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Cities in Flight #1
They Shall Have Stars
2018 AD. The time of the Cold Peace, worse even than the Cold War. The bureaucratic regimes that rule from Washington and Moscow are indistinguishable in their passion for total repression. But in the West, a few dedicated individuals still struggle to find a way out of the trap of human history. Behind the screen of official research their desperate project is nearing completion . . .
159 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1956
About the author
James Blish
430 books305 followersJames Benjamin Blish was an American author of fantasy and science fiction. Blish also wrote literary criticism of science fiction using the pen-name William Atheling Jr.
In the late 1930's to the early 1940's, Blish was a member of the Futurians.
Blish trained as a biologist at Rutgers and Columbia University, and spent 1942–1944 as a medical technician in the U.S. Army. After the war he became the science editor for the Pfizer pharmaceutical company. His first published story appeared in 1940, and his writing career progressed until he gave up his job to become a professional writer.
He is credited with coining the term gas giant, in the story "Solar Plexus" as it appeared in the anthology Beyond Human Ken, edited by Judith Merril. (The story was originally published in 1941, but that version did not contain the term; Blish apparently added it in a rewrite done for the anthology, which was first published in 1952.)
Blish was married to the literary agent Virginia Kidd from 1947 to 1963.
From 1962 to 1968, he worked for the Tobacco Institute.
Between 1967 and his death from lung cancer in 1975, Blish became the first author to write short story collections based upon the classic TV series Star Trek. In total, Blish wrote 11 volumes of short stories adapted from episodes of the 1960s TV series, as well as an original novel, Spock Must Die! in 1970 — the first original novel for adult readers based upon the series (since then hundreds more have been published). He died midway through writing Star Trek 12; his wife, J.A. Lawrence, completed the book, and later completed the adaptations in the volume Mudd's Angels.
Blish lived in Milford, Pennsylvania at Arrowhead until the mid-1960s. In 1968, Blish emigrated to England, and lived in Oxford until his death in 1975. He is buried in Holywell Cemetery, Oxford, near the grave of Kenneth Grahame.
His name in Greek is Τζέημς Μπλις"
In the late 1930's to the early 1940's, Blish was a member of the Futurians.
Blish trained as a biologist at Rutgers and Columbia University, and spent 1942–1944 as a medical technician in the U.S. Army. After the war he became the science editor for the Pfizer pharmaceutical company. His first published story appeared in 1940, and his writing career progressed until he gave up his job to become a professional writer.
He is credited with coining the term gas giant, in the story "Solar Plexus" as it appeared in the anthology Beyond Human Ken, edited by Judith Merril. (The story was originally published in 1941, but that version did not contain the term; Blish apparently added it in a rewrite done for the anthology, which was first published in 1952.)
Blish was married to the literary agent Virginia Kidd from 1947 to 1963.
From 1962 to 1968, he worked for the Tobacco Institute.
Between 1967 and his death from lung cancer in 1975, Blish became the first author to write short story collections based upon the classic TV series Star Trek. In total, Blish wrote 11 volumes of short stories adapted from episodes of the 1960s TV series, as well as an original novel, Spock Must Die! in 1970 — the first original novel for adult readers based upon the series (since then hundreds more have been published). He died midway through writing Star Trek 12; his wife, J.A. Lawrence, completed the book, and later completed the adaptations in the volume Mudd's Angels.
Blish lived in Milford, Pennsylvania at Arrowhead until the mid-1960s. In 1968, Blish emigrated to England, and lived in Oxford until his death in 1975. He is buried in Holywell Cemetery, Oxford, near the grave of Kenneth Grahame.
His name in Greek is Τζέημς Μπλις"
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November 10, 2016
This little-known dystopian novel, first published in 1956, is, as the title suggests, set in the US of 2018. Under severe external threat, the country has descended into paranoia and become a Stalinist dictatorship which in practice is run by Francis X. MacHinery, the head of the FBI. The majority of American's citizens seek refuge from an unbearable reality in bizarre fundamentalist religions.
How do science-fiction writers come up with these weird ideas?
How do science-fiction writers come up with these weird ideas?
May 17, 2024
Yet the barbarians, who are not divided by rival traditions, fight all the more incessantly for food and space. Peoples cannot love one another unless they love the same ideas. – George Santayana
It can be challenging reviewing older speculative fiction books by modern standards. Many things have changed: scientific knowledge, obviously, but also cultural mores and the way that books are being published (a very real Achilles heel for older books; word count limitations upon serialization affected characterization dramatically, since the focus would always be on the “idea”).
They Shall Have Stars is the first in the Cities In Flight (or “Okies”) series (in terms of internal chronology). It was published in the 1950s and has a lot of the hallmarks of a Science Fiction novel from that era, for better or worse. That said: this is hard SF and not anything like planet adventure or space opera.
Fun trivia: Amalthea is still referred to as Jupiter V, even though this novel takes place in the “future”. Well, to be exact, circa 2013 through 2018 or so. Alternate history then?
The rest of the sky was crawling with color, striped and blotched with the eternal, frigid, poisonous storming of Jupiter’s atmosphere, spotted with the deep-black, planet-sized shadows of moons closer to the sun than Jupiter V.
Somewhere down there, six thousand miles below the clouds that boiled in his face, was the Bridge. The Bridge was thirty miles high and eleven miles wide and fifty-four miles long – but it was only a sliver, an intricate and fragile arrangement of ice-crystals beneath the bulging, racing tornadoes.
Nevertheless, I found this novel very engaging. The “Ice Bridge” experiment, as depicted, in the atmosphere of Jupiter, stands up to just about any modern day SF novel in scope and execution.
”One of these days, Jupiter is going to destroy the Bridge. It’ll go flying away in little flinders, into the storms. My mind will be there, supervising some puny job, and my mind will go flying away along with my mechanical eyes and ears and hands – still trying to adapt to the unthinkable, tumbling away into the winds and the flames and the rains and the darkness and the pressure and the cold—“
There are some philosophical undertones, but mostly this novel sets up the rest of the series (for example, there is no “city in flight” yet). In fact, They Shall Have Stars really deals with the events and political and scientific status quo that led to the pioneering of the Spindizzy drive. Or, in general terms, the invention of a space drive capable of making interstellar voyages.
Should the temple bell be struck so continually that it has to shatter – make all its worshippers ill with terror until it is silenced?
It is a short novel, and a quick read, and in the end I found it to be quite good. The climax is excellently executed for the most part and generated quite a bit of excitement as readers can finally see how pieces fit together, and the fruits of one man’s obsession to give us the stars.
Stunned, he made a very rough estimate in his head of the increase in parallax and tried to calculate the ship’s rate of approach from that.
4.5 stars, but rounded down because of the lack of flying cities. I know, I am being petty (tongue in cheek, of course), but fortunately the rest of the series promises to deliver on that front.
It can be challenging reviewing older speculative fiction books by modern standards. Many things have changed: scientific knowledge, obviously, but also cultural mores and the way that books are being published (a very real Achilles heel for older books; word count limitations upon serialization affected characterization dramatically, since the focus would always be on the “idea”).
They Shall Have Stars is the first in the Cities In Flight (or “Okies”) series (in terms of internal chronology). It was published in the 1950s and has a lot of the hallmarks of a Science Fiction novel from that era, for better or worse. That said: this is hard SF and not anything like planet adventure or space opera.
Fun trivia: Amalthea is still referred to as Jupiter V, even though this novel takes place in the “future”. Well, to be exact, circa 2013 through 2018 or so. Alternate history then?
The rest of the sky was crawling with color, striped and blotched with the eternal, frigid, poisonous storming of Jupiter’s atmosphere, spotted with the deep-black, planet-sized shadows of moons closer to the sun than Jupiter V.
Somewhere down there, six thousand miles below the clouds that boiled in his face, was the Bridge. The Bridge was thirty miles high and eleven miles wide and fifty-four miles long – but it was only a sliver, an intricate and fragile arrangement of ice-crystals beneath the bulging, racing tornadoes.
Nevertheless, I found this novel very engaging. The “Ice Bridge” experiment, as depicted, in the atmosphere of Jupiter, stands up to just about any modern day SF novel in scope and execution.
”One of these days, Jupiter is going to destroy the Bridge. It’ll go flying away in little flinders, into the storms. My mind will be there, supervising some puny job, and my mind will go flying away along with my mechanical eyes and ears and hands – still trying to adapt to the unthinkable, tumbling away into the winds and the flames and the rains and the darkness and the pressure and the cold—“
There are some philosophical undertones, but mostly this novel sets up the rest of the series (for example, there is no “city in flight” yet). In fact, They Shall Have Stars really deals with the events and political and scientific status quo that led to the pioneering of the Spindizzy drive. Or, in general terms, the invention of a space drive capable of making interstellar voyages.
Should the temple bell be struck so continually that it has to shatter – make all its worshippers ill with terror until it is silenced?
It is a short novel, and a quick read, and in the end I found it to be quite good. The climax is excellently executed for the most part and generated quite a bit of excitement as readers can finally see how pieces fit together, and the fruits of one man’s obsession to give us the stars.
Stunned, he made a very rough estimate in his head of the increase in parallax and tried to calculate the ship’s rate of approach from that.
4.5 stars, but rounded down because of the lack of flying cities. I know, I am being petty (tongue in cheek, of course), but fortunately the rest of the series promises to deliver on that front.
January 31, 2024
This is the first novel in Blish's Cities in Flight sequence of four books, a hard-science flavored look at politics and philosophy from 1956 set in (the far-future) world of 2018. Better known as the Okie series, the cities are powered by anti-gravity engines known as spindizzies. They Shall Have Stars is the first chronologically, though the series didn't appear in sequence, and Blish revised bits and pieces with each edition. The stories themselves extend thousands of years in the future to the end of the universe. It's a great concept series, though the characters were frequently wooden.
September 11, 2012
I'm currently reading through the omnibus Cities in Flight, which contains all four books in Blish's series. But I couldn't contain myself to one review for the omnibus, each book deserves its own personal review, so hopefully I may be forgiven for shelving all four books and the omnibus. It's not done to drive up my 2012 book challenge, honest!
'They Shall Have Stars' was slightly difficult to get into, not only is the style of writing slightly different to the modern sci-fi and fantasy that I'm more used to. But the method is quite original, and reminds me in hindsight now of George R.R. Martin's method in the Song of Ice and Fire novels. The story is told from 3 different 3rd person points of view, which change each chapter.
In the first setting, we are in Washington, watching the character Senator Bliss Wagoner, who is making some very hard decisions. Scientifically, humanity is in a bit of a rut. No new advances have been made for decades, and humanity is no closer to interstellar travel than it was 50 years ago. The West is still pitted against Russia in what seems to be a war of science and ideas. But everything in the west is so mired in 'top secret' bigbrotherness, that no ideas can be shared and no progress is ever made. Wagoner is determined that new breakthoughs must be made, and turns to his friend Giuseppi Corsi for advice. Corsi advises Wagoner to seek innovation through ideas that have already been dismissed untried, where scientists have been labeled as crazy and ignored. And thus Wagoner's new science initiative is born, but whatever price is paid by humanity to carry out these crackpot experiments, the whole of it rests on Wagoner's shoulders.
