50s novel) and a moral component that few science fiction novels have.
Ray Bradbury's Martian Chronicles – Technically this is a collection of short stories, but the manner in which all the stories have a common core—the fundamentals of human existence regardless which planet those humans exist on—allow the book to transcend its pieces. Fahrenheit 451 is the book many high schools have (had?) as required reading, but The Martian Chronicles it should be (have been?).
Mordecai Roshwald's Level 7 – Cold War fears realized, in Level 7 Roshwald constructs an underground society who lives in constant readiness for the bombs to fall. The book is culturally salient given post-WWII concerns, and retains most of its humanity through the presentation of fallout shelter life. Had the novel filled the interstices of scene with a bit more poignant detail I can't help but think it would be spoken of alongside many other famous novels of this time.
Philip K. Dick's Time Out of Joint – This is stereotypical PKD written by PKD. It presents the normal 1950s life of one Ragle Gumm (what a name!) then slowly twists it out of normal, one paranoid step at a time. It is essential reading in the PKD oeuvre, and I would argue is essential reading for anyone looking to understand 50s sf, just ignore the bad title. The story a warning shot, PKD was getting us ready for the true wackiness of the 60s.
Richard Matheson's I Am Legend – Post-apocalyptic fiction has become a strong sub-genre of fantastika the past several decades, but I Am Legend is one of the first such books to make a notable mark. About a man and his dog living in suburban California, everyday they fight to survive. Food, shelter, the undead—surviving is anything but easy. Almost wild west in feel (despite the urban setting), it's drama of the finest.
Rober Heinlein's Starship Troopers - A coming-of-age novel, Starship Troopers is set on a future Earth where only members of the military are considered full citizens, and afford the relative rights. Engaged in interstellar war against an arachnid species, there are multiple main characters, but each is a new military recruit. They often discuss moral virtues of the war, their government, and other socio-political ideals - and occasionally go into battle. This is a book filled with truly interesting ideas and questions, but due to the fact Heinlein kept it YA, none get explored in the same fashion as say, Stranger in a Strange Land.
Pat Frank's Alas, Babylon – A Cold War what-if, Alas, Babylon explores the results of A-bombs dropping all around the US. The novel centers on a rural Florida community outside the blast radii, and the slow deterioration of civilization they must deal with. Frank's prose is super clean and imminently readable. He uses the little details of quotidian life to positive effect. But the overarching tone of the novel is simplistic—not quite Golly gee willikers, but it subconsciously feels like each of the scenes Frank presents, particularly toward the end of the novel, need a great deal more unpacking to possess the sophistication they need to engage a thinking reader.
Clifford Simak's City – City is a novel (or at least a fix-up of short-stories into a longer effort) many old school sf readers hold in regard. If one squints, they can see why. The talking dogs are not cartoonish per se, nevertheless Simak clearly intended them to be a mirror to humanity. But the sum does not transcend the parts. The Way Station is Simak's best novel, but it was published in 1963, and therefore not eligible here.
Robert Sheckley's Immortality, Inc. and Untouched by Human Hands – The former a novel and the latter a collection, they are the best of what Sheckley produced in the 50s. Immortality, Inc. is a fine debut novel that gives every indication of the writer Sheckley would become. Perpetually killing two birds with one stone, humanism is juxtaposed with engaging storytelling, dark humor is plotted versus real-world concerns, and religious and social idealism are taken to task by a bit of fantastical technology that spins the idea of ‘alive’ in a new direction Untouched by Human Hands is the collection that put Sheckley's name on the map, however, and identified his singular style of satirical humor. Silverberg toys with the tools and devices of pulp science fiction, but the heart of every story is something unequivocally human. Both worth consideration for the library.
James Blish's They Shall Have Stars – First novel in the Cities in Flight tetralogy, They Shall Have Stars may be the quintessential expression of Modernist human hopes (expectations?) for the stars. The book contains a fair bit of drama, but rather than alien encounters, space ship blasters, or laser pistols, the book focuses on the human aspect of leaving Earth for space: finances, technology, pharmaceuticals, socio-economics, etc. It's literally anti-pulp. Blish tries to be realistic in his presentation of the possibilities (or lack thereof) for human life beyond our stratosphere, and should be lauded for it. I just think A Case of Conscience is the better novel given how transcendent the theme is.
