Review of Limbo by Bernard Wolfe

One of the interesting mini-games in science fiction is tracing lineage. This author did this, another did that, another author picked up this, then still another author combined this with that and tweaked a little something here, and then... It's a sordid tale, so they say. I was somewhat taken aback by a novel, written in 1952, which acted not only as a node, but a proto-nexus for many of the ideas I find common in sf. Cyberpunk in rudimentary form. Concerns around invasive surgery. And psychologically edged dystopia. These three vectors cross paths in Bernard Wolfe's Limbo.

Limbo is a vignette of Earth post-WWIII. The nukes have fallen, and the global order is not what it once was. But neither is it stone age. Two core groups have emerged as nation states: the left over United States and the left over USSR. In the wake of such violence, the flag of pacifism flies high, so high, in fact, some people show support for the ideology by literally disarming themselves, voluntarily amputating limbs. These people are called Immobs. But most human existence is on the fringe, frontier and free. The novel centers on one such doctor living in the jungles of Africa, a man named Dr. Martine. He helps the local tribe implement mandunga, their version of pacifism via lobotomy. But when their jungle tribe sees its first group of Immobs visit, Dr. Martine knows he must leave his peaceful existence and return to his home in the US to do something about the phenomenon.

As mentioned, Limbo is more vignette than story. Here and there are subtle inflection points, but the turn-of-pages is more a tour of Wolfe's future vision than concatenated story beats. Do not confuse this with prognostication, however. Limbo is a post-nuclear mirror to humanity. Regardless the fact Wolfe's future is seven decades removed from the time the novel was written, the mirror still reflects an accurate image.

If voluntary amputation and a culture/ideology building around sounds strange, take another look at history and all the bizarre phenomenon that have existed. It's only that our perspective is the present that things seem normal, as undoubtedly centuries from now some of our behaviors will be seen as absurd. But that is the beginning of Wolfe's point. By the end of the novel (no spoilers), the more things change the more they stay the same. Outwardly society's behavior evolves and changes with time, but inwardly we remain fundamentally human.

In the novel's parlance, this fundamental state is a conflict, a conflict with itself. Individuals exist across the spectrum, but as whole we're stuck between beeing passive and aggressive. Again, no spoilers, but Wolfe uses the absurd idea of voluntary amputation to effectively contrast a very human, very believable story outcome. Even after massive nuclear war, even after billions dead, even through global social movements based on pacifism, we advanced monkeys still have the capacity to repeat ourselves in different ways.

I'm butchering the analysis of Limbo. The bottom line is that Wolfe highlights an aspect of the human condition in trenchant fashion. Humans are capable of many things, not the least of which is contradictory group behavior. And he does this deploying the tools available only to fantastika. This is not an Ra-Ra-Ra!! session for science fiction, rather I say that to highlight how speculation on the possible can be used to create sharper contrasts than purely mimetic fiction.

As mentioned, plot is not a strong point of Limbo. For readers looking for dynamic story, it's not here. Given Wolfe was looking to paint a speculative picture, minimal plot is not a problem for me. My biggest challenge was the volume of exposition. Wolfe often makes small divergences. To keep the metaphor intact, he focuses on small details of his painting. Many of these digressions are spurious. They don't distract from the vision as a whole, but it can feel overdone, at times.

In the end, Limbo is a novel that time is unfairly threatening to sweep under the rug. There is some meandering focus and readers looking for 'good story' will find more of a well-developed setting. Otherwise, Wolfe cleverly baits the reader into questioning the absurdity of his premise, then pulls the curtain aside, revealing his grand ambitions, ambitions that sink quickly home for the manner they represent our species behaviors. Civilized animals, we do things that are both contradictory to and in harmony with our nature and future. I mentioned a historical nexus in the lineage of sf in the introduction. This is Bruce Sterling's cyberpunk, Ken Kesey's One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, and J.G. Ballard's psychological dystopias, all rolled into one and becoming its own thing.