In New York, Colonel Paige Russel of the Army Space Corps is dropping off soil samples collected on Jupiter V, at the Pfitzner Plant for analasis. Paige finds himself curious about why the soil samples are needed and manages to get himself a personal tour of the laboratory, during which he hears the cries of newborn babys. He refuses to believe the lies then told him about this, and becomes concerned about the real reason why babies might be involved in laboratory research. He hopes to gain some answers by going on a date with the secretary Anne, who knows more than a secretary normally would. But unwittingly he stumbles head over heels in love with Anne, and finds himself suddenly personally involved in the morally dubious research for the secret of anti-aging drugs.
And on Jupiter V, a moon of Jupiter, Bob Helmuth is one of a team of personal working on a Top Secret project. Remotely, through a virtual reality medium, Helmuth controls machines which are building an inhumanly large 'bridge' of ice above the surface of Jupiter. Helmuth and the other workers have been mentally conditioned into believing that the bridge is the most important thing to them, to ensure completion of the project even through the unbearable conditions they must put themselves. The bridge on Jupiter is a massive undertaking, but the goal and purpose of it is unknown even to the workers, but Helmuth has his own theories. He believes that the bridge may be part of an experiment to produce anti-gravity technology.
They Shall Have Stars was a great beginning to the quadrilogy. Whilst the unusual setup made it slightly slow to get into, once I was in I was completely hooked by the various mysteries going on.
I found Wagoner to be a particularly hard character to read. He has a determination to keep the civilisation of the West marching forward, but he doesn't seem to care what price they have to pay to get there. He is responsible for some quite horrific tragedies through ordering these experiments, and yet I'm not sure he shows much remorse for it. Yes he questions it, but obviously he sticks with the choice he made, and I'm not sure that I felt a great deal of emotion from him about it. I could just be missing it due to my unfamiliarity with the writing style, but I just wasn't completely happy with his character. Other reviewers have stated that Wagoner was intended to be a christ figure, but I can't say I saw that at all. Christ was willing to be sacrificed yes, and he knew that his disciples would suffer for him also, but he gave them that choice. Wagoner never gave a choice to the people he used. I could go into more detail, but I'd be risking spoilers, and probably getting into a big rant, and everyone hates rants. So I'll just leave that topic with this - if Blish did intend Wagoner to be a christ figure then he's lost a bit of my respect for that, I'd much prefer that Wagoner remain a driven but fallible man, the story works much better that way.
The character than I most felt the most sympathy for was Robert Helmuth, the bridge worker. His sections invoked real feelings of awe for the huge scope of the bridge project and for the storm-wracked alien landscape of Jupiter itself. But also the strange combination of frustration and fear from his unusual situation. Bob is to all intents on puposes trapped on the little moon base, with his fellow workers who are all conditioned mentally to revere the bridge. And yet Bob is having nightmares about the bridge, and seems more depressed by it all than in love with it. It's almost like being inside a fanatical cult, but one sanctioned by your own goverment, and one trapped on a far away asteroid with no real way off. These parts were (for me) probably the best written, and the most evocative of the whole book.
One minor thing that also bothered me in this novel, was a repeated error in the mathematical notation. Blish was quite cool by using actual mathematical formulas, which despite the age of the novel still gave an interesting and somewhat believable base for his science fiction. But there was a small error in the notation that irritated the hell out of me. In the main formula used, instead of being written 'G^(1/2)' (which also can be written as the square root of G) the notation 'G 1/2' was used (which is not the same at all), and which ruined the derivation of the next formula completely. I probably sound like I'm up my own ass, but mathematical and scientific errors can be as off-putting to me as grammatical and spelling errors are to other readers. It's a shame how a minor error can spoil things, but it happens.
On the whole tho, I thought They Shall Have Stars was a great start to the series, and I'm realling interested to see where things go from here. Onto the next book!
See my other reviews of Cities in Flight:
| #2 A Life for the Stars →
'They Shall Have Stars' was slightly difficult to get into, not only is the style of writing slightly different to the modern sci-fi and fantasy that I'm more used to. But the method is quite original, and reminds me in hindsight now of George R.R. Martin's method in the Song of Ice and Fire novels. The story is told from 3 different 3rd person points of view, which change each chapter.
In the first setting, we are in Washington, watching the character Senator Bliss Wagoner, who is making some very hard decisions. Scientifically, humanity is in a bit of a rut. No new advances have been made for decades, and humanity is no closer to interstellar travel than it was 50 years ago. The West is still pitted against Russia in what seems to be a war of science and ideas. But everything in the west is so mired in 'top secret' bigbrotherness, that no ideas can be shared and no progress is ever made. Wagoner is determined that new breakthoughs must be made, and turns to his friend Giuseppi Corsi for advice. Corsi advises Wagoner to seek innovation through ideas that have already been dismissed untried, where scientists have been labeled as crazy and ignored. And thus Wagoner's new science initiative is born, but whatever price is paid by humanity to carry out these crackpot experiments, the whole of it rests on Wagoner's shoulders.
In New York, Colonel Paige Russel of the Army Space Corps is dropping off soil samples collected on Jupiter V, at the Pfitzner Plant for analasis. Paige finds himself curious about why the soil samples are needed and manages to get himself a personal tour of the laboratory, during which he hears the cries of newborn babys. He refuses to believe the lies then told him about this, and becomes concerned about the real reason why babies might be involved in laboratory research. He hopes to gain some answers by going on a date with the secretary Anne, who knows more than a secretary normally would. But unwittingly he stumbles head over heels in love with Anne, and finds himself suddenly personally involved in the morally dubious research for the secret of anti-aging drugs.
And on Jupiter V, a moon of Jupiter, Bob Helmuth is one of a team of personal working on a Top Secret project. Remotely, through a virtual reality medium, Helmuth controls machines which are building an inhumanly large 'bridge' of ice above the surface of Jupiter. Helmuth and the other workers have been mentally conditioned into believing that the bridge is the most important thing to them, to ensure completion of the project even through the unbearable conditions they must put themselves. The bridge on Jupiter is a massive undertaking, but the goal and purpose of it is unknown even to the workers, but Helmuth has his own theories. He believes that the bridge may be part of an experiment to produce anti-gravity technology.
They Shall Have Stars was a great beginning to the quadrilogy. Whilst the unusual setup made it slightly slow to get into, once I was in I was completely hooked by the various mysteries going on.
I found Wagoner to be a particularly hard character to read. He has a determination to keep the civilisation of the West marching forward, but he doesn't seem to care what price they have to pay to get there. He is responsible for some quite horrific tragedies through ordering these experiments, and yet I'm not sure he shows much remorse for it. Yes he questions it, but obviously he sticks with the choice he made, and I'm not sure that I felt a great deal of emotion from him about it. I could just be missing it due to my unfamiliarity with the writing style, but I just wasn't completely happy with his character. Other reviewers have stated that Wagoner was intended to be a christ figure, but I can't say I saw that at all. Christ was willing to be sacrificed yes, and he knew that his disciples would suffer for him also, but he gave them that choice. Wagoner never gave a choice to the people he used. I could go into more detail, but I'd be risking spoilers, and probably getting into a big rant, and everyone hates rants. So I'll just leave that topic with this - if Blish did intend Wagoner to be a christ figure then he's lost a bit of my respect for that, I'd much prefer that Wagoner remain a driven but fallible man, the story works much better that way.
The character than I most felt the most sympathy for was Robert Helmuth, the bridge worker. His sections invoked real feelings of awe for the huge scope of the bridge project and for the storm-wracked alien landscape of Jupiter itself. But also the strange combination of frustration and fear from his unusual situation. Bob is to all intents on puposes trapped on the little moon base, with his fellow workers who are all conditioned mentally to revere the bridge. And yet Bob is having nightmares about the bridge, and seems more depressed by it all than in love with it. It's almost like being inside a fanatical cult, but one sanctioned by your own goverment, and one trapped on a far away asteroid with no real way off. These parts were (for me) probably the best written, and the most evocative of the whole book.
One minor thing that also bothered me in this novel, was a repeated error in the mathematical notation. Blish was quite cool by using actual mathematical formulas, which despite the age of the novel still gave an interesting and somewhat believable base for his science fiction. But there was a small error in the notation that irritated the hell out of me. In the main formula used, instead of being written 'G^(1/2)' (which also can be written as the square root of G) the notation 'G 1/2' was used (which is not the same at all), and which ruined the derivation of the next formula completely. I probably sound like I'm up my own ass, but mathematical and scientific errors can be as off-putting to me as grammatical and spelling errors are to other readers. It's a shame how a minor error can spoil things, but it happens.
On the whole tho, I thought They Shall Have Stars was a great start to the series, and I'm realling interested to see where things go from here. Onto the next book!
See my other reviews of Cities in Flight:
| #2 A Life for the Stars →
February 14, 2021
James Blish was very interested in Christianity, which he approached from an unusual perspective, and many of his novels are in essence imaginative new heresies. Two particularly startling examples are Black Easter and The Day After Judgement. In the first book, the war between Heaven and Hell ends with the Apocalypse and the appearance of Satan, bearing the news that God is dead. In the second, the final revelation is that even this is part of God's plan: Satan is unwillingly forced to become God himself, and assume the halo of the Divine. I can't decide whether this shows deep religious faith or is appallingly blasphemous, though I lean towards the former interpretation.
In They Shall Have Stars, Blish presents a novel interpretation of the Second Coming. One thing we ought to be able to count on is that, were He to return, it would be in an unexpected form. Here, Christ indeed returns and delivers on His promise to reward the faithful with everlasting life in the heavens, but not in the way most religious people had assumed. He reappears as Bliss Wagoner, the unassuming Senator for Alaska, who quietly diverts Federal funding to start two key research projects. One of them will eventually result in practical faster-than-light travel; the other in an immortality drug. At the end, humanity has used the fruits of science to literally gain everlasting life among the stars. Again, is this blasphemy, or deep respect for the Divine Plan, and the part that science and technology are intended to play in it? I'm sure I don't know, and I'd be curious to hear the opinion of someone who's actually studied Christian theology.
One of the interesting things about the book is that Blish never comes out and says in so many words that Wagoner is Christ, though he drops many clues. When I first read it as a teenager, I missed the point completely, and was puzzled by the brilliant final sentences. Wagoner has been put on trial for treason by Senator MacHinery (pretty clearly both Joe McCarthy and the Antichrist), and executed. From memory, the last two sentences are as follows:
With such a great idea, it's a pity that the book is rather sloppily written; but the positive aspects outweigh the negative ones, and I've read it two or three times. Recommended to anyone who's interested in unusual takes on religion.
In They Shall Have Stars, Blish presents a novel interpretation of the Second Coming. One thing we ought to be able to count on is that, were He to return, it would be in an unexpected form. Here, Christ indeed returns and delivers on His promise to reward the faithful with everlasting life in the heavens, but not in the way most religious people had assumed. He reappears as Bliss Wagoner, the unassuming Senator for Alaska, who quietly diverts Federal funding to start two key research projects. One of them will eventually result in practical faster-than-light travel; the other in an immortality drug. At the end, humanity has used the fruits of science to literally gain everlasting life among the stars. Again, is this blasphemy, or deep respect for the Divine Plan, and the part that science and technology are intended to play in it? I'm sure I don't know, and I'd be curious to hear the opinion of someone who's actually studied Christian theology.