What Rightfully Wasn't
In the words of Primus, they can't all be zingers. Here are 50s sf novels that were/are well known, but perhaps shouldn't be held in the regard they are.
Isaac Asimov's The End of Eternity - If Asimov is not on the Library of America list because Wolfe considers the author undeserving, then I applaud Wolfe for rightfully overlooking the man's popularity and seeing him for the mediocre writer he was. Nice ideas, yes, but like so many writers of that generation the ability to execute on those ideas in human fashion with sophisticated prose escaped Asimov. His stories are most often juvenile. His best novel, The End of Eternity, gives a small glimpse of his potential, but like most everything else Asimov wrote, ends up as escapism.
Mark Clifton & Frank Riley's They'd Rather Be Right – Winner of the much vaunted Hugo award, Worldcon readers in 1954 voted They'd Rather Be Right the best of that year. In reality it is the definition of mediocre. The central question of the story is worthwhile and interesting: Is the person's subjective perception of being correct a good thing? But characterization, consistency of technique, scene development—the art of writing—is notably absent. In the hands of better writers I think this question could have been developed with interest. (Sorry, couldn't help but put this book on the list. As I always say, never pass up the opportunity to poke holes in the idea of popularity contests determining 'the best'...)
Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 – Thanks to high school English classes across the USA, this is likely the best known Bradbury novel of the decade. Which is a bit of a shame. The theme is trite. Don't burn books, nnn'k kids? Reading is such an integral part of human existence, it's difficult to imagine western civilization outlawing it. Even looking at dictatorships—communist regimes of the past half-century—even they see the value in the propaganda machine. The most salient aspect of Fahrenheit 451 is actually the main character's wife, a woman who slips into the doldrums of life with only a screen to entertain her. Sound familiar?
Andre Norton's Plague Ship – Norton was quite popular in the 40s, but her content did not evolve. What she produced in the 50s was similar to the pulp of the 40s, meaning the reader does not find a story with much substance in Plague Ship. To be fair, Norton's prose was better than average; the reader doesn't have to fight with the text to read (a la Robert E. Howard), there just not much beyond.
Jack Vance's Big Planet and Languages of Pao – I am a massive Jack Vance fan, but I can't quite bring myself to say these belong in the conversation for best of the decade. Both books feature Vance in the process of sorting out what would become his signature authorial voice. There are flashes, and both stories are enjoyable in their own right, but they remain entertainments, at best. Each novel is roughly 150 pages—long enough for colorful bits of imagination, but too short to truly develop a theme.
I have read a dozen additional sf books published in the 50s, most by authors mentioned above. But I will leave the list where it stands. Which leaves us only with the list of books that could/should have been (would have been were I a god <cue evil laugh>).
What Should Have Been
Taking everything into consideration and ignoring any licensing issues, publishing rights, estate ownership, etc., here are the nine best science fiction books of the 50s. Yes, this is just my opinion, so feel free to chime in with your own list in the comments
- Ray Bradbury's Martian Chronicles
- Kurt Vonnegut's The Sirens of Titan
- Leigh Brackett's The Long Tomorrow
- Algis Budrys' Who?
- Ward Moore's Bring the Jubilee
- Walter M. Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz
- Theodore Sturgeon's The Cosmic Rape
- James Blish's A Case of Conscience
- Fritz Leiber's The Big Time
If you have not read any of these novels and you consider yourself a fan of science fiction, or you're a modern reader looking to get into the genre's (respectable, ahem) history, try a few of these. They transcend their era.
Now, ten more years and I will have read enough to be able to post on the best sf of the 60s...
So what’s your opinion of A.C. Clarke, specifically his novel Earthlight?
ReplyDeleteEarthlight is a simple but decent story. Clarke took one bit of moon trivia and streeeeetched it into a short novel/long novella. Characterization is minimal, plot is minimal; everything hinges on that bit of trivia.
DeleteReview here: https://speculiction.blogspot.com/2012/10/review-of-earthlight-by-arthur-c-clarke.html
No Kim Stanely Robinson?
ReplyDeleteTrolling?
Delete