Adam Roberts, The History of Science Fiction (Palgrave MacMillan, 2006)
Adam Roberts' The History of Science Fiction is a deeply flawed book, but a deeply interesting one as well. And really, what else could one expect from a tome with so audacious a title as this one? Measured examinations of genre writing have historically been few and far between, as any form of genre -- be it science fiction, fantasy, horror, mystery -- is normally restricted to its respective literary ghettos, never to be acknowledged by legitimate academic researchers. Billion Year Spree by Brian Aldiss has long been the benchmark for intelligent SF discussion and debate. Roberts' book is unlikely to supplant Aldiss', but for all its shortcomings, it is a welcome new voice joining the conversation.
One thing in Roberts' favor is his thoroughness and attention to history. Whereas Mary Shelly's Frankenstein is the oft-repeated "beginning" of science fiction, Roberts pushes the envelope much further back. The second chapter makes very clear his stance on matters with the unambiguous title "Science Fiction and the Ancient Novel Interlude: AD 400-1600." Following that are chapters on 17th, 18th and early 19th century science fiction, which makes for a broad survey before the book even reaches the likes of Verne and Wells and Shelley who shaped modern SF as we know it. Roberts makes a very compelling case that fantastic literature was a strong and vibrant form (as much as any literature could be) throughout the ancient and medieval world, staking claim to the voyage extraordinaire. No less a writer than Plutarch is claimed for SF, on the basis of his speculative "On the Face Apparent in the Circle of the Moon," as well as Lucian of Samosata, who wrote of a journey beyond the moon in "Ikaromenippos."
What muddies the waters with these examples, however, is the fact that they are all thoroughly steeped in the religious worldview of the day, and with Zeus and other supernatural figures populating the works along with miraculous visions of reality wholly unrelated to the Copernican cosmos we know today, it's close to impossible for the modern mind to accept these mythic stories as science fiction as opposed to outright fantasy. Science was a handmaiden of theology in centuries past (and judging by recent court battles over the teaching of Intelligent Design in public schools, may still be) so claiming these as ancestral works to what we know as science fiction is a valid position. Claiming they actually are science fiction, however, pushes relativism just a tad too far. Compounding the problem is that most works cited are either obscure or not easily available. Modern readers may be familiar with Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels (1726) and could track down Voltaire's Micromegas (1750) if persistent enough, but Jacques Guttin's Origins of Futuristic Fiction (1659) is asking a lot. And that's the double-edged sword at work here -- Roberts' excellent scholarship and research has unearthed a great many titles that valuably flesh out the deepest, darkest history of the genre, but the very obscurity of these works turns the chapters they fill into tedious lists, lacking life and immediacy. Graduate students working on disserations may well mine these chapters for source material and praise Roberts' name to the stars above, but those with more casual interest in the history of SF will find the fascinating jewels of information contained herein surrounded by deep passages of dense, black coal.
Roberts' contention that religion in western Europe played a significant role in the development of science fiction is quite an interesting one as well. He divides all post-Reformation (specifically, beginning in 1600 with Giordano Bruno's burning at the stake for arguing in favor of an infinite universe) writing as either Catholic or Protestant -- the former being predisposed to religious mysticism and giving rise to modern-day fantasy, with the latter being predisposed to rationalism and reason, and as such produced the first valid science fiction:
To put it briefly: SF is the genre that mediates the discourses of 'science' (or 'fact') and 'magic' (or, subsequently, 'imagination,' 'fiction'); and it comes into generic being at precisely the historical moment when competing cosmic discourses were in the process of separating themselves into rationalist Protestant and ritualist-magic Catholic religious idioms.
Historically, it is true that tumultuous societal changes directly impact the literature of the times in profound ways, and Roberts cites examples that are intriguing when viewed from that particular perspective. But the further removed from the Reformation (and later, the Enlightenment) Roberts moves, the creakier his classification and justifications for them become. Times change, people change, concerns change. By the time the 20th century rolls around, the Protestant/Catholic divisions are irrelevant, with as many contradictions as affirmations. Roberts drops this approach at categorization, for the most part, but occasionally returns to the theory in the attempt to make some pertinent point or other. The results, however, are largely unconvincing.
The most engaging sections of the book deal with the early 20th century through the so-called "Golden Age." This, for the most part, is lively and entertaining. Not surprisingly, since there is a wealth of information about this vibrant period available -- some of the participants, such as Jack Williamson, being still alive and productive. A decent, if abbreviated, overview of the "New Wave" is undermined by a high-handed, five-sentence dismissal of Harlan Ellison's work as irrelevant, and the late Roger Zelazny's contributions to SF reduced to a passing, parenthetical reference to Lord of Light, and the late Andre Norton omitted entirely. The remaining decades are rushed through, which is somewhat ironic, since it is arguable that more SF has been published since 1970s than before. Much of the final chapters are devoted to media and pop culture SF manifestations, devolving into a hurried list of titles and dates ranging from token anime and comic books to Web sites and TV series. It comes out as a jumble on the page, akin to Gardner Dozois' yearly summations in the various Years Best SF anthologies he edits -- although Dozois has the advantage of limiting his ruminations to a single year. Roberts attempts to summarize entire decades, and stumbles badly. Science fiction from outside the U.S. and western Europe gets particularly short shrift, with a cursory nod given to eastern European writers such as Stanislaw Lem and Latin American writers of magical realism. The popularity of SF in Japan is mentioned, but China, boasting the SF magazines with the largest circulation in the world, is ignored completely.
Despite these shortcomings -- or perhaps because of them -- The History of Science Fiction is a necessary and important book. It will get people talking, discussing and -- dare I say it? -- arguing about all manner of things relevant to science fiction, its history and its future. Or it will, at least, to those persistent enough to slog through those long stretches of tedium.