One of the interesting things about the book is that Blish never comes out and says in so many words that Wagoner is Christ, though he drops many clues. When I first read it as a teenager, I missed the point completely, and was puzzled by the brilliant final sentences. Wagoner has been put on trial for treason by Senator MacHinery (pretty clearly both Joe McCarthy and the Antichrist), and executed. From memory, the last two sentences are as follows:
Later that day, a man named MacHinery told the Senate: 'Bliss Wagoner is dead'.Blish was always very good at endings.
As usual, MacHinery was wrong.
With such a great idea, it's a pity that the book is rather sloppily written; but the positive aspects outweigh the negative ones, and I've read it two or three times. Recommended to anyone who's interested in unusual takes on religion.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 9, 2017
You know how sometimes you can read a novel, give it a lousy review, and yet that review has nothing to do with the novel but more to do with your frame of mind when reading the novel? I believe that is partly what happened to me here, and what then happened with me on this series as I read the second book. I read the first two novels again with fewer breaks and distractions, and this time it stuck. The disparate elements made sense and I can see how Blish wrote a decent novel and better series. I will keep my original review attached as I wrote it at the bottom for my impressions of the first book of this series as a stand-alone, and submit my revision here now that I understand what role this first book fulfills in the series.
Asimov has his Foundation series, Clarke his 2001 A Space Odyssey series, Dickson his Dorsai, Herbert Dune. Blish has the Cities in Flight to be remembered by. This series, Blish's magnum opus, is the work he put his heart and soul into. It is also immensely challenging, I believe, for a 21st century reader, and will probably become increasingly obscure as the century proceeds. However, I think that unfortunate. There is a wonderful, original story here.
There are three storylines in this first novel of the series, all of which only come together only at the end. One of the storylines, the romance, is for me the charm of this first novel. What a shame it's only the politicians of the novel that survive to later books in the series, and then only in cameo. The romance in this story is weird. Without it we have a pure hard science work, but with it we have this fascinating character study. The novel's schism between hard and soft would not normally work for either type of reader, but Blish somehow manages to make it do so here. Maybe. Barely.
One very odd feature of this original romance is the extent to which Blish goes out of his way to ensure the reader understands how physically plain the ingenue is. Her very plainness is used to somehow heighten her other charms. Blish does a masterful job of making that work both for his protagonist, Paige, and the reader. Anne is the most intriguing character of the novel, and I wish Blish had let us spend more time with her.
The other two elements of the story are the hard science aspects, the anti-aging breakthrough in biochemistry and the anti-gravity breakthrough in physics and what those breakthroughs will come to means for space travel and the future of human society. The science and the math to justify it are kind of cool in that Blish bothers to make the attempt. I wonder if the formulas and the biochemistry names for his substances would make a real scientist go hmm, or engender just laughter at Blish's attempt. What is Blish's science background?
Set against a series with a Cold War backdrop of a millennia of realpolitik that the West ultimately loses by becoming like its enemy, Blish writes the rest of this novel only to set his series up. Doing this works for the series, but does not serve the novel as a stand-alone well. I like the series and give it higher marks for the later books. As a stand-alone novel, this book has the flaws of my original review. So, I can raise it only from two to three stars.
---------------------------------------------
ORIGINAL REVIEW BEGINS HERE
t took me two attempts and the keeping of a character chart to make it through this 159 page novel. I can not claim gratitude for the experience. There are essentially three storylines that all come together at the end. One of the storylines, the romance, had real potential and occasionally shows signs of life, almost bringing this clunker up from 2 to 3 stars, but naah, the romance was skipped over, and we never know really what's going on with Anne, Blish's most minor significant character, and the only interesting one. It's a shame Blish didn't confine his story to the romance and draw it out more to make it believable. The character of Anne, undeveloped as it is, has real intrigue. We readers have to help Blish by trying to imagine for ourselves what she can possibly see in Paige, which is rather unsatisfying.
The other two storylines, well, the less said the better. One of them is your typical 1950s/1960s Cold War drivel about how the Soviets are going to beat us if we're not careful, and it's our own inadequate government and J. Edgar Hoover's fault. The other is the building of a bridge on uninhabited and uninhabitable Jupiter. What's the point of building the bridge on Jupiter, you ask? The same as the point of climbing mountains: because it's there. What nonsense! To save the book, Blish by the end finds a better reason to build the bridge, but it's easy to see how tacked on the "real explanation" for the bridge is.
Finally, I want to deal with the tiresome Senator Bliss Waggoner as Christ figure "analysis" some readers entertain. Why is it tiresome? It's because would-be analysts want to see a Christ figure anytime anywhere some individual saves humanity. Ender Wiggin saves us from Buggers? He has to be Christ! Harry Potter saves us from he who cannot be named - how can Harry not be Christ in disguise? Not only does Potter do miracles, just like Christ, they both have two names! Harry Potter, Jesus Christ. Do you see how inevitable it all is now? So, some silly goats want to see Waggoner as Christ. To be Christ, wouldn't Waggoner need to perform a miracle or seven? Doesn't he have to die a martyr in order to ascend into the clouds and sit on the right hand of the Father, or something equally awesome?
I bought all four books in their original, separate paperback form, so I will continue on with the series, eventually. I hope it gets better.
Asimov has his Foundation series, Clarke his 2001 A Space Odyssey series, Dickson his Dorsai, Herbert Dune. Blish has the Cities in Flight to be remembered by. This series, Blish's magnum opus, is the work he put his heart and soul into. It is also immensely challenging, I believe, for a 21st century reader, and will probably become increasingly obscure as the century proceeds. However, I think that unfortunate. There is a wonderful, original story here.
There are three storylines in this first novel of the series, all of which only come together only at the end. One of the storylines, the romance, is for me the charm of this first novel. What a shame it's only the politicians of the novel that survive to later books in the series, and then only in cameo. The romance in this story is weird. Without it we have a pure hard science work, but with it we have this fascinating character study. The novel's schism between hard and soft would not normally work for either type of reader, but Blish somehow manages to make it do so here. Maybe. Barely.
One very odd feature of this original romance is the extent to which Blish goes out of his way to ensure the reader understands how physically plain the ingenue is. Her very plainness is used to somehow heighten her other charms. Blish does a masterful job of making that work both for his protagonist, Paige, and the reader. Anne is the most intriguing character of the novel, and I wish Blish had let us spend more time with her.
The other two elements of the story are the hard science aspects, the anti-aging breakthrough in biochemistry and the anti-gravity breakthrough in physics and what those breakthroughs will come to means for space travel and the future of human society. The science and the math to justify it are kind of cool in that Blish bothers to make the attempt. I wonder if the formulas and the biochemistry names for his substances would make a real scientist go hmm, or engender just laughter at Blish's attempt. What is Blish's science background?
Set against a series with a Cold War backdrop of a millennia of realpolitik that the West ultimately loses by becoming like its enemy, Blish writes the rest of this novel only to set his series up. Doing this works for the series, but does not serve the novel as a stand-alone well. I like the series and give it higher marks for the later books. As a stand-alone novel, this book has the flaws of my original review. So, I can raise it only from two to three stars.
---------------------------------------------
ORIGINAL REVIEW BEGINS HERE
t took me two attempts and the keeping of a character chart to make it through this 159 page novel. I can not claim gratitude for the experience. There are essentially three storylines that all come together at the end. One of the storylines, the romance, had real potential and occasionally shows signs of life, almost bringing this clunker up from 2 to 3 stars, but naah, the romance was skipped over, and we never know really what's going on with Anne, Blish's most minor significant character, and the only interesting one. It's a shame Blish didn't confine his story to the romance and draw it out more to make it believable. The character of Anne, undeveloped as it is, has real intrigue. We readers have to help Blish by trying to imagine for ourselves what she can possibly see in Paige, which is rather unsatisfying.
The other two storylines, well, the less said the better. One of them is your typical 1950s/1960s Cold War drivel about how the Soviets are going to beat us if we're not careful, and it's our own inadequate government and J. Edgar Hoover's fault. The other is the building of a bridge on uninhabited and uninhabitable Jupiter. What's the point of building the bridge on Jupiter, you ask? The same as the point of climbing mountains: because it's there. What nonsense! To save the book, Blish by the end finds a better reason to build the bridge, but it's easy to see how tacked on the "real explanation" for the bridge is.
Finally, I want to deal with the tiresome Senator Bliss Waggoner as Christ figure "analysis" some readers entertain. Why is it tiresome? It's because would-be analysts want to see a Christ figure anytime anywhere some individual saves humanity. Ender Wiggin saves us from Buggers? He has to be Christ! Harry Potter saves us from he who cannot be named - how can Harry not be Christ in disguise? Not only does Potter do miracles, just like Christ, they both have two names! Harry Potter, Jesus Christ. Do you see how inevitable it all is now? So, some silly goats want to see Waggoner as Christ. To be Christ, wouldn't Waggoner need to perform a miracle or seven? Doesn't he have to die a martyr in order to ascend into the clouds and sit on the right hand of the Father, or something equally awesome?
I bought all four books in their original, separate paperback form, so I will continue on with the series, eventually. I hope it gets better.
March 31, 2012
The book is okay. It does a decent job of setting up its characters, and establishing the technologies that will appear in future books in the series. However, always skates on the edge of turning into the Exciting Adventures Of Nothing Happening.
January 18, 2023
TLDR
Блишу респект, что начинает и заканчивает тетралогию он самыми сильными книгами. Первый том — вполне себе сайфай, пусть и не такой честный и чистый как в финале серии. Тут сразу disclaimer: идеи у Блиша круче, чем их консистентность и техническое исполнение. Но даже просто количество идей впечатляет. Мне показалось, что Города в Полете куда интереснее обсуждать, чем читать. Еще Блиш все приправляет религией, к месту и не к месту. В итоге я его за это даже полюбил, как немного несвязного, но повидавшего жизнь дедулю.
Первый впечатляет:
* Множеством отсылок к русской культуре и антуражем разросшегося маккартизма в Америке.
* Все это еще обернуто в теорию Шпенглера про закат западной цивилизации — что добавляет значительно глубины.
Детали
* В начале каждой главы Блиш приводит цитаты физиков и философов. И это очень круто работает. Даже получше чем в Основании Азимова. Жалко, что в следующих томах он перестает.
* Вообще, оформление книги классное: в ней и формулы и типографика со слоганами и схемы химических соединений. Мне по продуманности напомнило комикс House of X / Powers of X.
* Из русских деталей самая красивая — упоминание музыки Дмитрия Темкина.
* С названием анти-некротиков (анти-агатики в английской версии) Блиш немного накосячил. Но он даже сам про это намекает читателю в тексте, так что простим его.
* Читать в настоящем 2020м вымышленную переписку астронавтов в 2020м Блиша — и грустно и забавно. Не освоили мы космос пока ни разу :(
* Но мне больше всего понравились предсказания Блиша про философию науки. Он отлично понимает, что наука — это всего лишь метод. И он ни разу не рациональный. И будет становится все более дорогим в использовании с каждым годом. В этом смысле он пророчески предсказывает anything goes подход философа Фейерабенда за несколько десятилетий до.
Я прочитал эту книгу для обсуждения на подкасте про научную фантастику «Худо Не Было». Послушать можно тут: https://share.transistor.fm/s/7c76499c
Блишу респект, что начинает и заканчивает тетралогию он самыми сильными книгами. Первый том — вполне себе сайфай, пусть и не такой честный и чистый как в финале серии. Тут сразу disclaimer: идеи у Блиша круче, чем их консистентность и техническое исполнение. Но даже просто количество идей впечатляет. Мне показалось, что Города в Полете куда интереснее обсуждать, чем читать. Еще Блиш все приправляет религией, к месту и не к месту. В итоге я его за это даже полюбил, как немного несвязного, но повидавшего жизнь дедулю.
Первый впечатляет:
* Множеством отсылок к русской культуре и антуражем разросшегося маккартизма в Америке.
* Все это еще обернуто в теорию Шпенглера про закат западной цивилизации — что добавляет значительно глубины.
The layman, the “practical” man, the man in the street, says, What is that to me? The answer is positive and weighty. Our life is entirely dependent on the established doctrines of ethics, sociology, political economy, government, law, medical science, etc. This affects everyone consciously or unconsciously, the man in the street in the first place, because he is the most defenseless.
— ALFRED KORZYBSKI
Детали
* В начале каждой главы Блиш приводит цитаты физиков и философов. И это очень круто работает. Даже получше чем в Основании Азимова. Жалко, что в следующих томах он перестает.
* Вообще, оформление книги классное: в ней и формулы и типографика со слоганами и схемы химических соединений. Мне по продуманности напомнило комикс House of X / Powers of X.
* Из русских деталей самая красивая — упоминание музыки Дмитрия Темкина.
* С названием анти-некротиков (анти-агатики в английской версии) Блиш немного накосячил. Но он даже сам про это намекает читателю в тексте, так что простим его.
* Читать в настоящем 2020м вымышленную переписку астронавтов в 2020м Блиша — и грустно и забавно. Не освоили мы космос пока ни разу :(
* Но мне больше всего понравились предсказания Блиша про философию науки. Он отлично понимает, что наука — это всего лишь метод. И он ни разу не рациональный. И будет становится все более дорогим в использовании с каждым годом. В этом смысле он пророчески предсказывает anything goes подход философа Фейерабенда за несколько десятилетий до.
Я прочитал эту книгу для обсуждения на подкасте про научную фантастику «Худо Не Было». Послушать можно тут: https://share.transistor.fm/s/7c76499c
March 10, 2018
After the recent completion of the re-read of the Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov, this is a suitably appropriate follow-up, though the series’ publication is complicated.
These days, the series, Cities in Flight, is published as an omnibus, with the four books in internal chronological order. However, rather like Triplanetary in E.E. Doc Smith’s Lensman series, the first book published is not the first one to read in the series (although Adam Roberts suggests that you might want to start with it.) Here, that’s the sequence of short stories fixed-up to make Earthman, Come Home (1953), the third book in this set of four.
But They Shall Have Stars sets up the background to those events, so that is where we start. The tale begins in 2013 in a world of repression and constant observation, rather like that suggested by Charlie Stross in his more recent Merchant War series. We quickly discover that scientists, after years of repression and declining funding, have become less willing to take risks.
As a result, the scientific process is in decline, with ever diminishing results. There is no entrepreneurial figurehead, no Elon Musk (or for those of you old enough to remember, no Heinlein’s Delos D. Harriman from The Man Who Sold the Moon) to kickstart space exploration, although politically the Machiavellian actions of Senator Bliss Wagoner keep all of the elements in play. Like Foundation, much of the book is about indirect political actions rather than direct actions.
Instead, we are in a McCarthy-esque scenario here, called the “Age of Defence”, with people being closely scrutinised by the FBI and their leader Francis X. MacHinery and put to trial. Although this is a clear nod of recognition to the McCarthyism of the 1950’s, it may be worth a pause here to realise that this was written sixty-odd years ago and not a current news report.) The Cold War is developing quickly, with clear references to the war between America and the Soviets.
Nevertheless, upon the advice of scientist Dr. Corsi in the first chapter to look at the more extreme science out there (but not too extreme), They Shall Have Stars shows us the consequences of this, which, when put together, bring the book to an appropriate conclusion.
The first of these innovations is the development of an anti-agathic drug, which potentially means near-immortality, or at least an extension of the average human lifespan. Secondly, new construction techniques, initially used to build a ‘bridge’ in the hellish conditions of Jupiter’s atmosphere, lead to the construction of buildings capable of withstanding enormous strain. Lastly, the development of the ‘spindizzy’, a faster-than-light energy drive gives the heroes the means of propelling themselves away from Earth.
There are places where the book threatens to spin away into Foundation-esque diatribe, but overall it is reined in pretty well. Having said that, there’s the odd lapse into elements seen as rather inappropriate today. Most noticeable to me were comments made (more than once) about a main female character being plain-looking, although to be fair, she puts up a spirited defence in return, and I suspect that the original point was that she is not the archetype of the s-f pulps, but a woman quite capable of making her own choices.
What I had forgotten most about is the book’s various ruminations on faith, though I should not have been surprised from the author of A Case of Conscience (1958). This adds a further dimension to the otherwise hard-science discussion of the novel. We have the rise of religious groups called ‘The Believers’, who are quite aggressive in their marketing of religion, otherwise in decline (something else sounding familiar at the moment!), but at the same time we have a belief in science and the determination of super-science to solve engineering miracles and mathematical problems.
The culmination of this super-science is the creation of ‘The Bridge’ on Jupiter. This was always something I thought far-fetched on reading – it’s not even really a bridge! - and even though its purpose is clearer here on re-reading – it’s a means of developing new engineering techniques in extremely hostile conditions, to show that as humans ‘we can’, and to also throw the Soviets off the scent of the real work going on behind the scenes – I’m still not convinced. Thinking literally (as we perhaps should be here!), it is actually more of a thought-construct, allowing the author to present ideas and their consequences, as well as to illustrate the cumulative effect of people working under stress.
Strangely, most troubling to me in this reread was the suggestion that the people working there have had to be ‘conditioned’ to work in such circumstances – a sign that in this future both the Americans, and presumably the Soviets, are not beyond brainwashing to get what they want.
In the end though, They Shall Have Stars (a quote from the final part of the novel) is a story of disparate outsiders, willing to push boundaries and extend the frontiers, succeeding against a background of repression and victimisation. The echoes between this and American history, if not it’s values, are deliberate and is in no doubt part of the novel’s endurance.
But there is more to this than a ‘feel-good’ story. Comparing this with the dialogue of The Foundation Trilogy, the writing here is less stilted and more mature, more sensible and perhaps even more realistic. Whilst there are moments of Asimov-like pontificating, it does not jar quite as much as it did in the Foundation books. Instead, its concepts are thoughtfully presented and the epic consequences exciting to follow, which makes it, in the main, a page-turner.
In tough times, it is perhaps understandable that some will turn to more optimistic fiction to salve their despair. Originally written after WW2, with the Cold War in its chilly grasp, They Shall Have Stars is a rallying call to the dreamers, to those encouraged to think outside the box, despite all the odds. It shows a fresh start for Mankind and the enduring challenge of a new frontier and, as written by a skilled author, is a memorable one. It’s not entirely for contemporary tastes, and yet I am surprised how, unlike some less worthy efforts, this classic has become rather forgotten these days. Blish may be better known for his early Star Trek novelisations these days, but his own fiction shows much of merit. They Shall Have the Stars is worth a read, as long as the reader is aware, like with Foundation, that the series gets better. Personally I don’t think it’ll be too long before I read the next book in the series.
These days, the series, Cities in Flight, is published as an omnibus, with the four books in internal chronological order. However, rather like Triplanetary in E.E. Doc Smith’s Lensman series, the first book published is not the first one to read in the series (although Adam Roberts suggests that you might want to start with it.) Here, that’s the sequence of short stories fixed-up to make Earthman, Come Home (1953), the third book in this set of four.
But They Shall Have Stars sets up the background to those events, so that is where we start. The tale begins in 2013 in a world of repression and constant observation, rather like that suggested by Charlie Stross in his more recent Merchant War series. We quickly discover that scientists, after years of repression and declining funding, have become less willing to take risks.
As a result, the scientific process is in decline, with ever diminishing results. There is no entrepreneurial figurehead, no Elon Musk (or for those of you old enough to remember, no Heinlein’s Delos D. Harriman from The Man Who Sold the Moon) to kickstart space exploration, although politically the Machiavellian actions of Senator Bliss Wagoner keep all of the elements in play. Like Foundation, much of the book is about indirect political actions rather than direct actions.
Instead, we are in a McCarthy-esque scenario here, called the “Age of Defence”, with people being closely scrutinised by the FBI and their leader Francis X. MacHinery and put to trial. Although this is a clear nod of recognition to the McCarthyism of the 1950’s, it may be worth a pause here to realise that this was written sixty-odd years ago and not a current news report.) The Cold War is developing quickly, with clear references to the war between America and the Soviets.
Nevertheless, upon the advice of scientist Dr. Corsi in the first chapter to look at the more extreme science out there (but not too extreme), They Shall Have Stars shows us the consequences of this, which, when put together, bring the book to an appropriate conclusion.
The first of these innovations is the development of an anti-agathic drug, which potentially means near-immortality, or at least an extension of the average human lifespan. Secondly, new construction techniques, initially used to build a ‘bridge’ in the hellish conditions of Jupiter’s atmosphere, lead to the construction of buildings capable of withstanding enormous strain. Lastly, the development of the ‘spindizzy’, a faster-than-light energy drive gives the heroes the means of propelling themselves away from Earth.
There are places where the book threatens to spin away into Foundation-esque diatribe, but overall it is reined in pretty well. Having said that, there’s the odd lapse into elements seen as rather inappropriate today. Most noticeable to me were comments made (more than once) about a main female character being plain-looking, although to be fair, she puts up a spirited defence in return, and I suspect that the original point was that she is not the archetype of the s-f pulps, but a woman quite capable of making her own choices.
What I had forgotten most about is the book’s various ruminations on faith, though I should not have been surprised from the author of A Case of Conscience (1958). This adds a further dimension to the otherwise hard-science discussion of the novel. We have the rise of religious groups called ‘The Believers’, who are quite aggressive in their marketing of religion, otherwise in decline (something else sounding familiar at the moment!), but at the same time we have a belief in science and the determination of super-science to solve engineering miracles and mathematical problems.
The culmination of this super-science is the creation of ‘The Bridge’ on Jupiter. This was always something I thought far-fetched on reading – it’s not even really a bridge! - and even though its purpose is clearer here on re-reading – it’s a means of developing new engineering techniques in extremely hostile conditions, to show that as humans ‘we can’, and to also throw the Soviets off the scent of the real work going on behind the scenes – I’m still not convinced. Thinking literally (as we perhaps should be here!), it is actually more of a thought-construct, allowing the author to present ideas and their consequences, as well as to illustrate the cumulative effect of people working under stress.
Strangely, most troubling to me in this reread was the suggestion that the people working there have had to be ‘conditioned’ to work in such circumstances – a sign that in this future both the Americans, and presumably the Soviets, are not beyond brainwashing to get what they want.
In the end though, They Shall Have Stars (a quote from the final part of the novel) is a story of disparate outsiders, willing to push boundaries and extend the frontiers, succeeding against a background of repression and victimisation. The echoes between this and American history, if not it’s values, are deliberate and is in no doubt part of the novel’s endurance.
But there is more to this than a ‘feel-good’ story. Comparing this with the dialogue of The Foundation Trilogy, the writing here is less stilted and more mature, more sensible and perhaps even more realistic. Whilst there are moments of Asimov-like pontificating, it does not jar quite as much as it did in the Foundation books. Instead, its concepts are thoughtfully presented and the epic consequences exciting to follow, which makes it, in the main, a page-turner.
In tough times, it is perhaps understandable that some will turn to more optimistic fiction to salve their despair. Originally written after WW2, with the Cold War in its chilly grasp, They Shall Have Stars is a rallying call to the dreamers, to those encouraged to think outside the box, despite all the odds. It shows a fresh start for Mankind and the enduring challenge of a new frontier and, as written by a skilled author, is a memorable one. It’s not entirely for contemporary tastes, and yet I am surprised how, unlike some less worthy efforts, this classic has become rather forgotten these days. Blish may be better known for his early Star Trek novelisations these days, but his own fiction shows much of merit. They Shall Have the Stars is worth a read, as long as the reader is aware, like with Foundation, that the series gets better. Personally I don’t think it’ll be too long before I read the next book in the series.
June 26, 2024
To be honest, I thought the iconic Boston album cover was inspired by the Cities in Flight series, of which They Shall Have Stars is the first in the series. But I can find no evidence of that.
For old science fiction, this one had some elements to it that were surprisingly not dated. There were female characters—one major, one minor—that held technical jobs. Both were described as being rather plain instead of being made to uphold the era's standard of beauty. One woman's Latin name was just that, a name, as "such once-valid tickets no longer meant anything among the West's uniformly mixed-race population." Blish was apparently downright progressive for his time.
While paper is still a thing, robots can be operated remotely via VR gear. "Believer" terrorists spray gasses at people to induce feelings of euphoria or shame. Fireworks can be designed to bring sparkling messages to the sky.
Published in 1956, Blish was living in an America deep in the Cold War and infected by McCarthyism. So he took that fear and paranoia and ran with it. Domestic spying is rampant, and everyone, including Congressmen, has to watch what they say and do lest they be tossed in prison. But there's one senator that's determined to restore freedom to his fellow Americans.
But Big Science is still a thing. There's a "bridge to nowhere" down in the depths of Jupiter being used for scientific study and experiments. Remote workers on Jupiter's moons use VR to control robots on the bridge to affect repairs in the gas giant's tumultuous atmosphere. The experience can be off-putting and tends to stress out the workers.
And some astronaut has retrieved soil samples for a pharmaceutical company in hopes of discovering something useful to aid mankind. He's miffed that no one at the company is dropping everything to attend to him. While waiting he gets suspicious that there's something going on at the company. Impatient with waiting, he gets downright mean with a receptionist, and it takes a while for him to stop being an ass.
These three plotlines take nearly the entire length of this short novel (novella by today's standards) to bear fruit. I couldn't figure out where any of them were leading or how they were connected until the big reveal. The astronaut's work with the pharmaceutical company offered some clues, but the disgruntled bridge worker's story was just so much angst. If the individual storylines did more, then I would've liked it more.
For old science fiction, this one had some elements to it that were surprisingly not dated. There were female characters—one major, one minor—that held technical jobs. Both were described as being rather plain instead of being made to uphold the era's standard of beauty. One woman's Latin name was just that, a name, as "such once-valid tickets no longer meant anything among the West's uniformly mixed-race population." Blish was apparently downright progressive for his time.
While paper is still a thing, robots can be operated remotely via VR gear. "Believer" terrorists spray gasses at people to induce feelings of euphoria or shame. Fireworks can be designed to bring sparkling messages to the sky.
Published in 1956, Blish was living in an America deep in the Cold War and infected by McCarthyism. So he took that fear and paranoia and ran with it. Domestic spying is rampant, and everyone, including Congressmen, has to watch what they say and do lest they be tossed in prison. But there's one senator that's determined to restore freedom to his fellow Americans.
But Big Science is still a thing. There's a "bridge to nowhere" down in the depths of Jupiter being used for scientific study and experiments. Remote workers on Jupiter's moons use VR to control robots on the bridge to affect repairs in the gas giant's tumultuous atmosphere. The experience can be off-putting and tends to stress out the workers.
And some astronaut has retrieved soil samples for a pharmaceutical company in hopes of discovering something useful to aid mankind. He's miffed that no one at the company is dropping everything to attend to him. While waiting he gets suspicious that there's something going on at the company. Impatient with waiting, he gets downright mean with a receptionist, and it takes a while for him to stop being an ass.
These three plotlines take nearly the entire length of this short novel (novella by today's standards) to bear fruit. I couldn't figure out where any of them were leading or how they were connected until the big reveal. The astronaut's work with the pharmaceutical company offered some clues, but the disgruntled bridge worker's story was just so much angst. If the individual storylines did more, then I would've liked it more.
June 22, 2015
James Blish's Getting Along was one of the few outstanding pieces in Harlan Ellison's 1972 anthology Again, Dangerous Visions. I was so impressed with the quality and style of Blish's writing that I got Cities in Flight, an omnibus of four short novels, the first being They Shall Have Stars.
I initially found it a little hard to get into. The writing is good, but at first I could only see the fragments, from the points of view of various characters both on Earth and on Jupiter, without seeing the whole picture. After it started to come together, I finished the second half in one sitting.
First published in 1956, this book doesn't seem dated. Of course there are some things that couldn't have been predicted, such as the demise of the Soviet Union. A factor in the book is the power of the USSR and the expectation that it will overwhelm the west.
The science is hard in this science fiction, including technical explanations and fomulae, for the two technological advances that presumably lead to the next three books in the series. They are the discovery of anti-aging medicine and anti-gravity technology, which will make interstellar travel feasible.
I initially found it a little hard to get into. The writing is good, but at first I could only see the fragments, from the points of view of various characters both on Earth and on Jupiter, without seeing the whole picture. After it started to come together, I finished the second half in one sitting.
First published in 1956, this book doesn't seem dated. Of course there are some things that couldn't have been predicted, such as the demise of the Soviet Union. A factor in the book is the power of the USSR and the expectation that it will overwhelm the west.
The science is hard in this science fiction, including technical explanations and fomulae, for the two technological advances that presumably lead to the next three books in the series. They are the discovery of anti-aging medicine and anti-gravity technology, which will make interstellar travel feasible.
February 14, 2018
1979 grade B
2009 grade B
2018 grade C+
Series book C0
This is actually a prequel, written after the main two books. It can be skipped.
2018
This is either going to be a book to savor or to speed through depending on your preferences. I ended up speeding through it. The story is 6 parts political maneuverings, machinations, speculation, and intrigue; 3 parts philosophical and psychological pondering; and only 1 part theoretical physics, biology, chemistry, and engineering. All of that is just leading up to the to the invention of the "spindizzy" and immortality drugs. Since I was interested in the functional aspects of the the author's use of the "spindizzy," it was not of much use to me. Yes, it can be skipped.
2009 grade B
2018 grade C+
Series book C0
This is actually a prequel, written after the main two books. It can be skipped.
2018
This is either going to be a book to savor or to speed through depending on your preferences. I ended up speeding through it. The story is 6 parts political maneuverings, machinations, speculation, and intrigue; 3 parts philosophical and psychological pondering; and only 1 part theoretical physics, biology, chemistry, and engineering. All of that is just leading up to the to the invention of the "spindizzy" and immortality drugs. Since I was interested in the functional aspects of the the author's use of the "spindizzy," it was not of much use to me. Yes, it can be skipped.
February 9, 2014
The introduction to this book mentions that it probably shouldn't be the first book you read of the series. It is quite bogged down in details, without any details. The characters are strange outlines of characters. The story is almost driven with out a plot. Just endure it and something will happen.
Read
July 25, 20232023 reads, #59. DID NOT FINISH. I originally picked this up because of the "Five Books About..." series at the blog of science-fiction publisher Tor, I believe in that case the subject being five books about alternative forms of spaceflight besides fuel-based rockets. It was written by James Blish, one of those Silver Age also-rans who was writing and publishing sci-fi in the 1950s that sounded almost exactly like his peers Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein, but who ended up not achieving nearly the same kind of success as them. (He's arguably most famous now not for his original work but for being the first-ever author of official Star Trek non-canon novels, back in the late 1960s soon after the original series first went off the air, including the now classic Spock Must Die!)
As such, then, it's important to know that Blish's work suffers from all the same problems as Asimov and Heinlein as well, only magnified and then intensified since his writing doesn't contain the kinds of strengths that allowed Asimov and Heinlein's work to counterbalance the weaknesses. In particular, one of the big drawbacks here is that Blish very much defined himself (at least with these books) as a "hard" sci-fi author, meaning that the main point of his books is to actually examine the real science behind whatever subject is being discussed (in this case the human race's discovery of "anti-gravity," with Blish positing this development a mere two decades after the real-life discovery of "anti-matter," basically allowing his fictional humanity to begin interstellar exploration in the year 2018); but as we've discovered now, 75 years later, what the writers of the '50s called "hard" sci-fi was actually based on little more than academic theories at the time that have largely been disproven by now, meaning that the "hard" sci-fi they thought they were writing has turned out to be as soft and squishy as a children's book about little Mary Sue playing with her adorable little dog.
That's a huge problem with authors like Blish, because when you remove the debunked science from their stories, almost nothing is left from a literary aspect, with Blish (much like Asimov and Heinlein) not really that interested in such petty things as "compelling characters" or "believable dialogue" or "a three-act plot that makes any sense whatsoever." Now add that he suffers from the same woman-hating problem as all these other bullying '50s nerds (there's literally two female characters in this entire novel, and both of them are described primarily by how fuckable they are in the eyes of James Blish), and you've got yourself a book that's nearly impossible to actually get through in the 2020s, much less enjoy. I originally checked out the four-book omnibus of this series from the library, entitled Cities in Flight; but I have to admit, I couldn't even get halfway through the first book in the tetralogy (1956's They Shall Have Stars) without throwing away the entire thing in bored, offended disgust, which unfortunately has been the case with most 1950s sci-fi I've tried to read here in the 21st century. That's a shame, because this important genre deserves a better history than the one filled with manipulative sexists writing terrible books that we actually have; but it doesn't stop the fact that this is now a book to be avoided instead of celebrated, and that the problematic elements regarding the origin of modern science-fiction is destined to simply get worse with each passing year instead of better. It should all be kept in mind when deciding whether or not to pick up a copy yourself.
As such, then, it's important to know that Blish's work suffers from all the same problems as Asimov and Heinlein as well, only magnified and then intensified since his writing doesn't contain the kinds of strengths that allowed Asimov and Heinlein's work to counterbalance the weaknesses. In particular, one of the big drawbacks here is that Blish very much defined himself (at least with these books) as a "hard" sci-fi author, meaning that the main point of his books is to actually examine the real science behind whatever subject is being discussed (in this case the human race's discovery of "anti-gravity," with Blish positing this development a mere two decades after the real-life discovery of "anti-matter," basically allowing his fictional humanity to begin interstellar exploration in the year 2018); but as we've discovered now, 75 years later, what the writers of the '50s called "hard" sci-fi was actually based on little more than academic theories at the time that have largely been disproven by now, meaning that the "hard" sci-fi they thought they were writing has turned out to be as soft and squishy as a children's book about little Mary Sue playing with her adorable little dog.
That's a huge problem with authors like Blish, because when you remove the debunked science from their stories, almost nothing is left from a literary aspect, with Blish (much like Asimov and Heinlein) not really that interested in such petty things as "compelling characters" or "believable dialogue" or "a three-act plot that makes any sense whatsoever." Now add that he suffers from the same woman-hating problem as all these other bullying '50s nerds (there's literally two female characters in this entire novel, and both of them are described primarily by how fuckable they are in the eyes of James Blish), and you've got yourself a book that's nearly impossible to actually get through in the 2020s, much less enjoy. I originally checked out the four-book omnibus of this series from the library, entitled Cities in Flight; but I have to admit, I couldn't even get halfway through the first book in the tetralogy (1956's They Shall Have Stars) without throwing away the entire thing in bored, offended disgust, which unfortunately has been the case with most 1950s sci-fi I've tried to read here in the 21st century. That's a shame, because this important genre deserves a better history than the one filled with manipulative sexists writing terrible books that we actually have; but it doesn't stop the fact that this is now a book to be avoided instead of celebrated, and that the problematic elements regarding the origin of modern science-fiction is destined to simply get worse with each passing year instead of better. It should all be kept in mind when deciding whether or not to pick up a copy yourself.
August 8, 2018
Pfitzner is dong drug research. Colonel Paige Russell is one of many spacemen who collected soil samples for Pfitzner. He's on leave and out of curiosity brings the last samples to their New Your laboratory in person. He is hoping for a grand tour or something and gets it. Then gets a date with the frigid receptionist. They kind of hit it off before an ending argument. Paige goes back the next day to apologize.
Meanwhile on Jupiter a team from the West is building a bridge. Bob Helmuth is getting kind of sick of the job. He's the best foreman around, but he knows in his heart that Jupiter is going to knock it down.
On the political side we have an inkling that Wagoner has commissioned this bridge for some sort of scientific testing of gravity that can only be done with a planet of Jupiter's size. That part is all hush-hush, for public consumption it's some sort of new weapon. All of the secrecy is due to the war the ideologies of the Russians and the West.
How was it? OK. The little romance between Paige and Anne is intriguing but we don't get much of it. Just Anne spilling a few secrets to Paige which forces him to come work for Pfitzner. The first scenes on Jupiter V are a bit tedious, the last couple get interesting. We're told the bridge on Jupiter is to test some theory, I'd like to see some scientists there making measurements or doing experiments. Helmuth seeing a robot under the bridge for one page in the next to last chapter was more baffling than elucidating. If it comes from no where, you might as well go all out and call in a troll.
This is book one of the Cities in Flight novels, mainly an expanded prologue for the three books set millennia in the future.
Meanwhile on Jupiter a team from the West is building a bridge. Bob Helmuth is getting kind of sick of the job. He's the best foreman around, but he knows in his heart that Jupiter is going to knock it down.
On the political side we have an inkling that Wagoner has commissioned this bridge for some sort of scientific testing of gravity that can only be done with a planet of Jupiter's size. That part is all hush-hush, for public consumption it's some sort of new weapon. All of the secrecy is due to the war the ideologies of the Russians and the West.
How was it? OK. The little romance between Paige and Anne is intriguing but we don't get much of it. Just Anne spilling a few secrets to Paige which forces him to come work for Pfitzner. The first scenes on Jupiter V are a bit tedious, the last couple get interesting. We're told the bridge on Jupiter is to test some theory, I'd like to see some scientists there making measurements or doing experiments. Helmuth seeing a robot under the bridge for one page in the next to last chapter was more baffling than elucidating. If it comes from no where, you might as well go all out and call in a troll.
This is book one of the Cities in Flight novels, mainly an expanded prologue for the three books set millennia in the future.
January 6, 2018
Rating: Despite its age it holds up for me.
I've always remembered this series as one of my favorites from when I was young. I finally found an ebook edition, so wanted to re-visit it.
It held up. It is upbeat, despite portraying an Earth which is a mess, torn by upheaval and despair, politically a mess. Yet visionaries look for ways to change the paradigm, and reach for the stars.
I'm tired of depressing books, and want ones that uplift us, that give us hope and remind us that we can achieve fabulous things so long as we believe we can. We can't just give in to despair. We have to strive against it.
I've always remembered this series as one of my favorites from when I was young. I finally found an ebook edition, so wanted to re-visit it.
It held up. It is upbeat, despite portraying an Earth which is a mess, torn by upheaval and despair, politically a mess. Yet visionaries look for ways to change the paradigm, and reach for the stars.
I'm tired of depressing books, and want ones that uplift us, that give us hope and remind us that we can achieve fabulous things so long as we believe we can. We can't just give in to despair. We have to strive against it.
February 26, 2017
There's a kind of vertigo with 'expired' science fiction... well this one expires next year... it takes place in 2018. When he wrote it, it was a novel of the future. Now it is an alternate history novel. So in the alternate history, the US government has been run by McCarthyites for generations and the Soviet Union is still going and so both sides are weird, paranoid secret-police states. There are a lot of manned, scientific outposts throughout the solar system but especially on the Jovian moons. On the not so science-fictiony-anymore side: people seem to think receptionists should be hired based on their looks, the Internet never happened and microfilm book projectors automatically turn the pages for you.
Beyond just the pleasure of science fiction in general, and the special strangeness of expired science fiction... although in this case it seems like Blish got the politics more or less correct, even while offering some goofy pseudo-science that wouldn't fly in hard s.f. today... beyond all that... I really liked the portrayal of burn-out. There's this one character, see, he works on a stupid, expensive, meaningless project. His alienation is made all the worse because they are all using VR controlled 'beetles,' and there's hardly any real human contact. He's one of the best at the job, but he thinks of it as hell. Everyone on the project has been 'conditioned,' and they are not really sure how much of their personalities and feelings are from the conditioning. I loved that sub-plot. Seems like more and more of us on Earth are going to be working jobs like that. Also, an S.F. book today would just have AIs doing that work, and then of course, they wouldn't think of it as hell and all that. So that was nice.
Otherwise, it's really just a long prologue to what is supposedly great space opera: the Cities in Flight series... looking forward to getting into it for real with book two. Although wikipedia has me thinking I should get the 'omnibus' edition instead of borrowing individual volumes like I was planning... since apparently Blish made changes over the years. Ah, whatever. Maybe I will ask Goodreads about that.
Beyond just the pleasure of science fiction in general, and the special strangeness of expired science fiction... although in this case it seems like Blish got the politics more or less correct, even while offering some goofy pseudo-science that wouldn't fly in hard s.f. today... beyond all that... I really liked the portrayal of burn-out. There's this one character, see, he works on a stupid, expensive, meaningless project. His alienation is made all the worse because they are all using VR controlled 'beetles,' and there's hardly any real human contact. He's one of the best at the job, but he thinks of it as hell. Everyone on the project has been 'conditioned,' and they are not really sure how much of their personalities and feelings are from the conditioning. I loved that sub-plot. Seems like more and more of us on Earth are going to be working jobs like that. Also, an S.F. book today would just have AIs doing that work, and then of course, they wouldn't think of it as hell and all that. So that was nice.
Otherwise, it's really just a long prologue to what is supposedly great space opera: the Cities in Flight series... looking forward to getting into it for real with book two. Although wikipedia has me thinking I should get the 'omnibus' edition instead of borrowing individual volumes like I was planning... since apparently Blish made changes over the years. Ah, whatever. Maybe I will ask Goodreads about that.
September 8, 2020
After having visited it already in '2010: Odyssey Two', this is my second trip to the Jovian system. I have to admit that I didn't enjoy this as much as its famous sf-cousin. In fact, this first entry to the Cities in Flight-series is amazingly uneventful. This might not be a bad thing: I love the uneventfulness of a Raymond Carver or the likes, and why not built this into a sf-setting?
It's the mid-2010s and the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States is as strong as ever. As is established in the introductory chapter, scientific progress has seemingly mostly come to a halt, especially in regards to attempts of making space travel possible. However, the US is building a bridge-like structure on Jupiter, whose purpose (or even existence) is unknown to the public, though it seems clear that it is some sort of an instrument for research. Moreover, back on Earth, a pharmaceutical company specialized on the development of antibiotics is engaged in some secret mission for the government.
The plot follows three different threads (that come together as the book approaches its ending): a politician who pursues a secret agenda and whose role and aims are quite unclear in the beginning of the book; the storyline of a Commander who just came back to Earth after being in Space (including Jupiter) for some time and who had the task of bringing back soil samples to the above-mentioned company, later starting some sort of a love-relation with the company's secretary; and a scientist or technician who is working on the bridge, mainly interesting for having a strange feeling about the whole project.
The book is structured around ideas of how politically motivated secrecy influences scientific development, while at the same time developments in the field of science (or the lack thereof) has political consequences. I have to admit that I hoped that these themes would be way more explored throughout the book. It is kind of interesting how the earlier events of the book can be seen in a new light after the veil of secrecy is lifted on the last pages. However, it's not as if the reader is fed more and more information as the book progresses; rather, there is very little detail to the whole thing and the reader is left entirely in the dark for pretty much the entirety of the book. Instead, there are some more concrete events happening, but nothing interesting enough to really draw my interest. It's not terrible (if you like this particular sf-in-space atmosphere), but not all that exciting either.
Rating: 2.5/5
It's the mid-2010s and the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States is as strong as ever. As is established in the introductory chapter, scientific progress has seemingly mostly come to a halt, especially in regards to attempts of making space travel possible. However, the US is building a bridge-like structure on Jupiter, whose purpose (or even existence) is unknown to the public, though it seems clear that it is some sort of an instrument for research. Moreover, back on Earth, a pharmaceutical company specialized on the development of antibiotics is engaged in some secret mission for the government.
The plot follows three different threads (that come together as the book approaches its ending): a politician who pursues a secret agenda and whose role and aims are quite unclear in the beginning of the book; the storyline of a Commander who just came back to Earth after being in Space (including Jupiter) for some time and who had the task of bringing back soil samples to the above-mentioned company, later starting some sort of a love-relation with the company's secretary; and a scientist or technician who is working on the bridge, mainly interesting for having a strange feeling about the whole project.
The book is structured around ideas of how politically motivated secrecy influences scientific development, while at the same time developments in the field of science (or the lack thereof) has political consequences. I have to admit that I hoped that these themes would be way more explored throughout the book. It is kind of interesting how the earlier events of the book can be seen in a new light after the veil of secrecy is lifted on the last pages. However, it's not as if the reader is fed more and more information as the book progresses; rather, there is very little detail to the whole thing and the reader is left entirely in the dark for pretty much the entirety of the book. Instead, there are some more concrete events happening, but nothing interesting enough to really draw my interest. It's not terrible (if you like this particular sf-in-space atmosphere), but not all that exciting either.
Rating: 2.5/5
July 3, 2013
The first of the Cities in Flight novels, my all time favourite series as a teenager, so it was interesting coming back to it 40 years later.
By modern standards, the writing creaks abysmally. But like that other great 1950s series, Asimov's Foundation books, it really doesn't matter, because both series are based on sweeping, wonderful ideas that few others have ever come close to matching. So, yes, the treatment of women seems painfully dated. Yes, the dialogue could be out of a 1930s B movie. And some of the predictions (this novel is set around the present day, written in 1956) are woefully inaccurate. But that misses the point.
Firstly, Blish superbly captures the psychology and politics of space travel, even though he is writing before Sputnik was launched. Just as in the present, there has been a hiatus for decades. It really isn't going anywhere and needs a whole new direction to get itself going. And secondly, the underlying scientific basis of the book (and the other three novels) is beautifully thought through.
Later novels are more about storytelling, but this one (written after the third in actual sequence, so it's technically a prequel), is all about politics and science with a mere wisp of a plot to string it together. The politics is painfully told - not surprising given it was written in the McCarthy era - while the two very different strands of science have remarkable detail for fiction. The scientific themes are anti-aging (or more precisely, anti-death) biology and antigravity. When the antigravity technology is explored we get the likes of Dirac and Blackett invoked, and there are even equations. That part of the book could be popular science, rather than fiction, if it weren't for the fact that one crucial part is made up.
If you took this book in isolation as a novel it would be interesting for its scientific and political content, but probably not worth reading. But as the foundations on which the other three novels are built, it is essential before getting on to the real meat. Here is where we meet the best bit of SF space technology ever, the spindizzy, prior to its role in lifting whole cities in the later books. (Why these aren't movies by now, I have no idea. Modern CGI would work wonders with cities in flight.)
Read it, but only as a stepping stone the second book.
By modern standards, the writing creaks abysmally. But like that other great 1950s series, Asimov's Foundation books, it really doesn't matter, because both series are based on sweeping, wonderful ideas that few others have ever come close to matching. So, yes, the treatment of women seems painfully dated. Yes, the dialogue could be out of a 1930s B movie. And some of the predictions (this novel is set around the present day, written in 1956) are woefully inaccurate. But that misses the point.
Firstly, Blish superbly captures the psychology and politics of space travel, even though he is writing before Sputnik was launched. Just as in the present, there has been a hiatus for decades. It really isn't going anywhere and needs a whole new direction to get itself going. And secondly, the underlying scientific basis of the book (and the other three novels) is beautifully thought through.
Later novels are more about storytelling, but this one (written after the third in actual sequence, so it's technically a prequel), is all about politics and science with a mere wisp of a plot to string it together. The politics is painfully told - not surprising given it was written in the McCarthy era - while the two very different strands of science have remarkable detail for fiction. The scientific themes are anti-aging (or more precisely, anti-death) biology and antigravity. When the antigravity technology is explored we get the likes of Dirac and Blackett invoked, and there are even equations. That part of the book could be popular science, rather than fiction, if it weren't for the fact that one crucial part is made up.
If you took this book in isolation as a novel it would be interesting for its scientific and political content, but probably not worth reading. But as the foundations on which the other three novels are built, it is essential before getting on to the real meat. Here is where we meet the best bit of SF space technology ever, the spindizzy, prior to its role in lifting whole cities in the later books. (Why these aren't movies by now, I have no idea. Modern CGI would work wonders with cities in flight.)
Read it, but only as a stepping stone the second book.
October 1, 2010
They Shall Have Stars is the first novel of the quartet that forms James Blish’s Cities in Flight series, also referred to as his “Okie” novels.
TSHS definitely reads like a set-up for a larger work. The dual story lines—the discovery of an anti-ageing drug that will bring about pharmaceutical-induced immortality, and the construction of a massive bridge on Jupiter that leads to the discovery of anti-gravity, allowing cheap, easy space travel—serve to bring about the technological advances that will allow the space travel of the later novels to occur. In that way, it felt like a prelude to a larger work rather than part of a continuum, more The Hobbit than Shadow of the Torturer.
The political structure of Blish’s world (Jupiter and Earth—primarily Washington DC and New York—in 2018) is a very loosely veiled, barely extrapolated version of the Cold War 1950’s: J. Edgar Hoover and Joseph McCarthey combine in the figure of Francis Xavier MacHinery, the hereditary head of the FBI (yes, the position is now a hereditary one in this world), and Senator Bliss Wagoner, the self-sacrificing Jesus-like figure who single-handedly fends off MacHinery and the Jupiter program’s detractors long enough to allow the discovery of anti-gravity.
While it didn’t occur to me until I read Manny’s excellent review, it now seems abundantly clear that Blish has embedded into this otherwise parochial novel a perspective on religion that is, even today, fairly radical. As the society in TSHS moves closer and closer to conquering both death and the confines of gravity, largely against its will, Blish is showing us what the second coming of Christ will really look like in a technologically advanced future: immortality achieved through scientific breakthrough, and access to the heavens brought about through a massive, expensive public works project.
TSHS definitely reads like a set-up for a larger work. The dual story lines—the discovery of an anti-ageing drug that will bring about pharmaceutical-induced immortality, and the construction of a massive bridge on Jupiter that leads to the discovery of anti-gravity, allowing cheap, easy space travel—serve to bring about the technological advances that will allow the space travel of the later novels to occur. In that way, it felt like a prelude to a larger work rather than part of a continuum, more The Hobbit than Shadow of the Torturer.
The political structure of Blish’s world (Jupiter and Earth—primarily Washington DC and New York—in 2018) is a very loosely veiled, barely extrapolated version of the Cold War 1950’s: J. Edgar Hoover and Joseph McCarthey combine in the figure of Francis Xavier MacHinery, the hereditary head of the FBI (yes, the position is now a hereditary one in this world), and Senator Bliss Wagoner, the self-sacrificing Jesus-like figure who single-handedly fends off MacHinery and the Jupiter program’s detractors long enough to allow the discovery of anti-gravity.
While it didn’t occur to me until I read Manny’s excellent review, it now seems abundantly clear that Blish has embedded into this otherwise parochial novel a perspective on religion that is, even today, fairly radical. As the society in TSHS moves closer and closer to conquering both death and the confines of gravity, largely against its will, Blish is showing us what the second coming of Christ will really look like in a technologically advanced future: immortality achieved through scientific breakthrough, and access to the heavens brought about through a massive, expensive public works project.
November 12, 2014
I just couldn't get into it. I wonder if it's because 2018 is only four years away, so I couldn't match my experience of 2014 with such vast technological advances. I don't think that's the case, though, since I can forgive a lot of breaks with verisimilitude. There were some funny, everyman moments, but for the most part, I just couldn't feel interested in any of the characters or the situation. Also, the title sucks. It was originally published as THEY SHALL HAVE STARS, which is a much better title. I think some jerk at the publishing house felt the need to tinker with it for HOLY GOD YOU'VE GOT TO READ THIS BECAUSE IT'S GOT AN AWESOME TITLE reasons. I don't blame that on Blish. I generally like his work, but I just couldn't bring myself to like this one. (PS: I did kind of enjoy the timeline at the end. Not only does it cover the events of the book, but it also extrapolates into the distant future, 2,000 years later. Although it's still hard to swallow, it is pretty interesting.)
August 20, 2020
In the future (as seen from the 50's) the cold war is still going on in the 2010s. The FBI is run by a gringo version of Beria and the USA spends a lot of money in a scientific project which nobody can really explain. Some senator uses the classical technique of the STEM students (confuse to conquer) in order to keep getting money into this project. I think there is a criticism to the political situation of the USA in the 50s, but since I'm not from USA and I am far from being familiar with the 50s there, I fail to see what is actually being criticized and what is actually fiction.
The whole book amount to boring and mostly wrong discussions about physics and other sciences alternating boring political discussions among annoying characters. A very hard reading and unpleasant reading.
The only thing that the book got right was a discussion explaining why we need the LHC, the rest should not have been printed.
The whole book amount to boring and mostly wrong discussions about physics and other sciences alternating boring political discussions among annoying characters. A very hard reading and unpleasant reading.
The only thing that the book got right was a discussion explaining why we need the LHC, the rest should not have been printed.
January 14, 2018
An interesting, yet talky, science fiction novel. There are no nail-biting, edge of your seat action sequences in "Year 2018!", a k a "They Shall Have Stars". The focus author James Blish gives the book is squarely on the science. Yes, there are mysteries in the tale to keep you turning the pages (what's the point of the "Bridge" on Jupiter? What is the pharmaceutical company, Pfitzner really up to?), but there is nothing at stake to make you turn the pages faster to learn the secrets.
Despite this, "Year 2018!" is a good smart read. Even if it's hard to tell what part of the book and how much of it actually takes place in 2018. Much less why that particular year is the more important than 2016 or 2020, for instance. Still, it was good to read a science fiction that emphasizes the science.
Despite this, "Year 2018!" is a good smart read. Even if it's hard to tell what part of the book and how much of it actually takes place in 2018. Much less why that particular year is the more important than 2016 or 2020, for instance. Still, it was good to read a science fiction that emphasizes the science.
October 31, 2012
While this novel is an excellent prologue, it is clearly a prologue that is solely designed to set up the rest of Cities in Flight. This novel does a solid job of providing the setting; it presents the scientific and political milieu for the year 2018, which sets up the rest of the Cities in Flight storyarc.
August 3, 2019
Almost unreadable. There are a few strands of plot only one of which makes any sense and even that one is pretty laboured. The strand where the man learns about the chemical company could have been interesting but it is really dense with chemical details. The rest of it, for example the bit about the "bridge" makes no sense. Apparently the other books in this series are better - let's hope so
March 17, 2009
An interesting story of politics and science and the collapse of civilization. Nothing more than a prologue really though...
January 31, 2021
The Future Ain't What It Used to Be
One down and three to go in James Blish's celebrated Cities in Flight series. It was great fun reading about the years 2018 through 2020 as forecast in the 1950s. Of course the envisioned future failed to come about exactly as Blish pictured it, but what progress we lack today in interplanetary travel we made up for in other ways: Instances of mailing paper letters and burning the carbons made me grateful for the computer age, e-mail, and the internet. But references to the decline of the West, the ongoing Cold War with the Soviets, and a thinly veiled Joseph McCarthy character still have troubling parallels today.
This short novel packed a lot in: Government corruption and the accompanying personal feuds and power grabs, religious revivalism reflective of today's "woke" churches (Blish's Believers rewrite the Bible regularly), scientific progress and the pesky ethical questions that present hurdles to questionable outcomes, and government workers investing (and losing) their lives in Sisyphean projects--the Bridge on Jupiter--that are simply stepping stones and smokescreens for other projects the workers are never made privy to. There's even a little romance too.
I will admit I skimmed the "hard science" portions complete with mathematical formulae, but I never lost the thread of the story. To Blish's credit he balances well a character-driven narrative with the theoretical science and convinced me his future world was a reasonable and attainable one. It also testified to the fact that while scientific advancements can be made that stagger the imagination, the people populating the world will still suffer the same foibles, fears, and frailties that have plagued humanity since the beginning.
The Believers' catchphrase is [book:Millions Now Living Will Never Die!|, which was a celebrated 1920 book by Jehovah's Witnesses leader Judge Rutherford. The Witnesses were and are still known for holding annual meetings in stadiums, and were rewriting the Bible when creating their New World Translation, so Blish was assuredly drawing upon that organization, but for what purpose? I found their appearances intriguing, but they never figured into the actual plot as more than window dressing. Maybe this was laying the groundwork for later developments in later books?
A prescient passage for the Covid plandemic era of 2020-2021: "In fifty years of unrelenting pressure, they succeeded in converting the West into a system so like the Soviets' as to make direct military action unnecessary; we Sovietized ourselves and our moves are now exactly predictable (p. 147)."
Substitute for the Soviets Big Tech, Big Government, Big Pharma et al. that has cowed a populace with fear and tracks our every online move and purchase and uses logarithms to suggest the next one. Substitute the czars of the cancel culture and their online doxing and intimidating footsoldiers for MacHinery and his "gumshoes" that target and tear down decent people. Carbon papers aside, perhaps Blish did after all rightly envision this period of history in his entertaining and thought-provoking novel.
One down and three to go in James Blish's celebrated Cities in Flight series. It was great fun reading about the years 2018 through 2020 as forecast in the 1950s. Of course the envisioned future failed to come about exactly as Blish pictured it, but what progress we lack today in interplanetary travel we made up for in other ways: Instances of mailing paper letters and burning the carbons made me grateful for the computer age, e-mail, and the internet. But references to the decline of the West, the ongoing Cold War with the Soviets, and a thinly veiled Joseph McCarthy character still have troubling parallels today.
This short novel packed a lot in: Government corruption and the accompanying personal feuds and power grabs, religious revivalism reflective of today's "woke" churches (Blish's Believers rewrite the Bible regularly), scientific progress and the pesky ethical questions that present hurdles to questionable outcomes, and government workers investing (and losing) their lives in Sisyphean projects--the Bridge on Jupiter--that are simply stepping stones and smokescreens for other projects the workers are never made privy to. There's even a little romance too.
I will admit I skimmed the "hard science" portions complete with mathematical formulae, but I never lost the thread of the story. To Blish's credit he balances well a character-driven narrative with the theoretical science and convinced me his future world was a reasonable and attainable one. It also testified to the fact that while scientific advancements can be made that stagger the imagination, the people populating the world will still suffer the same foibles, fears, and frailties that have plagued humanity since the beginning.
The Believers' catchphrase is [book:Millions Now Living Will Never Die!|, which was a celebrated 1920 book by Jehovah's Witnesses leader Judge Rutherford. The Witnesses were and are still known for holding annual meetings in stadiums, and were rewriting the Bible when creating their New World Translation, so Blish was assuredly drawing upon that organization, but for what purpose? I found their appearances intriguing, but they never figured into the actual plot as more than window dressing. Maybe this was laying the groundwork for later developments in later books?
A prescient passage for the Covid plandemic era of 2020-2021: "In fifty years of unrelenting pressure, they succeeded in converting the West into a system so like the Soviets' as to make direct military action unnecessary; we Sovietized ourselves and our moves are now exactly predictable (p. 147)."
Substitute for the Soviets Big Tech, Big Government, Big Pharma et al. that has cowed a populace with fear and tracks our every online move and purchase and uses logarithms to suggest the next one. Substitute the czars of the cancel culture and their online doxing and intimidating footsoldiers for MacHinery and his "gumshoes" that target and tear down decent people. Carbon papers aside, perhaps Blish did after all rightly envision this period of history in his entertaining and thought-provoking novel.
October 29, 2023
Reto de Lectura 2023: Clásicos de ciencia-ficción que nunca había leído (7 de 10)
Las cuatro novelas que componen la saga de Cities in Flight se suelen publicar hoy en día en un único volumen, pero para este reto de lectura he querido leerlas por primera vez de forma individual, tal como fueron concebidas en su momento. Para aquellos que, como yo, no la conozcan, la saga es un largo relato acerca de la conquista del espacio por parte de la humanidad en un futuro en el que ciudades enteras son transformadas en gigantescas naves interestalares, pero este primer volumen, They Shall Have Stars únicamente cuenta los orígenes del proyecto basado en dos invenciones que contienen la clave para que el Hombre abandone el sistema solar: por un lado la invención de un método de viaje rápido por el cosmos, y por otro lado la tecnología necesaria para alargar la vida humana prácticamente hasta la inmortalidad.
La premisa es sin duda alguna algo interesante, pero este primer libro la trata como si fuese una conspiración, una perspectiva poco atractiva a mi gusto. También parece mucho más interesada en largas y detalladas discusiones acerca de la veracidad científica de los conceptos que maneja (una veracidad que de entrada desconozco si es tal) mientras que todo lo demás pasa a una segunda fila, incluyendo la ambientación en un futuro pseudo-distópico en el que la prolongación de la Guerra Fría hasta bien entrado el siglo XXI (la novela es de los años cincuenta) ha hecho de la sociedad occidental un espacio político tan paranoico e insufrible como la propia Unión Soviética. Esta idea, que me pareció una de las cosas más interesantes, es prácticamente dejada de lado en favor de la trama científica, la cual me pareció hermética y poco accesible para alguien que no esté entre los amantes de la ciencia-ficción clásica y su gusto por la pura especulación futurista.
Mejora mucho hacia el final, una vez que sabes de que va todo y se va preparando el terreno para lo que serán los libros siguientes, que imagino están mucho mejor. Por lo demás me ha parecido un libro más valioso en cuanto a sus ideas que en cuanto a su desarrollo, que se me hizo en ocasiones cuesta arriba.
Las cuatro novelas que componen la saga de Cities in Flight se suelen publicar hoy en día en un único volumen, pero para este reto de lectura he querido leerlas por primera vez de forma individual, tal como fueron concebidas en su momento. Para aquellos que, como yo, no la conozcan, la saga es un largo relato acerca de la conquista del espacio por parte de la humanidad en un futuro en el que ciudades enteras son transformadas en gigantescas naves interestalares, pero este primer volumen, They Shall Have Stars únicamente cuenta los orígenes del proyecto basado en dos invenciones que contienen la clave para que el Hombre abandone el sistema solar: por un lado la invención de un método de viaje rápido por el cosmos, y por otro lado la tecnología necesaria para alargar la vida humana prácticamente hasta la inmortalidad.
La premisa es sin duda alguna algo interesante, pero este primer libro la trata como si fuese una conspiración, una perspectiva poco atractiva a mi gusto. También parece mucho más interesada en largas y detalladas discusiones acerca de la veracidad científica de los conceptos que maneja (una veracidad que de entrada desconozco si es tal) mientras que todo lo demás pasa a una segunda fila, incluyendo la ambientación en un futuro pseudo-distópico en el que la prolongación de la Guerra Fría hasta bien entrado el siglo XXI (la novela es de los años cincuenta) ha hecho de la sociedad occidental un espacio político tan paranoico e insufrible como la propia Unión Soviética. Esta idea, que me pareció una de las cosas más interesantes, es prácticamente dejada de lado en favor de la trama científica, la cual me pareció hermética y poco accesible para alguien que no esté entre los amantes de la ciencia-ficción clásica y su gusto por la pura especulación futurista.
Mejora mucho hacia el final, una vez que sabes de que va todo y se va preparando el terreno para lo que serán los libros siguientes, que imagino están mucho mejor. Por lo demás me ha parecido un libro más valioso en cuanto a sus ideas que en cuanto a su desarrollo, que se me hizo en ocasiones cuesta arriba.
Read
August 13, 2024I rated this novel B+ when I read it Jan. 31, 1977, and then went on to read all four of the "Cities in Flight" novels. I was a huge fan at the time, and rated them all quite highly, but I felt that the fourth and last one (The Triumph of Time) dropped off quite a bit. The fourth book only rated C+.
My rating system:
Since Goodreads only allows 1 to 5 stars (no half-stars), you have no option but to be ruthless. I reserve one star for a book that is a BOMB - or poor (equivalent to a letter grade of F, E, or at most D). Progressing upwards, 2 stars is equivalent to C (C -, C or C+), 3 stars (equals B - or B), 4 stars (equals B+ or A -), and 5 stars (equals A or A+). As a result, I maximize my rating space for good books, and don't waste half or more of that rating space on books that are of marginal quality.
My rating for "They Shall Have Stars" was B+, which translates to a Goodreads score of 4 stars. A score of 3 1/2 stars would be more accurate, but Goodreads said a half-star was no more likely than a city-in-flight.
My rating system:
Since Goodreads only allows 1 to 5 stars (no half-stars), you have no option but to be ruthless. I reserve one star for a book that is a BOMB - or poor (equivalent to a letter grade of F, E, or at most D). Progressing upwards, 2 stars is equivalent to C (C -, C or C+), 3 stars (equals B - or B), 4 stars (equals B+ or A -), and 5 stars (equals A or A+). As a result, I maximize my rating space for good books, and don't waste half or more of that rating space on books that are of marginal quality.
My rating for "They Shall Have Stars" was B+, which translates to a Goodreads score of 4 stars. A score of 3 1/2 stars would be more accurate, but Goodreads said a half-star was no more likely than a city-in-flight.
November 30, 2021
This is pretty hardcore in terms of its science content - I still didn't really understand what that massive bridge on Jupiter was for, right up to the end. I mean, I couldn't really tell you now, except... oh wait, yeh I could. Anyway, it seemed a bit dense at times. Then there were all the political machinations... yeah, quite convincing, but not all that interesting. And it was only like 129 pages... it could have gone much further... but I kind of enjoyed it. Just not massively.
I got this in an anthology of all the Cities in Flight books. It turns out that for once I should have read the introduction, as it tells you that the first book in the series wasn't the first one written, and that you shouldn't start there. Too late. But I'm going to go on and read the others anyway. Probably starting with Eartman, Come Home or whatever it's called.
I got this in an anthology of all the Cities in Flight books. It turns out that for once I should have read the introduction, as it tells you that the first book in the series wasn't the first one written, and that you shouldn't start there. Too late. But I'm going to go on and read the others anyway. Probably starting with Eartman, Come Home or whatever it's called.
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